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somnolenthour · 8 hours
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My Lovely Detective VII
PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Detective!OC
CO-WRITER: @iron-flavored-lipgloss
CONTAINS: NSFW, master/pet dynamics, dirty talk, implied BDSM, pet names, brat taming, humiliation and maybe something else :D
WORDS: 2.2k
A/N: Hello everyone! Please forgive us for the long wait, we have been quite busy lately. Enjoy the new chapter!
LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]; [AO3].
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In My Twisted Era
Buying clothes for Andrea had become one of the few and all the more unexpected pleasures in Patrick Bateman's life. With Evelyn it had been absolutely horrible (she had her very own taste), and not even Courtney would have agreed to wear such skimpy, if not downright whorish clothes. But Andrea couldn't really refuse, she just had to show whatever sexy little excuse of an outfit Patrick was currently in love with. And for tonight's special occasion, there was no other woman he would rather have on a leash. 
"I told you, this is no ordinary party. This is the dress code, and you will not bring your prudish sense of style into it."
The woman was wearing a very expensive set of lingerie, which he had deliberately made a little too tight to make her tits look even fuller, showing off every curve in a way that would surely make any other man jealous. The heels were also painfully impractical, probably the highest shoes Andrea had ever owned, and against her will it made her cling even tighter to Patrick's arm, needing stability. 
All he had to do was tug on the sturdy little leash attached to her choker and Andrea would stumble right into his arms or fall to her knees—another idea that drove Bateman a little crazy, so he tried not to think about it right now. Patrick himself, of course, was dressed very differently, showing off his finest tuxedo, but pretending that there was nothing humiliating about Andrea being almost naked under her new big fur coat—that coat she was now forced to take off in the checkroom.
"It's very warm inside. Real candlelight," one of the ladies in charge explained emphatically to Andrea and then winked playfully at Patrick.  Andrea, who in her blushing anger only looked delightfully innocent to these professionals, who had never experienced the perversions of an elite motto party like this. "One more thing—we have to check for any weapons."
That was ridiculous, of course—where would Andrea hide a weapon? Under her elegant Colombina mask?  No, this was one of the few rules tonight to ensure everyone's privacy. But everything else was a part of the game, like the female cloakroom attendant groping Andrea. She squeezed her tits a little and pulled her lace thong down, as if to check if she had a gun shoved up her pussy. 
"Hush darling, let it happen," Bateman whispered in her ear, just loud enough for the other woman to buy their supposed relationship and notice the shiver running through Andrea's body as a pleasant side effect.
Annoyed, Andrea tried not to scoff and spat in the attendant's face as her hands resumed their shameless exploration of her body. "One more move and I'll break your fucking fingers," she hissed as the woman bent down to her neck, her lips almost touching the detective's throat. "Understand?"
Unaware of Andrea's words, Patrick leered as he enjoyed the scene unfolding before him. Oh, how often had he imagined himself having fun with Andrea and another woman. Tonight all his fantasies could come true, he would do anything for it.
The attendant suddenly backed away, almost bumping into Bateman, but he managed to step away at the last moment. Scowling, Andrea adjusted her lingerie, looking aggressive and very angry. 'If only I could rip these clothes off,' the woman thought, looking around to assess the situation. There were a lot of people, a lot of rich, depraved people who were definitely sick and immoral. Patrick's cheeky chuckle caught Andrea's attention again—the woman who had shamelessly groped her a moment ago was now busy inspecting Bateman, and judging by his reaction, the man was enjoying the process.
"Have a nice evening, Mister." The woman murmured before pecking Patrick's cheek and slipping something into his jacket pocket. 
Frowning in disgust, Andrea wanted to use this as a chance to escape, but as she turned to see the exit, another couple walked in. A black haired man was holding a blonde girl on a leash who was crawling on all fours like a dog. This was already too much for Detective Moore, more than too much.
When Patrick had finished with the bitchy cloakroom lady, he grabbed Andrea's wrist and forced her to follow him further into the house. "I... I don't feel well," the brown-haired woman said as they moved through the noisy crowd of people, most of them already naked but still wearing their masks. "Can... Can I use the bathroom?"
'This party is the chance I've been waiting for,' the idea came to her faster than she could move, as she slipped through the groups of rich yuppies and their pocket whores. 'I should escape. Otherwise I won't make it tomorrow.'
"We've barely arrived," Patrick muttered, slightly annoyed, before he seemed to think of something—his mood changed again. "But I guess my poor girl was so nervous, she couldn't help it." He was playing that role again, the caring and generous lover—only the arrogance of his smile betrayed his true nature. "We'll look for a bathroom on the way."
One hand firmly on the leash, the other boldly wrapped around her waist, Andrea couldn't help but follow him deeper into what seemed to be a temple of hedonistic desire. The high, dark walls and even the ceiling were adorned with various framed nude paintings that would have been tasteful under any other circumstances, but here, in this place, they only added to the sinister atmosphere—along with those suspicious noises of unknown origin echoing through the hallways, a seemingly endless number of them branching off to the left and right of the main corridor. 
Bizarre shadows dancing on the walls and the beguiling scent of musk and sandalwood followed Patrick and Andrea, as well as dozens of other couples. Some women balanced on their stilettos like Andrea, others crawled on the floor, it was hard not to step on their fingers.
And finally, a glamorous ballroom awaited them, with chandeliers hanging down, the lights dimmed naturally, and sensual jazz sounds played by a live band. There were several champagne towers and a buffet table so large it could have fed the entire homeless population of New York, yet girls in short maid dresses carried trays of drinks and snacks through the flow of muted conversation. 
There seemed to be too much of everything, but "it's just the entrance hall," Patrick assured Andrea, smiling at the couple next to him, exchanging brief nods with the other man and thus showing respect for each other.
"First time here?"
"It is, for her." 
Patrick squeezed Andrea's shoulder, but his gaze remained on the young woman lounging on the floor, caressing her male companion's leg and looking up at him with large, dilated pupils. 
"You like her?" The broad grin that appeared beneath the stranger's mask suggested that he was not annoyed by the attention his girl was receiving—quite the opposite. 
"Well, I can't lie ... she seems very well-behaved."
'And she's very blonde and busty, too. Although Andrea's tits look even better.'
"Yeah, you're a good little kitty, aren't you, Jessica?"
Patrick watched the woman, apparently Jessica, in utter fascination as she rubbed her cheek on this guy's shoes and told him, "Yes, Master."
It was a very strange mixture of affection and obedience—basically the opposite of Andrea. 
"I assume you didn't come for the food. Although..." They cast an odd glance at another group of men lined up around a girl smeared with cream. 
"Not exactly. Andrea's not quite there yet."
As they left this hall of the gluttonous, Jessica simply followed, but when it came to Andrea, Patrick had to pull hard on her leash first. Any protest died in her throat as Andrea had to gasp for air instead.
"A brat, huh? Charming little hot blood..."
"I don't share her with men." Patrick wasn't even sure how those words had come out so quickly and clearly - Evelyn having an affair had never bothered him. 
'And it's not like I care about Andrea ethier!'
But the thought of this stranger (who was about as tall as he was and looked very fit to boot) fucking Andrea made him feel sick. 
"Oh, not me. But my little Jessica likes to play with girls. So maybe..."
 And of course that sounded much more appealing to Patrick.
Andrea swallowed hard, a shiver running down her spine at the thought of being involved with another woman. There was no way Bateman was considering it, but when he approached the bitch named Jessica and leaned down to stroke her cheek, something inside the detective tightened like a spring.
"Now, now," Patrick crooned as Jessica tried to kiss his hand. "You're a playful one, aren't you?"
The owner just chuckled, completely unbothered by the fact that another man was touching his girl, and it made Andrea almost vomit, but instead of making a scene, she decided to play along and get Bateman's attention back. 
Quickly, the brunette stepped back so that the leash in Patrick's hand tightened, forcing him to look back at his pet. "Hey," Bateman barked in a threatening tone, pulling on the leash to bring Andrea closer until she was level with him. "Behave yourself," he pointed an index finger at her, knitting his perfectly sculpted eyebrows. "Otherwise you'll..."
Patrick froze, the words stuck in his throat like a lump as Andrea wrapped her plump lips around his finger and sucked on it with pure devotion. Another couple seemed hypnotized by the scene as the lewd aura of Bateman and his lovely detective consumed them like a fog.
"And I thought you wanted to play with me first," Andrea purred after releasing Patrick's finger. "We don't need anyone else."
"Is that so?" Bateman murmured back, his pupils dilating by the second as he watched Andrea nestle against his large palm. "Or are you just jealous?"
Patrick nuzzled the detective's neck and cupped her ass possessively, eliciting a soft moan from her lips. Andrea even forgot the couple next to them, the place they were now, she forgot everything. Just one bite was enough to bring down her defenses. That man, dear God, that man was a devil in the flesh. Disappointed and absolutely jealous, Jessica reached out to touch Bateman again, but her master wouldn't let her, tugging at the leash and forcing her to stay still. Andrea couldn't hide her pleasure at seeing this poor little bitch suffer, even though she felt terrible about having to act so damn lewd. 'I must have completely lost my mind.' 
Satisfied and sated, Patrick pulled away from Andrea to turn and wink at Jessica, making sure the detective didn't see it. "It was a pleasure to meet you," Bateman nodded to the stranger and his submissive. "Have a good evening."
With that, Bateman tightened his grip on the leash and made Andrea follow him. It felt like the party was getting even more crowded, female moans, male groans and seductive giggles blending into a wicked cacophony of sounds; Andrea's head was spinning from the strong scent of the aroma candles. 
"Where are we going?" Andrea asked suddenly as they turned another corner and walked down the dimly lit hallway. "Patrick?"
The man didn't answer, speeding up as if they were being chased. But by whom?
The woman could feel her heart pounding so painfully against her chest that it was hard to breathe, but when they reached their destination, Andrea felt weak in her knees. With a smug grin on his handsome face, Bateman opened the door, and the first thing Andrea saw were several large chains attached to the ceiling, holding what looked like a leather seat. Speechless, the woman took an uncertain step before Patrick placed his hand on the small of her back, urging her to get in. Once inside, a soft click of the door echoed through the small room with dark walls and intimate lighting. 
God, what was this place?
"Is it... some kind of torture chamber?" Andrea asked, looking around in complete shock. "Why... Why are we here?"
It took Patrick only a little effort to push Andrea's body into the leather seat, the woman still too stunned by her new surroundings and his quick movements. 
"You know, you could have told me earlier. That you want me all alone..." He leaned down, his left and right hands grasping at the attached chains, trapping Andrea close to him. 
There seemed to be no escape from those eyes—hypnotic and so hungry, a dangerous desire radiating from each of his smooth movements. If just the look could kill. If eyes could devour...
Andrea couldn't help but shiver.
"You're sweating, dear." His thumb began to stroke her forehead, caressing her cheek in a light gesture that would seem so uncharacteristically tender if she didn't know him better. Beneath the surface of this controlled seduction, he is the same beast as always.  "That feeling... you know the one. The one that makes your heart race and your fingers tremble, just like this." His hand now ran down her naked arm, rubbing circles of false comfort over her goosebumps. 
Down to Andrea's wrist, that vulnerable spot where the veins shimmered purple through her skin and her artery pulsed rapidly under the dull pressure of his thumb. She was alive, and that made him feel alive in a way that no words could express. 
"Is it fear or...? Are you so excited for me?"
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P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and my amazing co-writer @iron-flavored-lipgloss and turn on notifications to know when we update!
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somnolenthour · 11 hours
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patrick bateman let me sit on your lap
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somnolenthour · 1 day
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Happy birthday to my friend @somnolenthour , I hope you have a killer party 🔪
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somnolenthour · 2 days
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Fave Tim ship/s? I’m a Tim/Pat truther
Tim and Pat sniff sugar in da bathroom
Okay so I ship Tim with my OC, Julie. They met at a party at Yale in 1978 and were smitten with each other (I'm talking the works here: photo booth photos, pet names. Only she was allowed to call him Timmy).
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(Julie in 1978)
My second favorite ship is TIm/Evelyn. They are having an affair behind Pat's back (who knows and just doesn't care). Evelyn met Tim in 1981 and they mixed very well, however Evelyn chose Patrick because of his status.
Thank you for the ask nonnie. Please send more :D
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somnolenthour · 2 days
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1/4
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somnolenthour · 2 days
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i think some of you dont like narratives or stories or characters i think you just like fanfiction tropes
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somnolenthour · 3 days
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I have the entire conversation sketched out but I'm also lazy so. Woe, patrick 👉👈 bateman be upon ye
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somnolenthour · 3 days
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somnolenthour · 3 days
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EVERYBODY LOOK AT THIS
@somnolenthour colored this lineart of mine for her OC Holly and Tim!
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somnolenthour · 3 days
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Alexander Blok, from a poem titled "O What Is Setting Sun's Radiance To Me," featured in The Twelve & Other Poems
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somnolenthour · 4 days
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𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐬 ♡
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somnolenthour · 4 days
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redo because i messed up
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somnolenthour · 4 days
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filtering down ao3 results from 14000 to 6 based on a single tag is foul. im sorry none of you are as enlightened as me ig.
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somnolenthour · 5 days
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A little bit possessive
PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x fem!Reader
CW: Smut, Daddy kink, pregnancy/breeding kink, unprotected vaginal sex, prone bone, power play, dirty talk, pet names, obsessive behavior, implied overstimulation.
A/N: Hello everyone, just wanted to drop this little drabble, seems like Daddy Kink is taking over me once again as I have been listening to too many of Lana's songs lately, especially THIS edit hits hard. Also, I want to thank everyone who still reads me, I'm struggling with several writing projects, but I hope such little drabbles can bring you some joy! Sending my love and hugs!💕
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"Tell me," Bateman murmured, his voice low and commanding as he pushed just the tip inside you. "What exactly do you think you're going to do, hmm? Walk away? Find another man to play Daddy?" He thrust forward, filling you in one brutal motion, his fingers digging deeper into your flesh. "You're mine," Patrick growled through clenched teeth, his pace rough and relentless as he fucked you. "You're not going anywhere." He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as his hips jerked forward, his cock slamming into your soaking slit. "And this baby? It's mine too. You won't find anyone else who can give you what I can." Patrick's hand moved to your throat, his grip tight as he thrust harder, pushing your body into the mattress with each movement. "You'll thank me," he sneered, diving deeper, reveling in the intoxicating sensation of your warmth. "You'll beg me to stay."
"No!" You blurted out, grabbing his hand that was painfully squeezing your neck. "It… it's not true!"
"Go ahead," he snapped darkly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Tell me you don't need me. I dare you." Patrick's cock drove deep into you again, hard enough to make the headboard hit the wall. "Because the truth is… you can't fucking live without me." The man thrust harder, every move designed to make you understand exactly what he meant. "This is your life now, honey. With me. Only me." Bateman grinned, his breath hot against your skin. "And you're going to love every fucking second of it."
Sobbing, you tried to kick him off you and roll over, but Patrick was too strong, much stronger than you, there was not even a chance to fight him. "It hurts!" you squealed and closed your eyes, your legs already shaking. "I… I can't take it… anymore…"
Inflamed, Bateman pinned you to the mattress and then, in one swift motion, flipped you over so that you lay flat on your stomach. Whimpering and trembling, you struggled to crawl away from him, but the next thing you knew, Patrick was covering you from above, weighing you down and placing a pillow under your pubic bone before ramming into your sore, creamy cunt once more.
"Beg me to stop," the man taunted, thrusting harder, faster. "Beg me and maybe I'll think about it." His hand tightened around your shoulders as his other hand grabbed your ass, pulling you even closer as he pounded into you, ignoring your cries, your pleas for mercy.
"Enough…p-please!" You turned to look at him, but he just pushed your face into the pillow. "Mhmm…it's too deep!"
Bateman could feel his orgasm building, but he didn't stop, didn't slow down. He's not done yet. Not until you fully understood who owned you. Not until you were completely broken.
"You will never leave me," Patrick whispered, his voice raspy and full of conviction. "You belong to me now. And there's nothing you can do about it."
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P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!
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somnolenthour · 5 days
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Heartbreaking: you're fully convinced the worst people you know are trying to make you jealous
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somnolenthour · 5 days
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eating pussy from behind needs more appreciation if you ask me ! yeah, having a girl sitting on your face or with her legs folded over her chest is nice but nothing tops watching a lady with her back arched and face squished on the sheets, pretty pussy dripping down on her plush inner thighs and cute butt wiggling for your hands to grope it ! squeezing my face between her legs feels like heaven, with the tip of my nose rubbing on her pulsing hole and my tongue lapping between her folds— don’t even get me started on how it’s the perfect position for her to grind back on my face, while she babbles but it’s muffled with the sheets. so so dirty. you can also grip her hips if she tries to run away from your mouth sucking her aching clit, saying it’s too much. just spank her ass and tell her to say her safe word or just shut up and take what you give her… jesus, i’m getting horny.
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somnolenthour · 5 days
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"casual sex" fuck that. POSSESSIVE AND UNHINGED SEX
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