warnings: afab!reader, reader wears a dress, smut, car sex / semi-public sex , piv , age gap; reader is 25 & art is 34 , sub!dilf!art later becomes dom!art, dirty language , teasing / flirting , pet names, bwc!art 👀 , affair/cheating , finger sucking , mentions of lily (and tashi with patrick also having their affair) , m!receiving oral , riding , swallowing of cum
circois: could this be described as a taboo relationship ? idkk
"you look good." he says you step out of your house, closing the front door.
he walks around the car, opening the door for you. "thank you, art." you say as you kiss him, a smile creeping up on his lips.
you get inside the car, sitting and fixing your dress as you sit.
he closes the door and walks around, getting inside the driver's seat.
"where are we going?"
"guess." he starts the car and briefly looks over at you— your legs, your outfit, your beautiful face, the small smile perked on your lips. those kissable & soft lips.
"uh.. i don't have a clue!"
"that restaurant you mentioned the other night? when i fucked you in the bathroom?" you chuckle and scrunch your nose, "shut up."
"you remembered." he nods and smiles, "i'm not that whipped."
"how's lily?" he clears his throat and sighs, "with tashi, in that crappy hotel."
you chuckle, and roll your eyes, "god, you know she's still fucking patrick, right?" art nods and places his hand on your thigh, the red traffic light shining over you two as he turns to face you.
"and i'm still fucking you. its equally fucked up." "technically, you're in a open marriage."
he squeezes your thigh, moving it annoyingly higher. "can we not talk about my 'fucked up' marriage? or tashi." he shrugs and shakes his head, the light turning green, "tonight is about you."
"it's always about me." you whisper and he smiles, " 'cause you're sexy." he smirks.
your hand makes its way to the bulge in his jeans, that had gone unnoticed until now.
he lets out a choked whine, "baby."
you reach a red light.
your hand unzips his zipper.
he's hard.
a moan slipping past as your finger graze over his hard cock.
"we're not gonna make the reservation if you keep going."
"fuck the reservation." you smirk and unbuckle your seatbelt.
once the light turns green, art drives into the nearest empty parking lot, an applebee's.
art groans and leans his seat back, giving you space.
"for taking me out." you whisper, leaning over to face his opened jeans.
he lifts up his hips, pulling his boxers and jeans down just enough.
his cock springs up, hitting your lips causing his breath to hitch and deepen from the feeling. "such a sensitive thing." you whisper.
licking his tip, you grip his shaft, your hand jerking off his cock.
"please." he whines, "you want it? my mouth? on your cock? so dirty." you whisper, spitting on his tip and rubbing it over with your fingers. your hand moves up and down, exactly at the right pace.
his hips jerk up— he wanted more. "be patient, baby." you smirk, feeling his hand moving its way to your ass– gripping and slightly slapping.
you finally take all of his cock into your mouth, gagging as he hits the back of your throat. "fuck!" he moans as his hips thrust, making you gag again, " 'm sorry, fuck." he whimpers as he looks down at you.
his hand squeezes your ass, the other lays on your head as you move it up and down. "feels so good, fuck." he whispers, "you take me so good." you moan around his cock, causing it to twitch at the contact.
you lift your head— a string of saliva connecting his cock to your lips as you begin jerking him off again. "i'm close, sweetheart."
you smirk and kiss the tip of his cock, "want you to cum on my mouth." you look up at him, your hand still moving around his cock. "dirty girl." he whimpers.
his cock twitches once again. you lick his shaft up to his tip, your mouth open as he finally reaches his climax. his warm liquid falling into your mouth, lips and even getting on your nose.
you swallow it, your fingers cleaning up what fell on your nose, sucking on your fingers— he moans at the sight. his cock getting harder, if it was possible. "wanna fuck you. feel you, baby." he whimpers— reaching for you, to which you obey by moving over to his lap.
he bunches up your dress to your hips, revealing your underwear; a pink lace. "sexy." he whispers, his lips come in contact with yours— a sensual, deep, sexy, soft and warm kiss. his tongue crashing with yours as you fight for dominance.
his fingers move to curl over the waistband, ripping your panties. "i'll buy you more." he whispers against your lips, his eyes not leaving yours as his cock comes in contact with your entrance. he watches your face as you sink down on his cock, stretching you out once again.
"art.." you moan against his neck. he shushes you softly, his hips beginning to rut up against you, your breasts bouncing at the contact. "let me take care of you."
you begin leaving wet kisses against his neck, biting his skin softly. "your pussy's squeezin' me so good, bunny." he whispers against your ear.
your hands move down towards his buttons on his button up, unbuttoning them; revealing his very toned chest and abs (from his very hard working tennis years), you moan at the sight— and the fact his tip just hit your cervix.
your hands lay on his abs. he begins to slow down, a signal for you to take control – which you do. you begin lifting your hips, his dick twitching inside of you at the sight and feeling of your pussy sliding up and down on him.
"fuckin' hell, art." you breathe out as you slam down, his cock hitting your cervix once you do. "oh fuck!" he moans out, throwing his head back — his hands move out to grip your hips, helping you with your movements.
if anyone walked by, they could see the car shaking. the foggy windows. and they could probably hear you both moaning and the skin of both of your hips slapping against eachother. the sound of both your liquids as you moved against art's cock.
the filthy sounds of an affair. of sex.
and fuck, did it feel so fucking good. everytime he hit your cervix; a moan from your lips. everytime he gripped your hips; a whimper from his lips. everytime you moved your fingers over his abs; a thrust of his hips.
"fuck art!" you moaned, throwing your head back – your back arching. "are you close, baby?" he whispers into your ear as he grips your skin, helping you bounce on his cock. "yes, fuck, yes." he moans at the sound of your voice, weak, whimpering.
"cum for me, baby. all over my dick." you let out a pornographic moan, your hands gripping his curls, "oh fuck, angel." he whimpers as he thrusts into you, his cum filling you up.
your breathing is heavy, your head against his as you take in what just happened. "i think we missed our reservation."
ok i will be going back to actual font size cause i lowk dont wanna do this. fuck aesthetics. also this is like months old. 😅😅
warnings: afab!reader, reader wears a dress, smut, car sex / semi-public sex , piv , age gap; reader is 25 & art is 34 , sub!dilf!art later becomes dom!art, dirty language , teasing / flirting , pet names, bwc!art 👀 , affair/cheating , finger sucking , mentions of lily (and tashi with patrick also having their affair) , m!receiving oral , riding , swallowing of cum
circois: could this be described as a taboo relationship ? idkk
"you look good." he says you step out of your house, closing the front door.
he walks around the car, opening the door for you. "thank you, art." you say as you kiss him, a smile creeping up on his lips.
you get inside the car, sitting and fixing your dress as you sit.
he closes the door and walks around, getting inside the driver's seat.
"where are we going?"
"guess." he starts the car and briefly looks over at you— your legs, your outfit, your beautiful face, the small smile perked on your lips. those kissable & soft lips.
"uh.. i don't have a clue!"
"that restaurant you mentioned the other night? when i fucked you in the bathroom?" you chuckle and scrunch your nose, "shut up."
"you remembered." he nods and smiles, "i'm not that whipped."
"how's lily?" he clears his throat and sighs, "with tashi, in that crappy hotel."
you chuckle, and roll your eyes, "god, you know she's still fucking patrick, right?" art nods and places his hand on your thigh, the red traffic light shining over you two as he turns to face you.
"and i'm still fucking you. its equally fucked up." "technically, you're in a open marriage."
he squeezes your thigh, moving it annoyingly higher. "can we not talk about my 'fucked up' marriage? or tashi." he shrugs and shakes his head, the light turning green, "tonight is about you."
"it's always about me." you whisper and he smiles, " 'cause you're sexy." he smirks.
your hand makes its way to the bulge in his jeans, that had gone unnoticed until now.
he lets out a choked whine, "baby."
you reach a red light.
your hand unzips his zipper.
he's hard.
a moan slipping past as your finger graze over his hard cock.
"we're not gonna make the reservation if you keep going."
"fuck the reservation." you smirk and unbuckle your seatbelt.
once the light turns green, art drives into the nearest empty parking lot, an applebee's.
art groans and leans his seat back, giving you space.
"for taking me out." you whisper, leaning over to face his opened jeans.
he lifts up his hips, pulling his boxers and jeans down just enough.
his cock springs up, hitting your lips causing his breath to hitch and deepen from the feeling. "such a sensitive thing." you whisper.
licking his tip, you grip his shaft, your hand jerking off his cock.
"please." he whines, "you want it? my mouth? on your cock? so dirty." you whisper, spitting on his tip and rubbing it over with your fingers. your hand moves up and down, exactly at the right pace.
his hips jerk up— he wanted more. "be patient, baby." you smirk, feeling his hand moving its way to your ass– gripping and slightly slapping.
you finally take all of his cock into your mouth, gagging as he hits the back of your throat. "fuck!" he moans as his hips thrust, making you gag again, " 'm sorry, fuck." he whimpers as he looks down at you.
his hand squeezes your ass, the other lays on your head as you move it up and down. "feels so good, fuck." he whispers, "you take me so good." you moan around his cock, causing it to twitch at the contact.
you lift your head— a string of saliva connecting his cock to your lips as you begin jerking him off again. "i'm close, sweetheart."
you smirk and kiss the tip of his cock, "want you to cum on my mouth." you look up at him, your hand still moving around his cock. "dirty girl." he whimpers.
his cock twitches once again. you lick his shaft up to his tip, your mouth open as he finally reaches his climax. his warm liquid falling into your mouth, lips and even getting on your nose.
you swallow it, your fingers cleaning up what fell on your nose, sucking on your fingers— he moans at the sight. his cock getting harder, if it was possible. "wanna fuck you. feel you, baby." he whimpers— reaching for you, to which you obey by moving over to his lap.
he bunches up your dress to your hips, revealing your underwear; a pink lace. "sexy." he whispers, his lips come in contact with yours— a sensual, deep, sexy, soft and warm kiss. his tongue crashing with yours as you fight for dominance.
his fingers move to curl over the waistband, ripping your panties. "i'll buy you more." he whispers against your lips, his eyes not leaving yours as his cock comes in contact with your entrance. he watches your face as you sink down on his cock, stretching you out once again.
"art.." you moan against his neck. he shushes you softly, his hips beginning to rut up against you, your breasts bouncing at the contact. "let me take care of you."
you begin leaving wet kisses against his neck, biting his skin softly. "your pussy's squeezin' me so good, bunny." he whispers against your ear.
your hands move down towards his buttons on his button up, unbuttoning them; revealing his very toned chest and abs (from his very hard working tennis years), you moan at the sight— and the fact his tip just hit your cervix.
your hands lay on his abs. he begins to slow down, a signal for you to take control – which you do. you begin lifting your hips, his dick twitching inside of you at the sight and feeling of your pussy sliding up and down on him.
"fuckin' hell, art." you breathe out as you slam down, his cock hitting your cervix once you do. "oh fuck!" he moans out, throwing his head back — his hands move out to grip your hips, helping you with your movements.
if anyone walked by, they could see the car shaking. the foggy windows. and they could probably hear you both moaning and the skin of both of your hips slapping against eachother. the sound of both your liquids as you moved against art's cock.
the filthy sounds of an affair. of sex.
and fuck, did it feel so fucking good. everytime he hit your cervix; a moan from your lips. everytime he gripped your hips; a whimper from his lips. everytime you moved your fingers over his abs; a thrust of his hips.
"fuck art!" you moaned, throwing your head back – your back arching. "are you close, baby?" he whispers into your ear as he grips your skin, helping you bounce on his cock. "yes, fuck, yes." he moans at the sound of your voice, weak, whimpering.
"cum for me, baby. all over my dick." you let out a pornographic moan, your hands gripping his curls, "oh fuck, angel." he whimpers as he thrusts into you, his cum filling you up.
your breathing is heavy, your head against his as you take in what just happened. "i think we missed our reservation."
ok i will be going back to actual font size cause i lowk dont wanna do this. fuck aesthetics. also this is like months old. 😅😅
you wake up in space without any knowledge of how you got there with two corpses for roommates. and oh, if it's any consolation, there's also another person—just that he's as disoriented and clueless as you are.
pairing: ryland grace x teacher!biochemist!reader
genre/warnings: fluff, domestic au, established relationship, major major angst, slowburn, loss, arguments
synopsis 𝄢 you fall for Patrick again after trying to put a end to things .𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋
content 𝄢 hangover, mentions taking unprescribed medications, therapy session, crying, reader receiving oral sex, unprotected p in v, hurt/no comfort, angst, lots of yearning, patrick getting slapped with a pillow ♬⋆.˚
💬 𝄢 Nothing, just enjoy :) pt.4
You wake up from hearing your name being called and the sound of your door creaking open. “Hey, are you okay?” It’s your mom’s voice. She’s shaking your shoulder trying to wake you up. “Why are you sleeping on the floor? And why are you in your old dress from middle school? Did you go out last night?” Shit! You fell asleep on the floor. You raise your head and back off the ground. Which were both in excruciating amount of pain from both crying and passing out on the wooden floor. “I’m fine.. I’m fine..” You repeat, trying to brush off all her questions. You had no good excuse for them and you didn’t want to tell the truth. ‘Oh yeah I went to a party, then got fingered by Patrick, then came to the realization that he has a girlfriend and i’m just a home wrecker!’ That’s not something you’d like your mom to know. “Well you have a therapy session today. Get ready and meet me downstairs..” You gave her a quick thumbs up in response as she left the room.
You got up from the floor and lazily stretched every part of your body. Man, that was a really uncomfortable position you slept in. You stumbled over to the bathroom and practically got jump scared when you saw your reflection in the mirror. “Oh no…” You looked at your dried up mascara that covered your cheeks, your smudge out lip stick, and your patchy foundation. Your head was killing you and you smelled like alcohol. Great, not only do you look like shit but you also feel like shit. No offense.
You aggressively splashed water onto your face; scrubbed all the dirt and late night regrets off. You thought it would make you feel more refreshed but you still felt disgusted by yourself. Great, on the bright side at least you’ll have something to talk about with your therapist. Even though in reality it’ll probably be another awkward silent session as usual.
Once you were finally finished getting ready you walked downstairs. Every step was irritating your headache. Stupid hangover. You walked over to the kitchen to chug down a glass of water. “Oh good, you’re ready. Let me use the bathroom and then we’ll get going.” Your mom said, before giving you a kiss on your cheek and then walking off. You drank half of your glass yet your head was still killing you. You walked over to the medicine cabinet that has a lock on it due to the countless of times you tried to steal your dad’s anti-depressants when you were ten. Eight years passed and you’re still secretly doing that. Which is why you know how to pick the lock on it with a hair clip. When it’s unlocked you grabbed the Tylenol and plopped it into your mouth. Quickly chasing it down with water. When you heard the toilet flush you quickly put the Tylenol back and locked the cabinet.
The car ride to therapy was quiet as always. The last time you had a fun loud car ride with your parents was… Never actually. It’s like from the moment you were born you were just sad. The one time you actually had a fun loud car ride was last night with Patrick. The last person you want to have on your mind right now.
“Mom..” You managed to speak up. Her focused face softened up when she heard your voice like it was some rare thing to witness. “Yes? What is it?” You bounced your leg up and down nervously. There wasn’t anything specific you were afraid of saying. It’s just the concept of opening up that made your stomach churn. So you kept it bland. “I don’t want to hangout with Patrick anymore..” You answered quietly. Almost inaudible. You looked up at her to watch her reaction. She let out a soft sigh as if she was expecting this a little and she was sad you proved her right. “Why exactly? Did he do something to you?” She asked worriedly. “No he didn’t,” lie. “I just don’t want to see him anymore.” You looked down, refusing to meet her eyes. You didn’t want to see her reaction anymore. In fact you didn’t even want her to have a reaction. You just hopped she would say okay with no questions asked. But unfortunately that’s not the kind of woman she is.
“Then why?” She started off. You didn’t say anything back because you knew that wasn’t the end of it. “I just… I don’t understand you. I never did. If he didn’t do anything wrong why do you want to push him away? Do you just simply not like him or is there something you’re not telling me? Please tell me so I can wrap my head around this.” She had good intention. She truly did want to understand you. But how can she understand you when you can’t even understand yourself? How can anyone understand you? “I’m sorry mom. I just don’t want to, okay?” She pulled into the parking lot and turned off the car before you heard her mumble out a small ‘okay.’ You didn’t say goodbye as you opened the car door and stepped out. “I love you.” You heard her say before you could close the door. You turned around to face her again and you felt your heart pang as you saw the wistful look on her face. This ‘i love you’ was different than most of the one she tells you. This one sounded real instead of just pity. You looked down; putting your focus on your beat up shoes, knowing that if you looked at her for any longer you would start tearing up. “Yeah mom, I love you too.” And the door shut.
“It’s nice to see you again.” Your therapist said as you sat down. “Morning..” You replied. Minutes of questions being answered with empty sentences passed quickly. There we’re still a lot of time left though. It was quiet as usual. The only sound you heard was the ticking clock that felt like punches to your brain and your therapist heavy mouth breathing which was… aggravating. For once in your life you couldn’t deal with the silence. Not just because you actually had something to get off of your chest but also because this silence wasn’t the peaceful one you prefer. “I did something bad..” You said. She looked up at you from her notepad. She almost looked happy that you’re finally saying something. Of course she hid it well though. “What did you do?” You played with the hem of your shirt as you sunk into the chair. All of a sudden feeling a tight squeeze in your throat that was stopping words from coming out. Your therapist was a patient woman though. So you struggling wasn’t a big deal to her. “I umm.. I got with a guy and..” Your internal monologue was screaming at you to just spit it out but your mouth was tensed up and refused to work. “I don’t think i’m a good person..” You choked out meekly. You felt the wetness in your eyes start to spill out. You couldn’t believe you were crying. In front of the one person who can’t give you comfort. Your therapist just slid the box of tissue towards you and asked, “can you explain this more?”
You took the tissues out of the box and wiped your tears away. You then held on tightly to the now wet tissue like it was your emotional support blanket. “He has a girlfriend. And we got physical recently.” You explained to her. You only got two sentences out before the cries came back. “I want him to love me badly. But it’s obvious he loves his girlfriend more. I don’t even know why he would kiss me or anything…” You whispered through broken breaths. She wrote something in her notepad while you just looked down at your lap. She said some things that you should listen to, but instead you tuned her out and just tried to wipe all of your memories with Patrick away.
The second you got back home you went onto your phone and blocked Patrick from your messages. You wanted to forget all about him. Pretend everything that happened last night never happened. Things are probably better that way.
As days went on Patrick constantly tried to text you.
“Good Morning!”
“Last night was great. I’m up for another round 😉”
“Hey, are you there?”
“Are you okay?”
“Why aren’t you texting back?”
“When you see this text me back!”
“Are you ghosting me?”
“Did something happen?”
All left on delivered.
It was early in the morning (actually 11 am but that’s early for you) when you heard a knock on your door. Nobody else was home, just you. You got up from your slumber and went downstairs to see who could it be. When you looked into the peephole of your door your brain instantly woke up. It was Patrick Fucking Zweig. What the hell was he doing here? You didn’t open the door. Just waited for him to leave. Instead you were met with a even louder and harder knock. “Open the door! I know you’re in there because where the hell else would you be?” Damn he’s good. “I just want to talk so open this damn door..” He said calmer but still stern. Your body moved faster than your head and all of a sudden your unlocking the door. He pushes the door open and walks inside, not even waiting for a invite, causing you to stumble back. He looks pissed.
“Why the fuck have you been ignoring all of my messages?” Patrick immediately interrogates you. Getting all up in your face and jabbing his finger in your face. “I umm..” You were like a bundle of nerves, voice was trembling even though you just got one word out. “Block. You are blocked— on my phone!” Your words messily tumbled out. “Why am I blocked? The fuck did i do?” He asked as he laid back on your couch. Some sounds stuttered out of your mouth but not actual words. Seeing him so.. Unbothered? Really messed you up. You ran your hand through your messy bed head, just making it worse. “What am I to you?” You suddenly asked. “What?” He sounded clueless. Like that was the last thing he expected you to say. “Get out. I can’t deal with you..” Your voice quivered as you talked, trailing off to a whisper.
Patrick stood up abruptly, he was about to tower over you but before he could he was met with a pillow being smacked into his face. “What the hell-” “Get the hell out!” You interrupted loudly. The most loud you ever spoken. When he didn’t move and instead just kept staring at you with a unreadable expression, he was met with more hits. “I said get out! I can’t deal with you!” You yelled at him, ignoring the growing tears in your eyes. Before you could get one more hit out you felt his hands suddenly cup your cheeks and crashed his lips onto yours. Pulling you into one rough kiss. You wanted to fight back and protest but instead you reacted pathetically and melted into him.
Patrick’s lips never left yours as he carried you upstairs to your bedroom. His arms felt great wrapped around you. So warm and strong. You really hopped this feeling wouldn’t go away. When he reached the bedroom he kicked the door behind him close and walked over to your bed to gently laid you down. Much different than the kiss you just shared. His hands traced over your nightgown, feeling every curve beneath it, as if he was trying to memorize it. When his hands reached the bottom of the nightgown he scrunched it up around your hips, revealing the buttered yellow cotton underwear you were wearing. You felt a little embarrassed by the fact it wasn’t some sexy thong he probably saw a million of girls wear.
Patrick moved onto the bed and laid in between your legs. He started peppering small kisses on the inner part of both of your thighs, causing your breath to hitch. Once his lips got closer to your crotch he began to tug your panties to the side. He didn’t wait for verbal consent. He could tell how badly you unfortunately wanted him. He started giving your clit wet, slow kisses that made you breathe heavier. Your legs began to shake as his tongue then grazed your entrance. When he felt you moving he instantly grabbed onto your thighs, not stopping his mouth movements on your cunt.
More moans left your lips as he started to speed up, lapping up your wetness like a starving man. You felt the tip of his nose press against your little nub and began to feel yourself get closer to your climax. “Patrick..” you said quietly, followed by a sweet cry. “Hm?” He looked up at you despite the fact you were avoiding eye contact. A high desperate sound escaped your lips as you tried to speak up but couldn’t. You didn’t have to though because he already knew that you were close from the way your pussy started to clench and pulse. “Let it out baby.. I got you.” He encouraged you before diving his tongue back into you. His movements were much faster this time, just to make you cum more. You started to feel your belly clench as your orgasm crashes through you.
You both laid there for a second, taking a moment to catch your breath, when Patrick pulled away and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. He sat back and looked down at your flushed face expression. You were in such a satisfied state, giving you the perfect after-glow look. He couldn’t help but feel proud of himself knowing that he caused that.
“You know, you don’t have to wait for me to tell you to cum. You can just do it.” Patrick stated. You opened your eyes up more and looked up at him. “What?” Your voice was a lot more meek than expected. “It seems like you just kind of wait for me to tell you to cum. I’m just saying you don’t have to wait for my approval.” You honestly didn’t even notice you were doing that. It’s surprising he even noticed that too. Guess he’s an observer. “Take it off.” He nodded over to your nightgown. It wasn’t a ask, he was simply telling you to. You complied and slipped your nightie off. You then felt his hands grab onto your hips to lift them up. Putting you into a more spread out position.
You started to hear some fabric ruffling noises, which told you that he was taking off his clothes. When you looked up your eyes immediately fell onto his naked torso. You have never seen him shirtless before, but now that you have it felt like the equivalent of seeing jesus. Wait, you can’t think that… You’ve seen shirtless guys many times before. Like a year ago when you saw from the corner of your eye guys practicing football half naked. Or movies you would sneak watch at sleepovers. This is different though. It’s not a hot guy from a movie or a peaked in high school guy you only saw in the glimpse of your eye. This is real life. He had really good muscles. Like perfectly defined muscles. Not to mention the impressive amount of body hair he had. It’s thick and un groomed which out loud sounds unattractive but it oddly fits him. Your eyes trailed down his v-line, then happy trail that went directly down to a mess. A dense, dark nest of hair wrapped around the base of his cock.
“You horny thing..” Patrick laughed to himself, snapping you straight out of your trance of lust. He caught you staring and loved it. He was smug about it because of how much it fueled his ego. Made him feel like a god.
He grabbed onto his length, stroking it a little bit over your entrance, before finally slipping it in, making a soft moan escape your lips. Seeing you just split open on his cock made him practically salivate. How your eyes fluttered, mouth fall apart in a perfect ‘oh’, he would sell his soul to see you like this everyday. It was almost like a piece of art. He couldn’t help himself and his hands started exploring every part of you. Grabbing onto your waist, your shoulders, your breast, everywhere. He leaned down to press sloppy, needy kisses all over your throat that you’re going to have to cover with pounds of concealer next time you go to church, as his thrust began to speed up. One of his hands slipped down to rub his thumb onto your clit, wanting to get more noises out of you. His plan, of course, worked.
“God… Your so tight.. You a virgin?” He suddenly asked. “Mmhm..” You gently nodded your head. Patrick didn’t change his pace, but he did get much gentler. His free hand went up to cradle the back of your head, pulling it up to make your lips meet his. He pressed soft kisses against you, much different from the conceited persona he often presents himself as. He lifts your legs around his waist as he slides deeper into your body, making your legs wrap around him even tighter. When he pulls his lips away from you a desperate whimper immediately comes out of you. Not wanting him to leave ever. “Shh.. I’m here.” He reassured you gently, pressing slow kisses onto your cheeks. He felt so amazing inside of you. Pressing himself places you didn’t even know existed, making you cry out for more.
Your breathing started to get heavy, sweat dripped from your forehead, eyes struggled to stay open, back arched pushing your chest out. All from the intense love making you were experiencing. Patrick moved his hand from your head and moved it down to rub your back. His fingers sensually traced down your spine. He lowered his head down to suck on your breast. You groaned as his tongue swirled around your nipple. Your hand tangled into his sweaty, black curls. He had you wrapped around his finger, or dick, and you didn’t want to get unwrapped. You both were right where you yearned to be.
Patrick tried to keep his mind from drifting too far in a serious direction because he always wanted to see it as just a quick fun little fuck, but he knows you wouldn’t feel the same way. Hell, deep down he wouldn’t either. No one made him feel this good, this hungry, this… Desperate. When you ghosted him it broke him. All he dreamed of was your touch. Even if it was just a little. The simple thought of you holding his hand would make him wake up wet.
Your pussy began to clench around him as you suddenly bloomed. A warm released spilled out of you. Patrick’s thrust slowed down but went deeper than before. Both of you eagerly grinding your hips against each other, trying to drag on your orgasm. As both of your skin wetly slapped against each other your moans quickened and got louder. Hands gripping onto his shoulder, not wanting to let go. He started to feel his release build up and quickly pulled out. His hand that was originally on your clit left to stroke himself at a frantic speed. Low, rough groans of “uh, uh, uh” tore from him. He felt his body vibrate violently as he released his seed onto your chest and stomach.
Patrick slumped down over you, head stuffed into your collar bone. Your hands wrapped around him, pulling into a tight embrace. You gently stroked his curls while he kissed your neck. This moment felt perfect… Too perfect.
“Patrick?” He didn’t look up when he heard his name. Just let out a simple, “hm?” You hesitated before finally asking, “why do you only love me when I’m naked for you?” Patrick immediately stopped his kisses. The air in the room quickly became tense. You said something wrong. He pulled away from you without a word. He stepped off the bed and started putting on his clothes. “Where are you going?” You asked, trying your best to keep your composure. “I need to go.” He bluntly answered. His voice was completely empty. “Why? Please don’t go..” Your voice slightly cracked as you begged for him to come back. Just like old times when you had no one. “I need to go.” He repeated. He walked over to the door, opening it up. Before walking out of the door he looked over at you. Letting your disheveled look sink in. You swear you saw a flash of guilt go across his eyes. He turned his back away from you and walked out the door. Shutting it close behind him. You felt tears start to run down your face.
You couldn’t stop them, as usual. They were not just sad tears. They were angry, filled with regret. You regretted letting him in again, regretted letting him touch you, regretted letting him kiss you. But most of all, you regretted the fact you felt like you guys could actually be something. You felt stupid for thinking this could be anything special. You hated how desperate you were for his love. If only he could love you completely. Not just when you’re nude
synopsis : after having a shit week, cook needed something or someone to help relieve his stress . . .
c.w. canon ss7 cook (no charlie and emma) , afab reader , established relationship , dry humping , rough sex , p in v , cowgirl , doggystyle , unprotected sex , slight aftercare ! mdni
w.c. 2.1k
⩩ author notes : hiii so this is my first fic (that i've ever posted, not written) and i'm a little nervous about other people reading my work. i've been reading fan fics for years but never thought about being the one who wrote them! i'm honestly not even sure if this will work out long term but i really wanted to put this fic out there incase someone loves it. i've been in love with jack o'connell for 9 months now and have watched him in at least 14 things...
┇ likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated! ❤︎
cook hated weeks like this. weeks that felt never ending, as if it was something inescapable. every passing day felt worse than the last and cook didn’t know how much longer until he would find himself in hot water with louie or some other dealer. he hated what he now did for a living, but what else was out there for him? after slaughtering the man who killed his best friend and taking the few years in prison, cook felt he didn't have much of a choice given his blank resume and lack of a higher education. before working under louie, cook worked a dead-end job at a petrol station which is where he ended up being recruited from. he was lured over the idea of a better salary, more flexibility, and the security that came with working with louie who was known at the time as manchester’s most untouchable drug lord.
cook was now 2 years deep into this job, and while the highs were high, the lows were very low with the worst thing being when someone broke into his car and stole drugs worth thousands of pounds. however, the best thing that happened to him was meeting you. he had met you during a drug run when one of your friends needed a little something before a party both of you were going to, and you only came along because you needed the ride and to keep your friend safe. you remember cook meeting your friend outside a run down flat and quickly exchanging the money and drugs to each other’s hands. you were honestly uncomfortable during this interaction so you stood a little bit behind your friend as they casually chatted each other up. cook titled his head to see past your friend and was eyeing you up, you weren’t even paying attention to him.
“you gonna introduce me to your friend there?”, he said as he continued to look at you, more so admiring the way you looked. he could have easily mistaken you as some model type girl, and he was into that. your friend quickly looks back at you, “oh my gosh, yeah that’s my fucking girl. we’ve been friends for about 3-ish years now? she doesn’t do drugs if that’s what you’re thinking, cook.” ‘cook?’ you thought, what kind of name is that? a coverup name?
now you and cook are making eye contact. under the dim light of the building, you can clearly see he isn’t as sketchy as you previously imagined. he was actually handsome. too handsome to just be selling drugs. you step forward as to not seem rude because even though he was a drug dealer, you felt inclined to be kind. “mm pleasure to meet ‘ya…?” he holds out his hand waiting for you to shake it. you finish his sentence with your name as you put your freshly manicured hand into his and give it a shy shake. his hand is cold from being outside, and you can feel how tense he is.
your friend wraps up their conversation with cook and begins walking back to the car that was still on and running. you only look back once to see cook still looking at you, and you give him a small smile as a way of saying bye. he nods his head up boyishly in return. charming, you thought.
ever since that tiny interaction, cook hadn’t thought about much else. he had found your instagram through your friend and immediately requested to follow. he knew there was a chance you would decline his request, and he would respect that but a small part of him would keep trying anyway. eventually, you did accept his request and he spent a whole night looking at every post, every story, every comment, and every follower on your account. he DM’ed you the next day, and you two immediately hit it off. it started casual at first with drinks at a pub and dinner dates until it became him coming over to your place and making you cum nonstop until sunrise. he hadn’t felt this kind of love before — not since effy. some days, cook would find himself in his freshly cleaned flat with dinner already made after coming home from a long day of dealing, he almost couldn’t believe how he was deserving of this after everything he’s done and been through. you were always there for cook no matter what, especially when he was having bad days.
cook was having a horrible week and you knew it, it was evident in his behaviour that he was overworked and overwhelmed from the amount of jobs louie was assigning him. you understood there wasn’t much to help ease the burden of his demanding job, so you did what you could. it was 10pm on a thursday evening when cook got home and was clearly stressed out from the day he just had. he dropped all his stuff at the door sluggishly and joined you on the couch near his TV quietly playing some random reality show you were watching to pass the time. you were already in your pyjamas and ready for bed.
“hi baby, i’ve been missing you”, you coo softly as you smoothed a hand through his cropped hair, and he leans into your touch without being aware of it. he holds the demeanour of a kicked puppy.
“m’sorry i’m late, some bloke didn’t ‘ave the money for the drugs he requested…and i’m behind on my weekly quota so louie had me-” you interrupted his rambling with a soft kiss to his lips, no longer wanting him to relive his shitty day. cook raises his hand to hold the back of your head, and you slowly start to climb over him so that you are now straddling him. as you begin to deepen the kiss, you grind yourself into his lap which earns a small groan from cook, moving his hands down to your hips. you make out with him for what feels like a whole minute before you pull away from his lips slightly, continuing to slowly rub yourself over his jeans.
“cook…i can tell you’re stressed and.. i want to be helpful to you….”, you mutter inbetween kisses. his eyes shift between your eyes and your lips. “what d’you mean?’, he says almost whispering. “i mean that… if you’re angry or upset, i can always help you.. release it..” cook holds your hips in place so that you stop moving. you continue, “i want to fuck the stress out of you..” cook looks away for a moment, genuinely contemplating if he should take you up on your offer but the ache he begins to feel beneath his boxers tell him his answer. he looks back at you and nods viciously while forcing his lips back onto yours, clearly ready to let go of all the stress he was carrying. you eventually pull away again to quickly slide off your pyjama pants and underwear, and remove cook’s belt and undo his jeans. he’s already hard as a rock and pre-cum was starting to dribble out. you situate yourself on his lap again and begin to slowly sink down onto his cock, moaning into the side of his neck.
“fuckin’ hell, babe” he grunts out as he grips the sides of your ass for dear life. you start bouncing on his cock as fast as you can with your hands holding his shoulders for balance, earning a few groans and whimpers from cook. “is that good baby? you like that?” you say almost incoherently as you begin to lose your breath from riding him so fast. cook nods his head immediately, “f-feels fuckin’ amazing, i love it” he mumbles as he watches your breasts bounce every time you slam down on his cock.
almost as quickly as you started, your hips began to stutter from exhaustion. “mm-please…switch now” you mumble out of breath, cook nods and gestures you to get up so he can stand. you lay back down on the couch with your ass arched up in the air and your face buried into the cushions as cook peels his shirt off and throws it behind him. he puts both knees down on the couch and pulls you closer to him, steadying himself with one hand on the back cushion and one hand gripping the fat of your ass. he aligns himself with your dripping pussy and pushes himself through your folds, bumping the head of his cock into your swollen clit. without wasting time, he buries his cock inside you and begins thrusting as if he’s using a fleshlight. this is what cook needed all along; a rough fuck that could erase all his thoughts and all the stresses of his job. you cry out from the suddenness of his thrusts as he digs his rough fingers into the soft skin of your hips, guaranteed to leave bruises later.
“c-cook..s’too much oh!” you whimper loudly, but your voice is barely audible over the sounds of skin slapping and the couch creaking. he curses brokenly under his breath, “i know babe, i know it’s a lot.. i fuckin’ need this. i need you creamin’ on me cock like a good girl” he manages to breathe out as his thrusts deepen. you start to feel yourself unravel, unable to control the whimpers and cries that leave your lips every few seconds. the way cook is fucking you is obscene — he was taking out all his pent up anger and stress of his day—his week—his life—onto your pussy and god did it feel euphoric, to be pounded as hard as you were. when you had told him you wanted to be helpful, you really meant it. he slowed down slightly as he slid one hand between the front of your legs towards your clit which was now throbbing and waiting to be touched. “oohh fuucckk!”, you moaned loudly into your elbow. you felt yourself tighten your grip on his cock as your eyes rolled back slightly. he began to rub your clit in tight circles while his thrusts got meaner and meaner by the second.
“m’gonna cum cook…please d-don’t stop it feels so good” you were getting closer and closer to your orgasm with every thrust, it was approaching like a freight train and you knew cook felt the same. “m’not—shit—stoppin’—not when you’re grippin’ me like tha’”. the way the couch creaked beneath you could’ve been heard throughout the entire hallway of his floor, it was unmistakable what the two of you were doing.
your orgasm hit soon after, and a blinding wave of pleasure climbed throughout your body — you don’t think you’ve ever came that hard in your life. a gush of slick coated cook’s pelvis and dripped to the cushion beneath you as cook’s orgasm followed suit. his breath hitches—letting out a whimper, a broken curse, and an unintelligible praise towards you. you felt him release his warm cum inside you, shooting out in waves that leave you feeling full of him. your knees slip on the cushion as your body gives out during the aftershocks, falling onto your front and desperately attempting to catch your breath while cook did the same.
using his forearm, he wiped the beading sweat at his forehead. if anyone saw him now they would’ve thought he just ran a marathon from the amount of sweat coating him and his cheeks dusted with a light pink hue. he watches you beneath him catching your breath as his cum slowly but surely begins to spill out of your wrecked pussy. he smoothes a hand over your trembling body and leans down to fill the spot next to you, you turn to face him. he brings his hand up to caress the back of your head and you kiss his lips gently, huffing out a small laugh at his exhausted appearance.
“was that alright? i hope i didn’t hurt you..” he mumbles earnestly, realizing he could’ve injured you in some way. “i’m okay baby, don’t worry. how are you feeling?” you reply honestly. “m’sound” he laughs a little as the stress that once occupied every nerve in his body now evaporated like smoke. cook knew this feeling would not last for very long as the week wasn’t over and done with just yet, but he let’s himself enjoy this moment with you.
you notice cook’s mind wandering off, and press another gentle kiss to his lips to ground him once more. “everything’s gonna be okay, cook. i’m always gonna be here for you whether your day is good or bad…you hear me? i love you” he stares into your eyes for a moment, not wanting to be overly vulnerable. “love you so much more” he whispers with a smile and kisses you once more.
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