༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚.𝓇𝒾𝒹𝒾𝒸𝓊𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈𝓁𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔⡈ ⡠ ٭
patrick that is so disgustingly in love with you, so absolutely gone, to the point his whole body just gives under the pressure of his adoration.
between many, endless things that demonstrate to you just how much his body just radiates with love, kissing is certainly one of them.
having the smug, usually careless, borderline sociopathic patrick jane just melt into you, desperately at that, just proves to you how much his love is true.
his heavy palms holding your skull, his tall frame curling into itself as he leans into you, leaning desperately, as if every little move you give means you'll pull away. knees giving in slightly, not dramatically, just a tremor in his bones as he tries to bend his body to fit around your own.
he holds you with fear, almost, kisses you randomly when you're not even ready to meet the intensity his lips present yours. the need for you just coming out of his pores with how tightly he holds you. how his hands grip your jaw a little when your surprised self doesn't immediately reciprocate his spontaneous assault of your lips.
he wants you to feel just as intensely for him, wants you to be just as tortured as he is, so the moment you melt into him, when your loving arms embrace him back, his ever-screaming thoughts dissapear into static. his brain leaking out of his ears as your own lips move languidly against his, and the pink muscle that is your tongue, plush and slick with spit, hidden until then, traces his bottom lip teasingly.
causing his own tongue to wrap around yours, a syrupy exchange of dna, lazy and full of need that you're too lazy to act upon. too lazy, when all the licking and slurping just cause you to lean further into him, hold him closer and make his heart grow so big in his chest he can hear his ribs crack.
when you whine softly in response to the heat starting to form between you, the one that trails all over your body and ends between your thighs; your sound of pleasure is met with an even needier sound from him.
maybe a mock, but definitely an affirmation of the arousal that makes you two rub against each other like cats. a sound that you love hearing leave him, because even though you know he's repeating what he hears from you, it doesn't make it any less real.
so now, dizzy and hot, those tragic eyes of his having their pupils all blown, he just looks at you in awe. breathing like a dog, more truthful than he had ever allowed himself to be, in a pleasure drowned murmur, he speaks.
"i love you..." he declares, serious, sobered up from the pleasure, grim in his seriousness, as if this is a life or death situation that's leaning more towards death and he desperately needs you to hear it.
confession, which gains a loud laugh from you, and a reciprocation of his words, that causes him to laugh too in confusion. tension slightly melting into something sweet and familiar as you two bicker over your visible amusement. as if his words weren't painfully obvious when you could feel him through his dress pants.
ik he's so chalant matter of fact he's the most chalant if i'm allowed to say that
