Off Script (2)
SRAR Actor ! Patrick Stump x Fem Actress ! Reader
pt. 1 / pt. 2
Authors note: PART 2 IS HERE YAY!! I hope you guys like iiiiit :3 ALSO PLEASE LEAVE SOME REQUESTS/IDEAS IN MY ASKS!! I have like zero ideas right now :P
Summary: Pete nudges you to help Patrick in his dressing room trailer, and since you want to ease the post-scene tension, you do. Patrick's nervousness is obvious. You can't help but want to take a bite.
In this fic: Pete is Patrick's unwanted wingman (again), Patrick was jerking it in his dressing room trailer lowkey, Patrick is nervous around Reader, Patrick doesn't have an official makeup artist because plot, sub Patrick, dom Reader, sex in Patrick's dressing room trailer, sex on a couch, oral (f receiving), Patrick is a munch, eats it through panties, Patrick jerks off into Readers panties, nicknames (baby, sweetheart, ma'am), P in V, unprotected sex, Reader rides Patrick, cums while cock warming(?), overstimulated riding, multiple orgasms, multiple creampies, some lazy aftercare, caught after the fact (kinda), Pete wants to know all the details
Word count: 3752
~ NSFW UNDER CUT ~
You felt a little bad about the scene, even though you weren't the one who wrote it in. Patrick was clearly a sweet guy, and you might have overdone it by getting too touchy.
Whenever you had scenes like this (ones where it felt like crossing a boundary, even though you knew it was all fake), you tried to smooth over the tension with food as a peace offering. That's why you came back to the camera-filled room with a paper cup of water and some packaged pretzels.
"You just missed him."
You jump slightly at hearing Pete behind you, spilling some of the water onto your costume with a curse. You turn to face the smug man, his smile showing he knew something you didn't.
He uses his head to gesture towards Patrick's dressing room trailer. "He went to fix his makeup or somethin. The man is soaked in sweat; you'd think he ran a marathon.” He took note of the things in your hand, smirking, “I'm sure he'd appreciate the water and a helping hand, yknow, with the makeup and all.”
You give a hesitant hiss, “I don't want to overstep-” he quickly stops you with a dismissive wave of his hand, tching, “Oh please- he’d do anything for you to ‘overstep’,” he quoted the word with a roll of his eyes, “Man's hopeless to ladies like you. He’d love your help, makeup or more. He’ll go home happy you got close without a camera out to judge his every move.”
You blink at the man like he's grown a second head, his hint of a suggestion turned blunt, offering his friend on a silver platter without his knowing or input.
He gives a shrug at your reaction, or lack thereof. “What? I know my Patrick. If you're even the slightest bit interested, he'll jump. He’s sweet but still a dude.” That gets a laugh out of you. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you mumble before stepping away to leave the hospital set, coincidentally choosing the exit closest to the dressing room trailers.
Pete gives himself a pat on the back when he sees the direction you leave. Patrick owes him big time.
—
You gave a soft knock on the door labeled “Patrick Stump,” trying to stay balanced on the toes of your uncomfortable high heels on the thin steps leading into the trailer.
You could hear quick shuffling on the other side of the door before the steps drew closer. Patrick opened it, out of breath and somehow more sweaty than when he left the set. The second he met your eyes, it was like the color from his face evaporated.
You didn't point it out, nor did you try to tease about how his state made it look like he was caught with his pants down; instead, you handed him the cup of water and off-brand pretzels. "Can I, uh- mind if I step inside? I can help with your makeup or yknow… keep you company." You offered with a soft smile.
Patrick hid his face behind the door for just a moment, cursing all the gods above. He had no real reason to deny you, nor did he really want to. Emerging with a strained smile, he stepped aside to let you in. “Of course, I could use the conversation.”
You push through the tension, feigning your own nonchalance to invite him to loosen up. It takes a bit, but it works, at least enough for him to admit defeat in his attempt to fix his makeup and ask for some much-needed help.
This resulted in him leaning back against the vanity desk, legs spread just enough for you to slot yourself between them. One of your hands held his chin in place, the other working to define the overly smudged blood.
His eyes were clamped shut, hands gripping the desk to keep from accidentally bumping into you as you worked on his face. Your proximity made him acutely aware of his breathing, his chest now barely rising and falling with each breath.
You, of course, notice it. The tension in his body is so tight that he might crack under even the slightest bit of pressure. Your hands pause their movements as you examine his features more closely.
His face is flushed from not getting enough oxygen, eyes twitching in small fits despite being closed, tongue darting out to wet his lips every few minutes to keep from getting chapped. Sure, you thought he was cute before, but the small fidgets that show his obvious nervousness make you want to take a bite out of him.
After a long moment of you doing nothing, curiosity gets the better of him, his lashes fluttering open to meet your gaze for a beat before asking, "Something wrong?" His voice was slightly breathless. The sound makes you take a deep inhalation and blurt out, "Do you wanna fuck?" before you lose your nerve.
He sputters at the question, his head pulling back from your hand as he looks around, almost like he thought you were asking someone else, not him, the only other person in the room.
A nervous laugh escapes him, “I’m sorry? I- what?” A new wave of nervous sweat seemed to overtake him, his breathing coming out in even shorter bursts. “Did Pete send you up to do this? To mess with me? Whatever he asked you to do, forget about it-”
He began to try and stand up from the vanity, his face a cocktail of embarrassment and annoyance. He wanted to make his way to Pete and give him a piece of his mind, to tell him that the bar was one thing and the workplace was another. Before he could take a single step away from the vanity, you stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
“I wanted to be here,” was all you said, your eyes meeting his with a soft certainty that made his breath catch.
—
After he double, triple, and quadruple-checked that the door was locked, Patrick found himself lying on the shitty dressing room couch, leaving only his leather jacket behind. Your hips were now hovering over his face, taunting like a piece of candy just out of reach.
He took in a shaky breath, tongue darting out to wet his lips, gaze lingering on the small triangle of red lace covering you, silently wondering how uncomfortable it must be. "Can I?" He asked in a soft whisper, his eyes lifting to meet yours just over the hem of your dress.
You let a hand run through his hair before settling into the arm of the couch in front of you, smirking at how polite he was. "Depends. You gonna be good for me? Gonna listen?" getting an immediate nod from him, his hands coming up to grip your thighs, desperate to bring you closer.
You don't even bother to push your panties aside as your hips lowered, gasping when his head lifts to meet you halfway. His tongue starts with a long flat stripe, eyes fluttering shut, whining at the muted taste. His mouth works quickly to soak your panties with his spit, needing to ensure you felt everything he could give, despite the barrier.
With each perfect swipe of his tongue, he's rewarded with the softest of moans, quiet but just as damaging. “Oh- mngh… fuck- Patrick.“You lift the hem of your dress, getting a better view of him working you over the soaked lace.
He's clearly a man on a mission, like if he works hard enough the barrier would dissolve on his tongue. The effort is enough to make you giggle through a bitten lip. “Want me to take them off, baby? Wanna get a real taste of this pussy?”
His eyes snapped open, immediately finding yours with a groan, nodding the best he could without his mouth leaving you. Despite his eager agreement, his hands instinctively gripped your thighs harder, keeping you seated regardless of his need to have you bare on his lips.
Having not expected the offer to make him dive deeper, a loud, surprised moan clawed its way out. Your hand shot down to grab a fistful of his hair, hips instinctively chasing the pleasure. “shit! Patrick- gotta let me get up. can’t-fuck-can’t take ‘em off when you’re doing that-“ you choke out through gasps.
After one final suck, his grip loosens for you to take the panties off. You let him drool over the sight as you rehover over his face, too focused on your dripping arousal to notice the panties still in your hand.
“Get your cock out, baby.” You give the order in a sweet whisper, laughing when his hands move like lightning to undo his belt. It takes a matter of seconds for him to push down both his jeans and boxers, letting his dick spring free.
Leaning back, you give it a few pumps with your panties, getting a hiss of pleasure from Patrick, his hips jerking into your lace-covered fist. “Cute,” you tease as you watch him fall apart from the slightest bit of attention, his nails leaving the faintest crescent moons on your thighs, writhing in embarrassment from how close he already was from the slightest bit of attention.
He whines as your hand lifts from him, your panties still hanging off his dick. Your fingers tangle in his hair, forcing him to refocus on you. “Jerk off with my panties while you eat me out, mkay? And don’t cum until I do, understood?”
A whimper left his lips; part of him wanted to deny the order. It felt too pervy for his taste. Then again, another part of him couldn't help but get a little thrilled at the idea of doing something so dirty. His inner turmoil was cut short when your hand tugged at the roots of his hair, enough to make him wince.
“I asked a question, sweetheart. Yes or no, do you understand?”
A louder, choked-out moan left his lips, nodding despite the iron grip you had on his hair. “Yes- yes. Understood, ma'am. Sorry- so fucking sorry-” he began to ramble, breathless. “Please- I’ll be good. I’ll be good for you.”
The title made you raise a brow. Clearly, he was right where he wanted to be. And gods, you could get used to the sight of him trembling beneath you. The power trip it gave you was enough to get addicted.
Your grip loosened, now giving soothing pets, “I know you will. Go on, make me cum, baby.” you hum, hips lowering once more.
He wastes no time, making out with your pussy like his life depends on it. Groaning into the heat as his free hand makes a fist around his dick, keeping the panties in place just as you ordered. His other hand digs into the thick of your thigh, making sure you don’t leave his lips before he's completely satisfied.
“That’s it, baby. You like it? Like when I ride your face? Like how I use your mouth like it's my personal fuckin toy?” You whisper between choked-out moans, trying to keep up the dominant facade.
He nods, using the response to move his tongue from your clit to your entrance, tongue fucking into you as his nose pressed against your clit. The man was completely blissed out, greedy sounds spilling from his lips as he devoured you.
The sudden addition of pleasure makes your body lurch forward, both hands having to grip onto the couch for support. “Oh Jesus- fuck! You're good at this-“ you let out a weak laugh, cutting it short with a moan. “Never had a mouth this good, baby. fuck- gonna make me cum.” Your voice got weaker, more breathy as you quickly approached your peak.
The praise made him fuck into your panties faster, other hand digging deeper into your thigh, silently begging you to come undone before he lost his mind. “Mngh- suck my clit again, baby. I’m close-shit-I’m so fucking close.” The words came out less like an order and more like a plea as your hips rut against his mouth.
He listened immediately, working your sweet bundle of nerves until your thighs were clamping around his head. “Oh fUck-!!” you gasped out, hips rolling against his mouth as the waves of pleasure crashed through you. On instinct, your hips lifted once overstimulated, chest heaving from the pleasure as your legs began to lessen in their shakes.
Once your body catches up with you, you look down, finding him looking up at you with glassy eyes, biting his bottom lip as he keeps fucking your panties. He was getting off on how blissed out you looked, how beautiful you were from this angle.
You give a tired smile, hand coming down to caress his face. “You cum yet?” you ask softly, voice rough from the moans. He replies with a quick shake of his head, “No, ma'am,” between panted breaths.
That gets him a soft pat on the face, humming as you scoot your body down, hips now aligned with his. “You listen so well, yknow that? That deserves a reward, don’t you think?” you whisper, leaving soft pecks on his lips, sweet in its taste but not long enough to be satisfying.
He gives a soft nod, eyes still locked with yours in a hunger-filled haze, swallowing hard. “Yes. Anything- I’ll take anything,” he whispered against your lips, desperate for anything more than your wet panties against him.
Nipping at his bottom lip, you push his fisted hand aside, throwing the unsalvageable red lace elsewhere. Your hips move to grind down against his, getting a whimper of pleasure from him, his face scrunching up as his head rolls back.
“Do you wanna fuck this pussy, baby? How do you want it? Want me to ride you? You’ve been so good, I’ll let you take over-“ he cuts you off with a violent shake of his head “No- no, God- need you to ride me. Please.” The idea alone has him gasping, dick pulsing under you
“Making me do all the work? Greedy, greedy man.” you teased, grinding down even harder, bordering on uncomfortable for him “don’t care- yes. Yes, I’m greedy. Just please- please use me-“
That gets a condescending laugh out of you, your hands moving quick to line him up before slamming your hips down. The burn is worth the pathetic moan that ripped from his throat: “Oh fUCK!” his hands shoot to grasp onto your hips, keeping you in place as his hips lift to make sure you're completely connected.
You stay settled on him, not moving until he’s writhing underneath, his hips moving desperately to get even the shallowest of thrusts. “Baby- please move. Been so good. Please.” he looks like he’s about to pass out from how hard he’s breathing, hyperventilating from the pleasure.
You give the slightest rock of your hips, smirking when Patrick let out a whorish moan, his cock pulsing frantically inside you.
“fuck, baby. How long has it been since you got some?” you teased. “Got me worried you’re some 30-year-old virgin with a gifted mouth.”
He let out a weak laugh, taking off his shirt as he shook his head, “too- too fucking long. god- never felt this fucking good though-“ he confessed through clenched teeth, already teetering on the edge.
“Already close, sweetheart? fuck, I’m flattered. I barely did anything.” You finally tease the zipper of your nurse costume, tugging it down completely before shedding the dress off.
He feels like a total fucking loser with the way the sight and cock warming has him trembling. The mixture is enough to make him cum on the spot, but he holds on. Gods- he just has to hold on.
You make a show of your chest, shoving his face between your tits. He’s quick to leave sloppy kisses at the swells, moaning against your skin. “fuck- I’m gonna cum- wait, wait- Ima cum.” he pants, pawing to lift your hips, whining when you don’t take any action to get off. “Go on, baby. cum with your face in my tits.”
The sounds he lets out are completely and utterly pathetic, his hips twitching upward as he comes undone, thick ropes shooting with enough pressure to tell you that you were either the best pussy he’s ever had, or he hasn’t jerked off for a good while. “fuck- fuckfuckfuck-“ he whines into your neck before going limp on the couch.
You don’t make any plan to get off; now teasing the red lace bra off. He lets out a meek sound, eyes looking you over like a piece of art. “Sorry…” he finally whispered out, his voice hoarse. “Didn’t mean t-“
Before he could finish the apology, you lift your hips and slam back down in a sharp motion, knocking the wind out of him as you start at a rough pace so suddenly.
You watch with a twisted smile as his hands scramble to find anything to keep him grounded, your hips moving too fast for his hands to hold onto. He digs his nails into the armrest above his head, eyes rolled back, a guttural groan escaping him as he tries his best to form words.
“B-baby! Too much! fuck- i can’t!” he’s gasping for air, legs kicking behind you. “Please! fuck-“ his eyes come back to focus, only to fixate on how your tits bounce, only worsening his already overstimulated state. “Oh my god- mngh!!”
“You can do it, sweetheart. don’t you wanna feel me cum all over your thick fuckin cock?” you tease, hands now behind you, holding onto his thighs for support.
he gives a quick nod, whimpering at the idea, “yes! wanna feel you- fucking take what you need. use it- use me.” he slurs between moans, eyes focusing and unfocusing on your body moving so beautifully above him.
The sight from earlier is nothing compared to how you look now, taking him so completely and without any sign of shame. He should feel embarrassed for being so submissive; usually he at least pretended that he wanted to be dominant, but being under you like this felt like a fucking dream. He could stay in this exact position for the next few weeks without any complaint.
You’re quick to bring your fingers down to your clit, using your middle and ring finger to make quick side-to-side motions as you ride him, the sound obscenely wet. Your thighs are burning like no fucking tomorrow, but the bragging rights of this moment are worth the soreness.
He lets out another whorish moan when he feels your gummy walls clamp around him, cursing loudly, “shit!! fuck- gonna cum? Please- please fucking cum on my dick.” he begs, hands now digging into your thighs with enough pressure that his knuckles go white.
You let your head fall back as your own high-pitched moan spills out. Your hand is still working at your clit in quick motions to match the pace of your hips. The second your hips falter, Patrick makes up for it by thrusting up, desperate to push you over the edge. “Fuck-! Patrick!” Your hips shudder against his, thighs tensing as you come undone with a string of broken moans.
Patrick keeps thrusting up as you ride out the waves of pleasure, watching your face as you cum, completely blissed out from his cock. The concept alone has him groaning, hands moving to squeeze your ass to keep himself hilted, spilling inside for the second time.
He lets the pleasure slowly subside before going limp again, on the brink of passing out from the exhaustion of his overstimulated body. “Holy- wow,” he pants out, eyes closing as his breathing tries to level out.
You’re still seated on him, legs still suffering from the aftermath tremors as you smile down at him. “That good?” you tease, rolling your hips despite your own exhaustion.
He’s quick to still your hips with both his hands, his strength surprising you. He didn’t look outwardly strong, but the grip alone showed he could have taken power at any point. You mentally keep note of that.
“Sorry,” you apologize softly, the dominant persona softening back to the sweet casual costar. You lean down to pepper his face with kisses, humming; he leans into each one. “It’s ok, just… too much. Actually, this time-” he whispers with a weak laugh.
A gentle silence between the both of you before you slowly lift off of him with a tired sigh.
His hands keep you from climbing off him completely. “I uh- I know this was just for fun, but can we just… lay together for a while?” He gives a nervous yet hopeful smile, praying he won’t scare you away for needing some aftercare.
You give a soft smile, nodding as you settle back on top of him, getting into a comfortable position to lie down. Your head tucks into the crevice of his neck, peppering soft kisses near his pulse. Patrick returns the soft gesture with gentle caresses to your back, humming a soft tune.
Patrick is the first to fall asleep, his hand slowing its caresses as he starts to snore softly. You give a soft roll of your eyes, leaving one last kiss on his temple before sleep takes you under.
—
The shared nap lasts only about half an hour before a violent, loud series of knocks echoes through the dressing room trailer, and muffled shouting is heard on the other side.
Patrick is quick to make sure he’s fully in his pants before giving you a blanket to cover up, not having time to look for your outfit before the person on the other side kicks the door down.
He opens the door to find the director and Pete. The director is fuming. Pete is annoyingly smug.
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what Patrick was doing and to whom. The director is pinching the bridge of his nose: “You have some serious explaining to do, Stump. We are behind schedule now, not to mention how HIGHLY unprofessional this whole…” He gestures into the trailer. “Thing is,” he hisses, voice stern.
Pete nods before adding, “Yeah, you have some serious explaining to do,” his tone completely different, smug and knowing, saying it in a way that can only be described as the nosy best friend who is dying for every single detail.
A/N: may come back to this little universe waaaaay later and add to it :P idk!! ALSO I started cross-posting on AO3 :3
ppl who wanted to be tagged :D @aceofheartsssss @mikeystumph
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