here is a masterlist of most of what i've written about challengers! keep in mind that all works are fem reader insert as of now. :) i have also only included longer blurbs for now.
making him eat you out and obvs he's like devouring you but the glasses are getting foggy and falling off of his face so maybe you take a quick break from tugging on his hair to push them back up on his nose for him...
ooooooof art teased him so relentlessly about his glasses that he hides them constantly but it just does smth to u and when u walk in on him studying and demand he keep them on :((( who is he to deny u?
and patrick has internalized all of Artâs teasing (although it was just in good fun and Art didnât actually mean it) so he immediately gets embarrassed when new people see him in his glasses. it brings him back to a vulnerable time when he hadnât grown into himself. so youâre surprised to see him acting like thatâembarrassed. Itâs unlike the Patrick you know who is so unabashedly himself, charming, and charismatic. heâs reading a book; he actually wants to do well on his classic literature assignment because artâs in that class with him and his competitive streak comes out the most when it comes to him.
Patrick taking his glasses off immediately as you walk into his dorm room hiding them behind his chemistry textbook. He pretends not to hear you when you ask him when he got glassesâdoesnât answer until youâre leaning on his desk and clearing your throat.
âSince I was eleven.â He meets your eyes for just a second, before picking up where he left off.
âWhy donât you wear them? I had no idea.â
Patrick nibbles on the end of a pen. âContacts are better. And thatâs the point. Theyâre fucking hideous.â
And they arenât the most trendy glasses; thick black rims, square-ish shape. A little crooked since heâs had them for 6 years and doesnât take care of them.
âTheyâre cute.â You say, watching him struggle to read the page in front of him. He shifts in his seat, cheeks splashed with red and pink. âAre you embarrassed? Iâve never seen you like this.â You tilt his face so he looks at you but he just averts his eyes.
âNo. âM reading.â
âRight. Well I think theyâre really cute. You look studious in them. Hot.â
This time, he looks up at you, marking the page with his thumb. âStop lying.â
âPut them back on so I can see!â You reach for the glasses and he huffs, resting them on the end of his nose. You push them further up. âBe serious. You look really handsome.â
He looks up at you through his lashes and tries to hide a sweet smile, like he isnât used to being complimented like this.
He feels weird, too. Submissive and small as you run your hand through his hair.
âYour eyes look so pretty.â Your thumb swipes across the top of his cheek, down the bridge of his nose. Presses against his plush bottom lip. He whimpers.
âThanks,â he begins. but your thumb stays there and he opens his mouth to let you in, swirling his tongue around the digit before lightly sucking.
âSpit in my hand.â You hold your palm under his chin and he rolls his eyes, almost unable to keep it together. You, being in charge. But he obliges, letting a fat glob of saliva pool in your hand.
Your other hand works to untie his sweatpants and he just looks at you slack jawed because he didnât know he would like this. Being praised and being doted on like this.
You palm him over his boxers before taking him out. Coo in his ear about how he should wear his glasses more often and theyâre slipping down his nose because heâs looking at how you stroke his cock, his own spit making him slick. Hips jerking as you kiss him sweetly. He cums in two minutes, coating your knuckles and whimpering your name and now you rarely see him without his glasses. <3
I really want to see Patrick testing how far obsessive!reader would go for himâŠ
This is toxic but patrick convincing obsessive!reader to make a sex tape with himâŠ
âAre you going to leak it or something?â You look up at him; youâre on your knees in front of him, lip caught between your teeth as you move to unzip his jeans.
He strokes your hair, knowing how much you fucking love this. To be at his mercy, his little pet, in a way. âMaybe, maybe not.â
You donât love the idea, but you love patrick. And youâd do anything for him. You told him so last week when you let him fuck your ass for the first time. Told him youâd kill for him. Youâd ruin your life for him. This is kind of synonymous, right?
Patrick says he wonât put his face in it; he doesnât want that stain on his reputation. Plus, itâs not as if he has distinctive markings or tattoos. Itâs perfect.
âBut my face will be in it?â You rest your head by Patrickâs knee as he gathers your hair in his hand.
âYeah.â As if thatâs all there is to it. He just wants to know how serious you areâthat youâd really do anything for him. âLetâs do it right now, yeah?â
You furrow your eyebrows and think, but Patrick knows you donât like to appear like youâre disagreeing with him. You really try to be easy for him, in more ways than one.
âHm, okay.â
And Patrick is quick to get his phone out, recording you as you shift nervously on your toes, knees wobbly on the uneven rug in his room. âTake your clothes off.â
Youâre quick to pull your shirt over your head but patrick shakes his head and sucks his teeth.
âSlow down.â Grabs your jaw and gives you a stern look that of course, the camera canât see.
So he films this awkward intermissionâyou nervous yet clearly intent on being good listener. Nipples pert from the air conditioning, hair messy from Patrick toying with you, moving you how he wants you. Heâs degrading you, making you look like a whore.
Slapping his cock on your tongue and telling you to open wide, to let the spit fall from your mouth and leak down your chin. He shoves his dick into your mouth far enough to make your eyes water before he slides himself back out. Rubs his tip on your lips and tells you to suck on his balls if you want to make him happy.
Your cheeks are splotchy and mascara is running down them and youâre almost cross-eyed as you stare at his cock. You love this, in a way.
âGood fucking girl.â He coos as you fill your mouth with his balls. Itâs the random praise that makes you so crazy for him; maybe heâll do it multiple times in one day, maybe you wonât get any for a month. Itâs all up to him. So all you can do is your best, pushing your tits out and smiling big while he films you being his disgusting little slutâhis words.
Soon, heâs throbbing in your mouth so he lifts you onto his bed and sets his camera up on his nightstand. Rams his cock into you and taunts you for being so fucking wet.
âJesus Christ, youâre so easy.â His eyes almost scare you. Thereâs a glint of something in them that seems newâor maybe you just never noticed. Maybe itâs how you look to him when youâre begging for him; crazed and needy. A wild animal.
You whimper and dig your heels into his ass so he goes faster, deeper. And up to now he was strategic about his positioning so he wouldnât be caught on camera. But right now he wants to cum and heâs scared because he thinks he maybe loves you or maybe itâs because his cock is buried inside you. He doesnât know. He doesnât care that the camera can see him now as he leans forward to spit on your tongue, his necklace tapping against your chin.
I still think about this đââïžđââïž
FORGOT ABOUT THIS
And what if itâs years later, his sister is getting married to some guy heâs only met twice and you just a few times more. Youâre not nearly as close as you were that summer, possibly, you posited, because she had a suspicion that by August you were there more so for her brother. And sheâs not wrong.
So youâre surprised that youâre invited to the wedding. And godâ you try so hard not to let your mind wander about patrick. You hadnât seen him since a falling out that summer; Patrick tearing your fingers away from his belt because he met someone and he was serious about her. As if he could never be serious about you.
Plus, youâre dating a great guy and itâs almost comical how different he is from Patrick. Heâs sweet and doting and was the one who begged to make things official with you. Heâs intentional and came from a very stable upbringing. Heâs blonde.
you feel guilty when you RSVP because you know that your main motivation to go is not to celebrate your friend at all. And, when you walk into the wedding venue, itâs clear patrick has no idea youâd be attending.
Heâs taller than you remember, maybe because of his shoes. Itâs clear he hasnât shaven in a few days but it fails to look unkempt with him. No matter what, he always looks good. Especially when heâs wearing a freshly pressed tux and you can tell just you being there has gotten under his skin. Made him itch.
And better yet, the girl he left you for is on his arm. Slender, beautiful, and oh so agreeable. Not a piece of work like you.
The whole night you share not-so-inconspicuous glances. Patrickâs jaw ticks as he swallows drink after drink, cheeks increasingly flushed. Frustration, maybe. You do the same, throwing in a few eye rolls for good measure. And part of you wishes youâd taken your boyfriend just not to give him the satisfaction of assuming youâre still single after all this time. But all of you knows exactly why you didnât bring him.
âSince when are you and my sister still friends?â Patrick pushes his hair back and looks behind him to make sure nobody is there.
âIâm just as surprised to be here, trust me.â
âStill single?â Patrick fingers the gold band heâs wearing and you want to fucking punch him.
âNo. He couldnât come.â A lie. âLooks like you finally found the guts to settle. Sheâs prettyâI give you a year, maybe two. But Iâm sure youâll knock her up easily. Youâve done that before, right?â
Patrickâs smirk falls into a frown because he confided in his sister that he got a fling pregnant and she was not supposed to tell you.
âshut up.â He takes a swig of his drink before setting it down on a small table nearby. âYou think youâre so fucking cute. Wearing the tightest dress imaginable too. Probably because you assumed Iâd be here?â
âRight, because everything is about you. And for you. Youâre the most conceited fucking person Iâve ever met.â
âYouâre the one who came over to talk to me. I wasnât going to even come up to you tonight. Whatâs in the past is in the past right? Itâs been six years, patrick. And youâre still thinking about me?â
Patrick releases his bottom lip from between his teeth and leans in to whisper in your ear. âAnd if it were six years ago, I would take you to that bathroom and fuck this attitude right out of you and youâd love every second. Beg for my cum, for me to stay. Just like the last time I saw you. Too bad, huh?â
You pry his hand off your arm and walk away, because godâyou donât want to give him the satisfaction.
not trying to add to it rn just wanted to let you know that that was genuine perfection and EXACTLY what i was imagining đ”âđ«đ”âđ«đ”âđ«
situationship patrick away on tour so they facetime one night and you bring up how your favorite pair of good luck panties (agent provocateur lace you splurged on after passing a tough class) have gone missing, whining and pouting, talking about how expensive they were, knowing damn well he stole them out of your laundry basket.
you play him like fiddle, just giggling when he finally confesses because now he actually feels kinda bad. you calls him a nasty perv, making him take the lace into his mouth before he wraps the fabric around his throbbing dick, jerking off into them on facetime while you berate him (your own hand has been down your pants since he picked up the phone)
and this completely changing the dynamic between you two because before he left he really was convincing himself he was pulling the strings. that him being the more dominant one in the bedroom meant he called the shots which makes his afraid-of-commitment self feel very secure. safe. but then he leaves and heâs across the country for a month straight and he misses you. tries to hook up with another girl his second night there and he has to apologize because he just canât get it up for her.
heâs so desperate and tries to convince himself that itâs completely normal, too, that he shoved a pair of your blush pink lace panties into his pocket the last time he fucked you. a going away present of sorts. thatâs what you called the sex, so who cares if Patrick took a souvenir with him. it was cheeky fun, nothing more.
you call him one night when you know heâll surely be in bed and you confront him about the panties.
âthose were like $100 alone, Patrick. did you take them?â
patrick feels himself grow hot. a strange tang of disgust enters his mouth and pools in the pit of his stomachâwhy do you need them? âwhy do you think Iâd take them?â
âbecause I wore them the last time we saw each other.â youâre blunt; you already know he has them. youâve looked absolutely everywhere.
Patrick flips his camera to show them lying in his duffel bag, right on top of his boxers, neatly folded.
âyouâre a fucking creep, you know that?â
patrick has a smirk on his face as if to say and what about it?
âDo you smell them while you touch yourself or something?â
youâre usually pretty tame when it comes to dirty talk, so patrick is surprised by how blunt youâre being.
âare you mad at me or something? you need them for tonight?â patrick rubs his cock through his pants to ease the tension.
âIâm not mad at you.â you sigh. âI just think youâre kind of pathetic.â you donât know where this confidence came from, to talk like this. when patrick is usually the one fucking you into the mattress, calling you a slut and spitting on the side of your face. maybe you just wanted to try it for a change. and you would stopâexcept Patrickâs pupils are blown wide and you can tell heâs trying to hide the face that he likes this.
âIâm sorry.â He mumbles. âI wonât touch them if that makes you feel better.â he canât really tell what your true feelings are; do you like this or are you actually disgusted with him?
âNo, pick them up. you obviously brought them for a reason. maybe you should show me what your plan was.â
So patrick shows you them in his hand, all crumpled up. He lets a glob of his spit soak the fabric before wrapping it around his dick, and godâyouâve never seen him so hard before. heâs red and throbbing; every ridge of him looks painful and angry with arousal. like he could burst any second.
âyouâre disgusting, you know that?â
And patrick whines, humping his fist, hips rutting so the underside of his cock is massaged by the soft lacy fabric, still soaked with your scent.
âfuck, yeah. Iâm a piece of shit, arenât I?â
you see his thigh muscles clench as he slows down a bit, not wanting to spoil his orgasm. patrick notices how intently youâre looking at his cock, the contrast of the angry red partially eclipsed by the pretty baby pink, soaked with spit and pre-cum.
and youâve never heard sounds like these come from your patrick. desperate whimpers and whines, gasps for air like he canât get enough in his lungs. eventually, he sets his phone up on his nightstand so you can see his face tooâsheathed in sweat, jugular vein pulsing and mouth hung open as he stares at you. he knows youâre touching yourself, but that heâs been a bad boy. he wonât get to see it.
âYouâre such a piece of shit.â You agree. âeveryone knows it too. how much of a slut you are. and you think youâre this big hot shot but here you are fucking a pair of panties because you canât get any. begging me to cum just by the look on your face.â
Patrick is about to black out just from how mean youâre being and he didnât even realize how fast heâs been fucking into the lace in his hands but now heâs about to cum and he lets out the most pathetic fuck before he spurts all over your underwear. and maybe, just to prove to yourself that heâd do anything for you, you make him suck it out of the fabric.
gonna need you to elaborate on dentist patrick please
18+ mdni
idk his fingers in ur mouth is just so!!!
leather creaking behind you as the chair reclines, the overhead lamp blinding you in its sterile glow. patrick leans over you, latex gloves snapping into place. his dark curls fall loose over his forehead, shadows cutting over the sharp line of his cheekbones. a mask might've made this look professional, but he doesn't bother. he doesn't need to. there's a metal tray sitting untouched at his side. at one point, you caught a glimpse of him reaching for a tool, only to change his mind and brush it aside.
instead, he rests his knuckles lightly against your cheek, tracing down until the pads of his gloved fingers press at the corner of your mouth. if you didn't know any better, you'd think his goal was to be slow and teasing. "don't worry," he says, voice pitched low and coaxing. "i'll be gentle."
your lips part automatically, and his grin sharpens. two fingers slip past, pressing down on your tongue like he's holding you open for inspection. under the harsh lamp, your mouth looks obsceneâglistening, wet, pliant. he can only imagine what it'd look like around hisâ
"ah," he murmurs, a hint mockingly, tilting your chin with his free hand. "yeah, that's it. open wide for me. you're a big girl, aren't you? you can take a little pressure."
he pushes his fingers deeper, pressing the flat of them against your tongue, feeling the way your throat tightens. you gag lightly, a wet sound around his digits, and he breathes out sharply through his nose as his thumb strokes your jaw in a parody of comfort. really, he's just savouring your struggle.
"good girl," he praises, sliding his fingers out just enough for you to suck in a shake breath before pushing them right back in. the words land thickly, a mixture of approval and amusement that makes your stomach flutter. "that's what i like to hear. stay nice and still for me."
saliva pools around his fingers, spilling from the corner of your lips, and he rubs it across your cheek with his thumb under the guise of cleaning you. such a messy little patient. his thick fingers scissor on your tongue, stretching your jaw, testing just how much you can endure. every time you flinch, every little gag or whimper, he's there to murmur, "shhh. i know, sweetheart. you can handle it, though. you're tough."
he's almost tempted to let his hand slip down and palm himself as he works your mouth open, practically fucking your mouth with his fingers like it's practice for something else. his scrubs shift when he exhales, the fabric pulled tight over the unmistakable strain beneath. you see it when he leans forward to angle deeper, chair creaking, as if the thought of fucking your throat with nothing but his fingers is almost enough to undo him.
every time your throat flutters around the intrusion, his breathing gets rougher. when he finally pulls his fingers free, they're slick with spit, dripping right down your chin. he drags them slowly across your lips to smear the mess, before slipping them back into your mouth just one more time, pressing until your eyes water.
then he pulls them out with a wet pop, staring down at you like he's just finished the most satisfying exam of his life as he adjusts his scrubs not-so-subtly.
"mmm," he hums, flashing you a toothy smirk. "mouth looks perfect."
No but why is being cucked by Patrick so hot to me
patrick fucking you slow and deep while your boyfriend watches and he should be jealous and insecure that youre way more vocal with Patrick but heâs so turned on because Patrick is just that magnetic. heâs just so pleasing to look at. your body reacts immediately, eyebrows knitting together, fingers yanking at Patrickâs hair. knows he should be taking notes but he realizes heâll never be able to fuck you like that.