Could U Write Some Patrick Angst Where You Guys Are In A Solid Relationship But Patrick Tries To Breakup

Hello I volunteer as tribute

I can't get out Patrick your fingers in his mouth zweig. Or the way he's fine w tashi slapping him. Or spitting on him. Like clearly he's fine with being degraded. He gets off on it. I get off on it (who said that...)

NO FRRRR

like just his willingness to literally get treated like a doormat is strangely attractive to me.. there's nothing i love more than a man who acts like a stray dog.. i mean y'all saw how happy he was to have tashis fingers in his mouth, i feel like you wouldn't even have to ask him to do it.. you'd just have to scratch at the stubble on his jaw and he'd let you pop your fingers right in there.. normally i don't have the urge to be a mean dom but like.. i would literally make patrick zweig my bitch. end of story.

NEED THAT LOVERBOY FIC NOWWWW‼️

it will be out sometime next week!! sadly im very very busy but it'll be super cute for y'all <3

omg super silly but like maybe art finishing in his pants or even finishing untouched… think about it… think about it… just a quick lil blurb idc but like … think about it

YESSS i have all the time in the world to talk about this...

he's just so sensitive he can't help it :( it makes him so embarrassed, he feels like "less of a man".. the first time it happened was one of the first times you were making out.. art is a very passionate kisser, from the moment your lips touch he's practically drooling against you <33 and he can't help but buck his hips into the air while he kisses you, caressing your soft skin and letting out soft whines into your mouth... he stops moving his lips very abruptly, taking a beat before pulling away and rushing to the bathroom, leaving you to sit on your bed and wonder if you did something wrong.. meanwhile art is in the bathroom.. face tomato red as he carefully pulls down his boxers, strings of creamy cum scattered on the front.. he almost hisses in pain when he has to pull them back on and walk back out to you.. he always gets so sensitive after he cums.. he'll tell you what happened eventually but for now he'll just say he got light headed <3

pls someone write a quick little fic about art/artrick comforting reader who's had a bad birthday and is crying in bed... asking for a friend.. totally

currently having thoughts about art tied up with red ribbons for christmas... like a present <3 even better.. him tying the ribbons around himself.. wanting to surprise you when you get home, looking in the mirror while he ties pretty bows around his strong calves and toned biceps, taking the time to look handsome for you...

when you get home, he's laid out on the bed all pretty for you, the red of the ribbons contrasting against his milky skin, face red with embarrassment as he lets you practically grope him, sliding your hands over his soft abdomen, placing kisses on him while he tips his head back on the pillow..

art has always had a problem with being greedy.. a problem you can clearly see when he's chasing a second orgasm by planting his feet on the mattress, fucking up into you like it's nothing, like he's not panting and whining in your ear as if you're the one fucking him.. his hands still find your hips as he slams into you for the last time, his balls drawing up and hips pressing as close to you as humanly possible.. he doesn't know it.. but when he cums he's looking to make it stick, to make you full, to breed.

you think you'll ask him to surprise you more often <3

day 6: with toys <3

art is the type of guy to get heartbroken when you use toys.. arguing that it makes him feel like he isn't enough for you. it takes time for him to understand that toys only help you feel better, and now, art doesn't see toys as his enemies but as his partners in your pleasure.

a quiet buzz fills the room as you squirm on your bed. arts mouth is currently attached to your cunt, his hands skillfully holding your vibrator to your clit. no matter how much you toss and turn with the pleasure pulsing through your body, art doesn't stop. you take your fingers through his hair, pulling on the soft curls, making him whine into you. you can't see it, but arts hips are humping into the mattress, rubbing his sticky tip into the sheets. art can feel you clenching around his tongue, practically making out with your pussy. the more he pushes the vibrator on you, the faster he fucks into the mattress.

the vibrations make you clench over and over, lifting up your hips into his mouth. waves of pleasure wash over you, becoming more and more intense until you cant take it anymore, bucking your hips up into the vibrator, but quickly making you feel overstimulated. you push the vibrator away as arts head flops between your legs, soft sighs coming out of his mouth as he paints the mattress white with cum. art thinks that he definitely understands why you like using toys so much now <3

elton is such a mood.. i literally screamed when they won 😭😭

ive never wanted to be a tennis racket so badly..

🩵🩵🩵

please please please send asks to my inbox please 😭😭 y'all im so ready to write but i need some guidance!! it can literally be about anything just please slide into my inbox <33

whispering in art’s ear, playing with his sensitive nipples, putting ur fingers in his mouth as u give him a reach-around while he’s sat on ur lap… ugh, the dream.

art’s bare back rests against your clothed chest, warm and slightly shaky, as your firm words keep his legs obediently spread apart.

“thaaat’s it, hon,” you purr into his ear, nodding, as your fingertips on both hands work to rub little teasing circles over his nipples, “good boy… it feels good, yeah?”

he squirms.

“mm—“ he whines out softly, and his head tips back against your shoulder, but he nods a little to appease you anyway.

his hands move to grip your ankles—the ones keeping his limbs caged in with yours—and he squeezes gently as he lets out a sharp moan and shudders forward. you watch his spine curl over.

“oh!” you smirk, leaning forward a bit to look down between his legs where his darkened boxers barely contain his arousal, “so cute.. you’re wet just like a girl, baby—“

art keens, his abdomen tensing and shaking as a heavy blurt of precome spills into the confines of the material, and he shakes his head.

“can i come?” he whispers breathlessly and desperately.

“nuh uh. not yet. i haven’t even started playing with you properly, you know that. what ever happened to slowing down and just enjoying the ride?” you tease, your hands slowly gliding down his abdomen.

he shakes his head.

“i gotta come, it hurts—“ he whimpers.

you sigh tiredly, but there’s no real anger or annoyance to it.

you just need him to learn when to shut his mouth. and if he won’t do it, you’ll do it for him.

“i’m getting sick all of this whining, art. now be good and open up,” you hum.

he obeys, no surprise there, and you reach your right hand up and gingerly slide your middle and ring finger over the soft, wet warmth of his tongue. he immediately moans and closes his eyes, his mouth working to envelop your digits as he suckles and drools around them helplessly like a starved puppy.

your left hand goes down into the front of his boxers and you wrap it around him as you feel him suck your fingers to the back of his throat.

“MM—! Mmmph—!” he whines loudly and pathetically, his hips arching up into your touch.

he licks and gasps and murmurs around your touch in his mouth like he’s worried you’ll pull away at any second, and your other hand starts to fist his cockhead wetly as his cries get louder, and louder, and louder, and louder—

“AHHMMPH—“ the blonde shakes in his seat between your legs, sticky saliva finally dripping down over his toned stomach as his jaw drops into a sinful ‘o’ and his blunt nails dig into your skin. you pull back your fingers from his mouth, and thick transparent strings of spit follow suit.

art doesn’t waste a second. he can’t.

“ohhh, can i come now..?” he breathes out urgently, like he’s one wrong move away from blowing his load before he can get your say-so, “can i please? oh god, please, i need to come, i wanna come for you—“

it’s hard not to give in when he looks like such a pathetic mess.

“fine,” you say gently, leaning in to kiss the side of his neck, “but i better hear how grateful you are. i wanna hear you say it when you feel it coming out, ‘kay?”

art braces himself, the suffocating flood of pleasure causing his limbs to lock up as he nods the best he can.

“ohh, my god, oh my god, oh my god, yes yes yes, i will, i will i— im— im about to—“

the first squirt of his orgasm catches him completely off-guard, and then he’s tumbling over the steep edge with a sharp sob; tears are spilling before he can blink them away, and the copious wetness suddenly seeping through his underwear and over your moving grasp can no longer be ignored.

“OHH! yes-ss-! i’m coming, i’m coming, i’m fucking cuhhminggh—!” he shudders out lowly and cries, “d-ohh, please, thank you, thank you, thank you thank you—!”

his body trembles against yours as he lets out a stupidly large amount of fluid, but you pump him through every wave till he’s slurring his words and telling you that he “can’t take it anymore” (he could, he can, he’s just a bit of a baby sometimes).

after he’s all spent and done, he tilts his head back and to the side so that he can kiss you, and he’s surprised when the warmth of your hand can no longer be felt against his tingling flesh. and then your tongue in his mouth is being replaced by your fingers that are absolutely covered in his spend.

on another day, maybe he’d feel a little odd about it, but you’ve lulled him into such a fucked-out headspace that he can’t help but start licking and sucking himself off of you.

after all, it’s just another way to show his appreciation for all that you do for him. all that you allow him to feel via your loving hands, and your loving mouth, and your loving hole(s).

“thank you,” he mumbles, his mouth thick and full of his own spit and come and your soft digits, but you understand him perfectly.

how could you not?