jordiemeow

[jordiemeow]

missing pre-war art. so beautiful but so evil...

[jordiemeow]

okay this is probably going to be a long shot but you’re moots with like all the people I like so I assume you have hella cool people on here.. do you have/know anyone that writes hurt/comfort specific after mmc gets beat up? There is NOTHING (!) I love more than a bloody man freakin it up

Ty ty ty ty!

sorry late reply but i asked around and can't think of any :( if anyone else has reqs feel free to inbox/drop in comments !

i'm assuming this is for challengers but if not let me know bc i can prob recommend some for other fandoms. but as far as art/patrick fics go i can't remember any off the top of my head

[jordiemeow]

Saw Superman recently and proceeded to rewatch Batman right after. They finally have two versions that complement each other well. Pls combine universes, it would be so fun :(

X

Bsky

[jordiemeow]

ᨒ↟ (NSFW) happy trails! ; patrick zweig x reader

cw (18+): switch!patrick zweig, switch!reader, happy trail worship, sloppy blowjob, face-fucking, coming untouched and coming in mouth, porn w/ some plot (but mainly porn)

pat and reader use "going camping" in the relatively-remote wilderness as an excuse to have public sex..

camping in the middle of nowhere—which had really been patrick's idea more than yours—meant being away from most of your usual luxuries; sleeping on a bouncy, plush mattress, cooling down with proper AC, being able to use the stove or the oven or the microwave, being able to kick back on the sofa and watch recordings of your boyfriend's tennis matches play out on the television screen, being able to take a real shower..

it had only taken one afternoon of "roughing it" before you were ready to go home.

you were sweaty, sticky, and had admittedly not smelt your best.. deodorant can only do so much when you've been hauling camping supplies around in the forest for over an hour and a half.

and so it was pat's idea to shower in the river.

you'd fought him on it at first, arguing that the river was ‘probably going to be muddy’ and that it would be ‘bad for the environment to let regular soap be washed downstream and interact with the connected ecosystems’.

but, upon arriving at the secluded spot that he wanted you two to set up camp at, he’d presented you with solutions: a) the river was beautifully clear—smooth stones and sparkling sand covered the bottom, and the crystal-like water was cool to the touch but not uncomfortably so; and b) he'd bought a big bottle of biodegradable soap because he knew how you'd be (you were "annoyingly eco-conscious" .. his words ).

so, fine.

river shower it was.

—

the tent’s set up about twenty feet from the edge of the stream, patrick’s started to put together a place for the fire after the sun goes down, and you’re laying out two fresh sets of clothing for after your guys’ hop into the flowing water. you sigh.

“which boxers do you want tonight?” you call out as you rifle through his backpack near the tent, “black or.. gray?”

“gray,” he huffs out as he drops an armful of sticks of varying sizes in the makeshift fire-pit. he places his hands on his hips afterward like a suburban dad of three.

your fingers snag on the waistband of the pair in question and you set them aside. pushing yourself up from the dusty earth, you brush your hands off on your shorts and walk over to your boyfriend, placing your warm hands on his hips from behind. it’s easy to tell just from the way he stiffens in response that he’s sporting a cheeky smirk.. maybe even a dusting of pink over his features.

“have you even ever been camping before?”

he snickers, then scoffs in the same breath.

“sort of,” the words fall from his lips aimlessly, unsure, “.. okay, no.. i haven’t. but i did boyscouts for a summer with art before my dad pulled me from it. he said it ‘took too much time away from the courts’.. i think i got the gist of it, though.”

you kiss the back of his neck, your fingertips tracing the cartilage of his left ear. goosebumps spring up on his skin, a soft sound bubbling up from his chest. “right.. so what’s the gist of it?”

he steps away from you and then turns on his heel to look down into your eyes, almost comedically stiff—like a plastic toy-soldier with something to prove, “three hours without shelter, three days without water, three weeks without food—“

the freckles on his cheeks look more prominent than ever under the golden light of the sun. you give him a look of skepticism, and he rolls his eyes in return. he takes your hand in his and points it toward the river.

“that’s north, just so you know. like, if you ever get lost, you’re supposed to go that way.. or something.. i think.”

you sigh.

“that’s east.”

he drops your hand, a contemplative look on his face, but then he’s leaning in and kissing your head. “whatever. i tried my best, okay? it’s not like we’re gonna be leaving the campsite.”

his words come out muffled as he speaks lazily into your temple. you’re about to turn and meet his lips, but you're immediately hit with the smell of sweat. usually the smell of patrick's natural body is one that you love, one that sometimes even gets you feeling a bit hot all-over, but this kind of musk is different. you tug on the back of his shirt and lean in, ".. that river is calling your name, babe. i'm serious. no tent-sex until you smell like you again and not like a wild dog."

he pulls the collar of his shirt back from his warm skin and up to his nose, sniffing, and you chuckle when his nose wrinkles and his eyes go all wide. he's cute. your eyes naturally roam from his face to the bit of tummy now exposed from his lifted tee. a flash of hair, chocolate brown and dipping below into his shorts. there's no way to prevent your tongue from reflexively peeking out to lick over your bottom lip. he doesn't notice this—already pulling his top over his head and dropping it to the dirt. his shoes and socks are discarded next, and then he's tugging his shorts and boxers down past his knees before kicking them from his ankles. your eyes take in each and every one of his movements as he works to strip himself bare of any and all fabric, admiring the way his shoulders roll back and his biceps curl and his meaty thighs flex. your gaze hones in on his stomach again.. then the trail of hair.. then the well-groomed bush.

this time, he does notice.

he steps closer, dimples showing and pearly whites stretching a mile long. calloused fingers find your waist next, his naked sex pressed into your hip to make a point. a low hum rumbles within you as you try to quell the urge to jump on him before he's cleaned himself up, and you know that he's making it harder for you to do that on purpose. you clear your throat and place a hand on his toned chest, shaking your head and leaning in to whisper an inch from his lips.

"soap.. water.. and then you can have me.."

you watch him try not to look so disappointed as the cocky grin fades out. when he turns with a heavy sigh and begins his trek to the river, picking up the bottle of soap along the way from beside your bags, you let out the shakiest exhale. it's so difficult to control yourself when your award-winning athlete boytoy is half-hard and begging for your body with a single look. good things come to those who wait; you have to repeat to yourself five whole times so that you don't touch yourself in that very moment..

the initial plan was to bathe in the water together, but by the time you've undressed yourself and placed all of your dirty clothes in the designated plastic bag you brought, you hear the rhythmic splashing of water as he wades back to the surface. you turn, watching him shake his loose, dark waves like a drenched puppy, casting out a misting of droplets. he stands back up straight, clearly proud of himself for taking the quickest "shower" known to man, and then strides over to you. it's already blatantly clear what he's got on his mind, arousal twitching and bobbing as he walks. his hands find your unclothed waist as he sucks in a breath, and not a second later he's burying his wet face into your neck and letting out the most desperate groan you've ever heard. stuttered into four parts, warm breath on your skin, his fingers then roaming up to palm and fondle your chest as if he's one minute away from sinking his teeth into your softness.

"hate it when you make me wait," he almost whines out the words, "y'know i'm bad at it.. but i smell good now, right? i'm not—i can't wait any longer.. not when you're like this—“

a startled gasp leaves your lips when your bare ass is suddenly squeezed.

"god, patrick," your own touch wanders down the expanse of his chest, stopping for only a moment before you wrap your fist around the base of his shaft, reveling in the way his entire abdomen jolts and he curls further into your frame. his hips thrust forward, begging for more than you're allowing him, pleading with you to properly stroke his cock instead of holding him on the edge between discomfort and pleasurable friction. your thumb swipes over a bead of precome from his weeping tip and he mewls, his feet shifting wider apart on the earth and his pelvis bucking twice reflexively.

"please.. please, please, p-please.. please get on your knees for me, fuh-fuck.."

you figure it’d just be mean if you didn’t, and anyway.. you really want him in your mouth.

you drop down quickly like there are weights resting on your shoulders. as soon as you hit the ground, you’re shifting on your knees to push yourself up onto them, closing your eyes as you lean in and begin kissing his spasming lower body. you mouth over his torso and then his hipbone, letting him shudder and choke on needy moans while you work him up to his breaking point. when your eyes finally flutter open again, you’re face to face with the particular object of today’s affection: his happy trail.

it crawls perfectly from the bottom of his belly button to the start of his length, dissolving into a trimmed bushel of hair that surrounds his sex. he’s never shaved it, only kept it from getting ‘too overgrown’, and you’ve never been unhappy about that fact. there’s just always been something about caressing him there that gets him pulsing and leaking like a broken faucet. you’ve never asked him why that is, and instead have gone on assuming that he’s simply hypersensitive in that area.

you chew on the inside of your cheek, a thrum of heat climbs from your gut, and then you’re letting your soft, pink tongue loll out to lathe right over the strip of hair until your nose is buried in the mess of strands. you inhale deeply. he smells like citrus (thank you, biodegradable soap!)

patrick nearly topples over.

his hips bounce, his legs quake, his hands fly to your upper arms and his blunt nails dig in hard enough to leave a mark.

“ohhh, god,” he whimpers, breathy moans following suit as his head tips back, “that—haah, shit—don’t stop, okay? don’t f—don’t stop, i’m—“

his desperate words trigger that bolt of heat in your stomach to burst into flames. the sensation floods your chest and sends warmth to your face, melting your brain into near-mush and coaxing your tongue to slide back up the trail and down again. it’s the same thing you do when you’re teasing his dick. right on cue, his toes curl and a dribble of wetness leaves his slit and his chest revs with a slurry of wanton, panting cries that begin to increase in both volume and pitch. he rolls his hips against your moving mouth like he’s stuffed down your throat and not just getting his stomach licked. it’s a bit pathetic.. but it makes your thighs press and rub together hungrily. fuck, you want him so bad, even if especially if he can be a bit pathetic when he’s this turned-on.

you lap at his coarse hair until he’s hiccuping and his brows are pinched together, eyes closed tight and his touch now blindly holding the back of your head for leverage. thin, glistening strings of spit cling to his skin and the strands as you continue your efforts, and then you kiss over his hipbone once more.

“does that feel good?” it’s a dumb question, but you just like to hear him say it.

“yeah,” he gasps, “so good, i.. i think i’m gonna pass out..”

it’s a joke, but patrick doesn’t really laugh. you look up, curious, and then suddenly see how truly dazed he looks, almost like he really is lightheaded just from all of the desire coursing through his systems. he dribbles again, and it trickles down his entire length to his heavy balls, to the densely-packed dirt of the ground. it looks like a drop of rain. you surge forward and bite at his stomach, no longer able to find any reason to restrain yourself, and listen closely to the wonderfully shattered noise he lets out in response. as you flutter your tongue over his happy trail once more, you feel the thumping of a vein against your mouth. you pull back and pet it with your index finger, which only makes your boyfriend squirm. you kiss his trail again. one more lick, one more nip, one more suck, and then all of a sudden his spine is arching backward.

“wait, wait, wait..! f-fuck, fuck, haah—AH!—no, fuck, i’m about to—!”

you’re not sure what is exactly happening until you feel something bump your chin, followed by sticky, hot ropes of fluid gushing out over your neck and chest, spilling down your skin. you gasp, pulling back and steadying pat with your hands on his lower back as he convulses and jolts in time with the heady waves of orgasm. his eyes roll back like he’s meeting god, and he wobbles down to his very marrow as the high of his climax fades out in prickly bursts.

“patr—“ you start, a new fire roaring to life in your lower half at the realization that you just made patrick zweig come from drooling all over his tummy, wanting nothing more than to push him down now and sit on his aching parts until he really does lose some semblance of consciousness, but he takes himself into his trembling right hand and feeds his cockhead past your lips before you can even get the second half of his name out.

you moan as the taste of his release smears across your palate; sticky and salty and laced with affection. it's second nature by now to take him into your mouth the way that you do, your lids lowering as you hollow your cheeks and suck him down your throat, coughing and choking a bit at the intrusion before he reels back and groans deeply. you open your eyes just enough to see his expression crumple from overstimulation. it doesn't last for long, though.

"can i put it in?" he strokes your cheek, thumbing your upper lip to see your pretty left canine, "i can go again.. i promise.. i can go again three times over if it means you'll let me fuck your mouth.. i need it s'bad.. please, baby.."

this might be the most wrecked you've ever seen or heard him be. you wonder if there's something about being outside—about being in a place where it's possible that someone could walk by and see you two at any moment—that's making him shift into some kind of primal state. you don't dwell on the thoughts, opting for giving him a nod of your head instead and then presenting your slacked jaw to him as proof of your compliance.

patrick doesn't hesitate, not with you. he tenses as he eases himself back inside your warmth, letting you constrict around his girth, and then begins rocking his hips like its easy. the sound of your stifled gags makes him swell even further, pulsing against the roof of your mouth as the sound of wet, sloppy suction echoes out amongst the woodland ambience. he cups the underside of your chin with one hand and steadily holds the base of the back of your neck with the other, making sure you're right where he wants you to be. you sniffle and whine; he moans and keens. saliva floods in and drips from the corners of your lips, adding to the mess, while his tip mercilessly prods at the back of your throat. you feel a blurt of precome spill out, and you gulp it down without question. you'll take anything and everything that he gives you—he's been good for you up until now, you can stand to be good in return for awhile.

"i'm gonna come again," he urgently growls out mid-thrust, "take it all for me, babe.. please, take it.. don't waste it, i wanna feel you swallow it.."

your palms slide to the backs of his thighs and you tap your fingers against him there, giving him a wordless signal to use you however he pleases. as soon as he feels you tap, he's focused on nothing but finding his second tipping point, chasing a high that's seconds away and almost within reach. your eyes flutter as you struggle to pull enough oxygen into your lungs with him taking up so much space, but another tap to the back of his legs causes him to ease up while he waits for you to breathe. a few beats of greedily gasping, a third tap and final tap to his limbs, and he's back to it. the way you two have found your rhythm over time is like nothing else you've ever experienced. its natural, it's love. you both know exactly what the other needs and when because you both know how to tell one another exactly that. you feel your head quickly fogging with the sensation of your tongue being rubbed against and your airway being full of nothing but patrick, patrick, patrick..

a few more thrusts and his pace is faltering. stuttering, really. you brace yourself as he pulls you in close, your nose smushed into his dense bush, and wails.

"gonna—" he quakes, "gonna—gonna—gonna-! 'm c-coming—!"

right as you feel his length kick against your insides, you simultaneously feel your boyfriend's hand maneuver from under your chin to the front of your neck. "i'm coming inside you.." he slurs.

you do as you've been told. you let your eyes flutter shut and you let him feel you drink every drop of his spend as it flows out in overwhelming bursts. he jerks forward and seizes up when you swirl your tongue around as much of him as you can, prolonging his ecstasy and guiding him into painful hypersensitivity. he can only stand a bit more before he's stepping back and relieving you of your efforts. his cock softens, giving one last throb—letting out one last glob of his milky fluid—before it relents. it takes everything in him not to collapse. you can tell.

you're the first to speak as you raise a shaky wrist to wipe at your slick lips.

"you gonna return the favor?"

he can barely manage a chuckle.

"of course i am.. and then we'll really need to clean off.."

".. yay, river showers.."

it's sarcastic when you say it.

"yay, river showers.."

it's earnest and tender when he does.

either way, the camping trip is off to a great start.

ᨒ↟ tags: @voidsuites @fawnnpaws @artstennisracket @imperishablereverie @ghostgirl-22 @lexiiscorect @cha11engers @patricksbf @newrochellechallenger2019 @pittsick @blastzachilles @oncefaist @tacobacoyeet @nozhdyved @felinebloodhound @grimsonandclover @loverofmine99 @lvve-talks @umbreoni

[jordiemeow]

is your masterlist up to date? 🫶

rarely is sorry twin 💔 will update for u later !

[jordiemeow]

had a rly good dream where i was boo’d up with tashi and then woke up to premenstrual cramps kicking my ass. can i LIVE

[jordiemeow]

i fully think bob would come from just rutting against your leg/even your foot while you're making out

18+ mdni

yeahhhh.

there's no rhythm or restraint to the way he kisses. he's all open-mouthed need, his tongue clumsy against yours, spit stringing when he pulls back for a breather only to lunge back in again. his big hands cradle your face with trembling fingers as your mouths slot together, soft moans spilling from the both of you.

his entire body quivers as he grinds against you, rutting helplessly against your thigh where it's wedged between his legs. the bulge in his sweatpants drags over your leg with every frantic roll of his hips, already wet from how worked up he is.

"can't—" he pants incoherently against your lips, pausing to swallow you in another kiss, all sloppy and wet. "can't stop— need it—"

it's not like you want him to stop. not when you can feel him shaking, his breath hot against your cheek as he presses down harder. and when you shift, sliding your foot up between his thighs, the arch of it pressing right against him, he just whimpers. his teeth keep knocking clumsily against yours, lashes fluttering and brows drawn together in pleasure.

"oh, fuck. oh fuck. don't move. yeah—!" his voice cracks, muffled against your mouth as he smothers you in another desperate needy kiss. he ruts shamelessly against your leg, your foot, anything to chase the pressure as his moans spill freely between sloppy kisses. each brush of friction has him falling apart a little more, babbling and gasping against your mouth.

it doesn't take long to get him there. rarely does. his hips stutter as a guttural, broken sound of ecstasy escapes him. heat spreads through the fabric of his sweats as he cums in a sticky mess, still rocking against you even as he shudders and slumps forward into you. his forehead presses against yours, lips swollen and glistening. there's even sweat dampening the collar of his shirt from exertion, but he still has it in him to ghost another light kiss over your mouth.

"ah... fuck. i'm sorry," he breathes apologetically, nudging his nose against yours. hard to be mad when he looks so pretty flushed and wrecked, though.

[jordiemeow]

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 obscene—glistening, wet, pliant. he can only imagine what it'd look like around his—

"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."

yeahhh. very professional

[jordiemeow]

may i please request more roommate marauders bots 🙏

do u have anything particular u want plot wise? <3

[jordiemeow]

ur latest dentist!pat fic reminded me of shake that by eminem lol (I'm a menace, a dentist, an oral hygienist, open your mouth for about for or five minutes...)

PLEAASE LMFAO him pulling up to work blasting it unironically

[jordiemeow]

Yk what your timing is perfect actually because just yesterday I was searching Patrick Zweig finger sucking fics you're spectacular!!!

AYYYY we r a hivemind it's ok. the people yearn for patrick zweig finger sucking

[jordiemeow]

PART 2

a/n: happy one year writing anniversary to me and what better way to celebrate than by writing the promised part two to the first ever fic i wrote !! it says a lot about me and this account that i couldn't even write a part two to this in a timely manner lmfao so thank you all for sticking with me and i know i've said this a million times over but i never thought i'd be writing let alone posting fanfiction on a platform like this so thank you so much for all the love and support you've shown me over the last year!!! it's insane to say that i've made some of my best friends on here and i'm forever eternally grateful for this community <33 taglist: @gibsongirrl @glassmermaids @museboos @blastzachilles @femme-lusts @glennussy @cha11engers @artstennisracket @pittsick @jordiemeow @hyperloverofhyperfixations @plutosolar @nozhdyved @peachyparkerr @artaussi @morbidapples @zweiglvr @chrattvibe @s3iz3-th3-fck1ng-d4y @ghostgirl-22 want to be tagged when i post? click here!

the relief was palpable as you undid your hair from it's top knot, one hand massaging your scalp as the other reached for your bag. you paused in the locker room mirror and reached for your lipstick, even though you hadn't seen patrick since your meeting on the court and was almost 90% sure he wasn't going to show up, you still wanted to look presentable...just in case.

you swung your bag over you shoulder, and left the locker room, only to be greeted by a sly smirk and dark curls.

'hey.' murmurs patrick, looking you up and down.

'jesus christ.' you nearly jump out of your skin, 'i thought you would've left by now.'

he glanced down at his flashy watch, '6, right?' patrick replies as if he always picks you up.

'well yeah but-' you protest.

the corner of his lips lift up then, into a genuine smile rather than his cocky smirk. 'but what? i said i'd pick you up.'

before you can argue again, he walks over to the bar and slides some money over the counter, returning with two beers and holding one out to you.

'oh i don't really-' you start, but his expectant face makes your hand close around the icy bottle anyway, 'thanks.'

he winks at you exaggeratedly as he takes a swig. 'you're welcome.'

you pull a face as the alcohol slides down your throat, and patrick stifles back a laugh.

'what?' you snap, though you can't help but crack a smile too.

'nothing.' he shakes his head, soft smile still on his face, before his blue eyes lock onto yours, his expression shifting as he leans in.

deftly, he captures your soft lips in a hungry kiss and after a moment of surprise you match with fervor, biting at his bottom lip. once he grants you entrance, your tongues collide and without breaking the kiss, he puts the beer bottles down, large hands finding his way to your ass, palming it as you lose yourselves in the sensation.

breaking apart just to catch your breath, patrick's eyes are still on your, twinkling with delight. you flush hard, still not used to him looking at you like that.

'fuck.' he pants, 'you really are something, huh?'

you blink, bemused but also flattered. 'me?'

'yes you!' his laugh is breathless, 'you think i haven't noticed how you watch me every practice?

your eyes widen, your whole face turning tomato. his voice drops lower, his breath tickling your ear, '...oh come on, you're not very subtle sweetheart, the way you drool over your lunch as you watch me play.'

'i do not drool!' you reply indignantly but he's already pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses across your neck, and you're already sidetracked.

'mhm' he murmurs against your collarbone, thick fingers roaming your hips as your arms wrap around his neck.

'you know...i had it all planned out.' patrick remarks, reaching for his beer and downing it in one gulp.

'oh really?' you raise one eyebrow playfully.

'yeah, i was gonna...um...' he gestures vaguely, 'take you for a drive back to my place, show you up to my very spacious bedroom with a very spacious bed.' he winks even more exaggeratedly, eyes bleary as the alcohol hits him, as if you didn't already understand what he was getting at. 'but honestly, i gotta have you now.'

you almost choke on your beer, 'here? we can't-'

'no employee has ever hooked up with someone here?.' he queries, though you know he knows the answer as well as you do.

you sigh, lips pursed. 'supply closet.'

'good girl.' he purrs, before his lips are crashing against yours again, his hands never leaving you as you lead him down the corridor.

fumbling in your pocket for the keys, you can feel the tent in patrick's sweaty shorts pressing against your ass and you can hardly get the door open fast enough before he's tugging your skirt down, grinning as he flicks the band of your thong, before pulling that down too.

'sexy...' he whispers, hands maneuvering you so your forced to grip onto a shelf of cleaning supplies as he lines up with your entrance, his own bottoms discarded.

you hear a globule of spit hitting his dick, as he fists himself to a full erection, lubing himself up. when he does start to push inside, it feels like he's splitting you open and you yelp, 'fuck- you're fucking huge.'

he slows down but barely, groaning in delight, 'you can take it.' and by god you do, pussy stretching to accomdate him, he's only halfway in before he's rubbing up against your g-spot.

'p-patrick.' you whimper as he starts to move inside you, his fingers digging into your waist to keep you steady.

finally, he bottoms out in you, and you choke out a gasp, almost certain his tip is brushing your cervix, you've never felt so full. 'oh yeah baby.' he moans, head thrown back in pleasure.

he starts to shift again, your knees are buckling, only patrick and the shelf keeping you upright. the noises are obscene as he thrusts in and out of you, lewd squelching filling the dusty room.

the only sound that overtakes it is that of your high-pitched moans, growing louder and more repetitive as you clench around him, squeezing his dick as it pumps in and out of you.

'shit- you gotta shut up.' he pants between his own moans. 'i-i can't.' you whine, 'it's too-'

he cuts you off by clapping his rough hand over your mouth and you squeak in surprise, as he continues to fuck you fiercely, his tip hitting that spot that makes you see stars almost every time.

'good girl.' he growls, fingers starting to slip into your mouth and you welcome them, sucking on them feverishly.

his thrusts grow more erratic at your actions, clearly devolving as much pleasure from it as you. your tongue lavishes his fingers as they go further down your throat, drooling in delight and eyes rolling back into your head.

'uh-ngh-fuck-' patrick starts to splutter, the only sign you get before you feel his hot seed hitting your cervix, gummy walls clenching around him to make sure you milk him of every last drop. with one hand still filling your mouth, the other claws at your back as he cums, before finally settling on your breast as he tries to catch his breath.

you're overstimulated, salivating over his fingers, near gagging on them, combined with the feeling of his milky white cum filling your pussy, you're sent spiraling over the edge too. with a muffled moan, your juices squirt all around his dick and onto the old linoleum floor, thighs shaking with effort, breathing heavily.

patrick carefully removes his fingers, smirking at the string of saliva still connecting you both, as he pulls his now flaccid dick from you, his soaked fingers now coming to collect the mixture of your two fluids gathered in your pussy, your folds twitching in overstimulation and you let out a whimper.

you turn to face him, watching in awe as he licks his fingers clean, savouring the taste on his tongue, before pulling you up against him, pushing your hair away from your sweaty forehead. 'you're so beautiful, all wrecked like this.' he murmurs, part endearing, part downright dirty.

you offer him a small smile, as you reach for your thong and skirt. 'good thing there's a mop.' you retort, shoving the bucket against his chest and the gesture almost knocks the wind out of him.

opening the door, you hurry down the corridor to the bathroom to clean yourself up, but you hear him calling after you, 'same time next week then?' his voice is cocky and you roll your eyes but you don't say no.

[jordiemeow]

my skin has turned to porcelain to ivory to steel

[jordiemeow]

miss writing for my pookie bobby. could use some bob reynolds reqs/thoughts in my inbox <3

[jordiemeow]

David Corenswet as Clark Kent in Superman (2025)

[jordiemeow]

omg I think I just came all over the screen. Throat fucking/training with Patrick when?

idk if u mean in general or w dentist pat but i started a fic of it LMFAO will try to wrap up this week <3

[jordiemeow]

DENTIST ZWEIG?? i’m drooling 🤤🤤

around his fingers Ayyyy