#PATRICKS HAIR?????????? PATRICKS FUCKING HAIR??????????????????

[zweiginator]

wait could u expand on being patrick’s crazy ex gf 😔

patrick blocking you on absolutely everything because you had a messy breakup. you wouldn’t stop calling and texting him for days so he had to block you. didn’t even tell you; you only noticed when your texts stopped going through. but you know patrick’s routines. you know where he frequents and who he hangs out with. so it’s inevitable that you’ll see him. and you do. a month after the breakup, you’re at a halloween party in a skimpy little cat costume. it was an excuse to look hot and get drunk and maybe see patrick who you’re still madly in love with.

you do see him, talking to a group of girls in the corner. it makes you fucking seethe. patrick can feel your presence, and sure enough, there you are when he looks up. you’re in a tiny black dress and black cat ears, glittery eye makeup sparkling under the dim lights. and he can see your eyes are watery.

patrick is good at standing his ground. he’s stubborn and he doesn’t like to be perceived as weak so he hates that your wobbly lip is making his fucking heart hurt. his jaw ticks and he wants to look away but you’re staring at him and he sees a few guys clearly whispering about you as they ogle your body and it makes him crush his beer can and walk over to you.

“don’t cry.” he wipes your tears with his thumb. “i’m not worth crying about.”

you sniffle and stare up at him and he’s struggling not to stare at your body.

“but i miss you.” your voice trembles and it’s too loud. patrick drags you to a bathroom to talk.

“we can talk for a little bit and that’s all. i’m sorry for blocking you but we need to move on okay?”

you nod and nervously bite your bottom lip. “i miss you so much.” and your hand moves forward, fingers looping into patrick’s waistband.

“fuck. don’t do this.”

you shrug and pull away. “okay. i won’t. sorry.”

patrick folds and takes in your body, the tightness of your dress accentuating your tits, your waist, the curve of your ass. your hair frames your face and you smell like beer and vanilla.

“you don’t miss me?” you break the silence.

“come on. i need to go back.”

“i knew you didn’t care about me.” and there you go again with the sniffling and the glassy eyes.

patrick holds the back of your head and whispers into your ear. “this is why i broke up with you. you’re insane.” he pulls away. “im not fucking you.”

“then why are we in the bathroom?” you shrug. the strap of your dress falls and patrick notices you’re not wearing a bra.

he groans. “stop fucking doing this to me.“

“i’m not doing anything.”

he turns you around so you’re facing the mirror, his hand fisting in your hair. his knee spreads your legs apart and your dress rides up enough for him to see you're not wearing underwear either.

"you're a crazy fucking slut."

but the irony in him spitting that insult in your face is that you like it.

"fuck me, Patrick." you push your ass back into Patrick's cock and you realize he's rock hard. "I miss your dick so much."

"yeah?" he fumbles with his belt, his hand still yanking your hair back. "want me to fuck you like the stupid whore you are?"

you nod as he pulls his cock out, pushing his jeans down his legs. god you missed his body. the dark tufts of hair, the tan abs, the freckles that pepper from his nose to his chest.

"do whatever you want to me."

Patrick pushes your dress up around your waist and lines himself up with your cunt. "I don't need your fucking permission."

and then he pushes in. it's all at once and you realize he didn't put on a condom. it makes you flutter around him, feeling him raw inside you, pre cum pulsing inside your already spent pussy. his big hands hold your waist as he slams into you.

"hold onto the fucking counter." he moves your hands to the edge and your moans are choppy from the force of his thrusts. he's relentless, so much so that it hurts. but you're so happy he's inside you, claiming you like he's supposed to. grabbing your jaw and spitting into your mouth and calling you the worst fucking thing to ever happen to him.

you can tell he's about to cum because he's whimpering and his thrusts are sloppier so you clench around him.

"I love you so much." you hold onto his wrist and he groans. "cum inside me?"

he shakes his head, mouth hung open. "fuck you. fuckin' crazy I'm not doing that."

"want your cum. I know you wanna give it to me. I know you love me."

he's breathless now, thrusts growing more and more shallow as he mutters a "no."

"only thing I love about you--" he thrusts hard, slapping your ass. "is that you're easy fuckin' pussy."

but Patrick can't pretend like he didn't secretly miss you. miss this. and he really can't pretend when you say you love him one last time and he can't manage to pull out in time because the words make his balls draw up, cum spurting inside you just like you wanted.

"fuck--" he pulls out, slapping his softening dick against your ass. "you're on birth control, yeah?"

you look back at him, staring him in the eye. "yeah."

and you do have a prescription--but you haven't taken a pill in months.

[222col]

Reader getting fucked by Patrick with his racket on the open courts at night after a massive fight that ends with duhhh more delicious mean sex

i- yes.

"stop being a fucking pussy." you smack the ball with your racket across the court. you and patrick had been fighting all day. you were hoping a late night session on the courts would get some of your frustrations out, but unfortunately it only made things worse. patrick breathes in sharply, serving the ball back over to you, starting the rally back up. "stop being a brat." he spits, sending the ball flying past you. his words only anger you more, throwing the racket down on the floor as he walks over to the net. "come here." he beckons, you begrudgingly follow his instructions, shuffling over to the net. "turn around." patrick orders, watching his eyes get darker as you look at him. when you don't do as he asks, he walks around the net to stand in front of you. "turn around." patrick spits out his words, smirk forming as you slowly turn around, facing away from him. his hands pushing your back, forcing you to lean over as his racket slaps against the flesh of your ass. the squeal that leaves your lips makes patrick's cock twitch, massaging the flesh before spanking you with the racket again. patrick forces you upright, pulling you up by your shoulders before pulling the fabric of your skirt down your ankles. holding you by your hair as he hits your ass once more. he drops the racket down to the floor as he spins you around to face him. "are you done being a brat now?" he asks you, his jaw clenched. "i'm not being a fucking brat." you spit.

it's seconds before patrick pushes your body down onto the floor, dropping down to his knees as he pulls your panties down your legs. "what are you doing?" you ask him, lip between your teeth. "shut up." he mumbles, picking up his racket and letting globs of spit cover the handle. he has an evil look in his eyes as his fingers push themselves inside you, quiet moans leaving your lips as you sit up on your palms. he adds a third digit before removing them all together, despite your protests. he spits down on the racket once more, before smirking up to you. your jaw drops as patrick pushes the handle inside of you, slipping it in gently before starting to fuck you with it quicker. your head flings back as patrick increases the pace, choking out moans. "such a fucking little slut, aren't you?" he smirks to you, his hands pushing the racket in and out of you. "my dirty little girl, you like this, don't you?" you can see the tent forming in his shorts, his evil smirk, he's getting off on it. your back arched, brows furrowed as he keeps pounding the handle into your cunt. leaning over with his free hand to circle at your clit, hearing the increased volume of your noises. your legs jolt as patrick forces an orgasm from you, an evil chuckle leaving his lips as he does. "naughty, naughty girl."

your head hits the floor as patrick slides the racket out from you, your chest heaving as he stands up before you. "oh, i'm not done with you yet." patrick smirks, pulling you up from the floor onto your feet. he pushes your chest down over the net in the middle of the court, your hands instinctively grabbing hold in a small attempt to steady yourself. your breathing is still heavy as patrick pushes his shorts and boxers down his legs, slapping his cock against your already sensitive sex. groaning as he pushes himself in, grabbing at the flesh of your hips as he fucks himself into you. his hips slapping against your ass, the skin already red as he spanks his open hand against the flesh. the floodlights on the courts highlighting the wire markings on the skin from his racket, only causing more groans from patrick. clenching against him as his body rocks against yours. his nails are digging into your hips, as you grip around the net holding to hold you up. nearly buckling beneath him as his load paints your walls. "fuckkk- good girl." patrick moans, his chest leaning down against your back. holding you there for a minute before sliding out, pulling his shorts back up his legs. he lets you find your panties and skirt before leaning down to kiss the top of your head. "good girl, you did so well."

[carnelianly]

this post contains noncon! please don’t read if that will be upsetting! i would never promote this in real life, and people, men or women, are always unable to consent to any kind of contact while intoxicated!

art is your friend. not your boyfriend. not your dog that you can tug around on a leash like you seem to think you can. he has a girlfriend. he’s madly in love with her. he doesn’t want you. sure, he can acknowledge that you’re pretty and he can tell himself, in the comforts of his own head ‘if i were single, i’d.. definitely go for her’. in another life, maybe he was yours. not in this one.

but he was invited out to the bar by patrick who also invited you and a couple other friends and he doesn’t mind your presence at all. you’re.. you’re nice enough. you may make him a little nervous when you smile like that, but that’s not for him to say. he keeps himself polite but distant in conversation with you.

he drinks a little too much. patrick always suggests shots and what is art supposed to do? say no? look like a pussy?

he downs them anyway, one after another until it’s two hours later and he forgets he’s barely eaten much all day and there’s so much alcohol in his system that he can’t stand up straight.

not to worry, you’re them to catch him before he falls over. patrick and the others are off talking about some nonsense, but you’re being so nice and helpful, you wipe the drool from his chin and fix his hair and he smiles faintly at you in gratitude.

you smile back at him, one arm holding him up since he’s not stable enough to stand on his own, half leaning on the bar counter and half relying on you to keep him up. your other hand is… art isn’t really paying attention. feels weird, though. it’s between his thighs, rubbing the skin softly, almost teasingly. art isn’t coherent enough to understand what’s happening.

you’re smiling at him, telling him everything is gonna be fine, because it will be. everything will be okay. he doesn’t have to worry, you’ll take care of him, keep him safe. there’s so many bad people in this world that might try to hurt him, steal his wallet, take advantage of him. you’re not like that. you’re just gonna keep talking to him like this until it’s time to leave and then you’re gonna take him home. he’s too drunk to get back to his place by himself, so you’ll just let him stay at yours. so gracious of you.

he listens because he has no other choice, and he’s not as much letting you touch him but not able to stop you. your hand is on his crotch, massaging him through his jeans, and he moans and he falls forward into you, resting his head on your shoulder. he’s weak. unable to do anything but take this treatment. your hand that was keeping him upright moves to his ass, always so plump and thick, god, he obviously does it for his girlfriend but he might as well have done it for you, in this moment.

you could so easily take what you wanted from him, especially because you’re sure he’s about to black out and remember nothing. but you’re a better person than that, you tell yourself. you’re just touching, you’re not gonna break anything.

you end up taking him into the bathroom, and he’s too drunk to know what he’s doing, but hey, he kissed you first, even if he’s tripping over his own feet and practically drooling into your mouth. it’s hot, and you feel him up some more. it feels wrong to fuck him, too permanent. he’d definitely know what happened then. he’s smart when he’s sober, smart enough anyway.

in the end, he’s taken home with patrick and a couple of buddies, taking a shared uber home while art is blacked out, while you go off by yourself.

the next time you see art, he definitely does not remember what happened that night. he does feel a little weird around you, but he can’t quite put his finger on why your presence is so.. uncomfortable all of a sudden…

[artdcnaldson]

thinking about puppy art manhandling puppy reader and being rough with her but he doesn’t mean it in a dominant way he’s just desperate and wants her so bad he doesn’t know how to express it right😈😈

Ohhhhh <3

He’s so rough with you :((

He can’t help it he just needs to fuck you hard and fast and rough and he’s aching with how much he wants it!!! So when he pins you down and fucks you into the mattress or he pulls your hair or he bites you he’s not doing it to be mean it’s just bc it feels so good he needs it faster, needs more and more and more. Even when your body aches and your cunt is puffy and sore from how hard he’s been going at you, he can’t stop until you’re both passed out on the bed, totally exhausted.

Patrick finds you just knocked out on the bed when he finally comes home, covered in cum and spit and bruises and the indentations of Art’s teeth. And Art just right there beside you, asleep with a little content smile on his face.

[judeable-brainrot]

Just giving Patrick head until he comes down your throat

don’t get me STARTED. just giving him the sloppiest, wettest head he’s ever had, you’re choking on his cock as you keep him deep down your throat. he’s writhing and bucking his hips, tugging your hair so hard you swear strands are coming out. “fuck fuck fuck so good for me…god the wettest slut i’ve ever had..oh f-fuuuuck!” your eyes roll back at his words, going harder, cheeks burning from the stretch of his dick. “oh god i’m gonna cum—gonna cum so fucking hard—gonna be good and swallow right? take all of it, fucking slut.” he shoots his load directly down your throat and you swallow around him, making him moan even more at the overstimulation. when he pulls out you cough, a string of cum and spit tangled together connecting you to him.

[heartbreakfeelsogood]

via dcd2records on instagram

[adrianicsea]

the cast of it’s always sunny in philadelphia (plus rob’s brother patrick) at 2016 los angeles pride. if you even care.

[doctordiscosbignaturals]

noooo babe pleaseeee don’t shave it let the beard grow out you look sooooo sexy

there’s is a criminal lack of pictures of him with the grey beard 😔

[badnewswhatsleft]

save rock and roll album track-by-track commentary available to download in full here

[ruidiancoffee]

first time using gouache paints

[fobnsfwdoodlesbackup]

oooh with all the ponytail talk, now i'm picturing patrick using pete's pigtails as handlebars to fuck him senseless

These two requests went nicely together 🫶

[zweiginator]

good morning :) currently thinking about frat!art and patrick railing sorority!reader during pledge week :)

frat!artrick making a bet with their frat brothers that they can have a threesome with a sorority pledge that same night and they’re all calling their bluff, saying no fucking way.

and to make it harder their frat brothers pick the prettiest, quietest most innocent seeming sorority pledge—you.

and they are a little worried; they’ve been eyeing you for weeks since your sorority often attends events with their fraternity. but you’re not really into the whole party scene too much, and you’re shy and don’t know that many people. you don’t really know how you ended up in the sorority at the first place.

the boys take their time, sitting on either side of you on the couch and getting you a drink when you ask for one. they’re gentlemanly and they’re listening to your answers to their questions and then you ask about them.

you can’t deny how attractive they are. and the more and more you all drink, the more your gaze averts down to their lips, their jaws, their strong arms and lean bodies.

“you’re so pretty.” they lean in closer and you feel like maybe going somewhere more private is a good idea. would that look bad? going upstairs with two boys at once? you dont really care right now.

and as soon as the bedroom door is closed, you’re pushed up against it, patrick’s hands on your waist as he pushes his tongue against yours. you moan and grab onto his hair and reach out for art, who is licking and kissing your neck.

and then he’s sinking down to his knees and kissing your cunt through your panties. patrick joins him and their tongues intertwine against your pussy. it feels so good and so what if you let them pound into you on the floor? so what if you let them take turns and art is shoving his fingers into your mouth as he fucks you from behind because god you’re a screamer and maybe patrick should shove his cock in your mouth to shut you up.

[vivanightcity]

Broom - fully organic runaway nomad lad about to get the biggest culture shock of his life.

Still v much a wip, but I wanted to chuck him in game and play around for a bit.

[christiangeistdorfer]

PATRICK DEPAILLER during the 1979 MONACO GRAND PRIX

[roscoe-me-and-this-fuckin-kid]

joe trohman straight hair?????

[sluttylittleslashers]

I wish we could hold the axe in phototopia that would be perfect