#art x patrick

[ghostgirl-22]

patrick catching art humping his pillow… and art is so fucked out he can’t get his hips to stop. hes red all over and drooling and hes whimpering sooo loud godddjfjfbfb

Oh anon…he’s going crazy thinking about kissing his best friend. Wants him so bad. Wants Tashi too. He’s so confused and a mess and Patrick’s staying with him and he’s out on a date with Tashi which is making Art extra insane. Patrick gets home early because Tashi’s friend needs help getting out of a date and he catches Art in media res, losing his mind with the pillow fantasizing about the two people he wants most but can’t have.

CW: 18+

—-

Patrick steps in the dorm room and it takes a little time to orient himself but once he realizes what’s going on he can feel the images etching themselves permanently into his brain. Art laying in his bed, thighs cradling his pillow, hips moving fast as he dry humps the plush fabric. Patrick means to turn around, leave the room, give him some privacy because he’s clearly having a moment but Patrick can’t keep his eyes off of him. His face is flushed, hair all over the place, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted and wet. He’s drooling on the blanket and whimpering. These soft little sounds, these pathetic little moans.

Patrick feels his pants getting tighter. He’s watched Art get off before but not like this. Not this vigorously. His mind starts going to crazy places, he considers approaching Art, getting on the bed behind him, pulling Art onto his lap and letting him hump that instead. Imagines sliding his dick in between those parted lips. Or tugging his shorts down and shoving himself inside. God, he didn’t think he was still this attracted to Art… wanting to crawl inside him levels of attraction… but after the kiss and now this, clearly it’s just been hidden deep down.

The headboard is knocking up against the wall with the force of Arts movements and he’s moaning.

Even though it’s been forever since they jerked it together Patrick is still so intimately familiar with Arts patterns. Knows he’s about to come. His voice pitched soft, the sounds make Patrick grip the door knob just a little tighter. He’s losing himself, while Art is coming. Falling apart mentally, memorizing the image of his best friend fucked out and all apart on the bed in front of him.

Art collapses breathlessly, falling on his back. “Oh god,” Art sighs. “Gonna fuck you so good.”

Patrick clears his throat and Art stills looking over at the door. “Surprise, I’m back early,” Patrick says sheepishly.

“Fuck,” Art groans, covering his face with his arms. “Why didn’t you say anything Patrick?”

“I mean… I didn't want to ruin the moment. You uh— you really showed that pillow,” Patrick smiles as he approaches the bed, delighted by the way Arts flush is only deepening. Patrick knows he’s barely concealed in these dress pants. He’s almost certain the hard outline of his dick is plainly visible. But Art doesn’t seem aware yet.

“Look man,” he’s saying, rubbing his hands on his thighs. The wet spot visible on his navy gym shorts, Patrick wants to lick at it. “I say all kinds of weird things when I— I didn't really mean I wanted to do any of that stuff. I was just working myself up. Random words, okay?” Art continues..

“Uh, okay…” Patrick says curiously, he hadn’t really heard much more than his babbling towards the end. But he kinda wants Art to believe he heard everything so he’ll share more with him. “I don’t know, you sure you wouldn’t be interested in that stuff?” Patrick suggests.

Art squints, this adorably stunned expression on his face. “You serious?”

“Uh well…” Patrick shrugs. “Well you sounded serious.”

“No I mean, yes, but what about Tashi?”

Patrick shrugs again, narrowing his eyes. Of course it’s about Tashi, he’s still so obsessed with her. God Patrick’s probably just agreed to let him fuck Tashi. Which he’s tempted at times to let him try his hand at it. Poor baby. She’d eat him alive.

Patrick gently pats his cheek and the way Art is looking up at him makes him want to unzip his pants and push his dick into Art's mouth. So he’s actually quite stunned when Art reaches for the zipper instead.

“Okay man, I guess I meant some of it… and maybe you liked it too…” he says quietly, staring at Patrick’s swollen dick the whole time as he slides it out, like he’s mesmerized. “If you tell her about this… I’ll deny it.”

“Uh right,” Patrick says, taking a breath as Art takes him into his mouth. “Definitely not gonna tell her.” He sighs, tangling his fingers into Art's messy hair. Dream come true.

[tennisiserotic]

Your mind…

i’m going to speak my truth… in artrick i am convinced that patrick is the bottom. sure art seems so submissive when it comes to tashi but when it comes to patrick, art is NOT the bottom. like spitting his gum into patrick’s hand to make patrick go throw it away… also patrick is very obvi a bottom like do we see how he is with tashi… ART IS NOT A BOTTOM

[wormswurld]

Kinda have a brainrot for Artrick sharing clothes rn. Like its canonically established they wear each others clothes & I just know everything in their room is shared. Like just thinking abt Patrick being away & Art in one of his shirts getting off to how it smells.,,…,, I miss them so badddd hgggghh 😞😞

and that’s completely fair!!! like yes!!! absolutely everything is shared: underwear, shirts, pants, gym clothes, hats, toothbrushes (when they are drunk they forget but it’s okay they don’t care) art stuffing his face into patrick’s gym t-shirt to smell his sweat and musk.. him just fully losing himself in the scent as he arches his back and jerks off.. knowing him he’s probably drooling on the shirt and mumbling about how he can be a ‘good boy’ !!!!! UGH! 😵‍💫 just beautifully fucked out..

[kieran-culkins]

like what if i was a boy and i didn’t know how to say i love you besides stealing your clothing

[stormbxrnbaby]

[irlplasticlamb]

for about fifteen seconds there, we were actually playing tennis. and we understood each other completely.

prints + merch + comm info pinned to profile :)

[ervotica]

hot rod — a.donaldson & p.zweig

pairings; art donaldson x fem!reader, patrick zweig x fem!reader, art donaldson x patrick zweig

summary; patrick comes to visit you and art at college. he finds college life is a lot more adventurous than once anticipated

warnings; mdni, 18+ only, SMUT, threesome, overstim, oral (m receiving), sub leaning!reader and art, more dom leaning!patrick, established throuple, polyamory

a/n; i’m not so sure how i feel about this tbh. i love the dynamic though so i pushed through even when it got away from me a little🥲 there will be another drabble for older!art and his pretty girl soon!!

you and art fuck until you’re brain dead and passed out from exhaustion. always have. neither of you possess an off switch, and when patrick’s not there to rein the pair of you in, things get a little… messy.

his cum is dried in your hair, the sticky substance smeared across your cheek, his knuckles still wet with slick.

patrick walks in, full belly laughs and peels you from art’s sweat soaked form, gives your cheek a pinch when you stir and whine.

he doesn’t clean you up because he likes to leave you naked whenever he has the opportunity — which is more often than not. seriously, you two need close supervision.

he just carries you with him to that shitty little armchair in art’s dorm, the room still stinking of sex and the humid summer air clinging to your skin; art shines with perspiration where he’s face down on the bed.

pat makes do with the lack of room, hooking a bare leg over the backs of your thighs until you’re squeezed snugly against his torso, face smushed to his chest. you’re snoring, and it makes patrick smile, slumping down in his chair to rest his lips against your cheekbone.

you wake slowly, eyes sticky and crusted over with exhaustion. your face is almost nestled beneath patrick’s armpit where you’ve been writhing in slumber and you grumble at the scent of sweat, layered with cheap aftershave. his hard-on presses to the center of your stomach and you can feel everything— the curve it makes now it’s hard and weeping, the feel of the spongy head, the vein that runs through the middle.

“you smell, pat,” you grumble, reaching up blindly to snatch the cigarette from between his teeth and take a long pull from the stick.

“yeah, well you’re not so hot yourself, babe. the whole room reeks.” he reaches down to tug on a loose strand of hair at the crown of your head. “there’s cum in your hair.”

“not my fault.” you stretch upward like a cat, curling into patrick’s chest. “where’s art gone?”

“still sleeping, baby.” he lights another cigarette, sacrificing the first one to you - still resting between your lips - and the clicking of the lighter draws your head upward to gaze through heavy lashes at him.

“come to bed,” you murmur, kissing his knuckles. your free hand coasts a long line across his jaw and you dig your thumb beneath his ear, giggling when he scrunches his features and relents, and pushes you to stand with a swat to your naked backside.

art curls into you instinctively when you roll onto the mattress, your hand threading through the curls atop his head. you scrub sweeping circles across his bare back and he hums a pleased sound, smearing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. patrick splays himself over the pair of you, all long limbs that sit askew to cover as much of your naked frames as possible.

art squints through the yellow light that illuminates the room, bright and artificial on his sensitive eyes. your movements against him don’t halt, a slow, rhythmic, loving sweep of your hands that he’s come to look forward to in moments like this. his jaw tilts upward as he mouths at your neck like a starved man, like you haven’t just gone five rounds and collapsed from overstimulation.

“you two need supervision,” patrick snorts. you quirk a bemused brow. “i’m serious, look at what you’ve done to each other! you look like you’ve been mauled.”

“jealous, much?” art mumbles sleepily, the sound muffled through your skin. you’re laughing and it splits your expression in two, eyes crinkled with amusement as the strawberry blonde boy snipes at patrick.

“should’a come to college with us, pretty boy,” you giggle. “could’a had this twenty four seven.” you dip your head until your brow presses to art’s. “poor pat, with no one to stick his dick in. how will he ever cope?”

“you could help me out, sweets,” he deadpans, the nickname saccharine and sour on his tongue all at once. art watches you through heavy lids. you huff, biting playfully at art’s lip before you tilt your head to face patrick,

“okay,” you chirrup. art’s quick to sit up, separating from your warmth in favour of nuzzling against patrick. patrick tips his chin down, slanting his lips against the blonde boy’s.

meanwhile, you’re working his cock through his shorts, palming the muscle until it chubs up beneath your hand, drooling a wet patch through the fabric. patrick groans, hips rolling up into your touch when you hook your fingers beneath his waistband and tug his cock free.

he moans into art’s mouth and your mouth goes dry at the sight. you’ve always loved to watch them like this, the way they get lost in each other, the way they start fervently pushing into one another’s space until patrick inevitably makes the first move and sticks his tongue down art’s throat.

patrick turns to putty beneath art’s roaming touch, huge paws that squeeze and grope and push at every inch of skin they come into contact with, not stopping even as you press your face to the seam of patrick’s balls, inhaling the sweat-soaked musk that creeps up your nostrils.

art’s hand snakes downward, flicking over pert nipples and ridges of muscle before he’s flicking a thumb over the weeping slit of his cock. patrick’s back bows into an arch as you lave your tongue over his sack, humming into the sensitive skin, full and heavy and begging for release. his hips rock upward into you as you seal your lips over him, eyes heavy with lust as art comes down to meet your mouth over his mushroom head.

it’s filthy and messy, downright pornographic as art licks over patrick’s cock, tongue pressing flat against the corner of your mouth and letting his spit pool there. you’re moaning - unable to help yourself - pressing your face forward to slant your lips over art’s fully. it’s all spit and drool as you lick into art’s mouth, the heady taste of the brunette boy still on your tongue, and then patrick’s bracing a hand against each of your heads and easing his cock through the seam where your spit slick mouths mesh.

you gasp and your damp lashes flutter, heavy with tears, and art’s tugging you frantically by your waist, pressing your bare chest to his own as patrick throws his head back and groans, shallow thrusts deepening. his breath stutters out in short, sharp bursts, chest heaving when your face slides down, down, down, all the way to the base of him until your pretty plump lips are wrapped around his sack.

you suck it into your mouth just as art takes patrick down his throat, the head of his cock bulging through the hollow of art’s throat as spit stretches and bows from the corners of his lips and lands in globs across your face.

you’re too drunk on the pleasure to care, the vibrations of your little sounds shooting right through patrick until you feel his balls tighten; he groans, long and loud, pushing closer to the pair of you as his cock pulses rhythmically and he releases down art’s throat.

you push your way through until your mouth is on art’s again, tongue licking into his mouth to taste patrick, wanting to be marked, claimed by both of them. his lips part, nose pressing to your cheek, and then he’s lifting you into his lap, his cock an angry red and pressed to the seam of your thigh.

patrick groans. there’s no fucking way he’s hard again.

“no more, you horndogs!”

[northsonic]

If the ship doesn’t have high obsession & ‘ high codependency.. do I even want it?

[buckysteve]

Challengers (2024), dir. Luca Guadagnino // Joan Tierney, The Elektra Complex & Matthew Aucoin and Sarah Ruhl, Eurydice

[galaxyspeaking]

Who’s going to match their freak??

[ghostgirl-22]

i like the idea of patrick giving art hickeys. art lies to the other guys on the team, says they’re from various girls but everyone knows the truth. maybe patrick even tells them when art isn’t around

I like that idea too actually, thank you for sharing anon<33

(Whoa im not even gonna edit this…good luck everyone!)

CW: 18+ !NSFW! The S/m part of bdsm, if you squint

—-

Art bruises easily. It really shouldn’t be something that turns Patrick on…but it is. He bruises so, so easy. Every time Patrick thinks about it, his dick gets a little hard. Fingerprints on his waist, bite marks his shoulders, hickeys on his throat. He’s not sure if Art really believes him anymore when Patrick says he’s not doing it on purpose.

God.

It’s so fucked up but he barely has to do anything, barely has to bite, barely has to squeeze and little pink-purple marks bloom vividly everywhere. The bruises don’t even stick around, they’re fading almost as easy as they come. Turning pale pink as the blood beneath them disappates before they turn white and disappear. But when they’re there, when they’re fresh, it’s so fucking delicious.

Especially because Art is so goody goody, so strait laced, so careful and controlled and put together. Patrick kinda loves just unraveling him. Sex so good that it makes him forget how to behave himself. Forget they’re doing it in public, forget his grandma is down the hall, forget all decorum. Mostly he forgets to make Patrick stop sucking visible evidence that he’s not a perfect angel into his skin.

Sometimes it’s so obvious… like the other day in class when their English professor noticed “fun night last night?” And then his ex girlfriend noticed. She scrunched her nose up irritated. Patrick can’t help it, he was giddy watching Art try to hide it the rest of the day. Skin all flushed, anxious that everyone was aware of what he’s been up to.

He gets so anxious for it, tells Patrick he’ll mark him back if he doesn’t stop. Patrick promises he will. But it’s not his fault…Art is just so fragile. Especially when he’s… pressed up against the wall taking Patrick’s cock because he couldn’t wait for the bed. Or when he’s on his knees in the back of the movie theater swallowing as much as he can while Patrick’s running his popcornbutter covered fingers through golden blond curls. Patrick doesn’t even mean to mark him. Not really. He just kinda wants everyone to know that this is his.

Patrick’s favorite thing is when their teammates tease Art about it.

It’s one of the last nights of an away tournament and most of the varsity team has gathered in Everett Moore and Lindsay Jefferson's hotel room, because Lindsay happens to be number one singles player and team captain (and he also happens to come from the richest family on campus. One doesn’t necessarily have to do with the other but Patrick knows he’s technically a better player. Hell, Art might even be better but that’s neither here nor there). When they meet up, someone usually sneaks in alcohol or weed and they watch movies or play music, while shooting the shit and discussing previous and upcoming matches and opponents.

They’re all spread out across the room, on the floor, on the beds. The tv is on with the volume low, red solo cups all over the place and two bottles of rum and three two liters of Pepsi are on the dresser. Along with three nearly empty boxes of pizza and a stack of unused paper plates.

As a team they often pick on each other, it’s not just Art. But Patrick’s favorite is when the attention shifts to Art because he gets even more interesting than he already is.

“Donaldson, that one looks fresh?” It’s Scott Jefferson, Lindsay's little (by 10 months) brother, normally everyone blows him off because he’s the youngest on the team. But Lindsay is amused.

“It does look like a new one, who’s been kissing you?” He chimes in.

Art waves it off. “Uh it’s not that new… you just couldn’t see it under the um… my uniform.” He lies. Because it is new, brand, brand new. Patrick did it last night when Art crawled into his bed because the air conditioner wasn’t working and it was too hot. Then it got hotter. They had to take a cold shower after. Art was all pouty when he noticed it in the morning.

“This one is fading, time for a new one,” Alex Kim, who’s right next to Art on the floor, touches at what Patrick knows is a sensitive spot. Art squirms and shifts his shoulder up towards his ear. Alex bites down on a smile and scoots closer to him.

”I thought Shannon broke up with you,” Everett points out, from his spot next to Patrick on the bed.

“She did, I’m— I’m seeing another girl. She’s—“Art gestures vaguely. “She doesn’t go to MRTA.”

“Where does she go?” Someone else asks.

“Yeah who’s this mystery girl, she’s a bit of a freak isn’t she? Marking you up,” Patrick chimes in, grabbing another slice of pizza and then settling back on his spot on the bed.

Art glares at him and then rolls his eyes. “Piney Brook, the all girls school.” He says and he takes another drink.

“What’s her name? One of us might know her,” Alex asks. He’s trying to poke at the hickey and Art shrugs him away. Patrick knows Alex is one of a handful of their teammates who would fuck Art if he got the chance. And maybe it’s because Patrick’s jealous, maybe it’s because he’s a little possessive (he can’t stop leaving little marks all over Art after all) but he told Alex about it, Alex and his doubles partner and roommate, Corey. Corey who cant keep his big fucking mouth shut to save his life. So everyone already fucking knows. But they love to tease Art anyway. See if he’ll admit it.

“She’s- she’s new, I doubt any of you losers would know her,” Art continues to lie.

“Is she here now? Or did you cheat on her?” Callum Harrington pipes up. “Cause that definitely wasn’t there yesterday.”

“He’s a fucking cheat,” Alex teases and Corey snorts a laugh.

“I didn’t cheat,” Art’s cheeks are pinkening, god, Patrick can feel himself getting hard, he’s gonna give him another one. “What about you, Harrington? You had a big one a few weeks ago.” Art says, deflecting.

“When my girl does it, she lets me borrow her make up to hide it. But mostly it’s me sucking hickies on her neck,” Callum says.

“Please, look how pale he is, he probably gets kissed and then it’s turning red,” Everett points out.

“Or poked,” Alex teases, nudging him. Art hiccups, nudging him back playfully before he takes another drink, determinedly not looking in Patrick’s direction.

“You want another hickey, Donaldson? I could give you plenty.” The openly gay kid Jesse Newman asks.

That makes a couple of them laugh and Jesse smirks in Patrick’s direction.

“Guys, come on,” Art says, uncrossing his legs. “Can we talk about something else, I don’t want to um… she’s really private.”

“Private but she’s claimed you publicly,” Lindsay smirks.

“I just… I do bruise a lot. Wait um— you mean this right?” He touches the hickey. “I actually just slept bad that’s nothing.”

“Oh I bet you sleep bad a lot,” Jesse says.

“I do kinda,” Art says, shyly.

“Does he, Zweig?” Lindsay asks.

“Oh absolutely,” Patrick smirks and a few of the guys chuckle.

Art is clearly relieved when the topic shifts away from hickies to Jesse’s birthday party. He’s still flushed for the alcohol, drinks way too much and lets Alex massage a cramp in his calf. All while making these soft little relieved moaning sounds that no one else probably notices but are driving Patrick crazy. Sounds Alex will probably run home and masturbate to. And he wonders why Patrick needs to mark him. He probably thinks Patrick’s not paying attention because he’s talking a lot but he’s always paying attention to Art.

It’s when someone inevitably rents a porno off HBO and Lindsay and Everett get pissed because they’ll likely be in trouble with the coaches, is when the party ends. And Patrick’s guiding Art back to their room, Art is silly drunk and horny. Doesn’t even pretend to get in his own bed. Just climbs in with Patrick. And he sighs contentedly, his body all sticky wet with lube and come as Patrick licks and nibbles at his throat, a new one already blooming.

[happy-xy]

CHALLENGERS (2024) Directed by Luca Guadagnino

[lonely-jazz-enjoyer]

this meme applies to every ship i like

[kieran-culkins]

she really said how do i get him off as quickly as possible. i play sally fucking country club pepperdine in an hour and i need do my do my meditative warmup

[lokiiied]

boys! kissing! on the big screen! everyone say thank you luca guadagnino

[irlplasticlamb]

it wasn’t even like tennis, it was an entirely different game.

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