Mmmmmm Yes - Blog Posts
lucky you | tattooartist!patrick x reader
warning: oral sex, m! receiving
the back of patrick zweig's tattoo shop smells like ink, antiseptic, and cigarette smoke, the faint hum of a tattoo machine still buzzing somewhere in the front. it's dimly lit, the overhead fluorescent flickering slightly, casting long shadows across the cluttered counter and the worn leather couch pushed against the wall.
but none of that really matters—not when you're on your knees, fingers curling against the rough denim of his jeans, mouth stretched wide around his cock.
patrick leans back against the counter, one hand fisted in your hair, the other gripping the edge behind him like he needs something to brace against. he's trying so hard to keep himself together, to maintain that usual cocky, unbothered demeanor—but you can hear him breaking. his breath shudders every time you sink down, his jaw clenching as he fights the little moans and groans threatening to spill from his lips.
"fuck," he breathes, looking down at you with half-lidded eyes, pupils blown wide with lust. "such a good fucking mouth. all it's good for, yeah?"
the words send a sharp thrill through you, and you whimper around him, throat tightening as you take him deeper. he feels it—his whole body jolts slightly, fingers tightening at your scalp as he exhales a sharp, broken sound.
"shit—look at you," he murmurs, voice rough. "making such a fucking mess."
sloppy doesn't even begin to cover it. your spit glistens along his length, slick and dripping down your chin, your tongue working him over with desperate, eager strokes. every time you pull back, a slick, obscene sound follows, strings of saliva connecting your lips to his cock before you take him in again, gagging softly as he presses deeper. patrick groans, low and guttural, trying to swallow it down, but he can't help it—your mouth is perfect, warm and wet and eager, and he's unraveling fast.
his shirt is bunched up just enough for you to catch sight of the ink just above his cock, black cursive letters etched into the sharp plane of his hairy pelvis: LUCKY YOU.
it makes your stomach twist with something dark and needy, makes your thighs squeeze together, makes your lashes flutter as you blink up at him, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth. patrick groans, his head tipping back.
"god—" his voice cracks, and you feel his thighs tense beneath your hands. his grip in your hair tightens, guiding you, pushing you down until your nose brushes against the base of him, until your throat flutters around him in a way that makes his whole body seize up.
it doesn't take much more than that. his breath catches, a curse tumbling from his lips, and then he's spilling hot and thick across your tongue, holding you there as he shudders through it. you swallow it all, greedily, eyes flicking up to watch the way his jaw goes slack, how his chest rises and falls in uneven pants.
when you finally pull back, licking your lips, patrick stares down at you, chest still heaving. and then—slowly, lazily—he smirks, shaking his head like he can't believe it.
"such a slut," he murmurs, voice dripping with amusement, satisfaction. "think i might have to keep you around, huh?"
his thumb swipes across your chin, collecting a stray droplet, and he holds it up to your lips. you take it without hesitation, sucking the pad of his finger into your mouth.
yeah. he's definitely keeping you around.