summary: one week staying at your dorm was never going to be easy on patrick's self control
cw .ᐟ nsfw, age gap, unprotected p in v, f!oral
patrick knew this was dangerous. the second he walked inside your dorm, he knew he was fucked.
maybe it was naive, or maybe he knew the whole time, but he was half expecting you to have a couch. thought he'd be able to crash there, but no. just your twin sized bed and a small amount of floor space.
"you got spare blankets 'nd stuff, kid?" he murmurs, dropping down his bags on the floor as you close the door behind you. bottom lip between your teeth as you softly shake your head no. okay, so that crosses off sleeping on the floor. christ, you were making this almost impossible and he'd barely stepped foot in the place.
"no?" he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck. "no," you echo. "we can just share the bed." you murmur, innocent look on your face that patrick can't help but melt at. "your dad's gonna kill me, princess." he chuckles, collapsing down onto the edge of the bed. his body growing sore from the match earlier.
"maybe we, um, don't tell him." you mumble, fiddling with your fingers behind your back as you move to stand directly before patrick on the bed. "yeah, might be a good idea." he agrees, which makes this whole situation worse. deliberately not telling your dad makes patrick feel like he's doing something wrong, something taboo. well, realistically he is. but admitting that is a whole other story.
your knees knock his as you stand before him, eyes glued onto the curls sticking to his forehead. his hands gently caress the back of your knees for a second before he stands. the small contact causing a shiver up your spine. "gonna go shower, babe."
you were surely doing this on purpose. his hair wet as he walks from your small bathroom in joggers and a t-shirt, seeing you laid on your bed in your pajama top and fucking tiny shorts.
patrick had been good. never in his life had he slept in a t-shirt, and here he was essentially fully dressed as you're in next to nothing.
the silk sheets were a welcome change, and it felt like weeks since patrick had been able to lay down with his legs fully stretched. made your shitty dorm mattress feel like a five star hotel. giggling softly as you lay down fully next to him, lying on your side as you watch his body melt into the mattress. "comfy?" you smile softly, hands tucked under your cheek.
"hmm," he hums, nodding his head as his body turns to face you. he should feel gross, for laying next to you like this. the little girl he watched grow up. he should feel downright perverted. but he doesn't. all he felt was desire. wanted to put his hands all over you, hear whimpers fall from your lips as you laid beneath him, watch you fall apart around his— fuck. he can't think like that.
you looked so fucking pretty when you slept. he learnt that on the first night. you were a heavy sleeper, barely stirred when he pulled your body close to his. slept the whole night like that, with your back flush against his chest, his arm draped lazily over your waist.
woke up early enough for you to not even notice it had happened at all. left you a note on the nightstand as he snuck out of your dorm.
gone to training. back later, kiddo
patrick was doing so well. only innocent touches, helping you with your class work. getting to training on time, performing well in the challenger. you weren't making it easy though. in your tiny little skirts, walking around in just a towel, looking up to him with those big eyes.
nights were the worst—you were so blissfully unaware. his arms engulfed you as you slept, breathing in the vanilla shampoo lingering on your hair. holding you close throughout the night, always waking before you, leaving you completely unsuspecting.
but you couldn't help but crave the intimacy you were unaware he was showing you. purposefully teasing him in your time alone, accidentally touching his thigh under the blanket as you watched movies. wearing the tightest clothes you owned as you accompanied him to his training.
watching him on the court was torturous, you hadn't managed to get to all his matches, but you made sure you were there for the final of the challenger.
he looked like a god on the court. his body perfectly toned, biceps popping out from the tank on his skin. messy curls slick to his forehead, droplets of sweat begging to be lapped up.
patrick couldn't help but admire you in your seat on the sidelines. sitting pretty behind his chair for breaks, calling out words of encouragement.
"s'proud of you, pat." you mumble happily against his skin, arms wrapped around his neck as he soaks up the feeling of you. "thanks, kid." he smiles, pulling back slightly to look over your features. you look happier than him for his win.
leaning forward to press a kiss to his face, lips grazing over the corner of his mouth. breathing in sharply, patrick has to physically step back to stop himself from claiming your mouth with his own.
innocently batting your lashes up to him as he's swept up by organisers to collect his trophy, as though you hadn't just near enough kissed him. he has to force his attention away from you, but he can still feel the ghost of your lips.
the women of the country club were whispering all around you, you didn't have to be a genius to figure out what they were saying.
trophy placed upon your dorm desk, tension growing thick as the door clicks behind you both. "think you might be my good luck charm, princess," he mumbles, looking down to his name engraved on the plaque. "haven't won a challenger in almost a year, you come watch and now look at me."
giggling bashfully at his words, walking over to look down at the trophy with him, your shoulder touching his as you do. "gonna have me come to all your matches now?" you murmur softly. you would, too.
"wouldn't complain, kiddo." patrick mumbles, voice gruff as he meets your eyes. a hint of a smirk across his lips, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
"you wouldn't?" you mumble, patrick chuckles softly in response, shaking his head, his hand resting against your face. cupping your jaw as he tilts your face up to look at his. "complain about you sittin' pretty watchin' me play?" he smirks, his thumb running over your bottom lip. "never."
your soft breath fans over his fingers, patrick's watching how your eyes widened slightly at his words. he can't hold back the smirk at your reactions, at how corruptible you looked. as though you hadn't been hoping for this all week.
it was so wrong, but the feeling of your lips wrapping around his thumb as he gently pressed it into your mouth was too intoxicating for him to ever stop.
ripping his thumb from your mouth, his own attacking your lips before he can stop himself. sliding his tongue over yours, licking at the inside of your cheek. calloused hands groping at the flesh of your ass underneath your little tennis skirt. fabric bunched up around your hips as patrick manhandles your body.
he figured he'd be gentler, softer. but every bone in his body wanted to ruin you.
ripping your skirt down your legs, along with your lacy panties as patrick kicks your legs open by your ankles. dropping down onto his knees, hands clutching your hips as he pulls you forward toward his tongue. hands tight on the edge of the desk, head tilting back in bliss as patrick's mouth wraps around your bundle of nerves.
sucking and licking over your clit, mumbles of pleasure as his face grows slick from your arousal. soft moans echo around your small dorm, eyes fluttering down to the sight below you. manicured nails scraping at his scalp, pulling on his hair as his mouth separates from your heat.
twisting you around by your hips, forcing your back down toward the desk. forearms pressed against the wood, chest heaving as patrick pulls your ass closer to him.
pushing his shorts down his legs, freeing his aching length from it's confinements. "what would your daddy say, huh?" he taunts, kicking open your legs further. one hand on your body, nails digging into your hip, the other wrapped around the base of his cock. smirking as he smacks himself against your sex, his tip repeatedly hitting your clit.
"all desperate for my cock," patrick mocks, teasing your entrance. chuckling evilly at the whimper that echos from your mouth. "think he knows his baby girl's such a slut?"
the sounds you make as he forces himself into you is fucking heavenly. patrick wants to hear it over and over again on a loop.
the size of him is a stretch, and patrick barely gives you a second to adjust. slowly pumping into your cunt before both hands are grasping at your hips, slamming his own against yours at speed. the hem of his tank between his teeth, muffling the groans you're causing from him.
the wet squelch of patrick's cock fucking in and out of you fills the room, the sound of skin slapping mixes in with your moans. his name falling from your lips like a prayer.
you're sure the bones of your hips will be bruised with the way your body is hitting against the edge of your desk. nails at the base of your skull as he forces your back up against his chest, tank falling from his mouth as his lips lazily kiss at your shoulder.
"squeezin' me so tight, princess," he mumbles, arms snaking around your body, trapping you tight against him as his hips begin to jackrabbit into you. "fuckin' sucking me in." he taunts, smirk gracing his face.
lazily rubbing circles over your clit, only increasing the volume of your moans. clenching tighter on his cock as patrick works you closer to the edge. head turned towards his, and patrick never wants to forget the fucked out look on your face. lips meeting in a sloppy kiss, all tongues and teeth.
"atta fuckin' girl," patrick groans against your jaw, your body slumping in his grip as the orgasm washes over you. his pace not relenting, withdrawing his hand from your heat, now chasing his own high as he fucks you through yours.
patrick's hand sprawled out on your back, pushing you back down against the desk. "perfect little pussy." he groans, your face squished down against the wood. incoherent mumbles are mixed into moans as his cock slides in and out.
covering your back with his orgasm, eyes screwed shut as he sputters out every drop onto your skin. breathing heavy as his body comes back down to earth.
pulling his shorts back up, as he turns you around to face him. a chaste kiss pressed to your forehead as you lean back on the desk, lazy grin on your face.
"your dad's definitely gonna kill me now."
© 222col. do not steal or repost my work without permission.
