petition 4ppl 2 start writing mean n evil brendon into ryden fics.STOPHOLDING BACK…y is no one understanding gross perv bden,,ok he seems all cuteon the outside but rlly he js wants 2beat that bitchy skinny boy till he’s bloody n braindead..</3 #okrantover
Tags: very much noncon, kidnapping elements, bondage (?)
Summary: Pete had a bad day, and Ryan was right there.
A/n: heavily influenced by what I was listening to at the time. I also lwk struggled to tag this but wtv. This is not my best work, honestly I almost left it in my drafts.
Pete's heavy steps thudded on the ground. Today was not a good day. From old wounds being reopened to new ones being made, every single bad thing that could've happened happened. He was thundering home from practice. He'd had it with his band, he'd had it with his label, and he was about ready to blow up every part of his life. He slammed open the door to his apartment and kicked it closed. He could heart the damage it did to the lock, and he groaned. Great. Just one more problem he'll have to fix.
Pete was getting ready to smoke, drink, do anything to make his day a little better. That's when he got a text on his phone from Ryan.
Ry R: u busy?
Pete's brows furrowed and he checked the time. What the fuck could Ryan possibly need from him at 10:30 pm? Pete was ready to just reply with a simple 'yes', or not respond at all, but he hesitated. He thought about how bad his day had been, how shitty he felt. He thought about Ryan's slim waist and soft lips, his big doe eyes that were pulling him closer every time they saw each other. He wanted him. He deserved him.
Pete W: nah not really. You can come over.
...
Ry R: cool
Pete put his phone down and went to go grab a beer. Sure it was tacky and maybe impolite with company coming over, but beer was easy and he wasn't about to just wait around for Ryan hoping he'd make him feel better. Pete relaxed into his couch, kicking off his shoes and throwing his shirt somewhere across the room. His apartment was a bit of a mess, but he couldn't be bothered to pick anything up.
When Ryan finally showed up, Pete was already one beer in and about to grab another. He sighed when he heard Ryan knocking at the door. He guessed it was for the best, he needed his coordination tonight.
Pete opened up the door and turned around to go back to his spot on the couch. He watched Ryan hesitantly step through the door and close it behind him. Ryan walked into the living room, looking around at the messy apartment. Ryan was about to say something, but Pete stood up before he could get a single word out.
"I'm gonna smoke outside. Come on." Pete nodded towards the balcony of his apartment and started walking. Ryan didn't move at first, but he quickly followed along when he realized Pete was serious.
"R-right now...?"
Pete couldn't stand the way Ryan asked that. He made a mistake letting him come over. He wanted to punch the kid. Obviously he meant right now. Why couldn't he just be quiet and only talk when it mattered?
Pete stepped outside and pulled out a cigarette and his lighter. Ryan was saying something about why he'd come over, but Pete really didn't care. He was too focused on the smoke in his lungs and trying not to choke the kid out. Pete was almost done with his cigarette, and Ryan was still talking. Normally Pete wouldn't mind, but he just kept fucking talking and Pete didn't care and his will was cracking with every passing second. Pete turned to Ryan while he was still mid-sentence.
"Come closer." Pete motioned towards himself with his hand. Ryan didn't even question it when he came closer. Pete used his free hand to push Ryan's head back. He took his still-lit cigarette and pressed it right into Ryan's neck. Ryan winced and tensed up instinctively. Pete only left it there long enough to put it out, but when he took it away Ryan had tears forming in his eyes. He looked confused and hurt, but Pete just walked back inside.
"You were saying?"
Pete could tell he made Ryan anxious. He was suddenly much more quiet and cautious. But he was still talking, and Pete was struggling to find out an easy way to get what he wanted from Ryan. He finally settled on something and he got up to walk into the kitchen while Ryan continued to talk. Pete wondered if he even noticed that he'd moved from the couch, or if he was really that absorbed in whatever he was talking about.
Pete walked back over to the couch with duct tape in his hands. Ryan noticed, because of course he did, a whole roll of silver duct tape wasn't exactly a normal thing to bring back with you when nothing was broken. He got quiet and Pete could see his breath start to quicken as he got closer. Ryan started backing away but Pete was faster, leaping on top of him and fighting against his pushes and punches. Pete forced him into a better position, one where Pete could get Ryan's hands tied behind his back. He knew the duct tape would hurt later, but he really didn't care. Finally he was able to get a piece of tape over his mouth, shutting him up like he'd wanted to all night. Pete sat back on his heels and looked down at Ryan. He was looking up at him with his big sad eyes, looking like he was finally going to start full on sobbing.
"Aw, don't be like that. It's nothing personal kid, I just need this. You understand."
Pete didn't wait for a response before he was tugging Ryan's pants down and undoing his own belt. He could vaguely hear Ryan's muffled whining but he really didn't care. Pete gripped Ryan's hips tightly and pushed into him without any care for how Ryan would feel. He just needed this, and he needed it fast.
Eventually Ryan went limp and stopped struggling against Pete as he continued to push in and out of him. Each slam of Pete's hips sent a shock through Ryan's whole body. By the end of it, Pete had finished inside him and Ryan was left sore and exhausted.
Pete zipped up his pants and fixed his belt before pulling up Ryan's pants and ripping the tape off his wrists. Ryan would've cried out from the pain if he had the energy. Pete leaned down to look Ryan in the eyes, not taking off the mouth tape quite yet.
"If you want to keep your band, no one hears a word about this, got it?"
Ryan weakly nodded and Pete finally ripped the duct tape of his mouth. There was a trail of spit briefly connecting the tape and Ryan's mouth. Pete dropped the tape on the ground and walked back to his room. He closed the door behind him, and Ryan took that as his sign to leave. He weakly limped out the door, deciding next time he needs something he'll ask how Pete's feeling first.
A/n: I was half asleep writing this and VERY scatterbrained.
for valentines i decided peterick was a good choice considering i love them.
i believe in my heart pete is a brat and no amount of love for patrick can ever change that. especially not when patrick is already frustrated. patrick’s usually busy doing things pete can’t be bothered to pay attention to, all he knows is that it isn’t him. there’s two choices:
fuck himself to piss patrick off
piss patrick off so he’ll fuck him.
he absolutely prefers the second though. he knows patrick can’t get seriously mad, he can get very close though. he’ll end up breaking a few guitar strings and hiding the replacements outside so patrick is forced to talk to him. atleast he assumed that’s how it would go.
when he walks into the room patrick usually practices in with one of his better plans to get patrick to fuck him. he could always just ask but he likes the process of getting under patricks skin.
right when he’s getting one string off he can feel something (more likely someone) breathing down his neck, too scared to turn around he curls into himself hoping and praying he didn’t get caught this early in his plan. he feels a hand running from his hair to his back and up again and then pulling. it stings and pete can feels the tears welling up in his eyes as he looks up to see patrick and he’s just so pissed off.
pete hasn’t seen him look like this in forever. his entire face is red and sweat covered, he refuses to look patrick in the eye because he knows himself well enough that he’ll come then and there.
“what’re you doing petey?” pete bites down on his lip hard. it’s a hypothetical, he doesn’t speak until patrick says he can.
“youre a real bitch you know that pete” a thick glob of spit goes from patrick’s mouth into petes eye. he shuts his eyes tightly feeling patrick throw him down, his skull making a crack against the hardwood. all of patricks bodyweight is on his chest, hardly noticing the pink cock pressed to his lips.
he makes a (sad) attempt to open his mouth to explain but patrick pries it open first, not giving him the satisfaction of even sucking patrick off. it hurts and he’s gagging, his vision out of focus. he feels like a fleshlight with patrick ignore his kicking feet and gurgling. he can vaguely make out patrick taking photos of him but no any of the words he’s saying.
suddenly patrick pulls out and climbs off leaving pete cough on the floor.
he lays there for a minute before feeling patricks shoe slam into his back over and over. too shaky to crawl away or speak he lies there whining patricks name.
—
patrick is nice enough to atleast fuck him in bed, plus the contrast of pete’s tan and the color of his tattoos against the white sheets does something to him. petes still dizzy, but he finds himself sucking on patricks fingers, dragging his tongue up each individually, wrapping it around them and watching the drool run down his forearm.
“do you wanna explain what you were doing earlier?,” patrick grabbed petes chin, nodding his head. pete tried to turn his head away but patrick grabbed him again
“nono baby i wanna hear it” he let go of pete smiling ear to ear
“i’m sorry…” he’s tearing up and patrick isn’t even touching him. he hiding his head in his chest before being pulled back away.
“oh poor baby… you know what you did was bad right,” pete sniffles and nods “and youre really sorry?” pete nods again, tears welling up and leaving a stain on patricks shirt. patrick cradles his head hushing pete until he’s breathing quietly again.
patrick attempts to get up, maybe put everything away and just cuddle before pete pushes him back pinning him to the bed.
“don’t even think about it.” pete smirks as he licks up his neck, taking in the musk of patricks sweat before pulling away, letting patrick flip them over now restraining him. his knees are digging into petes side and his hips are attempting to buck up
“can’t just be my sweet boy for once huh? you always,” patrick begins to pull petes shirt off “just have to mess with me? right petey?” he’s practically shaking with excitement patrick is actually going to fuck him. he loves to draw out foreplay but he can’t deny the fact he’s been waiting on this.
patricks pulling off his jeans and right as they get down to his thighs he grips them together, giggling to himself as patrick looks up unamused.
“open your legs pete.” he’s serious but pete wants to see what he’ll do, he shakes his head no.
“open them. i’m not telling you again” pete spits at him, smirking as a hand strikes his face, feeling his legs being pried open and his jeans removed with excess force. patrick doesn’t even bother to take off his panties (rose colored, because patrick in passing said he loved pete in red) simply pulling them to the side and lubing up his fingers only to feel a plug.
“oh you’re so easy…” he reaches to pull the plug out, painstakingly slow, watching pete squirm
“patrick… please oh my god” pete throws his head back, whispering pleas over and over until he feels patricks thick fingers plunge into him. he doesn’t enjoy the fingering as much as patrick seems to. scissoring them, reaching as far in as he can with just two fingers.
pete almost doesn’t catch patrick sliding down, tongue lapping at his hole making him grab onto his hair trying to get him closer. his tongue moves slowly and carefully inside of pete with his fingers still at work. pete can only imagine how it feels to do that to patrick… maybe he just discovered something about himself.
before he can get too lost in thought, he feels patricks cock pressing against his hole. patrick is placing wet kissing from his chest up to his ear, licking and sucking the outside of it. the wetness of all of it is driving pete crazy.
“you want me to fuck your cunt petey?” he doesn’t wait for a response, immediately bottoming out. they’re panting into eachothers mouths eyes glazed over. patricks hair has become almost string like from the sweat, his hat that would usually keep it uniform looking long lost somewhere else in the house.
pete’s hot and tight if patrick didn’t know any better he’d think pete hasn’t ever had sex before, he’s practically cutting off all of his cocks blood flow. he can hardly grind against him. the consistent squeeze bringing patrick closer to edge every second.
“gonna knock you up,” patricks hands trail over petes chest, rolling a nipple between his fingers “youre gonna sleep with my cock in you, make sure it takes alright? get you all pretty and swollen”
the way patrick leans in, his voice reaching his lowest register, is enough to make pete come around him, just in sync with patrick.
they end up falling asleep with pete on patricks chest. theyre enjoying eachothers body heat, the mess is a concern for in the morning. patrick makes sure to get a photo of the bruises forming across petes tanned skin. he’s his.
pete smiles to himself when he wakes up before his boyfriend, he breathes like a little baby.
Summary: Drunk Pete shows up to Patrick's house, and Patrick end up fucking him.
Tags: intox, (kinda) somno, dubcon, clingy Pete
A/n: wrote this while drinking. Very self-indulgent. Made Pete bottom because it makes me happy to see him put in his place.
Patrick was just heading off to bed. It had been a long day after and even longer tour, and he was ready for some well-deserved sleep that didn't come in the form of shared beds in hotels or cramped hot tour busses. He was midway through brushing his teeth when he got a call from Pete. He rolled his eyes and debated just letting it ring. but knowing Pete this could be just him calling to call or a life-or-death situation. He sighed and picked up the phone, opening his mouth to talk just to be interrupted by Pete.
"Paaatrick...I miss you..." Pete's word crackled over the phone. There was a certain click to the way he said his name that would've made Patrick shudder had it not been painfully obvious that Pete was drunk. Patrick sighed and decided it was probably best for Pete's ego to just get this call over with.
"You're drunk. Call someone to take you home."
"But I wanna see you...wanna talk to you..." Pete whined over the phone like a kicked puppy in the rain. Patrick was too exhausted from tour and having Pete by his side every single day. Sure, it was eerie with him gone, but it wasn't eerie enough to make Patrick put up with his bullshit at 11:30 pm.
"Call a cab. Go home." Patrick hung up before Pete could give him any reason to stay on the phone with him. He wasn't about to go back and forth with a drunk stubborn Pete, not when he could be showering and laying down for bed.
Patrick was about to lay down, fully ready to catch up on a lot of much needed sleep, when he heard someone knocking at his door. It was nearing 12 am, and he had no clue who would possibly be at his door to bother him at this hour. He groaned and started to pad his way over to his door. The person started to knock even more, quickly getting on Patrick's nerves.
"All right, all right, I'm coming..." Patrick grumbled as he approached his door. He opened it just to have Pete fall at his feet. He was clearly using the door to support himself, not considering how that might affect him when Patrick finally opened the door. Patrick quickly stepped back, letting Pete hit the floor in a heap.
"What are you doing here?" Patrick hissed when he saw Pete. Pete looked up at him and grabbed onto one of his legs. He looked absolutely pathetic right now, clinging onto Patrick's leg like it was a lifeline.
"I missed you..." Pete whined. He fumbled a bit to get up and almost immediately threw himself onto Patrick. He wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close and nestling his face in the crook of Patrick's neck.
Being this clingy wasn't abnormal for Pete on tour, but Patrick wasn't quite sure how to handle it when it was in his own apartment. He couldn't rationalize this as Pete missing home or having no other option. Pete came to his house and threw his arms around him. He could've gone home with any girl or called any of their friends or bandmates, but he chose him. Patrick would've thought deeper about that of he had the time. But right now he had a drunk hot Pete on him, and he had to figure out what to do.
Patrick closed the door and pulled Pete back with him. He set him on the couch and got some water that Pete did not want to accept. After much fussing and a lot of struggling, Patrick finally got Pete to drink the water. He tried to get as much water into his system as he could before he lied him down on the couch. Patrick grabbed him a blanket and a pillow before he started to walk back to his own room. Pete noticed, and he started whining about it almost immediately.
"'trick? where are you going...?" Pete cried out when Patrick left the room. Patrick sighed and turned around.
"I'm going to my room? I need to sleep too, y'know."
Pete whined and fumbled to get up and follow Patrick.
"Nooo...wanna be with you..." Pete fussed as he stumbled through the living room and followed Patrick. Patrick rolled his eyes and crossed his arms as he watched Pete use different things to support his weight.
"No, Pete, you're sleeping out here. I need to sleep alone."
Pete whined and finally got close enough to wrap around Patrick. He was leaning against him and practically crying into his shoulder. It felt like they were back on stage and Pete was clinging to him mid-set, not letting Patrick move away for even a second. Patrick wanted to push him off, but he simply didn't have the heart to say no when Pete was clinging to him and begging to be near him. Before Pete could whine even more about needing to be close to Patrick, he decided to just let Pete stay in his room.
"...fine. Come on."
Pete started to thank Patrick profusely as they walked into his room. Patrick just rolled his eyes and laid down for bed. He waited for Pete to slide in beside him before he turned off the light, a small way of showing he did really care that Pete was safe and comfortable. He settled in, and that was that.
Pete's mouth was hot against Patrick's, moving against his lips with desperation. They were both in the back of the tour bus, fumbling with each other's belts and moving quickly to try and utilize what little time they had. They moved against each other in sync, together like they were meant to be. They meshed together like guitar and bass, flowing easily as lyrics did in every song. Things continued to ramp up in heat and intensity, reaching a point unmatched by any experience Patrick or Pete had ever had...
Patrick woke up sweating and panting, feeling a familiar hardness in his pants. He groaned and moved to get up to relieve himself in private, only to be stopped by Pete tightly wrapping his arms around him. Pete whined and mumbled something under his breath. Patrick struggled against his hold, eventually giving in and laying staring at the ceiling.
Pete's tight hold on him was driving Patrick insane, both figuratively and literally. Patrick could feel his warm body pressed against him, and more importantly he could feel how hard Pete was right now. Patrick wanted to pounce, wanted to act on it, but Pete was drunk and he wasn't. It wouldn't be right.
Eventually Patrick's resolve began to crack. He moved Pete off him, but he whispered reassurances that he wasn't going anywhere. He kept his hands on Pete, gently helping Pete out of his clothes. Pete's eyes were half lidded and he still seemed half asleep. Patrick couldn't quite tell if he knew what was happening, but he could definitely tell that Pete was painfully hard and softly mumbling his name.
Patrick leaned over to his nightstand and grabbed a bottle of lube. He coated his fingers in it before easing one finger into Pete's hole. Pete whined and squirmed, but he was relaxed enough to make this easy for Patrick. Pete finally started to stutter out something coherent.
"Wha...Pa-trcik...wanna fuck you...not...not the other way around..." Pete said between moans and whines. Patrick slipped in another finger and tried his best to work him open. Even if he was using Pete tonight, he still cared too much about him to hurt him when he was helpless like this. Patrick shook his head at Pete's fussing and whining.
"No, no, not when you're like this...you can barely even stand..." Patrick continued to pump his finger in and out of Pete, scissoring his fingers every now and then to try and make sure he was somewhat ready for him. Patrick was growing more and more impatient, and he was tired of waiting. He coated his own dick in lube and lined himself up with Pete's hole.
Patrick groaned as he slowly started to ease his way in, hearing Pete gasp beneath him and feeling his walls twitch and pulse. He gripped onto Pete's hips and fully pushed inside, sighing when he bottomed out. Pete squirmed and whined while he tried to adjust, and once he was finally calm Patrick took that as an ok to start moving.
Patrick slammed into Pete at a brutal pace, clearly chasing his own pleasure and not really caring much about Pete's. Pete moaned and twitched beneath him, grabbing onto him and digging his nails into Patrick's back. Pete had stopped complaining a while ago, giving in to the pleasure and just being happy that he was so close to Patrick.
Patrick continued at a consistent and ruthless pace, moving in and out of Pete with a mixture of need and desperation.
"Pa-trcik...gonna...mph..." Pete whined while Patrick kept fucking him without slowing down. Patrick slowed down for just a second to shift their position to one where Patrick could fuck down into Pete hard and fast. Pete practically screamed and clenched around Patrick. Soon after that Pete's legs shook and he came hard, getting the mess all over Patrick and himself. Patrick groaned and continued to fuck Pete through his orgasm, continuing even with Pete protesting and saying it was too much. Patrick kept going until he finally pulled out and stroked himself until he came right on Pete's womb tattoo.
Pete and Patrick were both a mixture of heavy breathing and sweat until Patrick moved to go get a washcloth to clean Pete up. Patrick came back and tried his best to clean up Pete despite being tired and spent for the night. Pete was barely able to stay awake until Patrick was done and he laid back down next to Pete. He had his arms around Patrick in no time, cuddling into him and falling asleep almost immediately. Patrick sighed and decided to just give in and fall asleep cuddling Pete for the rest of the night.
(A/n: sorry if this sucks. Lmk if I made any typos or if I need to fix my grammar.)
