welcome to my side blog where i hornypost about my special guy (pete wentz) and what kind of things i'd like to inflict upon him through my other special guy (patrick stump)
somewhat dd:dne — proceed with caution.
my ao3
as with my main:
⭐️ 19
⭐️ they/them lesbian, i am a princess and also a little guy
⭐️ i don't really block all that often just don't be annoying
⭐️ anon asks/regular asks r always open
⭐️ i love u or maybe i don't
no dni, we're all weird freaks and i don't give a fuckkk.
i post about subbottom!pete. domtop!patrick. i'm also into dombottom!patrick specifically with travie mccoy but you'd never know by looking at my account. pstump is my control freak and i love him.
my mikeyway obsession is separate from my fob obsession. i don't like petekey. pwentz & mikeyway are both bottoms who, when put in a room together, will make out and dryhump but are literally unable to go any further. peterickey is vaguely annoying to me but not the worst in the world i suppose.
rpf with a heavy emphasis on fiction. i'm talking about the fictional versions of my band guys that live in my head.
profiction, proship, pro everything fucked up. it's fiction, it's not hurting anyone. fiction is inherently political—you're never 'just' writing porn. everything means something and our internal biases tint our fiction.
anti-waycesters, this is not the place for you. i probably won't be posting much about it (because i'm a falloutblog), but just know that i fuck w/ it and my wife fucks mikey way's rotting corpse.
#/pwentz, #/pstump, #/rtoro, #/mway are basically all the men i'm weird about
#/fem for me dykeposting about my special guys
#/intox, #/cnc, #/noncon, #/dubcon, #/underage for the obvious
#/little bites for my excerpts from upcoming fics
#⭐️speaks for asks
#⭐️ for me yapping
How willing are you to do some very questionable stalker!pete stuff ?? If you do I’ll owe you my life
so here's my thing about stalker!pete.
i tend to lean away from the whole. 'pete as a scary predator' thing. because i think it both:
a) has been done far too many times in the same two ways and i find that generally uninteresting.
b) plays into a lot of lame stereotypes that ascribe a lot more negative intent to his behavior than i think he actually has.
that being said, i do have a vision for a stalker!pete, i just think it may be considerably more lame and pathetic than you're probably thinking/hoping/wanting.
unfortunately i couldn't find a good pic of pwentz from arma era looking particularly stalker-ish, so you're stuck with the camera pic of him 💗 he's so cute 💗
he meets patrick at one of arma's shows so he should probably be a little less fascinated by him. he's just another kid who shows up to shows to watch pete scream like he's some kind of god. except pete thinks he's kind of the most adorable thing ever
he's not subtle about it at all. he finds patrick's home number through the phone book and his cell number through a friend of a friend of a friend, but he's too chickenshit to actually use it. he figures out where patrick lives that same way and some light following of patrick's car. by far his best discovery is finding out where patrick works.
he starts popping in once in a while until he eventually can't stop himself and starts showing up almost every single time he works.
the problem is that patrick just thinks it's cool. instead of being worried about how this guy seems to know everything about him, he just thinks it's sick that the pete wentz cares enough to come in to see him. he also doesn't have too many friends, so it seems kind of awesome to have this older guy talking to him and he doesn't have anyone to warn him it's kinda weird.
patrick's not really online all that much, but he does have an aol account and he gets a random friend request from n3ve3rn3v3rl4nd. when he accepts the request, it's an immediate barrage of flirty, almost immediately explicit messages from a chick who says she's seventeen and goes to glenbrook.
he's hesitant to play into it at first, but she says she got his user off one of his friends from the scene and she sends a pic of herself and it kinda looks like this chick he's seen around. she doesn't quite look seventeen, but patrick figures it's just because she's got piercings.
they message back and forth for a bit until she finally asks for a picture of him. his dick, specifically. she hasn't sent anything like that of herself, but patrick figures that's probably just because it's riskier for girls.
when he sends it, she's immediately sending a dozen messages talking about how much she wants it inside and how fucking hot he is. it does wonders for patrick's ego, he can't lie.
they keep talking for a couple weeks. she describes vivid fantasies of how she wants him and seems weirdly into anal. patrick didn't think chicks were all that into that, but he thinks he might've just gotten lucky. he's heard it's better like that.
the only issue is that she keeps dropping these little references to patrick's work. how the shelves are organized, how he acts at work, little jokes that have to do with things he and pete have talked about super briefly. he's never seen her there before, and the store's not exactly a bustling hot spot.
at first, he just thinks it's a weird coincidence.
and then she sends the message.
like in basket case hehe
the movie he and pete had last talked about having both seen. bonded over watching the low-budget horror flick on accident from the same blockbuster.
he could ordinarily brush it off, but with the combination of that and everything else, patrick's absolutely certain she's not who she says she is. he calls up pete through the number he has saved under pete's name and waits for him to pick up.
he doesn't.
patrick calls again and a third time before pete finally picks up. he says a meek hello? through the line and patrick has to resist the urge to yell at him. not because he's actually all that mad, but just because he doesn't understand the point. like, what? the goal was to humiliate him? get his dick pics, spread 'em around, and maybe catch a child porn charge in the process? he's smarter than that. maybe.
it was you the whole time?
... yeah. pete sounds a little nervous over the phone, and patrick imagines him slumped up like a scolded dog. didn't think you'd want t' talk 'f you knew it was me.
who was the girl in the pictures then?
pete clears his throat. my— uh— my ex girlfriend.
patrick sits with that for a few seconds, trying to decide how he feels. he doesn't exactly feel cheated or anything. like, sure he thought he was sending pictures of his dick to some you could've just asked me normally y'know. i still would've sent 'em t'you.
for real? pete lets out this loud breath. what if— what if i wanted t'do more than just see you? i still meant all th' things i said about wanting you t'... y'know.
patrick bites at the inside of his cheek all contemplatively. this is further than he ever thought he'd go, especially with pete wentz. he knows he's already kind of made the decision when he realizes he's just thinking of ways he could lie to his mom to go see pete.
waiterrr!!!!! i request more tboy pete!!!!!! with extra dry humping!!!!
i'm seriously starting to feel like i somehow picked up a second job as a server in a restaurant with all the calls for a waiter. i'm a barista, man!!!
doing infinity era this time because i can and i think he deserves to exist outside of just 2003. also because infinity era pwentz is beautiful. #tome.
pete's always at his most annoying before a show. something about the anxiety mixed with the excitement mixed with the general demeanor of pete wentz. he's really just a terror to deal with.
pete's favorite thing to do before a show is track patrick down to annoy the fuck out of him. usually in the form of throwing his body against him and trying to wrestle him to the ground.
today, pete's decided to go twice as hard as usual, and he almost takes patrick out as he's doing his vocal warmups in his dressing room—their dressing room, really, but pete's been m.i.a. for hours. patrick elbows him probably-too-hard in the stomach to get him off and it doesn't seem to phase pete at all.
you're so fucking annoying sometimes. patrick pushes him back against the wall, until pete's securely trapped.
patrick has to pin pete's arms to his sides because he's trying to wiggle his way out, and that usually just results in attempt number two of his monday night RAW special. it's not supposed to be a sexual thing. at least, not right away.
but then patrick makes the mistake of pressing his thigh up and in and shifting at just the right angle and pete gasps. his face goes a little red and he moves his own hips again while keeping arguably too much eye contact.
that's what you want?
pete shrugs a little, playing at innocence. his eyes are glued down on patrick's lips, though and he's grinding his hips down in tiny little circles.
if that's how pete wants to play this, patrick won't say no. he holds onto pete at the hips and jerks them forward until pete tenses up under his hands. pete starts working with him after a second or two, adjusting his position so he can ride patrick's thigh more effectively.
he's whining after only a few minutes.
just touch me already. pete's pulling at patrick's hand all impatiently. 's not like anyone's gonna walk in on us. they'd knock.
but you're doing so good like this. you don't need my help.
pete huffs all annoyed and patrick forces his hips to keep moving. pete falls almost limp against patrick's shoulder and uses whatever strength he has left to grip at patrick's shoulders.
know what could make this easier? patrick lets go of him and backs up just enough for pete to panic, gripping back onto him like he thinks patrick's saying it's over.
instead, patrick just pulls at his zipper and pete nods, almost deliriously. patrick only pulls pete's jeans down to his knees before pushing his knee back between his thighs. like this, he's sure the contact is much more immediate. without the added layer of denim, pete's leaking through his briefs, and patrick can feel it. it's more than just the regular warmth.
he doesn't have to force it much longer. pete gets desperate—too close to coming to ignore his need any longer—and accepts that he can't have it any other way. he's practically sobbing against patrick's shoulder as he comes, staining his briefs and the dark blue denim of patrick's jeans.
before he pulls pete's jeans back up, he finally lets his fingers slide into pete's briefs, carefully avoiding his oversensitive areas, collecting just enough wetness on his fingers that when he pulls his hand away, his fingers shine in the light.
he presses those fingers into his mouth, lips quirking up at the corners when pete basically starts panting.
okay, i gotta finish getting ready. go make sure your bass is tuned with your tech.
why do my asks keep disappearing into the void 😢😢😢 i've had like 3 diff people message me that they sent me asks and they've disappeared 😢😢😢 tumblr why do u hate me 😢😢😢
do you know that one blue mascara Pete wore in the folie a deux poster? what if like after that patrick lowkey overstimulated him to make him cry and see the blue run down his face ok do you see the vision ye
i almost couldn't figure out what image you were referencing because i was thinking BRIGHT blue and i completely forgot he has that really nice, subtle blue on the poster.
folie is a great era for overstim bc patrick truly did not gaf. he WANTED pete to suffer. as much as possible, honestly. it's atonement for his sin of existing and being a little annoying about it.
really great look for pwentz i cannot understate that. and also y2k colorful mascara? that shit bleeds BAD. it'd be melting off with a little too much sweat, honestly.
it's almost not fun to overstimulate pete. it's just too easy. he gets overwhelmed too easily, but sometimes patrick gets really cruel. lately, the cruelness has been coming thanks to the near-constant arguments.
getting pete in bed is almost too easy, honestly. he goes without needing to really be told. a nod in the right direction after they've gone back to patrick's place and he's folding. patrick usually has it in him to find it endearing.
pete's the one thing he can control, really. he's been getting enough pushback on the album to push him over the edge, and he's not sure how much longer he can handle pete having to miss recording sessions because he has a million other things to do. most notably with his wife.
pete's too fucking famous. patrick tells him so all the time.
's not my fault, pete reminds him, wiggling up the bed a bit while trying to work off his pants.
patrick gets his hands on pete and pete loses structural integrity. he collapses like a puddle into the bed, spread out for the taking. he never resists, it's too easy.
i love you, pete says, all hot against patrick's ear. like he always does.
love you too, patrick says back, and he means it, even if it doesn't sound like it. spread your legs.
pete does as he's told like always, makes room for patrick between his thighs. the first orgasm is the easiest. all patrick has to do is take his dick into his mouth and press a finger up inside him until pete arches and whines. patrick makes him come on his own stomach and presses in a second finger while pete's still shuddering.
y're gonna give me four.
four? pete presses his head back into the bed. what happened to three?
you can take it, patrick says dismissively, jerking pete's cock slowly. know you can.
no, trick, i can't.
patrick gives a drawn out, disappointed sigh. you aren't even gonna try?
pete whines, dissatisfied. nonono. he grips the sheets between his hands. can try. but i won't be able to. don't want you t' be disappointed in me.
it's almost sentimental enough for patrick to care. he jerks pete off and presses his fingers up against his prostate brutally just to hear pete yelp all pathetically. he waits until pete's coming again to keep talking.
we can do three, i guess. patrick says it like it's a chore.
pete says something that's not-quite words and nods vaguely. patrick reaches for the lube again and pointedly ignores the condoms. he knows they should, but pete never bothers and he likes leaving his mark on pete. like a reminder that he can get married, but it'll never replace patrick.
he kisses up the column of pete's throat, threatens at a hickey just enough to make pete squirm and bat at his shoulder. sometimes, the evil part of him wants to do it anyway. but then he thinks of the fall out and remembers that he can't really afford to implode pete's life either.
that doesn't mean he has to be nice about it.
ashlee doesn't get you off enough? 's that why you come to me all the fucking time? he fucks pete like he deserves—hard and mean. i'm better at it than your wife? 's 'at it?
trick. don't. the conflict in his eyes is apparent, his dick twitches too. you know—
yeah. patrick rolls his eyes, but he backs down anyway.
pete's about to say something else, but patrick just fucks him harder, hand coming up to enclose his throat. pete moans like a bitch in heat, arching up against patrick all desperately.
you know you look like a whore like this. act like one too.
pete gets the prickling of tears at the corners of his eyes, and he bucks up against patrick. the tears start spilling down and it takes his makeup from the shoot with it. patrick told him not to wipe off the mascara. pete never says no to him.
patrick fucks him through his third orgasm. until pete is grasping at his shoulders and whimpering up against his ear, you just said three. you said only three.
patrick scoffs. so you can't take it? i haven't even gotten off yet.
that gets pete to back down. he falls limp against the bed, blue streaking down his temples and smudging under his eyes into a mess.
tell me no. if you don't want it. if you want me to stop that bad. it lacks his usual concern. it's more like goading.
no, pete says petulantly. i c'n take it.
which is what he always says, but he doesn't always mean it. patrick's not in the mood to coddle him tonight, unfortunately for pete.
it's not hard to wring another orgasm out of him, though it's considerably more pitiful. pete shudders through it, mouth open and letting out pathetic little sounds. he's still sobbing as patrick fucks his release into him, hand cupped around the back of patrick's neck for stability.
with it all out of his system, patrick doesn't feel so cruel anymore. he helps pete clean up and kisses him better as they curl up on the couch to watch a movie.
pete pissing him off all show just to get fucked backstage but patrick isn't fucking playing this time so instead he makes him wait. except instead of just for a couple of hours or waiting until the next day, he decides to really catch him off guard.
he waits until pete's fallen asleep—is it cruel to wake up the insomniac by fucking him? maybe—and spits in his hand until he figures it's good enough. pete—for his difficulties falling asleep—has no issue staying asleep, so he doesn't wake up when patrick not-so-nicely pulls off his briefs.
it's a little hard to get inside him like this, and he wakes pete up in the process of trying to bottom out. pete's hands curl into the mattress and he whimpers like he's in pain.
shut the fuck up. stop being such a pussy.
pete leans back into him, blearily tilts his head back over his shoulder. patrick—
shut the fuck up.
pete turns his head back into the bed to bury his mouth in the sheets as patrick fucks him. he shifts up onto his knees a bit, if just to get a better angle. patrick—mercifully—doesn't comment on it.
you're so fucking mouthy all the time, huh? 'n you never fuckin' listen. you love t' piss me off but you hate it when i get pissed. what sense d's that make?
pete uncovers his mouth just enough to say, 'm sorry.
no, i don't think you are, pete. i'm sure you will be sorry, though.
patrick fucks him until he cries, hand coming around to jerk him off, but the second he feels the signs of pete's orgasm, he stops. pete lets out a desperate little whimper, pressing back into patrick and grinding down a bit.
no. you don't get t' come. not with how fucking annoying you were t'day.
pete whines. please, patrick. i'll be so good.
yeah, you will.
and—true to his word—patrick fucks him, but never lets him come. doesn't even come inside him like pete wants. instead he comes across the small of pete's back and pulls pete's boxers back up.
if y're good next show, i'll think about letting you come.
pete doesn't so much as breathe wrong the next day.
"twink destroyed by bear" + the pictures and you're just NOT gonna write that?! do you hate me or something?! 🤤🤤🤤
to be fair this is basically the plot to my age gap fic.
buttt if we want something NEW.
pete just wants to film a porno. just to see. patrick's been single for a while—divorced, two kids—and does it for some quick cash, never shows his face. easy in, easy out. the only requirement is that it's got that 'homemade' vibe. no filters, no fancy cameras, no special just the two of them
pete is an overly ambitious firsttimer and patrick fuuucks. like fuuuuuucks. but he's very unassuming about it so he assumes patrick'll just be vanilla, probably has a big enough dick to get away with it.
he is wrong. gravely so.
patrick's skeptical about it at first. pete's, like, twenty and obviously has no idea what he's in for. for one, he didn't even bring a water bottle and for two, he's got an overly cocky set to his shoulders.
have you ever done this before? the guy—patrick—asks, looking at him all condescendingly.
no. pete shrugs. how hard c'n it be?
he's done approximately zero research, and this whole thing is pretty low key as long as you're hot and know what sex is. it also requires a negative std panel, but pete hasn't fucked anyone since he dumped his ex three months ago, so he's feeling good on that front.
patrick rolls his eyes at pete and shows him to the main set. patrick doesn't have high hopes, honestly. there've been enough people who've come through not knowing what they're in for. he just hopes that they can actually get a couple good shots from this, so he'll at least get paid to get this twink off. especially because he's sure he'll go home disappointed with a wilting boner and blue balls.
they make him start off fingering himself for the camera, up on the counter at an awkward angle. he can't quite get it right, but the fact that he's doing it on camera is enough to get him all worked up. he spreads his legs wider and teases around his hole and makes a whole show of it.
patrick's watching him from over the camera and his eyes are glued to the viewfinder.
eyes on the camera, he says, gesturing down. with a tilt of his head.
pete tries not to be disappointed by it.
eventually, one of the guys off to the right indicates that that's good enough and gestures down. pete starts to get off the counter and patrick reaches for him.
put those back on. he pulls at pete's briefs around one ankle and one-handedly helps him slide them back on the right way. people love the whole half-dressed thing.
pete bites his lip, trying to be sexy. are you 'people'?
patrick doesn't laugh. he just makes him get down on his knees and works his zipper down with one hand. he lets pete help him, which is pete's only indication that patrick doesn't entirely hate him.
it feels weird to be looking up at a camera instead of a face as he sucks dick, but pete ignores the oddness of it. he's also a little too busy focusing on trying not to choke. he's still gagging around patrick, blinking away tears until he can feel his eyeliner streaking down his face.
he starts mindlessly humping at patrick's calf, until his eyes roll back and his eyes fall shut. it might be overdoing it, but it feels damn good.
he can feel patrick twitching in his mouth, which he assumes is a good sign. he's also groaning and gently fucking his hips forward to meet pete's mouth.
what a fucking slut.
it startles pete so badly that he comes. he just barely manages to keep his hold on what he's doing, but he retracts his hips to give himself the slightest break.
if patrick notices pete's situation, he doesn't mention it. he honestly might be too far gone trying to get off. pete kinda wants to get patrick off like this—to make it fair at least—but then patrick is using his free hand to pull pete back by the hair.
get on the counter.
pete doesn't know what that means but he doesn't have to; patrick presses him stomach-down against it. the second camera sits in front of him now, and he realizes just how much of a production this really is. not that he had much for misconceptions when he saw how long the contract he had to sign was.
patrick pulls down pete's briefs and pulls up the back of his shirt until the length of his spine is exposed and fucks him with two fingers first, like pete really needs it. that doesn't last long before he's rolling on the condom and pressing in and wow. if he was a lot for pete's mouth, it's a whole other thing being inside him.
pete's immediately gone. he comes after, like, three strokes and patrick seems like he's pulling away, but pete just presses back into him. he figures that's sign enough but he adds a please just in case.
patrick doesn't fuck nicely. he pulls at pete's hair before pushing his head down against the wood and uses his other hand to dig his fingers into pete's waist. it only ever leaves to intermittently slap his ass harder than pete ever expects. he's perpetually stinging and red-raw after just a few times.
he's a fucking mess—sobbing and gripping the counter with desperate fingers. he's getting the distinct urge to moan out patrick's name, which he's pretty sure is against the rules, so he bites his tongue.
he comes again before patrick's even come once, but he's dedicated to getting him off. thankfully, patrick pulls out before pete really can't take it.
he pulls off the condom and jerks himself off onto pete's back, leaving a couple seconds of in-between before all the producers descend. the cameras all get clicked off and pete's wiped off by who he hopes is patrick. whoever it is also pulls up his boxers and rubs almost soothingly over his back.
pete's panting for a while after, rolled over on his back across the counter. patrick's breathing heavy too but not nearly heavy enough for pete's ego.
still, patrick somewhat-affectionately pats the outside of pete's thigh. not bad for an amateur.
you doubted me?
patrick makes him sit up and forces the water on him; won't even let pete hold the bottle as he pours it in his mouth. if pete hadn't already come three times, he'd probably get a boner about it.
when pete's off the counter and his heart's stopped beating out of his chest, he walks up with slightly less bravado than before. so, can i, like, get your number or...?
patrick rolls his eyes but he gives it to him, and that feels like a good sign.
this image always gives me. him taking it from behind. getting fucked across the counter in the sex shop. dilf!patrick. filming twink destroyed by bear.
codependent pete... idk what you just did but that post absolutely changed my brain chemistry 🤤
we would not have the fall out boy music that we do if pete wentz weren't a codependent little fuck. truly it is everything that he is.
he falls in love with anyone he fucks twice and he literally doesn't know how not to be someone's boyfriend. he saw every breakup as a personal affront and didn't know how to stay friends with his exes for that exact reason!!!
i think that a lot of what makes peterick such an interesting dynamic wherein pete treats patrick like one of his girlfriends while also keeping a hazy sort of distinction there. he manages to attach that same kind of codependency to patrick, though in a clearer form with more of the love and less of the spite.
side note — i was searching for that pwentz tweet (unsuccessfully) that goes something like 'don't you get it? a hiatus is forever until you get old or lonely. i don't plan on being either' which is very reminiscent of this attitude of the resentment at being abandoned. he holds that sort of spite in his songwriting and it's sort of the other side of the coin to his super-sappy lovepoems.
folie era peterick is inherently dubcon to me because it's all just pete holding onto the one good thing in his life and thereby being willing to do literally anything for him if it means he'll stay, and patrick (wittingly or not) taking advantage of that to get what he wants.
pete denying himself autonomy and independence in his quest to hold onto the one good thing he has left even if that means putting himself in emotionally and potentially physically harmful situations trying desperately not to upset patrick.
the big problem with that is that it's the exact thing that frustrates patrick the most: pete has no real sense of himself and offloads all of that onto the people around him, which he seems to think is helpful in that it lets everyone else dictate how they want him to be, but in reality it just means he's literally incapable of making his own decisions.
patrick likes to be in control of the situation, and he's usually perfectly fine being that for people—especially pete—but that much. not so much that he's literally in charge of where pete is and will be for the entire day. it makes him feel like an abusive, controlling dick.
pre-h pete really just has codependency flowing thru his veins.
ohhh WAITERRR!!! how do you feel about tgirl pete and roleplaying!! patricks awkward ass trying to play along while pete's going all in with like bunny ears or some shit
idk if i made any sense !! sorry im literally in class hehe
i love anything tgirlwentz she's my babygirl and i like it when she fucks nastystyle. i am a firm believer that pstump is only awkward about roleplay when he thinks pete is joking.
everyone look at my beautiful princess. isn't she wonderful. the middle one especially UGHHH. look at her. my beautiful angel who can do no wrong in my eyes.
this is probably situated around 2024—pre-bottom surgery, one-ish year on e, fresh off the u.s. leg of 2ourdust. babygirl is home and she is HORNY.
they're at home one day—drinking wine and watching eighties movies—when pete gets up out of nowhere. she disappears for a bit and comes back to patrick with a fluffy tail, bunny ears, white lingerie, and a dream. patrick thinks she's joking. she is not.
she has the good sense to ask before she just outright does it. she's giving patrick her puppy eyes and a little pout, holding the stuff out like she wants patrick to wear it.
baby, what is this?
i wanna wear something pretty for you.
patrick looks at her a little like she's crazy. but she's just pouting and blinking all innocently, hands still clutching the silk.
okay, patrick says, even though he's still half-convinced this is some kind of joke or prank or something.
she actually looks really good in it, as it turns out. patrick figures that out when she comes into the bedroom, all dressed up and looking thrilled about it. if patrick ignores the massive bunny ears on her head, she looks kind of normal.
the bunny ears aren't the upright ones, either. they're weirdly nice quality and sit floppily against the sides of her head. they almost match the whitest sections of her highlights, too.
i've always thought i'd make a good pet bunny. she flops down onto the bed and crosses her legs, which does nothing to hide the way she's obviously excited. i do, don'tcha think?
you're a pet bunny? patrick gives her a once-over. you know i don't let animals up on the bed.
she blinks owlishly and doesn't move for a few seconds. not until patrick sighs all overly-theatrical and pulls her down to the floor. her little pillow is still tucked under the bed. she pulls it out the second her knees hit the ground. it's got the frills and ruffles she insisted upon in her quest to 'embrace her feminine energy'.
does bunny know how to do any tricks? patrick's mouth fumbles with it for a second—he's not even sure if that's a thing pet bunnies do—but he figures she's probably just as uninformed.
she nods shyly, like she hadn't been the one to come in in panties and a see-through lace bra. her mouth drops open and she leans into patrick's hip with her temple.
patrick can never deny pete anything, so he unzips his pants and lets her at what she so obviously wants. she takes it like she always does: well. she doesn't fight it or even really instinctually resist. her body just lets it happen.
after being coaxed to the right place, she does the rest all on her own. she keeps her sparkling eyes trained up on patrick's, bobbing her head up and down and smirking up at patrick when he groans. she's cocky about her blowjob skills—something patrick is very familiar with by now.
it doesn't take long before her pretty little cock is pushing against the fabric of her panties and she's all trembly. even though she's just sucking dick, folded up on her pillow on the floor. she's dutifully looking up, and patrick gets a good visual of the drool leaking out of the corners of her mouth and down her chin.
she ends up grinding down on patrick's foot, humping it like an animal, patrick's dick still far enough back to make her gag. she still looks damn pretty, eyelashes fluttering all helplessly, tears running down her cheeks.
almost there, bunny. c'mon, pretty girl. he's getting his endearments confused, but pete doesn't seem to care. she stays bobbing her head, fluffy little ears rocking with her.
her eyes roll back and shut and she tenses up, hips spasming like she's coming. and she is. patrick gets a good view of the way it soaks into the front of her panties when she leans back, eyes all hazy and blissed-out.
bad girl, i didn't tell you you could come. patrick tangles his hand into her hair and forces his cock back down her throat until she's coughing and spluttering around it. she makes a pitiful little whine, but otherwise doesn't fight it.
she's saying 'm sorry around patrick's dick—he can tell—and she's making up for it with the way she's still trying her very best. her tongue runs messily along the underside in that way she knows he likes.
such a good girl, huh? good bunny.
patrick comes down her throat while she's still coming down from her orgasm, eyes not entirely focused.
i don't believe in too odd. although i am a bad person to ask about Normal Periods because i have the demons that kill your uterus. so i will cosplay as someone who knows what a normal period is like today!
i do imagine he probably really officially starts t when he's like 18-19, so this is technically unfeasible given my previous iteration of him... so imagine it either Doesn't Work Like That or mayhaps that he's off it for whatever reason! creative liberties! create your own world! in your mind! #inyourmind.
takes place??? van days??? probably. probably between tttyg & fuct in terms of popularity/funds (separate hotel rooms baby 😛).
patrick doesn't ever say it, but he can tell when pete's on his period. he knows you're not supposed to say that or whatever, but he can tell. because pete always gets a little more mood-swing-y (which, for him, is a feat) and he—more prominently and usually the symptom patrick notices first—becomes fucking ravenous.
patrick knows he's in for this month's round when he wakes up to pete straddling him—having somehow moved him onto his back in the middle of the night—and grinding down on him.
they do this song and dance every month in various settings, usually brought on by living two doors down from each other. on tour, the access is a little more immediate.
y'know, you could just wake me up. like a normal person.
shut up. pete just keeps grinding down on him.
patrick's too groggy to do anything about it at first. he lays back and lets pete do as he pleases. this is a semi-regular occurrence by now—even when he's not on his period, and patrick just thanks the powers that be that pete didn't choose a day where they have to be up early in the morning.
when patrick actually reaches down to take his boxers off, pete's face screws up all weirdly. patrick's not sure what invisible boundary he's crossing—but he stops in his tracks.
what?
you're not worried 'bout getting all bloody?
patrick grimaces a little at the bluntness of it, but otherwise finds the prospect entirely inoffensive. he's already told pete several times that he sees no issue with eating him out on his period—and has made good on it—so he can't imagine fucking him during it would be much more crazy a concept. though he's readily willing to admit this may just be a pete-ism that he'll never be capable of understanding.
if you're okay with it, i want it.
patrick, you're gonna get blood on your dick. pete's scowling all sassy-teen and patrick has to roll his eyes. don't be like that. there's no way you're into that.
patrick proves him wrong. and, really, it's not hard. because the second he's inside of pete, he can't imagine caring about a little blood. patrick's hands end up on pete's hips and pete insists on being on top, rocking down against patrick in barely-there little grinding motions, moaning softly.
patrick's hand comes up and he presses his thumb against pete's tdick and he shocks a little, rocking forward into patrick's hand. he lets out a needy whine and his hand curls into the front of patrick's sleepshirt.
pete gets weird about sex sometimes, but tonight he seems to be in it. he's letting himself lean into patrick. at some point, he leans all the way down to kiss patrick and the angle change does something for him, because he makes this high-pitched little squeak and rocks into it even harder.
pete—
you gonna come? pete asks in that too-low, too-sultry voice that he gets from porn. it's okay. you can inside. i wan' it.
patrick holds the back of pete's neck to keep their foreheads pressed together. he knows pete's on some kind of birth control. he doesn't know what kind, but he knows it's not the pill. it's one that he doesn't have to replace so often.
patrick keeps fumbling to rub pete off, until he's clenching around him and choking out patrick's name. pete always sounds so fucking good getting off and patrick grips the skin of pete's ass when he gets close to hold him down.
patrick comes inside pete and stays pressed up against him until pete stops panting so hard. unfortunately that means pete's coherent enough to start complaining about having to clean up, which means patrick has to coax him into the bathroom and reassure him over and over again that it's not gross. the whole clean-up takes twice as long as it should because pete is not cooperating.
it's totally worth it for the way pete settles back down against him like a happy kitten when they're all done.