#trickydoll

@pmvstump this one’s for you, kid. (And me feeding into what might be a neck thing of my own hdgklssrdtgjhl)

Taken (by my own choice) from prompt 20 of the drabble challenge.

20.  “D..did you just make that noise?”

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Patrick was panting.

He was pressed up against a wall by Pete, whose hands were travelling over his hips and under his shirt and barely gliding over his jeans, and he was panting.

The bassist had a thigh wedged between the vocalist’s legs, greatly relishing the fact that the younger man was weakly thrusting his hips against it.

They had been a band for a couple of years now, but even as Pete had watched the former seventeen year old grow and change, he knew that he could still briefly reduce his outspoken, spunky personality to a lust-filled, needy one.

“You’re so gorgeous, Tricky,” Pete crooned in Patrick’s ear, leaning forward to nip at it slightly.

The contact made Patrick roll up his hips and gasp softly, the blush on his cheeks complementing his dark strawberry-blond hair. His shirt was pushed up slightly, wrinkled into Pete’s fist and exposing some of his soft belly.

“You still haven’t changed much,” Pete continued, rubbing his thigh up against Patrick’s crotch slightly. “I bet I could still make you come in your jeans.” He pressed a kiss to the younger man’s jaw, then another, covering his jawline in open-mouthed kisses that made the vocalist squirm and pant and groan.

And then-

And then, Pete dipped his head, pulling on Patrick’s soft hair to tilt his head back, and pressed a particularly hungry kiss on his neck, just on his pulse point-

And Patrick keened.

"Unnhhh, Pete!” His hips rocked forward, and his long-lashed eyes fluttered shut as the soft, desperate, lust-filled whine left his pretty pink lips.

Pete stared at him, eyes wide, grabby hands temporarily pausing. “D...Did you just make that noise?”

The soft blush on Patrick’s cheeks flared up even more, and his blue eyes met Pete’s dark brown ones nervously. “Maybe..?”

Pete groaned. “Fuck, Trick, that was so hot.” He pulled away briefly to look at the younger man. Patrick’s cap was skewed slightly on his head, off-balanced and making him look more flustered. It shadowed his eyes, making his pupils grow wide with darkness dilation and lust. “Do you have a neck thing?” Pete’s voice was darker, huskier.

Patrick’s lower lip caught between his teeth as he stared up at Pete through his lashes in an oh-so-heart-melting way. “I mean, I-I guess I’ve never really thought-thought about it?” Somewhere in the back of his mind, the singer might have tried to think about if he’d ever had a particular like for neck kisses or bites, but his mind was too fogged up, clouded with thoughts of oh, fuck and more and touch me and Pete. Always Pete.

Pete smirked, pressing a kiss to Patrick’s pulse again and drinkinng in his shuddery gasp. His mouth opened, hot and wet against the skin, and he began to suck at the area.

One of Patrick’s hands flew up and gently knotted itself in Pete’s black locks, his hips beginning to stutter against the bassist’s thigh again.

Pete smiled against Patrick’s neck to himself, before opening his mouth again and licking a hot, wet stripe up his neck to his jaw.

And ordinarily, it might have been gross, and ordinarily Patrick might have yelled or pushed Pete away, but this was certainly not an ordinary scenario, and all Patrick could do was mewl helplessly and let Pete take control.

The older man experimentally nipped at the light skin of Patrick’s neck, before taking it into his mouth and sucking again. And again, and again, until he pulled away and proudly grinned at the purple and red bruises blooming on the pale skin like watercolour drops on paper. He presses a final open-mouthed kiss to the dip of Patrick’s collarbones-

And that was it. Patrick whined softly, fingers tightening around Pete’s raven hair, and his hips rocked rougly against his thigh for another three heartbeats, and then his eyes rolled back into his head, and he slumped into Pete’s arms.

Pete smiled victoriously, before it turned into a more caring one. He wrapped his arms around Patrick supportively, and took off his cap, placing it over his own head. “You alright, lunchbox?”

Now that’s what I’m talking about!! And thank you!! <3

——————————–

Pete’s hips worked furiously against Patrick’s, his hands pinning the younger boy’s shoulders and waist to the wall behind him.

“Peeeeete,” Patrick whined softly, strawberry pink lips open, sinfully soft tongue hanging out slightly. With his baby blue eyes rolled back in his head, framed by his crooked glasses, dark blond hair ruffled, he’d never looked more pleasured.

Pete kissed his neck with an open mouth, rutting against him harder. Patrick, soft and pliant beneath him, was his, his, his…

“Pete!” Patrick gasped. “Pete, w-wait, not yet.”

The darker haired man nodded, pulling away. “Patrick,” he murmured in a dark tone, “let me fuck you against this wall.”

Patrick blinked up at him, eyes lidded slightly with pleasure. “Hm?”

Pete groaned softly, digging his hands into the younger man harder. “God, Patrick just- just let me take you against this wall. So pretty for me, I can’t be bothered to get you to a bed…”

And Patrick nodded almost feverently, cheeks glowing with the praise. “Yes, yeah…” he whined, as Pete wasted no time pulling himself out of his boxers.

Fishing a bottle of lube around the jeans now bunching around his thighs, Pete drizzled some onto his hand, before thrusting into it gently and hissing softly as he did so. Tucking the bottle away, he pulled down Patrick’s already unbuttoned jeans and boxers down his legs, dark eyes locking with his brighter ones steadily.

Patrick bit his lip shyly, flushed cheeks almost matching the colour of his kiss-pressed lips. The sight made Pete’s hips stutter forward, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

He reached down, caressing the inside of Patrick’s pale thighs, before resting his warm hands on the outside. “Jump.”

And Patrick jumped, wrapping his legs around Pete’s waist, arms draped around his shoulders. Pete leaned in to give his neck a kiss, then leaned up to nibble at his earlobe. “Ready?” he murmured huskily in the younger man’s ear. 

Patrick moaned softly, head resting against a wall, which Pete (very happily) took as a yes. Carefully slowly, as to not hurt the younger man, he sunk inside him, breathing suddenly heavier against Patrick’s neck.

Patrick squirmed under him, grip in Pete’ hair tightening. “Ah, Pete, move…”

Pete began to rock against him slowly, grip on the underside of Patrick’s thighs tightening. His hips twitched with the want to move faster, but he kept his pace steady.

“Faster,” Patrick mewled eventually, beginning to rock against him. “Fuuuck, faster!”

The older man began to move faster, burying his dick further inside Patrick. He began to angle his hips, as if trying to touch as much of Patrick as he could manage-

And then his cock must have brushed against a certain sensitive nerve, because Patrick suddenly jerked, back arched in a gorgeous curve, mouth dropped open, eyes rolled back in his head. “Unh, Pete! Nnhhh, fuck, right there, ah!" 

The sight (and sounds) of Patrick unravelling before him made Pete groan, every pretty sound dropping from his pretty mouth spurring him on. He thrusted, thrusted, becoming slopper with every movement-

And Patrick moaned, moaned loudly, and suddenly there was white fluid covered both of their bellies. He thunked his head against the cool wall, panting. 

Patrick coming undone made the sparks of lust in Pete’ gut flare up, and just when Patrick began to squirm from overstimulation, Pete groaned, face buried in Patrick’s neck,and released inside him.

The two of them stayed that way for a minute, panting and whining, until Pete very carefully set Patrick down, making sure to hold him up.

"I’m going to be sore for a week…” the younger boy blushed, eyes lowered. 

Pete pushed up lightly under his chin, making him look up, eyes lidded and dark. “You’ll think of me every time you hurt, baby boy.

She’s My Winona - Fall Out Boy

“Hell or glory, I don’t want anything inbetween”

———————————

Yellow eyes. God, it was those damned yellow eyes again.

Joe stood across from Patrick - no, a monster, that wasn’t Patrick before him - with a mere operating table between them. A simple setup of metal beams and contrastingly soft sheets with a sobering meaning was the only thing separating Joe from the manipulated man in front of him.Adrenaline was shooting through his veins, and yet that only made him more tired. He was worn down, hungry, and terrified. His band had been wrenched apart. The lady who they thought was helping them reverted Patrick back to a creature from anyone’s murkiest nightmares.

It was safe to say he wasn’t having a good day.

“Patrick,” Joe tried, almost surprised at how desperately tired his voice was. “‘trick-”Patrick growled, eyes a piercing yellow. The noise sent quivers of fear rocketing to Joe’s very cores.“Patrick,” Joe repeated, hands weakly tightening into loose fists by his sides, “Patrick, c’ mon. Do you really want to hurt me?”

The two were locked in a silent battle of stares for several seconds, before the formal vocalist opened his mouth. “Yes.”

And that one word sent jolts of panic over ever nerve in Joe’ body.

Patrick’s voice was horribly distorted, cold and laced with a cutting snarl, and it was a horrible grating contrast to his normal soft, charming voice, and it contained so much hate, and every ounce of sense in Joe’s body screamed run, run, run, but he stayed where he was, muscles tensed, feet firmly on the ground.

“Why?”

The yellow-eyed man barked out a laugh, lips curling horribly. “Because you’re one of those deluded creatures who believes in music. As if it’s some faith you want to defend. Music is NOTHING.” His eyes narrowed threateningly. “YOU are nothing.”Joe gulped. “W-What do you want then?”Patrick blinked. “Glory.”

Joe choked at the response. “Glory? This is your idea of glory?!” Immediately, he knew that was the wrong response, as Patrick growled louder, hook raised up threateningly, but he remained as resilient as his terror would let him.Patrick’s lips curled again, sharper this time. “A place in hell is the ultimate glory. Won’t you agree?”

Silence.

“I’m surprised.” Patrick held up his hook again. “You should have an opinion. Because that’s where yoou’re going.”

He lunged over the table, and slashed forward with his hook.

I had a whole thing typed for this, but then my phone died :( I still remember most of it though!

———————————

“Just enough to feed?”

“Yeah. Yeah, just enough.”

Pete, being a vampire, had cravings.

Of course, he’d never really wanted blood. The mixture Patrick had worked up for him had been just fine to satisfy any needs he’d ever had.

Most people weren’t really that keen on offering blood. They didn’t want blood coming out from punctures on their necks. Who knew?

Being turned against his will made Pete knew just how important someone’s permission was. So, he made do just fine with the blend he made in the hunters’ apartment.

But lately, it just hadn’t seemed… enough.

He’d had blood a handful of times before using the blend. And he found himself almost missing it. The blend was satisfying, but Pete couldn’t find himself to be completely full by it.

He wanted blood.

There was the aforementioned problem of no one offering it, though, so Pete thought he could just stave it off.

But the pangs of blood thirst were too much for hime, one thing lead to another, which presented the scene currently in front of him.

Patrick, against a wall, blood trickling down his neck, eyes wide and pupils blown, barely illuminated from the streetlights outside the apartment.

“Peeete…” the hunter whined, letting his head fall back against the wall, just exposing his neck further to the vampire. The movement caused the blood pooling at his collarbones to slide further down, down his chest-

Pete groaned, bunching up Patrick’s shirt in his hands. His fangs and tongue were still red from the younger man’s blood, And yes, he had his fill of blood, but now he was hungering for something else.

“Want more,” he murmured in the crook of Patrick’s neck.

A beat of silence, two beats of silence. “Yeah. Y-Yeah, me too.’

And that’s all it took.

With a growl that turned Patrick on probably more than it should have, Pete immediately connected their hips, beginning to frantically rut against him. He leaned his head up, lapping at the blood oozing from the younger man’s neck, and through the wall of haze in his mind, Patrick found himself wondering how Pete even had any blood left to drink when so much of it was heading south.

Pete gripped onto Patrick on the curve just above his hips as he continued to frot against him.

And the noises Patrick made sounded almost as good as his blood tasted.

“Pete! Pete, fuck, f- oh, ah, ah, unnhhh, Peeeeete, fuck…”

His sounds spurred Pete on, who rutted down harder. The friction from their jeans was killer, and Pete knew the feeling was making Patrick weaker at the knees by the second. His hands frantically scrabbled at the vampires shoulders, as each new movement drew more moans and whines and huffs from him.

After a few minutes of this, Patrick began to tense up, and the older man knew what was coming.

“Pete, I-”

“I know,” he hushed. “I know.”

He began rutting harder against the vampire, using one of his knees to separate his legs more. Two movements, three, and Patrick let out a breathy whine, hands sliding from Pete’s shoulders.

Pete could feel his own orgasm stretching out in tendrils from his hips all the way to his chest how. He began rutting against Patrick harder, picking up the pace.

Beginning to get sensitive from the friction on his hips, Patrick was just beginning to squirm from the friction. “Unnnhh, Peeeete-”

And with that moan, the coils of lust building up in Pete’s gut straightened out, and he let his orgasm wash over him.

Patrick looked up at him with wide blue eyes, colour barely distinguishable in the near total darkness. “You-You just made me c-c-come in my pants like-like I’m a teenager.”

Virge I am irredeemably in ur debt... Thank...

Patrick looked out to the shores, letting the waves sweep over his bare feet. Frustration coiled in his gut as his eyes narrowed, lashes fragmenting bits of sunlight into little drops into his vision.Crossing his arms, he huffed, kicking at the sludgy sand underfoot crossly.

He almost didn’t notice when Pete came up behind him, barely moving when the older man placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Any luck?” Pete asked softly. His voice was full of sympathy, but his eyes shone with amusement.“uoy kcuF!” Patrick warbled, eyes flashing. His shoulders slumped miserably, as did his head, gaze fixated on the silvery foam swept forward by the crystal waves. In his hands, he held the shiny lilac fortune crystal that had caused this thing in the first place.

“Okay, okay, let’s think this through,” Pete tried, frowning slightly. You misread the sign and tapped the glass when you weren’t supposed to. Yes?”“seY.”“And you’ve tried, like, un-tapping it, and leaving it alone, and speaking backwards - uh, normally I suppose - and none of it has worked?”“seY.”“So you’re a fucking idiot.”“!eteP -seY”

Pete wrapped Patrick in an embrace, feeling the weariness lingering over the younger man’s bones drift away a little. He knew carrying around that probably cursed ass crystal ball was a terrible idea, and yet, here they were, cause no one in this band listened to each other.He blinked as a tremble worked it’s way through Patrick’s small body, revealing just how scared he was about the situation. He held him tighter, burrowing his face in the crook of Patrick’s neck, inhaling his scent softly and leaning into his warmth.Then, he pulled back.

Patrick whined softly at the loss, tilting his head in question when Pete stepped back, spreading his arms slightly.

“Dance with me.”

Patrick blinked, the soft orange rays of the rising sun contrasting the faint blush in his cheeks. “?tahW”“Dance with me!” Pete repeated, eyes bright. He took one of Patrick’s hands tentatively, lacing their fingers together. “You’re too stressed, Pattycakes.”Patrick shot him a sour look. “?yhw rednow I”Pete’s eyes softened, and he lowered his voice to a soothing tone. “I know you’re confused and afraid, Trick. But there isn’t much you can do about it. Just... enjoy the sunshine, hm?” He held up his arms, invitingly.

Patrick stared at him for a bit, before biting his lip nervously and fitting into a dance position with Pete. “.yakO”Pete smiled wider, laughing a little when the tide rushed up to meet their legs. In the rising sun’s illumination, the water churned and sparkled with flecks of gold.

The two began to move. Clumsily and uncoordinated at first, but eventually they slid into each others’ harmonies.And Patrick’s worries dimmed. Didn’t magically flutter away, but the movements distorted his concerns like their legs rippled the reflections in the water beneath them.

The two danced, danced in the sunshine riptide, under the morning light.

Ily2 anon :D

17. “Stop it! It tickles!”

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Patrick flopped down onto the couch of the tour bus. The show they’d just had was really energetic - flashing lights, a screaming crowd, and a high intensity setlist.

Patrick had put his all into that concert, going across the stage, and pitching his voice to levels that were hardly tame.

They still had a few hours before they needed to leave, so the vocalist had chosen to return to the buses to rest in a familiar place for a bit. He let out a deep breath, closing his eyes and laying his hands over his stomach. He just wanted peace for a while.

“Patrick!”

Never mind.

Pete walked onto the bus, running a hand through his hair. Patrick watched him through a cracked open eye, but even with his limited scope of vision, he could see there was a spark of something in the older man’s eyes.

“Pete,” he replied softly. “Aren’t you tired?”

The bassist shrugged, sittin at the chair on the nearby table. “Not really.” He sat there for only a few more seconds before standing up again, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Patrick, we’re gonna be in this bus for hours on end again anyway. Come outside with us! You can relax there!”

Patrick frowned, crossing his arms. “But it’s so comfortable here.”

“C’mon, Tricky,” Pete urged. He knelt, poking Patrick’s cheek. “Patrickkk.”

“Pete, stop.” The younger man didn’t actually mean it, and Pete could see it in the way he leaned towards the touch.

Pete poked his rib. “Come on!”

That got a reaction from him.

The singer yelped and tensed up ever so slightly, casting a frown at the older man. “Pete!”

“What?” Pete asked innocently, briefly tickling Patrick in the curve below his ribs and above his hips.

Patrick slapped his hand away. “Stop it! It tickles!”

Pete let a smile stretch his mouth, eyes now flashing with a hint of evil.

That flash did not go unnoticed by Patrick. “Oh. Pete-”

That’s all he was able to say before Pete had him pinned down, one leg wedged between him and the backrest of the couch, and the other extended to the floor to pin him down. He pushed his hands under Patrick’s shirt, and began to tickle him.

“Pete-Pete! No!!” Patrick yelped, tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes as he tried to flail around and unseat him. “This isn’t fair!”

Pete grinned, relishing the younger man’s helpless laughs. “Tell me you’ll come outside with us, and I’ll stop.”

“Peeeeeeete!” Patrick squealed, writhing helplessly under him.

This charade carried on for maybe half a minute, maximum, before Patrick finally cried out, “Alri-hi-hi-hight! I’ll come with you!”

Pete beamed, eyes twinkling. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

I’m gonna bring back my 16 candles au for this!

———————————

10. Righteous

Pete just stared with concern at the weak boy in front of him.Patrick was sipping some water from a cup, eyes trained downwards as he gripped it with both hands like a child.Some selfish part of Pete felt proud - He’d rescued someone who escaped from William. He’d done a good thing. He deserved to be proud about it.But looking at the boy in front of him, he just couldn’t get himself to feel as righteous about it as he could have been.“You can sleep in my room tonight,” Pete spoke softly, as not to startle Patrick. “My bed’s soft, and I’ve got dark curtains so the sun won’t disturb you in the morning. If you need anything, you can just call out to me, okay?”Patrick looked up, locking his soft blue eyes with Pete’s dark amber ones. For a few moments, he just stared, not saying anything.Pete shifted slightly. He knew the boy was just nervous, untrusting, and he had to give him time, be careful not to rush h-“Thank you.” And his soft voice was audible again, accomanied by a tiny, half smile.Pete grinned in return, careful to hide his fangs to not intimidate him, and okay, maybe the spark he felt in his heart was just a little bit of pride. “It’s no problem at all, kid.”

16. In dreams

“Rise and shine, Patrick,” Andy deadpanned as he gently shook awake the half-asleep vocalist. “We need to leave soon.”“Hhmmmm?” Patrick made a tired, questioning sound. Sound still wasn’t properly reaching his mind, and even his vague mumbles took a lot of energy. “Fuck off, Hurley, was havin’ ‘n amazing dream…”The blankets were ripped off him a second later.“Joe!” Patrick cried as the coldness of the room rushed over him, wiithout him evenhaving to look at the guitarist, who was standing at the foot of his bed with a cheeky grin.“C’mon, Patrick,” he said, tone light. “Have the rest of your wet dream tonight, we have somewhere to go now.”Patrick’s cheeks burned as Joe’s words registered.Tangled sheets. Hot breaths. Whimpers and whines and moans and gasps.A dream that left the vocalist squirming under his blankets as heat pooled in his belly.“Joe…” Patrick mumbled, cheeks pink.Joe smiled, ruffling his hair. “C’mon now. Try not to let your problem distract you.”

36: Total control

“You were with Pete?”Brendon flinched at William’s sharp tone. “He-He was just-”“Just what?” William hissed, circling the 16-year-old boy slowly as he glared at him with scrutinising eyes. “If you ever want to become a Dandy, Brendon, I highly suggest you stop trailing after Wentz like a pathetic puppy dog.”The younger boy gulped, eyes flitting to the ground. “Y-Yes, William.”The head of the Dandies strutted in front of Brendon, tilting his chin up and staring coldly into his scared eyes. “You want to become a Dandy, Brendon, you listen to what the fuck I say. Understood?”Brendon stiffened, panic clawing at his lungs as his breath hitched. “I unders-s-stand.”William straightened up. “Don’t you ever let me see you with him again.” And with those words, he walked out of the room, movements heavy, yet poised.Brendon slumped against a wall, lower lip trembling as he shut his eyes. He just couldn’t give William the control over him that the leader demanded.It’s okay.You’re okay.

One of his eyes were shut, white drips staining his long eyelashes and the glasses just over them, and the other one looked up through them, wide, dark, full of need. His flushed pink cheeks were a stark difference to his normal, almost porcelain-pale skin.

“Did I do good?” The question came out as a half whine, Patrick’s voice wrecked from the dick down his throat. He looked up hopefully, soft lower lip caught between his teeth nervously.

“You did so good, you did so well, baby,” Joe crooned, rubbing circles into Patrick’s flushed cheek. Small trails of pleasure were still flipping through his lower belly, and his breathing was still coming down. “So good, so perfect for me…”