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gojology · 4 years ago

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Clubs Aren’t My Thing. (2/2) (18+)

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 | woooo, part 2 ! as stated previously, this is heavily inspired by @/mystic-sky on tumblr or skyfelt on ao3. amazing writer, check her out (but this isn’t a direct copy, just same storyline in a way). i’m cleaning up my writing a lot, i think. maybe im getting better as well? probably not but uh i kinda gave up at the end and uh.. hope u enjoy.

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | Voyeurism To Some Degree, Teasing, Ripped Tights, I didn’t proof read. 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Dom! Gojo x Sub! Female Reader

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 4561

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | In which you finally get fucked by this mysterious, yet freakishly handsome stranger. That’s it, you just get fucked.

The first thing you realize is how cold it is. The wind is working against you, it seems, as you take your first step out of the warm building. Hair blows in every direction, you button up your cardigan, your breath coming out in puffs of smoke. Shivers went down your spine. Not too far behind you, the mysterious man that you had met just an hour ago trailed behind, winking and waving at the girls confidently using him as eye-candy. Long strides, hands shoved into his pockets. Your heart swells as you watch other woman stare flirtatiously as he gestured back at them, before their eyes set on you. He followed you like a duckling, and you’re sure to relish in how powerful it made you feel. He walked like a model, with so much confidence. He didn’t appear as cold, his cheeks were flush and he reeked of fruity sugary alcohol, a playful grin still stubbornly on his face, 5 minutes later. “Uber should be coming soon... I think, too lazy to check. You cold?” he slurred huskily. You nod. For a one night stand, he was strangely kind to you. He doesn’t say anything after that, so you opt to listen to the life around you. The clicking of high heels, the chatter, the drunken rants. “Aw, come here.” He didn’t give you much of a choice, though. Pulling you in to his chest, without warning. Your first instinct is to scream bloody murder, but he’s so warm, and you definitely need it. One loose arm over your figure, his unoccupied arm dangled dangerously close to your butt. Taking in a deep breath, anticipating the feeling of being so scandalous in public, he chuckles breathily, almost like a taunt. You can feel the rumble in his chest as he cleared his throat. You stare up at him, confused as to why you’re not feeling anything in your lower regions, before you realize what he was doing. Rubbing your head with the once unoccupied hand, his fingers weaved into your hair as he sniffled. Something about the interaction was strangely intimate, but you don’t dare to say a word. You inhale sharply, rubbing your face into his chest. You want to get closer, deep in bliss as he seemed to return the want back. You want to close any remaining space between the two of you, but making the first move was scary. He yawns, and this triggers you to yawn as well. It was probably well past 1 AM by now, and you were tired. You couldn’t hear much around you other then the honk of the growing sea of cars, some people just starting their night, and the others ending it. “Oh shit. Our Uber’s here.” he mutters under his breath, pushing you out of his chest gently. Whining, you try to push yourself back into his arms, he takes a quick glance down at you, traces of a faint lukewarm smile playing upon his lips. Almost like he’s saying, “Are you kidding me right now?” before taking a hold of your hand. Fingers intertwining as if they were meant to be together, you gawk down at your hands, before looking back up at him. There were a few issues, one, you had no idea if this man had an intent to kidnap you. Second, you didn’t know what the Uber looked like, and you’re too embarrassed to ask. Third, he was holding your hand with no hesitation, and the feeling in your chest was indescribable. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, but you hope that it’s something along the lines of what you’re thinking. Your eyes briefly flickering over his jawline as you pondered to yourself, but what you do know is that you’re being dragged towards the presumed Uber. It’s sleek, and black, with a glossy finish, you note. “Yo chill, I’m not gonna kidnap you, missy.” chuckling, examining your doubtful, yet frightened expression. He swung open the car door carelessly. “After you, m’lady.” he adds, bowing and straightening, his chin up. “Thank you, Sir Mysterious.” you give him a small smile before sliding into the sleek, comfortable seats. His eyebrow raised, he looked at you. “That’s a first.” “It’s also a shit nickname, maybe that’s why you’ve never heard it.” you suggested. “I like it. Has a nice ring to it.” a lukewarm smile played at his glossy lips. The sly smile wipes clean off your face, he laughs at you while sliding into his designated seat, as if he owned the car. Right. You were in a car, and it would be best for you to study your surroundings, just to make sure you weren’t being kidnapped. The car was obviously expensive, black leather reclining seats, and a sweet offering of warmth against the chill of the midnight air. A coffee cup idly stood in the cup holder, the driver taking a quick sip and turning his body to look at you two. Air fresheners and various trinkets dangled from the rear-view mirror, swinging back and forth “A couple, eh? You wanna go to this address?” The driver whipped his phone out, an address in black, bold text stood out. “Yep.” the man says confidently. Opening your mouth to speak, you try to inform the driver that he wasn’t your boyfriend, before your supposed boyfriend covers your mouth with his hand as soon as the driver repositioned towards the steering wheel. You realize that his other hand is on your thigh, stroking your skin. This newfound position was at the very least, terrifying. There was another person in the vehicle, for starters, and you weren’t exactly the quiet type when it came to, well, anything in general. Cold, large calloused hands considerately caressed your thigh, and your breathing hitches. His other arm against his side, but you know his fingers are itching to feel you all over. You want to moan, but the driver’s presence is enough to tell you that it would be stupid. Fingers drawing shapes, words, anything would repeatedly loop on the sensitive skin just barely. He was definitely teasing you, but you couldn’t quite fight back. “Why don’t you be a good girl and stay quiet for me?” he whispers, you anticipate the driver to look back at the two of you, and to throw both of you off the car, but he does no such thing. Feebly, you raise your arm up, ignoring the flirtatious request. Swatting his hand away in a desperate attempt to get him to stop before it got out of hand, but he’s persistent. It’s getting even more difficult to breathe quietly now, your body getting hotter and hotter and hotter. It doesn’t take long for a noise to slip out from your lips that you can’t quite shut up, and the driver turns to look at you. “So precious.” the white haired man mouths to you before quickly turning his head to look at the window, humming to himself, still caressing your thigh. “Ma’am? Are you okay?” About to respond, the white haired man scooched closer to you. His clothed leg now rubbing your bare skin. He whistles innocently in the opposite direction before skimming his hand against your inner thigh, and you almost shriek. Instead, you let out a pathetic gasp. Panning his gaze over to you, he gives you a sly, playful smirk, before looking away again. Drawing more shapes onto your skin, he hums. It was so hard to focus, or even remember the words the driver had said literally just a minute ago. You feel yourself shiver, almost losing yourself entirely to his hands before shakily responding to the driver, praying to any divine figure in the skies that you would be coherent. “Y-yeah. Just, spilled water on m-my clothes.” you reply, barely audible. The driver’s eyes stared back at yours, concern etched onto his features, before sighing. Tension grew inside of you. “Alright, if you need anything, just ask, okay ma’am?” Trying to respond, no sound comes out of your mouth, and the reason dawns on you. Taking a quick look down, the man’s digits were now fumbling with your panties, brushing against your wetness. It takes a moment for you to register in your brain, you thank every entity possible for preventing the inevitable slew of noises you’d make. Waves of need crashing over your body. You hungrily stare at him, hoping that he’d be kind enough to stop and save it for later. Circling your entrance through the now utterly soaked panties, he dips his finger in, just enough so you could feel the slight pressure against your sensitive skin. He’s fucking taunting you again. Driver be damned, you needed him. Opening your legs more, you confidently peer at him, inviting him to explore your body even more. His fingers are drumming against the leather surface, the other hand had retreated back to your thigh, boldly looking at you back. “No. I thought you didn’t want to, what’s with the change of thought?” he mouths, stifling a chuckle and a smug tone, already knowing what you were going to ask. Bewildered, you gape at him before shaking your head curtly, making sure you’re staring daggers at his stupidly arrogant face. “Stop fucking playing with me then!” “You’re too cute.” “Fine then.” closing your legs, you stare out the window, your chin sitting on the palm of your hand. Flickering blurry lights passing by quickly. Looking at your reflection, you steal a quick glance at the flirtatious bastard. “If you’re so angry, why can’t you look away from me for 1 second?” he whispers proudly. You can’t think of a snarky remark, so you huff and look back at the window defeatedly. What a cocky arrogant little- Your bruised pride burning into ashes, you grunt in response before the car abruptly halts to its stop. Were you two too loud? “What are you two so scared for? Freezing up like a deer in headlights, we’re at your destination.” the driver said, twisting his head around, his eyebrow slightly raised. “Oh, yeah, thanks.” That was way too close to comfort, and you’re resisting the urge of banging on his chest for being so overly confident in his endeavors. You open the car door, cursing under your breath, swinging your legs out and lightly stepping out. First thing you realize in the new destination? This guy was obviously loaded. In front of you were a bunch of condos, and it was bound to cost a lot. Modern architecture was all you could see, wide windows and balconies in every corner. Suddenly, you’re self conscious about your outfit, were you too poorly dressed? The man hums, placing his hand on your shoulder. Plant life was meticulously placed in such a beautiful manner that you promise yourself that you would search up his name- if you ever got it, on the Forbes lists. “Like what you see?” Snapping out of it, you look back at him, and you nod, still astounded by his presumed riches. “Yeah? Lets go up missy, I got more to show, in more ways then one.” ‧₊˚✩彡. Standing in front of his door, you realize how quiet and still the atmosphere is. He fumbles with his keys, muttering to himself, and you can’t help but wonder if you’re about to have sex with some celebrity. Not knowing how to start conversation, you clear your throat. “You ever going to tell me your name?” “Aw, the little baby still wants my name.” he cooed “Call me Gojo.” he adds nonchalantly. “(Y/N).” you reply, ecstatic. That wasn’t too hard, but you wonder why he didn’t just give up his name to you at the club earlier. Perhaps he didn’t think he was going to take you back? “Aw, sugar. You scared?” Gojo says, looking you up and down. Well, that’s what you assumed. He still had his glasses on. “No I’m not, who said that?” “Look at your legs, missy.” he cheekily replies. Looking down, you realize you’re violently shaking, and you didn’t even realize it. “...Maybe.” you say coyly. He breathily chuckles, finally opening the door with the right key. You’re surprised by the presence of such a spotless place, a large, plush black leather couch was in one corner, the other, an island. Amazingly large windows replaced what would usually be the walls, and you could see the extent of the city life from where you’re standing. “Slip your shoes off girly, sandals on the left. Can I offer you something?” Gojo questions you, walking over to the island. “...I’m not much of a drinker.” you reply, still standing in the doorway. You were honestly more interested in him then the small talk. “Baby, sit down. Don’t you wanna see me up close?” he pats the cushioned island seats, and you sheepishly walk over. “I have apple juice too. If that’s more your vibe.” you watched him swirl some melting ice cubes around in a glass of water with a spoon. “I’m not 12.” you retort, maybe the guy wasn’t a celebrity. No famous guy has apple juice in the fridge, rather then fancy champagne and wine. Gojo snickers, “Hey, I’m not 12 either, I’m nearing my fucking 30′s but I can never reject a good box of apple juice, plus, I teach a group of kiddos that drink this shit like it’s fine wine.” You pause, this guy was NEAR 30? He certainly didn’t look the age, and second of all, he bought apple juice just for the kids he taught? That was surprisingly sweet, but that didn’t explain the richness. “You’re a teacher?” you nod as he hands you a chilled box of apple juice. “Uh, yeah.” he scratches the back of his neck. “International Japanese teacher, sometimes I just teach in Japan as well. It pays good.” “No way you actually live here. Is this your friends place?” He laughs loudly, “So backhanded, and sassy! Nah, this is my place. As I said, job pays well. Feel free to stop by for a good fucking.” he says whilst pouring liquor into his glass cup. “You’re really confident in your abilities of fucking people.” you sarcastically note aloud as he slides into the comfortable tall stool next to you, drink in hand. “Hm, you weren’t saying that when I was touching you in that car, brat. How strange.” sipping his beverage lightly. Your mouth zipped shut, and he laughs again. “Aw, don’t go all awkward on me.” his once vacant hand now rubbing your shoulder. Setting down his drink, taking off his glasses. He doesn’t give you much time to admire his eyes, but what you can see is an almost aquamarine color, flecks of darker blue sprinkled throughout. So brilliantly colored it didn’t look real. Before you realize it, he leans closer into your neck, suckling your skin and lightly nibbling. His breath fanning over your delicate skin, you can’t even hold back, gasping a little as his hands played with the hem of your cardigan, tugging at it playfully. You can’t even formulate words. He was undeniably good, his suckling now gradually getting more harsher and harsher, and you dread coming back to your friends place, neck full of hickeys, you’d be nudged for whoever did that to you for the rest of your life. He grunts, standing up in the little space between what was his stool and yours, even on such a surprisingly tall stool he still towered over you. He has to slightly crouch before his eyes is at the level of your neck, hungrily crashing back down. “G-Gojo!” you squeaked, struggling to do much of anything. You’re limp on the stool, slumped and burning up. Your skin was ridiculously hot. “Hmmm?” he smiles into your neck, pausing momentarily, you can feel him exhale harshly on your skin. You look him up and down, the sexual tension between the two of you was prominent, and so was the tent in his pants. You feel a whine creep up towards your throat, now realizing just how wet you are. Ignoring this, you gesture to your clothes. The layers were sticking to you, and you never wanted anything more then to just get the sex started. “...Hot.” is all you can muster pathetically. “What was, baby?” he coos at you. “Me.” shrugging off your cardigan the best you can, you let out a subtle whine, the weird feeling growing between your legs. “Yes, we both know you’re hot.” tipping your chin upwards to look at him, he smiles. “use your words.” “Clothes.. Off.” you pant, obviously sick and tired of the stupid sexual tension and the teasing. “Full sentence, girly.” he repeats, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You inhale his scent, smelling of expensive cologne and lingering sickeningly sweet alcohol. Looking up at him, but averting your gaze as soon as you saw those incredible eyes once again. “Look at me.” he orders. You peer up at him, swallowing. “P-please, take my clothes off.” you say politely. “All it took was a few hickeys? You really are a pretty kitty.” he smiles, kissing your forehead. “Get down.” You nod obediently, getting off the stool and looking back up at him, anticipating his next step. He bends down, swooping you up bridal style. One arm under your legs, gripped firmly onto the skin, the other under your waist. Your arms instinctively and rather slackly around his shoulders. You expect something, a kiss, anything, but all Gojo does is walk down an endless hallway full of doors. You lean closer into him while pouting, hoping that’ll catch his attention, but he doesn’t say a word. “Where are we going?” you finally ask, growing needy. “Bedroom. I’m not fucking on the couch. Pretty princesses deserve to be nice and comfy.” he replies back, fidgeting with the door knob. For a few seconds, all you can hear is how rapidly your heart is beating inside your chest, the rustling of clothes brushing against one another, and then the feeling sets in again. You could very well be fucking someone that was out of your league. He breathes a sigh of relief, and before you have the time to fully study his bedroom, he throws you off of the bed with a grunt. Gojo’s toned forearms by your side, you were obviously trapped. You can see his chain just dangle barely swing back and forth on the tip of your nose, his lips curled into a lukewarm smile. “You were so cheeky with me earlier, where’d she go?” stroking the corner of your lips. He doesn’t give you the time to respond, instead locking lips with you and rolling over to be on your side. It starts off small and soft first, but it gradually grew hot. The fluttering in your chest only intensified. Tongues exploring every inch of one another’s mouth, you swear you can taste mint. The anxiety melted off of you like wax, and the only thing he could focus on was how soft you felt against his lips. Delightfully experienced enough for it to be good, but not better then him. The smell of him was stronger now, and you’re sure you won’t be able to leave without some of it remaining on your clothes. Regardless, it was an addicting smell. Something you needed to come back to. Furiously exhaling through both of your noses, he finally lets go. Dazed, your whole body tingles. You want him to claim you all as your own, hungrily staring at him for more. Both of you were radiating heat. The kissing left little for thought, and all you can think about is kissing him once again. It seemed that the more you spent with him, the more demand you had for his attention. “Such cute noises. Makes me want to ravish you more.” Gojo tenderly pulls you in, claiming your mouth as his once again. Fumbling with your cardigan, yanking it off of your body. Large, hot hands brushing against your now semi-exposed skin, and you know he wants more. His hands brushed against your butt under your skirt, and you shiver just a bit. Pulling out from the kiss, he looks at you, panting heavily. “So beautiful.” he murmurs, brushing his thumb against your swollen lips. “You wanna know why they call me the best?” You nod, his arm snakes above your waist, forcefully flipping you down head first into the blankets. Just now realizing that all your clothes are no where to be found, presumably on the floor, you shiver at the cold air conditioner blowing against you. That is, besides your skirts and your tights. “On your arms, baby. Knees too.” he instructs, patting your butt. You obey, a warmth rushing to your cheeks again. He had you like a dog being trained by it’s owner, following their every order. “Good girl.” he says under his breath. You’re about to tell him that you’re still wearing tights, about to open your mouth, you heard a loud rip disturb the peaceful atmosphere, and a cold exposure to your lower regions. You squeal, digging your face into the covers, and he chuckles again. “Oh baby. You were begging for this, I can see why now.” you felt him drag his fingers against your panties, and you whimper. “So impatient for my touch, aren’t you kitty? You’ll have to wait.” About to complain, you look back at him before you find him shoving you down, sitting on your knees now, your nipples hardened in the air, but you want to be stimulated else where. “Be patient, and you’ll be rewarded, no complaining.” “But-” he cuts you off. “Don’t fucking talk over me, you got that?” “...Yes sir.” His eyes soften, and he gives you a soft kiss on the forehead before his hands brushed against your nipples, rubbing them with his thumb. Rolling the sensitive bud, you loudly moan, trying to express that you wanted more. “God, you’re so cute.” he says under his breath, still rubbing and now slightly pulling them. Placing his mouth upon the abused buds, you stifle a cry out. Gently suckling, he used his other hand to play with the other attention-starved nipple mildly. You whine out again, beginning to melt under his stupidly experienced hands and mouth. The attention was nice, but you needed it some place else, his eyes looked up at you, his wet mouth still suckling your breast. Taking his wet mouth off your nipple, he looked at you, mischief still evident on his face. “You like that?” he says, cocking his head to his side. “I-If I say anything, It’ll fill your stupid ego.” you breathed. “And if you don’t say anything I’m not doing shit.” his hand now rubbing your butt. “You ripped my tights!” you spat back. “I’ll pay for it and more, no bother babygirl. Now tell me what I want to hear.” He obviously wasn’t lying, he could probably turn any girl into putty if he just wanted to, and here you were, in the palm of his hand. “...Please touch me more.” you uttered shamelessly. “Good girl. On your back, spread those pretty little legs for me too, why don’t you?” Lying down on the plush mattress and warm pillows, you stare at the ceilings. You peered at him starting where he left off. Giving you faint, yet chaste kisses on your breasts, trailing kisses down your stomach. “Aw, your panties are absolutely fucking soaked baby, how cute.” he cooed, parting the soaked fabric to the side. You look at him undress thoughtlessly, but you’re sure he’s done this several times. He did it with little to no effort, but that would mean that you’re not special. It would be useless to think about right now, you were gonna have the dicking of your lifetime anyway, it was called a one night-stand for a reason. The mountain of clothes grew taller. Growing impatient, you look up to where he was once standing, only to find him already in between your legs. “So pretty.” Gojo purred, circling your entrance just as he had done previously in the car ride, you squeak. “So lucky this is all mine.” Gojo had figured he could add, “for the night.” but that strangely felt wrong. He dips his fingers into your walls, and you cry out. Wrapping around his digits, sobbing, this wasn’t enough to satisfy your cravings. “You want more?” he huskily said, a tone of playfulness still rampant. “Yes! Please, just fuck me!” you croaked, already damn near about to cum from the teasing. “That’s my girl.” he whispered under his breath, slipping off boxers you didn’t even realize were there in the first place. He doesn’t give you a chance to see his full length, instead ramming inside of you. You inhale sharply at the sudden disruption. The throbbing evaporated into thin air, and you’re desperately grabbing at the sheets to steady yourself. Sweaty and sticky skin slapping against each other echoed throughout the room, along with your moans and his grunts. You could feel him reaching heights that you would never be able to do with the dildos you had at your house, much less your fingers. One hand on your waist to steady your flailing body, the other, roughly groping your breast. You were finding it hard to think, pleasure and euphoria filling your senses. Unknowingly, you wrap yourself around Gojo even harder then before. “Fuck, baby, I can barely pull out.” he panted. “you’re too tight.” You can’t even begin to respond, still deep in your state of pleasure, instead responding incoherently with a jumble of delicate moans and gasps in between. “C-cum!” “Hm? Repeat that princess?” he soothed. You’re unable to respond again, instead you try to lift your head up, and Gojo feels himself throb again, watching your eyes flutter back. It’s not until it’s too late, realizing a hot fluid flow down your holes. He pulls out, he himself ejaculating on your stomach. Both muscles stretched taut, you both laid on the bedsheets, sweating and panting. “Fuck, I haven’t had a girl like you in a while.” he says, turning his head to look at you. Strands of hair stuck to your forehead. “R-Really?” he kissed your forehead, tipping your chin with his long fingers. “Yes, really. I’m so lucky I spotted such a pretty little thing at a club.” The sun was starting to rise, you note, and you realize just how perfect his body is with the new light. A sudden warmth on your cheeks, you look down, still panting. “Clubs aren’t my thing.” you said breathlessly. “Fuck. It’s 5 AM” he says, eyes now glued to his phone, ruffling his white hair. “I’ll go-” “No, here, lets take a shower with each other, and then we sleep.” “Okay.” you responded, hoping to not make conversation, still believing that he was a celebrity. He handed you his phone, rubbing the back of his neck. “Can I get your number?” “...Why?” you questioned. “...To call you back again, duh.” he teases, rubbing your head. No way, he wanted you back at his house? You? Not wanting to fuck up your chances, you nod, something was growing inside of you, and you weren’t quite sure what it was, but you knew he made you feel special.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut #jjk headcanons #gojou satoru #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #dom gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojou x you #fanfic #fic #anime fic #im learning how to write well ok

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darlington-v · 4 years ago

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oh my god

enderboo really is just fucking ranboo. oh my god moss's ask made me want to work more on that drabble, and i started writing it differently than the way i had written him before because i had envisioned enderboo as obviously more alert and aware because i thought for a while that he had all his memories before it was confirmed.

however the issue i had was imagining how this transition would work and what causes him to forget and how the switch happens.

and maybe i'm late to the party, because i've always known it shouldn't be a solid switch but i didn't know how exactly???

however i don't think its a sudden shift!!!

i think ranboo doesn't like SUDDENLY get all his memories back and knows he has shifted states

i think they may just???? creep in?? which is why the "enderwalk state" has tried to put in safe guards for himself, because he knows he's forgetting shit because he can remember the actions he's made and his line of thinking.

but the issue is that when he forgets... he forgets!! he didn't know he put those safeguards in place.

IDK

I FEEL LIKE WHEN I SAY THIS LIKE. IT SOUNDS LIKE OH YEAH SHOULDN'T YOU HAVE ALREADY KNOWN THAT

AND I PROBABLY SHOULD

BUT LIKE.... UNDERSTANDING IT AS RANBOO WILL HAVE POINTS IN TIME WHERE HIS MEMORIES SMOOTHLY JUST COME BACK, RATHER THAN A SUDDEN SWITCH, MAKES A LOT MORE SENSE TO ME

RATHER THAN LIKE STILL FRAMING IT AS TWO DIFFERENT MINDFRAMES

BECAUSE IT'S REALLY NOT EVEN THAT!!!!

I FEEL SO STUPID AHSFKJHDSKFJASD

for clarity, i used to write that ranboo would lose consciousness before entering the enderwalk state, because i feel like it was at one point FRAMED that he would lose consciousness.

HOWEVER. I THINK THE FRAMING WAS A RED HERRING.

I THINK HE DOESN'T ACTUALLY LOSE CONSCIOUSNESS AT ALL, RANBOO CUTS STREAM BECAUSE THATS IT-- END SCENE THAT'S ALL THE AUDIENCE GETS TO SEE. AND FRAMING IT AS LOSING CONSCIOUSNESS CAN THROW US FURTHER OFF OUR TRAIL.

I REALLY THINK INSTEAD OF LOSING CONSCIOUSNESS, HE ENTERS ANOTHER LEVEL OF AWARENESS WHERE HE REMEMBERS EVERYTHING. WHERE HE FINALLY HAS ACCESS TO HIS MEMORIES.

IT CAN EXPLAIN WHY IT HAPPENS WHEN HE GETS SO SCARED AND WHEN HE GETS HURT.

IT'S LIKE BEING SCARED AWAKE!!! THE ENDERWALK ISN'T THE RANBOO OFF STREAM, IT'S THE RANBOO ON STREAM.

AND I THINK WE'VE ALL KNOWN THAT BUT IDK IT'S MAKING A LOT MORE SENSE TO ME NOW.

LIKE IF THE ENDERWALK IS RANBOO IN A FORM OF SLEEP, THEN IT WOULD MAKE SENSE WHY HE ENTERS THE DIFFERENT STATE WHEN HE IS HURT OR BADLY STARTLED!!!!!

OH MY GOD!!!!

OH MY GOD.

additional things that i just dont feel like formatting coherently:

i think ranboo just gains access to his memories, theres not a real like solid line whenever he gets them back. he just has access to them again, it's not a solid switch. it's just oh right. and then eventually he forgets once more. i think there are plenty of things ranboo on screen actually does on some instinctual level rather than knowing why. the reason why is locked behind some form of mental block.

if any of that makes sense i cannot really explain it well at all and i feel like im not doing a good job at it.

TLDR;

i think the transition between enderwalk is a lot more smooth than some (like myself previously) may have envisioned it to be, and i think that the enderwalk is actually ranboo on stream while the ranboo off stream is... not that state.

(this is a baby theory post, if u wanna discuss i kinda just wanna discuss in the forms of building off of it, not in having to like defend my stance or whatever)

#ranboo #dream smp #dsmp #mcyt #dsmp analysis #dream smp analysis

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subjectsix · 4 years ago

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okay i cant promise this will be coherent but i’m going to try and elaborate on this thought i had, and this is gonna be one long rambling post that gets off topic so im throwing it under a read more, but control thoughts ahoy:

the bureau, indirectly or directly, told dylan he couldn’t change, and he believed them.

after piling on the expectations and praise and pressure and trying to shape him to be director like they wanted, telling him it was what he was meant for, they rip the rug out from under him. yes someone died, and then more people died, and he should face the consequences for his actions. and if you listen to his evaluation with carla, he sounds remorseful, panicked, like he wants to apologize or make it right, or at the very least prove himself-- he can control it now, please let him back, let him see casper again-- he didn’t mean to, he feels horrible-- he’s scared, can someone please listen?

but you can hear it, in the very same recording, that he’s decided the bureau’s given up on him. so he leans into it hard. no longer a prime candidate? now a menace, now a danger? in trouble and treated like a prisoner? okay. fine.

if that recording is post the roberts incident but pre the other deaths darling mentions, then it would be before he’s put in the P6 cell as well, but he already knows he’s a prisoner. a bigger cage with more freedoms is still a cage when he can’t leave and see the sky. he picked up on the idea that the bureau gave up on him, so he ran with it. no second chances, burn with me.

and then the hiss shows up. “i’m better now. the hiss made me better.”

never mind that its an entropic self-destructive force praying on insecurities and half truths and even truths but with wrong ideas and harmful solutions. never mind that the hiss ultimately only cares about its own goals and is all consuming of everything else, and makes you dependent, makes you feel good, makes everything sound good-- like trench says, when he was in the flow, it made perfect sense, but when he woke up, it was all nonsense. but dylan thinks he can’t change. he’s bought the lie of the people around him, bought the lie he told himself, bought the lie the hiss sold him: he can’t get better. not in the way he wanted to. but he can certainly try and live up to the terrible monster they thought he was. even if its not true. (and even if he starts to believe them).

but there’s that realization in the haze. its like hes just standing there, watching, and he can’t do anything about it. jesse, can you hear me? did i fall with them?

but there’s the hope, there’s always the hope, always, always, always: grow brighter. that the past is important to learn from, but we can’t live in it. that we have responsibility when we’re in power, but we can’t be too far removed or too overbearing. we shouldn’t manipulate or create so much paranoia and secrecy instead of communicating. but when it happens, we don’t throw it all out-- we pick ourselves back up and learn, we grow brighter.

it takes time. its not easy or clear cut. you might not find all the answers, but you know there are some, even if you don’t understand them, you know that they’re there. and you look for them, but you don’t let the obsession get you. you don’t isolate yourself. you lean on others around you. you let yourself be loved and love others even if thats uncomfortable because it’s good. you keep learning, you keep growing, you realize point a to point b looks very different every day, and that moving forward doesn’t always literally look like moving forward. you grow brighter.

anyway. there’s an essay in there about control’s themes probably. i had to yeet all that at a wall tho. i’ll flesh it out more later kesjhfksehf

#grow freakin brighter babey.#anyway.#control 2019 #coffee talks #dylan faden #and like everyone else but i didnt mention them #kip control headcanons

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be-the-spark-flyboy · 5 years ago

Text

Could Use Some Love

Call It What You Want (2/?)

Series masterlist

Pairing: Med student!Poe x Reader (college AU)

A/N: This got wayyyy out of hand, and i apologize for nothing. Also this took so long cos i came up with a plot, hated it, then changed the whole plot, hated it again and now i have no plot and im just gonna see where this takes me :( what is canon I don’t her

Chapter summary: Due a broken heater situation, you end up crashing at Rey, Finn and Poe’s residence.

Word count: ~2.7k

You’ve been having an absolutely horrible week. And it is Wednesday. Work had been piling up in your internship firm, as well as in college. You’d barely slept for a total of 3 hours in the last two days and needless to say, you were totally exhausted. You had barely gotten back from work when your supervisor had called you to dump more work on you.

Great, another sleepless night.

Your tiny apartment was eerily quiet without your roommate Jessika. She told you she was staying over at her boyfriend's place for the night. It wasn’t the first time it had happened but, you hated staying alone in your apartment, especially at night.

The snow falling outside and the temperature rapidly falling in your own house did nothing to improve your mood. You pulled you knitted blanket tighter around yourself as another shiver racked through your body from the cold. Was the heater even working? It had been giving you problems for some time now, you were pretty sure it was already working way past its expectancy. You made a mental note to talk to your landlord about it, turning your attention back to your work.

Minutes pass and it only gets colder. Now it got to the point you couldn’t put your feet on the ground without recoiling. It wasn’t a good sign at all. You reach for your fuzzy slippers and pad across the room, still in your blanket, to the thermostat.

The thermostat display was working fine, but it seemed the heater wasn’t. After several minutes of walking back and forth to the heater and thermostat and several google searches later, you come to the conclusion that your heater was broken. And there was nothing you could do about it at this hour.

Your eyes well up from the frustration, a few tears falling. You try taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself, but the cold air only stings your lungs, reminding you of your predicament, mocking you. You go back to the couch, sitting cross-legged and rocking back and forth as you mind reels.

It was too cold for you to spend the night without a working heater. It was times like this that makes you want to smack yourself for not being able to make more friends. All you have is Jessika, who won’t be able to help you out right now, and Rey, who stayed with Finn and Poe in an apartment just nearby. You could ask Rey if you can crash on her couch for the night, but you felt like you were bothering her.

You had never been over to their place, despite knowing them for months now. Finn and Rey had invited you over a few times before but you always had some excuse to not go. You just weren’t that great with people, even if it was people you knew and care about.

You honestly didn’t know why Rey tried so hard to stick around you. You never made it very easy for anyone to be your friend. Your naturally aloof nature had made sure of it. Jessika has been the only one who had stuck around since middle school, and when both of you ended up in the same college, you jumped at the chance to room with your best friend.

You rub your eyes, picking up your phone. The time shows 1 am as your finger hovers above the call button on Rey’s contact. Just do it you have no choice, you try to convince yourself as you hit the call button.

---

The doorbell rings you stuff a few extra clothing and your laptop in a bag, just as Rey had instructed. You go to open the door, wrapped up in an overcoat, and hoping you don’t look as much of a mess as you feel. But Finn catches sight of your puffy red-rimmed eyes and immediately pulls you into a hug. The warmth is welcoming after feeling cold for so long, and you gladly fall into the embrace.

Thankfully Rey was still awake when you called. The second she had picked up the phone, the tears started flowing freely as the stress of the whole week hit you at once. She had managed to calm you down until you sounded coherent enough to tell her what your problem was. Both Rey and Finn were both willing to let you take up the guestroom in their apartment for as long as you needed. Rey told you she was picking you up and Finn had insisted he come along since it wasn’t safe for the two of you to be alone in this weather. They had basically shut down any apologies you sent their way, insisting it wasn’t any trouble for them.

“Rey’s waiting in the car,” Finn informs you. You sling your bag onto your shoulder. “You good to go?”

---

The first thing you noticed when you stepped into the ridiculously large living room, was the cityscape. Tiny lights twinkling in buildings as the snow fell, softer than feathers. It looked like a scene from the movies.

You can’t help the woah that you breathe out at the sight before you. You’re aware of exactly how stupid you look standing there, mouth agape, but you can’t help it. The entire apartment looks gorgeous.

Rey giggles at your expression, dragging you along to the guest bedroom. Which, unsurprisingly, is almost as big as your entire apartment. Settling your things on the table, Rey sits on the bed, gesturing for you to take a seat as well.

“You better now?” She asks flinging an arm around your shoulder. “You can stay here as long as you like, don’t worry I’m not expecting you to pay me or anything.” She jokes. “You know you can ask me if you need anything, right?”

It’s an effort not to start sobbing at her kind words. You lean your head against her shoulder. “You’re too nice to me Rey, not everyone would do this for anyone.”

Rey chuckles, “Firstly, you’re not just anyone, you’re one of us now,” she pulls back, holding your face in her hands. “And secondly, you would do the exact same thing if our positions were reversed.” You just nod, too dumb to say anything.

“Finn and Poe stay upstairs. I haven’t Poe since morning, he locked himself in his room, studying for some test I think,” she engulfs you in a bear hug before getting up. “Just knock on my door if you need anything, I’m right next door. And there are some snacks in the kitchen if you’re hungry. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

---

It is 3 am and Poe, utterly exhausted after an entire day of cramming for his hematology test which was probably still going to kick his ass, finally pulls his headphones off his ears. He thinks he surely looks as tired as he feels. The whole room is a mess of books, notes and granola bar wrappers strewn around, an empty coffee pot and mug on the table. He tells himself he’d clean it up tomorrow, after getting some sleep and food in his system. His stomach growls, reminding him of his hunger again and he collects the coffee pot and the wrappers and sets off to the kitchen to get something to eat before heading to bed.

His phone lays forgotten on his bedside table. He doesn’t feel like picking it up, already anticipating the number of missed texts and calls he would've received from his girlfriend. Studying medicine was hard work and time-consuming. It was easier to just pretend like his phone didn’t exist sometimes rather than try to explain to Sarah why he needed the whole day to study. He’d deal with her wrath later.

Poe sighs heavily treading down the staircase. The living room is dark and empty as expected, but there’s light coming from the kitchen. A small part of him couldn’t help but feel thankful for that. He wasn’t scared of the dark per se, but the recent horror movie had led him to question some of his life decisions. Like whether it was worth being friends with Finn and Rey. He probably would’ve walked out of the theater within less than an hour if you weren’t there, holding his hand. The memory brings a smile to his face.

Imagine his surprise when he sees you. He expected to see Finn or Rey at the kitchen, but there you are sitting at the dining table, a frown on your face as you click away at your laptop.

Was he hallucinating?

—-

You are sitting cross-legged on one of the dining table chairs. Your laptop sat on the table, alongside a few detail plans spread out, as you edit your drawings. The table in the guest room wasn’t big enough to fit the large plan drawings. So you had moved to the dining table since everyone had already gone to sleep.

You feel like you have stepped into an alternate universe where everything feels new to you. The view of the city through the full height glass window was just so breathtaking, but the large living room only feels emptier and somehow colder than your small apartment, even with a working heater. Regardless, you slowly slip into your own rhythm getting more accustomed to the almost eerie silence.

You startle when Poe calls out your name. “What are you doing here?” You look up and oh god he looks adorable. His hair is tousled and he pushes a few curls back from his face trying to tame it. He’s smiling at you, brown eyes sparkling, and it makes you feel all soft and warm inside and- and he just asked you a question. And you are just staring at him like a creep instead of answering.

“Oh, hey Poe!” You try not to cringe at yourself, hoping he hadn’t noticed you staring. Poe grimaces when you explain your whole heater situation to him.

“Well, I hope you’re comfortable,” he says. “Don’t mind me, I’ll be back in my room soon enough,” he smiles again, moving to walk past you. You hear him rummaging around in the kitchen for a few moments.

You mentally slap yourself, feeling like such an asshole. He has a girlfriend, for god’s sake. No matter how much Finn and Rey seemed to hate his girlfriend, you still feel guilty for thinking of Poe as anything other than a friend. You cuddled him in a movie theater, christ. You resist the urge to slap yourself on your forehead. What were you thinking?

For someone who just said ‘don’t mind me’, he makes it pretty hard to ignore his presence. He is back at the table and takes a seat, curiously frowning at the plan laid out before you. His cereal bowl is on the table before him, carefully placed away from the papers you had spread out. You continue your work, trying not to get too distracted by the man beside you.

“What are you doing?” Poe asks you. So you explain to him the long-winded process of the schematic drawing before you and how you need to add in the changes marked out to the 3D model in your laptop. You’re pretty sure you are rambling halfway through it, but Poe seemed to be interested enough, occasionally asking you more questions here and there. Explaining your work becomes complaining about it and soon you find yourself exchanging internship horror stories with him.

Halfway through your conversation, you hear a patter of tiny footsteps and the cutest corgi you’ve ever seen emerges from the hall. Poe immediately perks up at its arrival scooping the ecstatic canine into his arms. “Buddy! Why aren’t you sleeping?” The corgi paws at his shirt, barking and licking his face. Poe laughs, scratching its fur, “I missed you too, buddy.” You can’t take your eyes off the scene unfolding before you, heart swelling at the interaction, you’re sure you’re making heart eyes at them.

Once the corgi calms down enough for Poe to comfortably hold it in his arms, he turns his attention back to you. “This is Beebee,” he introduces his corgi to you, “My son,” You laugh and Beebee tilts his head inquisitively, looking up at you with his sparkling brown eyes. Like father like son, you think.

The bowl of cereal lays forgotten on the table as the two of you continue chatting. Well, he does most of the talking as you continued on with your work, your attention mostly focused on Poe regardless. He absentmindedly pets Beebee, who is now dozing off on his lap.

“He’s a big baby, can’t live alone. Honestly, I think anyone would go insane if they lived here alone,” Poe concludes his story of how Finn had practically begged him and Rey to come to live with him. Poe is your senior by two years and had been staying in a dorm before Finn started college.

“Big baby huh? Says the one who can’t watch a demon on a screen without looking like he’s going to cry,” you snicker, bumping his shoulder with yours.

“They’re just really scary okay? I don’t how you can sleep after watching things like that,”. He grimaces, holding Beebee closer. “Great, now I’m thinking about demons,”

“Oh no! Quick, think about something else,”

“About what? Ask me something,”

“Um... okay, how did you meet Finn and Rey?” you ask him.

“Oh that’s a long story,” and so he begins the tale of how both his parents, Shara Bey and Kes, were in the Air Force where they met and fell in love and-

“Wait, are you giving me your entire biography?” You interrupt him.

“No no, it’s relevant, trust me,” he assures you before continuing. Queue the entrance of a new character named Han, who was their best friend and was married to Leia Organa, who would become his godmother-

“Wait, Leia Organa?” You gasp, “Senator Organa is your godmother?”

“Great so you’ve heard of her-” you don’t even let him finish his sentence again.

“Heard of her? I've been a huge fan since the time she crushed the Vader dude during that debate,” he chuckles before continuing.

The story takes a somber turn when he tells you that his mother passed away due to an illness when he was 8 years old. He quickly skims over that part before telling you about going to live with his godmother in an obscenely rich neighborhood, since his father was away too much due to his work. Leia’s son Ben, apparently, was the resident asshole of the place, who hated Poe for reasons unknown to him. So Poe had resorted to making friends with the two younger children living across the house instead.

It’s an endearing story, which could’ve been told with lesser detail, in half the time. But you would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy listening to him talk.

It’s a miracle that you are almost done with your work. Its almost 4.30 am and it occurs to you that you’ve been keeping Poe for quite some time. You see him trying to stifle a yawn in between words as he tries to narrate the story of how Finn had broken his arm trying to sneak out of the house in the middle of the night.

“Poe, don’t you have classes in the morning? Don’t you need to sleep?”

Poe feigns offense, “Am I boring you?”

“No,” you laughed. “I stay up all alone sometimes, and it gets very lonely, so thank you for keeping me company.” You answer sincerely. You are pretty sure Poe is beaming, but that could also be the side effect of not getting much sleep for days. Well at least you can sleep in tomorrow, and the guestroom bed looked really inviting. “But, you also really need to sleep,”

“Well my classes only start after lunch tomorrow- I mean today, so I still have time to sleep,” he stifles another yawn with the back of his hand. “Actually, you’re right, I need to sleep,”

BB8 is asleep, snoring lightly on his lap when he finally relents. He scoops up the corgi in one hand and the mostly empty bowl of soggy cereal on the other, dropping it in the kitchen sink.

“Good night, or is it morning already?” He flashes you a grin that makes your insides flutter.

You chuckled, “See you later, Poe,”

You’re so fucked.

---

The Dameron taglist (open):

@writefightandflightclub @arkofblake @yougottakeeponkeepinon @multifandomlife22 @skymerons @smol-peter-parker @rae-rae-patcha @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @spider-starry @hkmultifandom

#poe dameron #poe x reader #poe fluff #poe dameron au #college au #starwars au #poe dameron fanfiction #Starwars fanfic #me:im gonna keep this short and sweet #also me:i need to explain e v e r y t h i n g #Is this good or absolute trash #i can no longer tell #that ending was so abrupt urgh

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karliahs · 5 years ago

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for prompts um.. aizawa learning about ofa but in like a painful way? in a 'im telling you this because i have no choice/we're gonna die anyway so what does it matter' way? maybe? i also just want... people realizing that deku had a Hard Time and because of that its hard for him to really be like. thoroughly happy. he's so passively suicidal it hurts lol!

content warning for descriptions of serious injuries

Shouta is aware of how fast things can turn bad. USJ had gone from a training exercise to a desperate struggle to preserve 20 lives in a matter of seconds.

So, he isn’t exactly surprised when he wakes from unconsciousness chained to a wall, still-blurred vision scanning the room - some kind of basement, two masked men, Midoriya chained up on the same wall. That suggests a lack of knowledge, that maybe they’d expected Shouta to be alone and grabbed the kid as a bonus, because chains aren’t exactly-

As if he’s brought it into being with the thought, power crackles along his student’s arms and the chains holding Midoriya break with an oddly-muted crack. Midoriya jumps to his feet, spinning the momentum straight into a kick that launches one of the men across the room. The other, instead of backing away from the 16-year-old explosion of power they’ve clearly vastly underestimated, steps in closer, and Shouta activates erasure with a lurch of panic in his gut.

Then, everything goes oddly still. Midoriya and the captor still on his feet just stand there, at an angle where Shouta can’t see what’s happened to make them stop. The man takes one step back, and still Midoriya just stands there, suspended, angled too far away for Shouta to be able to see his expression.

What he can see is the man in the corner starting to recover from the blow, dragging himself up - then stopping with pure panic in his eyes when he sees Midoriya. He bolts for the stairs, the other man backs up another step, and finally Shouta can see the knife embedded in his student’s abdomen.

When things go bad, it happens fast. So fast it feels like time is slipping away, like he’s moving in slow motion compared to the rest of the world. Both men are bolting now, clearly in over their heads, leaving Shouta still chained up with a kid with a stab wound.

“Leave the keys!” Shouta yells after them, venom mixing with pure panic. “Call for help!”

He activates erasure even though neither of them seem to be using quirks to escape, just trying to have any impact at all, take something away from them. If this is remorse, it’s worse than useless. Corrupt enough that cut holes in one of his kids, cowardly enough to run without letting them out first.

Midoriya turns to face him, eyes wide. “Midoriya,” Shouta says, pieces clicking into place in his mind - his primary obstacle is a set of chains, and his only asset is a student who’s just proved he can break them without an issue. If only he weren’t hurt, bleeding and confused. “It’s going to be okay. You just have to-no, don’t.” Shouta interrupts himself as he sees one of Midoriya’s hands hover in the air by the knife. “Don’t take it out. It’s slowing the bleeding.”

Midoriya obeys all too easily, face unmarred by pain - just blank shock, and a hint of helplessness that looks strange on a student who so rarely asks for help with anything.

“It’s going to be okay,” Shouta says again. “If you can break the chains, I can get you out of here and we can find help.”

“Okay,” Midoriya says, voice choked and young. He takes one step towards Shouta before collapsing, finally crying out as he goes, but thankfully the angle of his fall takes him close enough to Shouta.

“Alright,” Shouta says, trying to keep the anguish out of his voice. If time is going slowly for him, he can only imagine how it feels for Midoriya, drifting in that timeless haze of agony. He needs to be clear and calm. He wants to believe one of those terrified men called an ambulance, but he’s lived too long to have faith in that kind of mercy. Clear, calm and fast.

Shouta wraps his hands around Midoriya’s, moves them to the chains on the wall and tries to help him get a grip. “Just one push, okay?” Shouta says. “Then we’ll get out of here.”

Midoriya shuts his eyes, and for an awful moment Shouta thinks he’s losing him - then his quirk comes to life, haltingly, the bright patterns on his skin skipping and lurching as if afraid. Usually, Midoriya’s control is such that his quirk seems to become active through his whole body at once, but now the glow starts at his chest and spirals out erratically - then it reaches his abdomen and he yelps, the light blinking out, hands falling to press down around the knife.

“Alright, alright,” Shouta murmurs. There’s blood spreading through the kid’s T-shirt. He’s taking short, stuttering breaths.

“Sorry,” Midoriya mumbles.

“Stay with me, kid,” Shouta says, taking his hand again. The chains clink as he moves, and god, Shouta would give every second he has left just to break that metal. “Try again.”

Midoriya obediently, painstakingly calls on his quirk again and gives a hard shove at the place where the chains meet the wall, but that little bit of movement causes him to let out a breathless scream and fall back. Shouta has to reach out his chained arms just to keep him from collapsing all the way down onto his back. Instantly, his hands are warm and wet; there’s blood at Midoriya’s back, too.

This can’t be happening. His student can’t be about to die because of two inches of metal. This bright, wonderful person can’t be about to die in his arms.

“It- it hurts,” Midoriya murmurs, leaning on him. “I can- I can feel the knife moving.”

“I know, I know,” Shouta says. “But we need to get you help. It’s either you make it up the stairs-”

Midoriya gives a panicked groan, shaking his head frantically.

“Or you break the chains and I carry you out. You can do this. I promise you can do this.”

Midoriya nods, tears gathering in his eyes, but several panicked breaths later and he hasn’t moved.

“Take a breath,” Shouta insists, quiet but firm, “then try again. Try to concentrate your quirk just where you need it.”

“It’s…it’s called One For All,” Midoriya says, tipping back a little in Shouta’s clumsy hold. “All Might gave it to me.”

Time slips away again, or something like it. There’s blood on the shackles on Shouta’s wrists. They look at each other, and even through the pain Midoriya seems to be searching his face for something.

“I wanted to tell you,” he adds, then slips back a little further and yelps in pain. Shouta is holding him up as best he can, but it still takes abdominal muscles to hold yourself in that kind of position - and every contraction of those muscles risks jostling the blade. He can’t die like this. He just can’t.

“Midoriya, please,” Shouta says. He doesn’t think his voice holds steady. Shouta has seen victims of stab wounds before, has been the victim of stab wounds before, and so he can’t avoid the knowledge that these minutes of coherency are numbered. As sure as up is up and down is down, soon enough shock and blood loss will render Midoriya unable to listen to what he’s saying, let alone use his quirk. If he hasn’t broken the chains by then - and if neither of those monsters called for an ambulance… “Please, kid. There isn’t anything else I can do. It has to be you, and it has to be now.”

“S-sorry,” Midoriya says, shutting his eyes for another heartstopping moment. He opens them and there’s a shred of his old determination shining there. “Sorry I caused you so much trouble.”

He moves his hands and before Shouta can register what he’s going to do, he’s clutching the hilt of the knife and pulling it out, activating his quirk in the next second and shoving forward to punch at the root of the chains. Finally, finally, they break, and Shouta is gathering Midoriya up in his arms and trying to put pressure on the wound at the same time, sprinting for the stairs.

“You did it, you did it, I’ve got you,” Shouta mutters, barely taking in his own words, and as he reaches the top of the stairs he hears the distant sound of sirens.

...

Hours later, in the grey light and never-quite-quiet of the hospital Shouta has refused to leave, he sits side by side with a silent Yagi, letting Inko Midoriya have some privacy with her son even if the doctors don’t think he’ll be waking up any time soon.

Shouta has had a lot of time to think, and mostly hasn’t done so. He won’t really be able to think until he sees his student alive, moving, talking again.

What few thoughts he has managed are shards of memory. A student who works harder than anyone, but came into high school with hardly any control over his quirk, the foundation most aspiring heroes start from. And Yagi, hiding off to the side, watching over his class’s first training session. Like he had a personal stake.

Shouta doesn’t pry into students’ lives for the sake of it. He and Nedzu have disagreed a couple of times over the level of surveillance UA should aim for when it comes to students, especially now that the dorm system had been implemented. But he can’t help a kid he doesn’t understand. He can’t help Midoriya recover from anaesthesia any faster, but he can try and understand the missing piece connecting Midoriya to Yagi.

“So,” Shouta says, voice flat. “One For All.”

Yagi sits up straighter. “He told you?”

“He was scared,” Shouta says. He was dying, he doesn’t say, because he isn’t, he didn’t.

“It’s…his story to tell, now,” Yagi says, and there’s a discomfort there that almost makes Shouta smile.

“Sure,” he says. “Delay the inevitable.” Shouta shakes his head. “That kid’s braver than you.”

“I know,” Yagi says simply, and a quick scan of his expression shows Shouta that he isn’t joking.

Shouta thinks they’re done, but Yagi turns to face him, solemn and sincere. “Thank you,” he says. “Thank you for getting him out of there alive.”

Shouta gives a short nod. “He did it himself.”

Yagi smiles. “You should get used to being thanked. I’m sure young Midoriya will be very grateful when he wakes.”

“Delaying the inevitable,” Shouta murmurs, slumping back in his chair, letting his eyes fall shut trying not to see echoes of the night’s horrors reflected in the dark.

#bnha fic #dadzawa #aizawa #midoriya #feel like my ~brand~ makes this kinda obvious but there's no major character death here!!#just big angst #thank you for the prompt!!!#gonna keep the second part of your ask in mind too bc that's exactly my kind of shit

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pinkysfaultorbrainsfault · 4 years ago

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animaniacs - s1e54: brain meets brawn

episode summary: the boys live with dr jekyll for some reason, so rather than mind his own business, brain decides to drink all of the Potion That Makes You Hulk Out without considering the potential consequences.

as usual.

the rundown:

we open at dr jekyll’s house.

again, you can tell it’s dr jekyll’s house because it has his name written on it. this time, he has a fancy sign on a stick so everyone can see it from the street. convenient! especially if he is a doctor? i don’t know lol. i don’t think it ever specifies. maybe he just has a doctorate in Being Large and Green with no regards to the practice of medicine.

homeboy looks weirdly like granny from looney tunes. maybe that’s what the potion is for? instead of hyde, it just turns him into a grandma. that would be fun!

oh. well. my mistake.

maybe this was some kind of experiment? i don’t know. honestly, i don’t remember why jekyll makes the serum in the first place. presumably, he has the antidote on the table too, but, uh.

yeah. RIP that, or whatever. give it a rest, you oversized muppet, you’re scaring the mice.

(there are, as per The Course, mice here.)

“egad”, says our resident Exposition Pinky, “dr jekyll has turned himself into that fearsome mr hyde again, brain.” for all of his personal worry, though, brain doesn’t seem too bothered, and instead decides to make this all about himself, as usual.

“yes, pinky. if only i could find a way to use that savage strength.”

delightful! the closeups are back. unfortunately, it soon pans away from Two Inches From Brain’s Face to highlight the rest of the plot of the episode.

phweeeet. i’m not entirely sure why the police are here. maybe they just heard a table getting knocked over and broke into the guy’s house. going around bothering people for minor loud noises and doing absolutely nothing about real crime or people in danger does sound a bit like what our police like to do.

“ere, that’s the brute! take im!”

hm. in the background, big ben chimes Four Bong, and the carnage immediately ceases.

“four o clock! tea time!”

“scone?”

“delighted.”

that’s just how things work over here, i guess.

eventually, they manage to haul him off, with a “roight, it’s jayel for you, mister hyde”

leaving the mice alone to contemplate.

i don’t blame them. i would be contemplating too, on account i have no idea what the fuck just happened. he drank the potion of Summoning The Police, i guess? why did he drink it? why did they just turn up? we literally don’t see him again.

while pinky ponders whether kids would still buy them if they were called Sad Meals (and i know i would, but i doubt mcdonalds existed back then) brain has more pressing observations.

“the british are obsessed with tea time, pinky. everything stops when big ben strikes four.”

and what a slanderous observation it is! excuse me brain?

EXCUSE ME.

HOW VERY DARE YOU.

HOW VERY VERY okay yeah actually you’re probably right.

anyway brain’s plan is to stop big ben at 4pm so it’ll be Forever Teatime and he can take over the british empire while everyone is having tea.

AND THEN THE WORLD we get two weird closeups in this episode.

“but you’d have to be some kind of hulking, muscular giant to stop that clock, brain.”

“exactly. as they say in rustic circles, bottoms up.”

(hoo hoo. it’s funny because he’s stood on the pyrex jug, which is tall, so he himself is tall, and also “up”, and also he’s yknow what never mind.)

GLOG.

pinky’s over there immediately, as soon as brain gets down* asking if he’s okay or if he feels anything strange.

*yknow, as opposed to up.

he kind of gets in brain’s face about it until brain loses his patience and tells pinky that he is angering him, and would he please--

DONK.

“naaaaaaaarf.”

there he is! the big boy. as a sidenote, i’ve only actually seen his design in.... fanart. this is the first time i’ve watched this episode! i love how he still has a red nose for no reason. it does not fit the colour scheme at all.

(i speak directly to the patb discord: do not make this weird for me.)

anyway his first course of action is apparently to smash a table over pinky’s head for no reason.

BRUH. WHAT ARE YOU DOING.

pinky squeaks out a “sorry i angered you, brain.” which is sad, but

seems to have an effect.

anyway, from that they work out that brain Gets Large when he is made angry, and then Unlarges when the person who made him angry apologises.

“anger me, pinky!”

“but zounds, brain, i don’t want tooooo.”

“PINKY.”

DONK.

see? works a treat.

so with that figured out, the lads bugger off to big ben.

but first, pinky requests that they make the bells play john jacon jingleheimer schmidt.

conclusion:

they do have some trouble getting there.

“look brain! that cloud looks like a big pomegranate!”

donk.

brain does not have a lot of patience, as should be obvious. still, even Larged Out, brain has enough mental fortitude to head to the main entrance to big ben instead.

“americans.”

brain takes this as an insult, and pinky narrowly manages to stop him from just straight up murdering those dudes.

they are, however, thoroughly knocked out, so the mice consider this a victory and sneak in.

it’s big.

like, i’ve never been to big ben, but if it’s open to tourists it can’t just be a big room with a massive death pendulum in it, surely? maybe the victorians cared less about health and safety.

the mice are also less bothered about this than i am, apparently. “there it is, pinky. the main wheel of big ben.” stop that and you stop the world, apparently. HE WHO CONTROLS THE TEATIME CONTROLS ALL OF BRITAIN ok he doesn’t say that. he does, however, maintain that he can stop the gears as Large Brain if pinky then goes and dislodges the pallette.

“now, make me mad.”

“HEY YOU. DUMBDUMB.”

“come on, you can do better than that.”

“YOUR MOTHER IS-- OLDER. THAN YOU.”

“pinky! try harder, quickly--”

DONK.

epic.

so pinky goes to dislodge the pallette.

“ NO̡ P̵IN͘K̸Y͞,͜ ̢T͜H͟E̷ ͞PA̧L҉LETT̢E̛.” brain is still surprisingly coherent in Large Mode, though, compared to hyde. huh. maybe it’s because he’s a smartboy or something.

“oops, haha, sorry brain.”

oh no.

oh dear.

oh fuck.

hickory dickory bonk lol.

“oh, i’m sorry brain.” says pinky, who already knows which way the tally is going, and holds his arms out for a hug.

donk.

well isn’t this an interesting development.

“egad, brain. i don’t mean to keep saying i’m sorry.”

i feel bad for giving pinky this, because really it’s more social conditionning than his deliberate fault. still, the episode ends with pinky repeatedly smacking brain in the head to attempt to reLarge him, so it’s not all bad.

brain: 3 pinky: 5 outside influence: 5

“once we enter big ben, i’ll use my physical prowess to stop the wheel, while you dislodge the pallette and disrupt the intrinsic mechanism.”

“what if that doesn’t work?”

“we’ll...... throw a big wrench in it.”

#patb #pinky and the brain #a!#animaniacs #i'm not sure i'm a big fan of how like #victimising this episode is #it really does feel like they just randomly decide whether pinky likes brain or whether he's scared of him every episode lol

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jackietaylorsghost · 6 years ago

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very Important adam/ronan things to take away from the cdth sampler:

“like the other lynch brothers, he was a regular churchgoer, but most people assumed he played for the other team.” i am SCREAMING. top tier gay joke. well timed.

everyone: ronan’s eyes aren’t pretty. adam: mhmm e y e l a s h e s

much to say about the revelation that ronan is partly at the barns to keep his dreams hidden and in check, and how much he relates an inability to change and be like everyone else to having to stay there. almost like he’s stuck huh! i’ve been saying!!

of note that words used to describe ronan’s existence are BORED and MALINGERED.

fingers crossed he finds some balance between his dreams and his wants/needs that allows him to leave the barns and grow but after the Great Crab Disaster I’M WORRIED.

fire imagery EVERYWHERE. i’m WORRIED again.

“there are stains that spread faster than you drive. if you drive, it’ll take fourteen years to get there. seventeen. forty. one hundred. we’ll be driving to your funeral by the end.” good to know ronan is still the most DRAMATIC boy in the whole of virginia. absolutely no chill.

dont like the possible foreshadowing of that driving to your funeral by the end, though. must leave lynches alone!

“it’s very safe” asjkajjka DECLAN PLEASE

“ronan kicked one of the volvo’s tires” asjkajjka RONAN PLEASE.

ronan trying to act nonchalant by cramming chocolate covered peanuts into his mouth and choking a little is Peak Disaster Gay.

matthew’s music must be awful if ronan and declan are in agreement over it, must have playlist.

ronan who lives to pretend he doesn’t care wondering if his brothers didn’t say anything about his moving because it didn’t make a difference to them is huhhh. don’t like it, take it away pls.

i’m sorry, ENTIRELY WRAPPED UP IN! ENTIRELY!

entirely

wrapped

shut up!!!! shut upppppp!

“is there any version of you that could come with me to cambridge?” tbh nothing would have readied me for this. adam i-can-do-everything-alone asking ronan if he could go with him. so much growth, too much pride, nowhere to put it, send help.

the fact that ronan doesn’t stay in cambridge when he visits adam because of plausible deniability, that if he doesn’t try there’s no evidence he can’t make it there. rip.

ronan! missed! him! like! a! lung!

dramatic again, but entirely relatable bc damn, same ronan, same.

a) ronan thinking about how his heartbeat is the same as everyone else’s so he wasn’t that different and b) JUST LIKE ADAM’S HEART WHEN HIS HEAD WAS RESTING ON HIS HEAD = much too much to think about. need to lie down for a bit.

he could move to follow the guy he loved!! we all knew it was love, we’ve always known it was love, but! the words. the words!!!!! brb sobbing.

i have only had jordan for a day and a half but if anything happened to her i would kill everyone in this room and then myself. 11/10 would marry.

art forgery plot confirmed!

THIS WAS HOW IT HAD BEGUN

bitch fkajdkajksja GIVE ME A WARNING.

still can’t compose myself RE the info that ronan saw adam and immediately sent a desperate prayer up to god

will the word please ever be the same again? definitely not!

adam’s arms adam’s hands his lovely! boyish! hands!

the description of his expressions with all its contradictions and multitudes is just my favourite thing ever. it encapsulates everything i love about adam fucking parrish.

and the fact that ronan instantly recognised all those multitudes in him. there was always a level of understanding ronan had for adam throughout trc that no one else did and this tells us he had that before he even met him, he just... recognised something in him i just... ;______;

please

ronan knowing all the harvard stats because he was the person adam could crow to, how he takes on that adam that is still full of contradictions and multitudes, how he finds it hard but he absorbs all the facts and all of adam’s anxieties, even in the face of his own anxieties about adam leaving and falling in love with the shining, educated people that ronan thinks are better than him. that absolute, unwavering support 😭😭😭

tbh there’s a whole ass lot to unpack in this section so imma try and do it briefly (she says!)

ronan lynch is a romantic cdth confirmed:

he could have texted adam but he liked the soft surprise of it

over the past few days ronan had played his reunion with adam over in his head MANY TIMES

adam i love you but that outfit sounds awful. you are a student, it’s a friday night, put some sweats on and stuff some cheetos in your mouth.

the sweet nervousness of their reunion, how they walk past each other and both seem so uncertain. they’re a year into dating and the still get nervous and unsure after a few weeks apart and it’s CUTE and definitely speaks to their excitement/anticipation levels.

THE WATCH. big time softness.

they hugged hard ;_____;

im just so relieved that they’re allowed to touch each other and be intimate and aren’t consigned to the ‘boys in love aren’t like that boring boring’ corner.

the way ronan thinks about how adam fits as he remembered. huh. you’re really gonna do this to me.

his hand still pressed against the back of ronan’s skull the way it ALWAYS did when they hugged.

you smell like home. you smell like home!!!!!! brb ive gone absolutely fucking feral.

i both want to play repo because it sounds fun and don’t want to because it sounds complicated and i fucking hate instructions. much confusion.

adam pressing his shoe hard against ronan’s and then his leg and then breathing in ronan’s ear I AM HOWLING. ronan’s nerve endings being made a marvel of I AM SOBBING. it’s very important that m/m ships are afforded the same level of explicit attraction as m/f (and i don’t mean explicit as in nsfw, i mean as in obvious)

no offence because i love them but all of adam’s friends sound Extra™

“to the outside eye, ronan lynch was a loser” pls ronan, you are giving me an ulcer.

scary spice i asjkjdkjskdjak

queer crying club! i stan!!

also adam saying in the epilogue of trk that he wanted to save all the adam’s hidden in plain view and then going to college and scooping up all the criers and giving them something to do is far too much to handle.

don’t think about that and the time he thought about how he used to spend his nights crying on the trailer steps and wondering why he bothered until gansey came along and offered him friendship. dont think about how he’s essentially paying that forward DON’T THINK ABOUT IT.

hand holding, arms around each other, hip to hip walking, can’t wait anymore kissing, I MISSED YOU. love that for me!

but also the fact that adam reaches down for ronan’s hand and its so natural. ronan’s hand is there so he just. takes it.

hearing ronan’s thoughts on what happened with robert at last is A Lot. the way it’s still happening, always happening, kept fresh and savage shows how affected ronan was by it all and still is and i think its so important that he’s not just. angry and hot headed. there’s more to it than that. its painful, it makes him feel sick, its unending and it really speaks to how much adam means to him.

adam thinks he has no one BITCH YOU’VE GOT ALL OF US.

and ronan.

but. how he feels like he has nothing still. the way his voice hitches on ‘because’ because it’s all still so painful. i wanna wrap him up. i wanna take everything that hurts away. i wanna tell him he’s so loved. guess i’ll just have to sit back and watch him work his way through it all I GUESS. no but i am looking forward to his growth in this trilogy, especially considering how much he’s grown already. adam parrish invented character growth lets 👏 be 👏 real 👏

it had never been a fight between them/it was a fight between adam and himself, between adam and the world/for ronan it was a fight between truth and compromise, between the black and white he saw and the reality everyone else experienced. i LOVE this. it so well encapsulates them. and it’s so important that they can realise their differing world views and their complexities and meet in the middle somewhere.

“ronan put his lips on adam’s deaf ear, and he hated adam’s father” FUCK ME UP. my absolute favourite bit 103930%. absolute incoherent mess over here. not! okay! see other post for more coherency because i only had it for 5.7 minutes.

frowning, guarded, crumpled adam who i’ll literally. never be over in all of my life. 38983/10 will love him until the end of time.

i want it too much. !!!!!! going feral again over here. WHAT DO YOU WANT ADAM? I WANT IT TOO MUCH. definitely will never shut up about this.

scared adam is going to be a visionary so pretending chapter 6 doesn’t exist.

LINDENMERE ;________;

i love it already

i CANNOT believe that ronan is being dream invaded and challenged and he’s over here like hmm nice bike ELEGANT and ROUGH and READY like ADAM asjkasj please ronan you are so embarrassing!!

also. ronan thinks adam is elegant and rough and ready so! there’s that!

i literally. cannot. cope with the HILARITY of chapter 8. the whole thing is a complete and utter DISASTER. it’s absolutely gone off in adam’s room after all his work at constructing a well put together boy. ronan comes for a night and everything goes BONKERS. amazing.

(really worried about what this means RE ronan being able to exit the barns and grow and change and not be bored and not feel like a loser so we’re focusing on the hilarious disaster of it all.)

p.s. adam sleeping slotted between ronan and the wall OKAY. THIS IS FINE!

p.p.s. adam’s bed hair is WILD.

p.p.p.s i have missed adam and ronan so so so so so much and im an emotional fucking wreck

#call down the hawk #ronan lynch #adam parrish #pynch #dreamer trilogy #cdth spoilers #long post #sorry so much to say we were so well fed so many thoughts #;_____;#lou.txt

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shinos-artblog · 5 years ago

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Ishimondoweek2019 (Day 4)

November 6th: (107 - Kinky Au) Kiyotaka wants to spice up his sex life with Mondo.So one day when Mondo was out of the house Kiyotaka goes on a kinky shopping spree buying Lingerie, toys, Handcuffs, rope, gag, blindfold, collar / leash, whip, anything he could So his Mondo gets home he is shocked to see Kiyotaka dressed in leather and lace with some high heeled boots on holding a whip calling him over to the bedroom.Mondo doesn’t know if he should be scared or aroused but he’s kinda both.

(im so sorry this is so late, it turned out longer than i wanted it to go and i was sick with a stomach virus for 2 days :( but i should be able to get the others out as well! but they will be done!

Mondo didn’t really know what to do in awkward situations. Despite his entire life being one, this was an entirely different, new, awkward moment of his young life. Being 24 you would have thought he’d done it all. Actually… no, he hadn’t. In fact he never was prepared for something as intense as this moment but here he was. Watching as his best friend, former best friend now turned something more prance around dressed in lace underwear and high heeled boots up to his knees. A whip held tightly in his hands though hes sure it wont actually be used for anything other than show. After meeting up again after 5 years of college things kind of escalated to the point of no return. A boiling point that even Mondo didn’t know existed. From friends to lovers, it happened so quickly. This wasn’t their first time, but it was a time he wouldn’t quite forget. He gave a gentle click of his tongue and tilted his head to the side as he watched hips move back and forth, slowly and uncoordinated.

“Ya know, you don’t gotta do it if yer embarrassed or notin’...”

“But I want to pleasure you. I would like for you to watch me and enjoy.”

“Well… yeah but, ya seem kinda...erm...awkward?”

“Does it make you… feel awkward as well, Oowada-Kun? Would you like me to cease my movements?”

“N-No! I mean, fuck, it does make me feel fuckin’ weird but not in a bad way! Ya know?!”

“Then… should I continue…?”

“S-Sure...”

Kiyotaka smiled shyly and walked over with a gentle prod to Mondo. Pale arms wrapped around a tan strong neck, a low heavy sigh left his mouth as his lips dragged over his boyfriends ear. Both now so much more mature than when they were in high school Mondo felt his body burn bright at the sudden touches. The quiet whispers echoing into his frame made it shiver and hands reached up to grab at wide hips. Tugging gently at the lingerie it felt less weird having something to grip onto. Its strange in a sense, he thought he would be doing this with a girl but again here he is a man. Not only a man but someone he has considered to be someone he couldn’t imagine life without. He closed his eyes and soft lips graced his eyelids. Kissing his nose until both of their lips connected together. Like fire it ignited deep within them. Kiyotaka slid into his lap and laughed nervously.

“I’d never thought I’d see the day were you got this flustered over someone like me Oowada-Kun, not even in my dreams. Hahaha...It actually makes me quiet nervous!”

Mondo couldn’t help but chuckle himself at the thought of being this, rough and tough guy who had no worries at all when it came to sex. In fact he wanted to know this version of himself his friend so vividly imagined him as. Kiyotaka said he’d always figured he’d have loads of women on his arms, so many he would lose count. He said he had been handsome since high school but had grown so much more into himself. Complemented on his hair, how it was much cuter short and not in that ridiculous pompadour. A million times he had said things and a million more but never so much about what he originally thought he would be like in bed.

“So, what did ya expect me ‘ta be like?” Leaning back on his hands he eyed the other up and down looking for an expression to read and damn if Kiyotaka wasn’t an open book. It was written all over his face how he felt about the situation but he was going to milk it for all he could.

“I-I don’t know how to explain that Oowada-Kun…! It is quite embarrassing to explain such a thing.” Watching as Kiyotaka licked his lips, his brows furrowing while he tried to form his thoughts into a coherent sentence. “I suppose...I had always pictured you as a rather confident individual! I thought perhaps you would end up taking the reigns so to speak! That...even though you had never experienced anything with a man beforehand, that you would be more versed in such activities!” He paused again, face turning and even darker shade of red against his skin. “I also must admit that...I wondered if you would be a rough man, Oowada-Kun...and you did not disappoint in the slightest...”

As the words echo in his empty, lust filled skull it rattled around in there for a little while before it finally caught up with him. He blushed heavily, scratching the back of his neck as the volume began to raise in his throat. “THAT’S OK YA KNOW?! KNOWIN’ YA THOUGHT BOUT ME BEFORE HAND S’ KINDA HOT!” his temper was through the roof but it only made the other gaze at him in what seeed stupor. He had to take a breath, play it cool so coughing into his hand he spoke again with a cracked voice. “I mean..s’ jus’ nice… knowin’ how ya feel, honestly I wish I’d known sooner, wouldn’t have had ta’ wait ta see this kinky side of yers.” he added with a nervous smile and sincerity in his eyes.

Although he was nervous, it helped seeing Kiyotaka in a similar situation. Both men were confident in their own right, but when it came to romance and sex, they were also both equally helpless. Kiyotaka released an indignant huff, signaling his displeasure with the conversation at hand. “I have never experienced such urges before, so forgive me if I was unsure of how to act upon them!” Mondo’s comments were not helping his confidence in the slightest.

“M’ s’rry, s’rry really!” Mondo felt a bit nervous for making Kiyotaka a bit huffy with that kind of comment so he went back to what he figured would be best. Running his calloused fingers down his sides, across his thighs and down to his boots. Says “S’ cute...you wearin’ em’ like this. I was kinda worried ‘bout the whip though.” he listens as Kiyotaka’s loud booming laughter bubbles from his throat and tells him it was just a prop, he wouldn’t even know where to begin using it! But Mondo just huffs, “If ya would though, I don’t think I would mind much.”

The revelation made Kiyotaka’s skin burn, another more nervous laugh following suit. “I see...” He replied, one hand traveling down Mondo’s chest to the front of his pants. “Do you enjoy pain then, Oowada-Kun? It appears that you are more devious than I previously assumed as well? Shall I indulge you in your request?” With that, he lifted the handle of the whip to Mondo’s chin, his eyes piercing while he awaited an answer.

Mondo took a big gulp, watching the other with careful eyes, it was strange it was almost as if he put on a completely different manner. Fear trickled down with the sweat that followed it. His mouth too dry to say much of anything as he tried desperately to give the man his answer. There was something so sweet, yet deviously powerful about Kiyotaka that Mondo could never quite place though he supposed it didn’t matter at this moment. Despite the worry he felt the arousal was overflowing and he just muttered out a simple “Y-Yeah, sure.”

There was an air of hesitation in his voice that Kiyotaka could sense. He slid the leather object downward, silently pondering what he should do or say next. After all he wasn’t exactly an expert, he was mainly drifting on assumptions and the guise of being completely in control of his actions. “I would like a more immediate answer, Oowada-Kun. When I ask a question so graciously, I do expect a more formal response… is that clear?” He raised a hand, resting it on Mondo’s cheek gently. It had his heart racing, and there was the slightest flinch when he assumed Kiyotaka was going to hit him. His fight or flight intuition wanted to kick in, but he held it back, instead it only made him more excited. His dick throbbed with yearning just at the mere thought of Kiyotaka hitting him, and calling him things that would in any normal circumstance, end in the other person dead on the ground.

“Yes...” It came out weak sounding and it made him bit his tongue, cursing. “Fuck yeah, Kiyo...mess me up!” He could tell that it struck a chord, Kiyotaka’s breath catching in his throat. There was a bit of a glint in his eyes before he pulled his hand back, connecting it once again with the flesh of Mondo’s cheek. There was a sharp, audible sound, the younger man moaning despite not being the one who was hit. There was a silence between them, the biker’s only thoughts wondering if he’d heard correctly when Kiyotaka moaned after hitting him. Those questions ran fast and wild in his head as he opened his mouth. It was hot, his skin was burning eve more so where he was slapped. The heat traveled to his groin and he let out a sound of approval.

“Go on...hit me again, harder Kiyo...” It was as if he was begging to be taken advantage of, in a strange turn of events there was kink emerging that he never knew existed. Of course it would be the prefect who found out, and the only one to live after doing such a thing to him. But those words seemed to spur him on even further, Kiyotaka’s pale skin tinted a light pink from both arousal and exertion. He planted a hand down on the larger man’s chest, shoving him down to his mattress while his gaze became darker than before.

Although he was the furthest from it, he looked like a predator, leaning down to kiss the man at his mercy below. “If that is what you wish, when who am I to deny such a request?” The phrase was breathed against them, punctuated with a sharp bite. It was surprising to have Kiyotaka let out such a furious chomp. It hit his chest, causing Mondo to grunt and grab his lover’s hair, tugging on it slightly. His heart swelled. It was so hot his head was spinning, seeing Kiyotaka take such a forward role got his blood pumping among other things.

“Damn, Kiyo—that’s too much! Fuck!” Mondo nearly hollered it, yet his protests fell on deaf ears. The younger man above only continued his assault, sighing against his lips. Hearing such a strong man begging while pinned below him was nearly too much on his own libido. Slim fingers released the whip, truthfully he preferred to use his own hands for things like this, it felt much more intimate to him. “How can it be too much when we have only just begun, Oowada-Kun?” He grabbed a pierced nipple, roughly twisting it as he spoke which caused Mondo to grit his teeth and hold his wrist still. “Fuck, it feels good…!” It was too intense, this was a completely different level that only as adults they could muster up the courage to do. He felt his body surge with need, breathing hard while Kiyotaka worked on his body, he knew all the right places to touch. It caused a grin to spread on his face as he twisted the piercing harder for emphasis. His breath caught watching his lover’s reactions and Mondo was hanging on by a thread, only moments away from begging him for more; he could hear it in his voice. He sat up once more, taking those calloused hands and placing them on his lace covered chest. “You have hardly managed to lay a finger on me...remember I did purchase these items for my enjoyment as well, indulge me if you will.” While honestly Mondo had forgotten about the outfit he was wearing, he hissed and stuttered out an apology. His heart was racing as he tried to control himself before he moved along too quickly. He gripped at Kiyotaka’s body, running his fingers up perky nipples. The underwear was soft and nice to the touch, the thought making him blush. It turned him on, seeing someone as straight laced as Kiyotaka writhe in pleasure, especially as a moan punctuated the air. The hips above began to move, the underwear doing no favors in hiding his arousal; the fact that the fabric was nearly sheer left nothing to the imagination. He arched his back, sighing out Mondo’s name softly as his nails began to dig into tan skin. He was still the one in control here, and he refused to allow Mondo the upper hand, pushing him back down to the bed. There was a soft “oof” that could be heard, Kiyotaka gazing down with a look that sucked his soul. “I gave you permission to touch, not control.” His hands moved for the pants which were obstructing him, tugging them down. The sight of Mondo’s bulge had him licking his lips before speaking again. “I am in control today, Oowda-Kun! And you will do as I say, or you will be punished...” The look in his eyes told Mondo that he meant business, that this was his night. The biker’s mouth went hot and dry, yet not dry enough that he couldn’t muster an answer. “Y-Yes, of course, Kiyo! Whatever you say!” And that utterance alone earned him another slap. “Do not refer to me so casually!” Was the response, Kiyotaka sighing to himself softly as he lowered his moth to the still clothed erection. He ran his tongue over Mondo’s boxers, refusing to break eye contact for even a second. It made his heart want to burst from his chest, watching him, hearing him, having Kiyotaka take control of him. He bit his bottom lip, asking cautiously what he would like to be called then? “Sir. I want to hear you say it, Oowada-Kun.” He smiled, but it was almost threatening. “You have never shown an authority figure any ounce of respect, have you?” Slowly, he peeled his boxers down, biting his lip as Mondo’s cock sprung from it’s confines. “This will be a new experience for you, a chance to learn...” Those words made him whine, the last thing the biker ever thought he’d be doing is taking orders from another man in frilly panties. Yet here he was, letting Kiyotaka suck his dick, tell him what to do, and all Mondo could do was watch. He couldn’t even open his mouth without worry that he might do something to him—might as in he knows he won’t—but that not knowing was all the excitement he needed. His words caught in his throat, seemingly unable to fulfill even the most simple request. Hot air made his hips twitch, the younger man gleefully breathing against his arousal as some form of torture. A tongue peeked out, licking a slow line from base to tip before Kiyotaka spoke once more. “I am waiting, Oowada-Kun. I believe I made a request, and I do expect it to be followed before you are rewarded any further.” “No-No...” Mondo groaned out, fingers digging int the sheets below them. “No, sir...I’ve never not once bowed to someone.” His breath hitched each time Kiyotaka did something to make him shiver. It was too much, and he felt like he may finish right there. “Kiyotaka...show me what ya’ got...” The last sentence earned him, a harsh bite to the tip of his cock, Kiyotaka glaring him down. “I will ask you again not to use my given name so causally. I will look past it this once, however next time I will not be so forgiving.” And with that, he opened his mouth and swallowed the other man, holding his gag reflex as well as he could. When Kiyotaka first learned to suck him off it was a rough process, both men had to learn how to push their throats back just enough to be able to swallow the other. Even though Mondo was better at oral, the prefect gave a good battle.

He knows Kiyotaka was putting on a show but damn could he be a bit more gentle? Mondo grabbed him by the hair and yanked it upwards, body reeling from the pleasure given to him. “F-Fuck, s’rry… sir!” His voice raised a few octaves, as the other sucked hard and fast at his cock, taking in as much as he could despite the way he was acting he could see the slight tears at the corner of his eyes. The struggle to take him fully in. It made Mondo harder. He twitched in Kiyotaka’s mouth trying to hold back the urge to thrust. “Ha...haaa-- sir, I need ya, please!” He was always good at playing along, the other knew him all to well.

And as he’d only just begun to pleasure the other man, that loud request came, Kiyotaka pulled off with an audible popping noise. He huffed, eyes lidded and lips glistening with saliva and precum. He licked them, climbing on his lover to present himself. Slowly, the underwear was worked just below his own erection, a shuddering moan of relief escaping him. “Are you becoming impatient? I have never see you bend this quickly Oowada-Kun.”

“Wit you like this? How th’ hell am I not suppose ta!” Large hands snapped to Kiyotaka’s waist and gripped it hard, already moving his hips back and forth seeing his boyfriends erection out in the open was making his body react on its own. It wanted something, someone. He wanted Kiyotaka Ishimaru. Mouth hung open and drool seeped out of the corner as he was so close to just pounding into the other. “S’ like my entire body s’ on fire! Ya really know how ta’ work a man up!”

“Nnh...” The sound that erupted was one of both acknowledgment and pleasure, his nose wrinkling and brows furrowing tight at Mondo’s proclamation. He too had enough of this foreplay, of trying to get kinky with the carpenter below him. An intense glare came downwards, it was fierce, determined. “Oowada-Kun…prepare me, please...” Despite the politeness in nature, it still had some bite to it.

When Mondo heard that it was over, he twisted their bodies and pushed Kiyotaka into the bed. Quickly heading into his draw, he pulled out a bottle of lube they kept in there for special occasions. Pouring most of it out onto his fingers he threw the bottle somewhere carelessly and growled into the others ear. Pulling his panties to the side and quickly sliding two in, kissing him gently. “I love ya… Kiyo...” He had to make sure he took his time, he didn’t want to hurt the writhing man below him but he also couldn’t wait a second longer.

He couldn’t help but stare at Kiyotaka’s face longingly, the way his mouth hung open and his fingers pressed into his shoulder like its life depended on it. Moaning, asking for more without speaking any words. A loud moan tore itself from his throat, followed by soft fingers gently caressing his cheek. “I love you as well, Mondo-Kun...” the mere mention of his first name from Kiyotaka’s mouth was enough to send him into a frenzy, even more so when his boyfriend began thrusting back against his thick digits.

It drove him nuts, the way he was riding his fingers, the way he called his first name. The only time he ever calls it is in a super intimate moment, but hearing it always makes him want to groan with pleasure. There was just something about having such a polite and formal person, get a little to personal. Smirking just a bit he eyes his movements before giving him some friendly words of encouragement. “Ride em’ babe, like it was my dick. I wanna see what ya got. Show me that determination!” If Kiyotaka could act, so could he. He didnt’ want to be the only one to derive some satisfaction from acting a certain way.

Just like Kiyotaka had first envisioned, Mondo practically oozed confidence. The way he spoke was as lewd and straightforward as ever, his words seeming to have an effect on the man below as well. His hand shot forward, tangling in his hair to pull him into a lingering kiss, “Please...I would like to make love with you, Mondo-Kun…!” The words were shouted out of such desperation and arousal that there was no way he could possibly say no. Mondo felt his loin on fire, he pulled out his fingers, nibbling on the bottom of Kiyotaka’s lips.

“Whatever ya want babe.”

He whispered softly against them before he grabbed his own dick, gave a few quick tugs and ran it up and between his legs. Teasing, just barely pressing the tip inside, relishing in how Kiyotaka whined, nearly begging him to get inside him as he tried to force himself on his dick. It was one of those very actions that drove Kiyotaka to what he did. With a deep groan, he flipped their positions once again, chest heaving and red eyes full of irritation and need. “My patience is wearing thin, Mondo-Kun...forgive me…” The words were breathy, just a needy whisper in their small room, but it was enough for Mondo to get the point even more so when his lover took hold of his cock, slowly sliding himself down with a loud moan.

Mondo hisses and grips Kiyotaka’s thigh roughly, pursing his lips he watched as the other slowly slid down on his cock. It was kind of hot, seeing himself enter into the politician. The way he took control and Kiyotaka looks down at him with hazy eyes, boots clicking at Mondo’s own legs before Kiyotaka grunts and places both hands on his chest. Giving one hard long thrust, grinding himself deep into the dick below him. It was enough to make him shout a loud curse, his nails digging into pale thighs and his hips shaking with the effort to keep still for now. More than anything, Mondo wanted Kiyotaka to set his own pace. He always tried his best to be a little more gentle; but it always did seem to go out the window. Slowly at first, the younger man rolled his hips, loud moans punctuating each time Mondo entered him.

Mondo could barely contain the movement of his body, it was too much having that tight heat engulf him every time the perfect slammed down on his cock. It made his heart race, a deep growl emitted from his throat as he kept his eyes on only one thing, Kiyotaka. The way he arched, moaned, the way he tilted his head back just a bit and when he opened his misty, crying eyes to look at him Mondo nearly pounded his ass right there. He wanted to take him so hard, but again he wanted Kiyotaka to take his time so again with all his might he controlled his uncontrollable animal instincts.

“Mondo-Kun...touch me, please…!” The request was desperate, fingers curling into a tan chest while his hips moved at an even more erratic pace. Tears streamed down his face, his mouth hanging open in heavy breaths, the sight alone making Mondo unable to deny his plea. A rough hand gripped him, stroking Kiyotaka as rhythmically as he could while he was nearing his own climax.

“Fuck, come fer me, babe...” His own voice was softer now, no longer shouting or begging, what started out as a rough night had turned into something more personal and passionate. Kiyotaka whined, thighs shaking and nose wrinkling as he called Mondo’s given name once more. It always seemed to happen in a flash, his back would arch like a bow right as his orgasm hit him. Beautiful was never a word he would use to describe the man above, but in moments like these he was the most beautiful person he’d ever laid eyes on.

“Shit, Kiyo—haa...M’ gonna come…!” And that set him off like a trigger, Mondo’s hips pressing up until they were flush with Kiyotaka’s, holding him down against him as he finished inside. Usually he would at least make the effort to pull out beforehand, however in more intense circumstances it seemed near impossible to do. For Mondo it was almost like claiming his territory, although the thought was a bit ridiculous.

Their bodies seemed stuck to one another, both panting as they gazed lovingly into each other’s eyes. Then, Kiyotaka slumped forward, his chest heaving from their activities. “Kyoudai...I do hate to disturb you after our intimacies, however I am afraid I am in urgent need of a thorough shower.”

And there he was, Kiyotaka’s usual personality making itself known and killing the mood as usual. “Ngh...can’t ya’ take it in the morning, or something’, babe? M’ kinda worn out myself.” But the look what was aimed at him said otherwise, Mondo sighing as he began to sit up. Damn, he was going to be sore in the morning.

A hand grabbed his wrist before he could completely stand up, his tired eyes looking towards piercing red ones. There was still a hint of blush on Kiyotaka’s cheeks, his lips pursed in a way meant he was on the verge of asking for something which may have otherwise been embarrassing.

“If you do not mind, Mondo-Kun...I would very much like for you to join me!” The mood was back, a subdued grin spreading on his face. Maybe he did have a little romance in him after all. Mondo chuckled, reaching over to run a thumb along Kiyotaka’s cheek as he spoke. “Yeah...I think I’ll take you up on that.”

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angrylizardjacket · 6 years ago

Text

but please don’t bite: i can’t stand the way you tease [2/2] /SMUT\

{Roger Taylor/Original Character/Brian May}

Summary: What happens on Halloween stays on Halloween; or, Ash and Roger and Brian sleep together, and Roger teaches Brian how to make Ash moan like he’s been hearing through the walls for weeks. And then some. Or; friends shag friends and it’s not a big deal. THE SMUT CHAPTER

A/N: 4622 words. PWP Longest smut piece I’ve ever written. Long awaited, absolutely filthy. Oral (male and female receiving), explicit sex, slight begging & ash maybe being a bit of a masochist, hair pulling, snarky dumbasses, Please let me know what you think, I’m sorry it took so long. im really not confident in this as a smut piece whoops :l

[aydtd]

Ash isn’t nervous. She’s not. Okay, well maybe sitting stark naked on the edge of Roger’s bed after struggling with her pants and the help of her boyfriend and his best friend was a new experience. Not an unpleasant one, just new; different.

It had been extensively discussed, potential spouts of jealousy preemptively dealt with, the main goal being fun above all else. And to not scare Brian off, which is a fair concern.

Here and now, in Roger’s room, lit only by the surprisingly bright glow of the moon as it’s light pours through the window, Brian hesitates before he touches her, not in a way that’s like he doesn’t want to, he’s more than eager, it’s a little endearing, but like he can’t quite believe this is happening. At the very least Ash doesn’t feel under-dressed, with both men down to their underwear, and so it’s instinctual; she takes the initiative.

No words pass as she gets up onto her knees on the edge of the bed, grinning wickedly as she beckons him closer. There’s no hesitation when she rests one hand on his hip, the other gently palming at his already hard cock through his briefs. He is generously proportioned, though Ash would be lying if she said she was surprised, or that she wasn’t a little excited at the prospect.

It starts feather-light, grinning and focused on teasing him before she’s even gotten his cock out, grazing her nails up his shaft through the thin fabric, before pressing a rough kiss to the outline of the head. Pulling back, she hooks her fingers into the waistband of his underwear and pulls it down slowly, deliberate but almost agonisingly gentle. With his cock free, she wraps her fingers around his shaft in a loose grip, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip, taking a moment to grin up at him, catch his reaction as she licks from the back of his dick to the head. Her amusement, though it’s not condescending as much as it is pleased, only seems to grow as she licks the precum from the tip-

“Don’t tease the poor man,” Roger snorted, and Ash’s face reflexively scrunched up as she leaned back and flipped him the bird.

“If you don’t like my methods, shut up, take over, or go fuck yourself,” she warned, before smiling sweetly at his fond eye roll. The tone shift was so jarring Brian had to take a moment to wrap his head around it, and by that time Ash had her lips around his cock.

“I’d rather not, on all three accounts; though I’m sure you could help me out with that last one,” Roger grinned, though Ash couldn’t really respond beyond flipping him off with her free hand, as she was trying to fit as much of Brian’s cock into her mouth as possible with each bob of her head, her other hand gently playing with his balls. Brian swallowed a moan, head tipping back as he threads his fingers gently through Ash’s hair.

The bed shifts as Roger moves to join Ash and Brian by the side of the bed, a mischievous smirk on his lips that the other two don’t see before he gently rests his hand on Ash’s ankle, alerting her to his presence. She doesn’t seem particularly phased by it as she goes back to teasing Brian, pressing a soft kiss to the dip of his hip bone, and up the length of his cock as she slowly jerks him off. Roger’s hand moves up her calf, squeezing gently every so often as it slides up the back of her thigh, to squeeze at her ass. Ash wiggles a little, lets out a hum of approval that has Brian choking back his own pleased groan, but Roger’s barely started.

With Ash teasing Brian, Roger takes it upon himself to tease her as keeps his other hand moving on his own cock, almost lazy as he keeps himself hard and entertained. His touch is light as he runs his fingers along the lips of her pussy; she shifts automatically at the touch, legs spreading just a little, hips moving to try and find more friction, to no avail, though she doesn’t seem too disappointed by it, still fairly focused on Brian. When she takes Brian’s cock in her mouth again, Roger dips a finger into her pussy, and after a beat, a moment of evaluation, he adds a second finger where she’s already slick and wet enough for it.

She makes a noise, a whimper of appreciation as Roger finds a rhythm, curling his fingers inside of her. The time for teasing is up, it seems, because she’s focused now, a hand on Brian’s hip, pulling him closer, alternating between sucking him off, and swirling her tongue around the head of his cock. Where he was hesitant earlier, it seems like his body moves before he can even think, hand all but fisting in Ash’s hair as his own head tips back. There’s whines that catch in his throat, and he knows he’s already close.

Brian’s nails dig into her scalp where he’s all but fucking her face, and she’s got a hand braced on his thigh, whimpering and moaning around his cock as Roger’s fingers curl inside of her as his thumb rubs at her clit. Words are spilling from his lips, half coherent warnings when he’s about to come, and it’s all Ash can do to nod, to take as much of his cock in her mouth as he comes, though Roger’s still finger fucking her, the rhythmic rolling of her hips having turned to squirming as she gets close but not close enough. She goes still, however, as Brian does, trying to swallow his cum as he holds her head in place, but she taps on his thigh, a clear signal that she needed some air. He steps back quickly, apologising automatically, but Ash is letting out a breathless laugh, chest heaving as she catches her breath for a moment, grinning as she wipes at the corners of her mouth.

“No- no need to apologise,” she assures, a wicked smile on her face. He responds with his own blissed-out smile as he looks down at her, pupils blow wide and stark naked in front of him, grinning. Selfishly, he thinks this might be the hottest she’s ever looked to him. He gives her a fond, happy grin as he leans in to kiss her, hand moving from the top of her head to cup her jaw. The kiss is shortlived, however, as Ash pulls back with a yelp, scowling at Roger where he’s pinched her thigh.

“You said you wouldn’t be jealous,” she huffed, and Roger, who’s still grinning, looking actually quite nonplussed, shrugged.

“How come he gets special treatment?” It’s all in good humour, and Ash’s frown melts to a smirk. Roger’s moving to sit back, closer to the middle of the bed, and Ash follows on all fours, giving Brian space to sit where his legs were shaking a little.

“Because I suck your dick all the time; you’re so needy,” she laughed, but she’s got a hand on his thigh, nails ghosting over his skin as they move higher, and Roger shivers a little. “You still alright with everything?” Her voice takes on a surprisingly gentle quality, and for the barest moment Roger’s gaze flicks over her shoulder to Brian, laying at the foot of the bed, still trying to catch his breath, and then back to his girlfriend, who’s expression was surprisingly and sincerely concerned.

He nods once, definitive.

“Then can I make one request?” Ash’s voice has gone dangerously soft, and when Brian looks over at them, well first he sees Ash’s bum, as if she’s damn well presenting herself to him, and already he feels his cock beginning to stir for round two, and then he sees where Ash has one hand on Roger’s thigh, and the other digging her nails gently into the skin just above the V-line of his hips. Roger licks his lips, expression expectant. “You finish what you damn well started.”

Brian can’t help himself, he reaches out and gives Ash’s ass a firm squeeze, and she throws a sharp, mischievous grin over her shoulder at him, wiggling her ass a little before turning back to Roger.

“He’s got the right idea,” she goaded, but then she gasps a little, eyelids fluttering closed as Brian traces the curve of her ass with his finger tips before he has a finger running over her slit, teasingly slow, as if fascinated, before he gently starts rubbing at her clit.

“Maybe I actually like watching you squirm like this, love,” Roger grinned at her, lifting her face so she could look him in the eye. She was blushing, she was actually blushing.

“Do you mind if I,” Brian’s sitting up now, one hand squeezing at her ass, the other still teasing her pussy, and Ash is already nodding adamantly, “return the favour?” And he has to laugh a little because she’s trying so desperately keep her composure, but the way her back’s arching and her legs as already widening betrays how needy Roger’s left her.

“This doesn’t let you off the hook,” she tells Roger, but her voice is muffled where she’s pressed her face against his thigh.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he responds with a surprising fondness. He’s not quite sure how to feels about how turned on he’s getting at the sound of Ash’s frankly pornographic moans as Brian eats her out. There’s a moment where he can feel himself coming to a crossroads; to awkwardly sit at the head of the bed and watch as this all goes down, or be an active participant.

Then Ash bites his thigh, can’t help herself, though it’s gentle, and Roger’s mind is made for him. Roger extracts himself from beneath her, smirking a little at her confusion.

“Come on, love, can you get on your back for me?” He asks, voice perfectly innocent, which was the biggest giveaway that he was up to something in this situation, and though she’s not quite sure what that is, Ash obliges. Brian leans back too, frowning at Roger, blushing a little himself, as if the situation he was in suddenly came back to him.

“Listen,” Roger says, himself a little flustered as he considered what he was about to say. He rests a hand on Ash’s thigh, “don’t make this weird.” He tells Brian firmly; Ash laughs, Brian just raises his eyebrows, “you and I both know Ash can get loud,” this makes Ash quiet down considerably, and it’s Brian’s turn to flush an amusing shade of scarlet, “and I can help you get her there - but we’re never telling anyone this happened, okay?”

After a moment of consideration in which Roger’s fairly certain Brian’s going to bolt from the room, the guitarist surprisingly grins.

“Well I’m here, aren’t I? I should at least make the most of it.” And with that Brian rests his hand on Ash’s other thigh. When the blonde looks to his girlfriend, she’s actually quiet, biting her lip in nervous excitement. “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you,” Brian murmurs, and Ash actually squirms at that, cursing and laughing under her breath.

Roger runs his nails gently along Ash’s sides as he instructs Brian, and Ash herself is about ready to say something snappy about how Roger’s being very presumptuous about a lot of things, but then Brian’s curling two fingers inside of her, hitting her g-spot just as he sucks her clit and her back is arching up off the bed. Her words die in her throat in favour of a stuttered moan, and all her thoughts seem to leave her head in a rush. All she knows is that she doesn’t want Brian to stop.

Brian has to keep his free hand firm on her hip to keep her from squirming, but it’s still difficult as her pussy flutters around his fingers as he fucks her, actually being the cause of the noises he’s heard through the walls too many times.

“Dig your nails into her hip, just a little,” Roger advises, voice low in Brian’s ear. Brian’s a little hesitant, but Roger’s been giving great advise regarding Ash so far, so he tentatively pressed his nails into the soft skin of her hip. The way she groans, the way her fingers thread through Brian’s hair, it’s nothing short of encouraging. However, the moment Roger leans over her, his tongue grazing quick and hard across her nipple, taking it gently between his teeth, the stimulation has Ash acting on instinct, and she brings her knee up, almost hitting Brian in the side of the head, and he pulls back to make sure she’s alright.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” she practically begs the moment his mouth leaves her pussy, and the neediness, the unashamed want, Brian has to swallow hard; he’s never heard her like this and he feels a little bit ashamed at how much he likes it, “please please please.” He only hesitates for a moment longer before he presses a quick kiss to her thigh and his lips find her clit again, tongue teasing as his long fingers curl inside of her.

“Close?” Roger asks, teasing, “already?”

“You’re a-” Ash cuts herself off with a whimper as Brian drags his nails down her thigh, and Roger can’t help but watch with a little adoration as her eyes finally flutter open again, refocusing on him, “a good teacher,” she breathes, and Roger snickers.

“He should not be the one getting credit for this,” Brian muttered, moving to bite gently at the woman’s thigh. Before she can say anything, he’s got a thumb pressing her clit just as the fingers in her press hard against her g-spot and Roger has to press her shoulder to the mattress to keep her from sitting up so suddenly she would have headbutted him.

Roger raises his eyebrows at the guitarist while curses and prayers fall from Ash’s lips, and Brian smirks despite the way he’s flushing. After a beat, Brian can’t help but laugh, the whole situation strange and sort of great, and that sets off Roger, laughing loud and bright at the absurdity of it all.

“I will go fuck myself if you two are gonna be weird about this,” Ash warned, propping herself up on her elbows, while Brian and Roger were beside themselves with laughter.

“No, come on love, don’t be like that,” and then Roger’s fingertips are trailing down her stomach, brushing gently over the slick lips of her pussy, and already Ash’s frustration was melting away, “he did quite well, didn’t he?” There was a new quality to Roger’s voice, the laughter having left it the moment he’d started speaking, now it was more a purr, and even Brian’s laughter was sobering up.

“A great job, I’d say,” Ash agrees, her gaze flicking to Brian himself, who was sitting back on his knees, watching this play out with interest, the way that even Roger’s featherlight touch had her shifting, as if looking for friction.

“But what was it you’d said about finishing what I’d started?” Roger asked, and Ash piqued an eyebrow, sitting up further. Roger was sitting beside her, one hand playing with her pussy, and Ash rested a hand on his thigh, so close to his achingly hard cock. She tapped on his thigh, tipping her head to the side in silent question. Instead of a verbal answer, Roger pulls her in for a kiss, tugging her on top of him.

Ash sinks down onto his cock with ease, head falling back and mouth falling open, a low, appreciative moan being pull from her the moment he fills her up. Roger’s got his lips on her collar, sucking a very dark, very visible bruise into her skin, and Ash, though half-lidded, lust clouded eyes, locks her gaze on Brian, beckons him over.

He moves to sit beside her on the bed, as if mesmerised, watching as Ash’s hips rock and she fucks herself on his best friend’s cock. And then she’s threading her fingers through his hair, tugging him in for a messy, sloppy kiss, moaning into his mouth as he moves on autopilot, his hands finding her tits, pinching at her nipples as she whimpers against his lips.

It’s as if she can sense how hard she’s made him yet again, her hand reaching out to grasp his cock gently, but he takes her hand, a flash of guilt surging through.

“You first, dear,” Brian murmurs in her ear. He moves close, can’t help himself, one of his hands snaking down to toy with her clit, and she whines, hips still moving as she tips her head to the side to rest her head on his shoulder.

“Pull her hair,” Roger advises amid his breath coming out in short, sharp pants.

“Roger!” Ash squawks, faintly embarrassed, blush reaching her chest, Brian notes, but then he’s got a hand in her hair, tugging none too gently as he rubs at her clit, and she actually cries out, presses a hand to mouth as her back arches sharply and she comes undone quickly.

“Oh god, oh fuck, oh god,” she’s gasping, riding out her orgasm, and Brian’s shuffled away, trying to give her a moment, but Roger’s hand are firm on her hips, and he’s grinning at her. He’s moving slow, but he hasn’t stopped. The moment Brian moves away, Ash collapses forwards, her forehead resting on Roger’s chest as she breathes hard, and he murmurs in her ear low enough that the guitarist can’t hear. Despite this, however, Ash is laughing, pleased and warm, and she kisses Roger surprisingly tenderly; Brian feels like he’s intruding.

“How are your thighs?” Roger asked, voice loud enough to include Brian in the conversation. Ash laughed a little breathlessly.

“Sore, but still very much in working order,” Ash grinned, and Roger’s gaze flicked to Brian, smiling just a little wider before looking back to the ginger.

“Do you need recovery time before round two?” He asks; with a thoughtful hum Ash looks at a pleasantly surprised Brian.

“I might need a glass of water, but I should be pretty good to go,” though she paused with a slight frown, looking back at the blonde, “but I- you- ?”

“Don’t worry, love, I’ve got it covered.” And with that Roger smacks her ass gently, urging her to get a drink. The moment she’s out of the room, Roger’s up, moving about his mostly-abandoned desk, pulling old, thick textbooks from the bottoms of drawers.

“What are you-?” Brian asks, sitting back, no longer ashamed, far too gone into the situation to be self conscious. If it were a different night, Brian would be freaking out being naked in Roger’s bedroom as the man himself is bare-assed and stacking books at the end of his bed, but now he’s just curious about the books.

“She’s got little legs,” Roger said by way of explanation, holding up a biology textbook, before placing it on top of another. Brian is still utterly confused. When Ash walks in, actually bringing a bottle of water which she offers to Brian, watching her boyfriend with mild amusement, she doesn’t ask questions. Tonight’s already been damn weird, she’s just trying to accept it all.

“Are you making a step for me?” Ash snorts, and Roger actually beams, “oh christ, alright,” though when she looks to Brian, who’s turned pink having finally figured it out, she licks her lips, “I mean it’s not the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” Brian’s turned from pink to red.

“That’s not exactly the response I was hoping for,” Roger frowned a little, and Ash laughed, making her way over to the end of the bed. Hopping up onto the ‘step’, surprisingly she was almost half a foot taller, and Roger knelt before her on the bed, coaxing her into a kiss.

“Do you need a personal invitation?” Roger asked, turning and raising an eyebrow at Brian as Ash peppered kisses down the drummer’s chest, and Brian hesitated, but got to his feet. Ash was pressing kisses to the V lines of Roger’s stomach when Brian came to rest his hand on her ass.

“Is this alright, are you okay?” He asked, tentative, hesitant, stroking his cock with his other hand. Ash laughed, though the sound was sweet, neither mocking nor sharp.

“Been waiting for this,” voice low and husky, she swayed back, on her heels, her ass pressing against his cock, and Brian swallowed thickly, not wanting to hurt her.

The height was a good though, as now she was practically at the perfect height for his cock to align with her entrance as she was bent over the edge of the bed. With her lips wrapped around the head of Roger’s cock, Brian pushed himself into her pussy so slowly it was almost painful. It’s as if she could sense he was being tentative, didn’t rush him as he eased into her, staying still, though she was already clenching around him.

The moment he’d buried himself in her, Ash had to take a moment, moving her mouth from Roger’s dick to quietly swear, to reach back and dig her nails into Brian’s thigh for a moment, before swearing again, louder this time.

“I’ve never seen you make that face,” Roger teased, and before Ash can even reply, Brian’s got his hands on her hips, moving now, pulling out gently and thrusting back into her. She can’t even formulate a response, just braces herself against the bed with one hand, pulling Roger’s hips closer to her with the other; Roger lets the moment, the teasing, go.

“You gonna get us off, love?” Roger asks, threading his finger through her hair, grip firm on her hair as she lowers her mouth onto his cock. Nodding vehemently, she can’t help the moan that escapes her as Brian starts to speed up.

She’s still so wet from coming earlier, to slide into her was easy, even for Brian, and her whines and whimpers around Roger’s cock spur him on. The moment he digs his nails into her hips, just a little, Brian knows she’s fully invested, enjoying the feeling of having hims deep inside of her, because she rocks back to meet his hips and her hands fist in the sheets where she’s leaning over.

They’re both fucking her now, hard and fast, and Ash is barely keeping herself upright, lost in the feelings, taking a moment to cup and fondle Roger’s balls as his grip is tight and he presses his cock deep into her mouth. Humming in encouragement, she swirls her tongue around the head, and Roger’s getting close, she can tell.

“That’s it, love,” she murmurs, pressing kisses down his cock as she wraps her fingers around it, her mouth finding his balls. Roger swears loudly, the moment she begins to suck, and his grip in her hair tightens, moving her head back to his cock. He’s leaning over, saying something Brian doesn’t quite catch, something about needing her, needing to be in her; either way, he gets it. The moment he comes hard down Ash’s throat, her hips stop moving as a way of steadying herself, and Brian’s gotta keep up the rhythm.

Finally spent, it seems the teasing edge has left Roger as he collapses back onto the bed, and Ash does the same, her hips moving, though she gives herself over to the way Brian’s filling her again and again, each time he buries himself inside of her, cock hitting deep and hard each time. The moment Roger’s moved back, Brian pressed a large, warm hand to the small of her back, pressing her hard into the mattress, her back arching under his touch, the new angle bringing a heady, appreciative hum from her, having moved past the point of even words and moans.

“You’re bloody gorgeous,” Brian mutters, feeling himself getting close. Ash is whispering things against the mattress that Brian can’t quite catch, and when he asks her to repeat, it comes out as a strangled whimper.

“Fuck, harder, please harder,” she moaned, and it was all Brian could do to hold her hard, nails leaving sharp indents in her hips, fucking her with all he had left in him as she all but sang his praises. When he lifts a hand to snake it between her legs, he can feel her begin to tremble.

“Come for us, come on Ash, come for us,” Brian’s words, the low gravely way in which he says them, it sends her over the edge for the second time that night, which is enough to set off Brian, who pulls out quickly, his cum hitting her back and ass as Ash trembles, held up only by the bed.

By the time Brian’s come down, having flopped himself on the bed beside her, he can feel Ash shaking beside him, and for the barest moment he’s worried he’s done something wrong, that she’s crying. But then she’s propping herself up on her elbows, laughing loud and content, grinning at Brian and then at Roger, who’s sitting against the headboard, watching them both with amusement.

“Can you guys help me to the bathroom? I need to wash and I’m afraid my legs might give out.”

By the time she’s all washed and clean, both boys are back in their respective bedrooms after an awkward conversation about how they’re never going to mention this again.

“Brian?” What he’s not expecting is a soft knock at the door, and Ash wearing a towel peering into his room.

“Everything alright? You -?” He stands suddenly from where he’d been reading a paperback before bed, already in his pyjamas. He’s worried, like he’s going to have to have the same talk he’d had with Roger, except weirder and worse somehow. Instead, she crosses the room to him, cups his jaw with one hand while holding her towel still with the other, and she kisses him gently.

“Thank you,” and it’s said with a surprisingly sweet sincerity.

“Of course,” he says automatically, mouth working on autopilot where his brain had frozen, “what are friends for, after all?” He half laughs, coming back to himself, and Ash grins, stepping away.

“Good night, Brian,” she tells him, making like she was about to head to the door, before Brian calls to her.

“Ash, can you try and keep it down from now on? It’s unfair now I know what I’m missing out on,” he half smiled, amusement shining in his eyes, grin only growing wider as Ash blushed as red as her hair.

“Get earmuffs, perv,” she pulled her towel tighter around herself, trying to suppress a smile. She leaves after that, makes her way back to Roger’s room, and the rest of the night is quiet.

It’s weird the next day, at least for Roger and Brian; Ash float around the apartment while she’s there like she’s on cloud nine, while the boys refuse to make eye contact. But then Brian makes an offhand joke about Ash’s height, about the home-made step, and Roger laughs, and Ash gets defensive about her height, but they’re both teasing her like normal, gentle and friendly, and it somehow just gets less and less weird as the days go on.

Though, if he’s being honest, Brian might never get over those little, red shorts; thank god they were torn, he’s not sure what he might offer if he saw her in them again.

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x oc #brian may #brian may imagine #brian may x oc #ash x roger x brian #ash x roger #smut #roger taylor smut #brian may smut #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bo rhap #borhap imagine #bohemian rhapsody imagine #the angry lizard writes #ask your destiny to dance fic

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early-sxnsets · 6 years ago

Text

Drunk Text

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18215168/chapters/43179500

Chapter 4/10 of It’s A Handheld Disaster

Word Count: 2002

Chapter Summary: Baz's friends get him a little drunk, which scares Simon half to death. Cue nervous spamming, best friend's advice, and a single picture.

BAZ

(strings_n_roses): gods.mistake: i dont know i guess im just scared of losing her family's attention???

My eyes scan over his text in the drop down, thumb pressing onto the screen to keep it half-showing. It's probably not a good idea to be talking to him about this right at this second, but I don't want him to feel abandoned (especially given our topic). The tiny graphic of the Instagram logo looms in the forefront of my mind even after I close my phone, thinking of a response.

A hard lemonade bottle rolls and rests against my thigh, making me look up at Dev as he pops open another. Despite calling them a “Gay drink”, he's already gone through two of them.

“Oy, you've barely had shit,” he says, twisting off the top of his third as he eyes my one half-empty bottle.

“Yeah,” Niall adds, eyebrows narrowing as he lifts his own drink. He bought an even shittier wine cooler. “Loosen up a little, you wound up dick.”

Reluctantly, I bring my bottle to my lips and swing, maintaining eye constant with Niall. Even with a weird shiver in a response, he doesn't look away. Neither do I--not until the bottle is finished. With a pop of my lips, I lower the glass and smirk. “There--happy?”

“I… guess?” He says slowly. “You okay, mate? What's wrong?”

What's wrong? What's wrong? Snow's texting me from his bathroom, too tired from crying to get off the tile, and I can't help him in any other way than to talk to him. That's what's wrong. “It's nothing. Just shit. That's all.”

Dev's foot nudges mine, making me disconcerted with their mutual care for my emotions. Usually, they just let me sulk, but tonight… tonight's odd. They're boozing me up and getting me to talk (for once).

I turn my head head away, looking towards the long, creaking window of mine. It nearly brushes the floor, and looks out upon the broad, rise and fall of our garden. The winter season leaves it beyond chilling.

“Can you open that?” I ask, voice tired as I nod towards my cousin. He blinks at me at first before rising to his feet and drawing it open. With a hand on my bed frame, I haul myself upright and onto my feet before digging through my nightstand. In the back lies a pack of cigs and a lighter I snagged from Aunt Fi's flat.

Only Dev takes one when I offer, seating myself right on the ledge. Neither of them bat an eye, except Niall's concerned staring as I lean against the frame, striking the light.

“Fine, don't answer,” he mumbles, taking back a mouthful of his drink.

I let in a drag, feeling it burn the back of my throat as I slide out my phone. Both the boys sit silently, exchanging glances as I finally type back a semi-coherent response for Simon.

The already buzzing of my head from the nicotine doesn't fully help my thoughts as much as I hoped it would.

strings_n_roses: christmas is over now, so the holidays are gone. if she weighs heavily on you because of the break up, then it isn't healthy and definitely not a pain that you deserve

strings_n_roses: and i know she drives you home, but maybe someone on your team will drive you instead if you ask

strings_n_roses: there's options other than discomfort

I suck in, turning off my phone with the app left open. The sound of Niall's shifting is nearly enough to make me want to yell. Their collective concern is barely appreciated, given it seems to be so sparse when actually needed.

In all honesty, I shouldn't blame them. I'm not in school, and they're just trying to help when they can. still, I can't shake the emptiness of their situational devotion to my feelings.

“You've been acting odd,” Dev adds first, giving me another drink. I take it, finishing my cig first. Looking at the burning end of it, I hand it out the window and crush it against the stone of the wall, leaving the butt on the sill as I climb off.

The drink is always better when you start the second one. “Just life shit. Doesn't matter,” I say, leaning back against the wall as I exhale slowly. There it is. The odd, mostly empty stomach nausea I get whenever I get to drink. Hits me harder, and makes it stronger. And almost definitely going to fuck me over, but it's only a few drinks (and I'm a lightweight, because fuck genetics).

As my eyes fall shut, I feel the jostling buzz of my notifications. Without hesitation, I pick it up and read it through as more messages slide down.

(strings_n_roses): gods.mistake: i dont really have friends on the team to drive me

(strings_n_roses): gods.mistake: or really anyone, except penny and sort of agatha, i guess

(strings_n_roses): gods.mistake: and her dad. her dad loves me

(strings_n_roses): gods.mistake: fuck im a little lonely fucker sorry im a killjoy and you're probably doing something more interesting with your life and im just ranting like an idiot fuck sorry

I ignore both Dev and Niall's looks as I attentively swipe it open, head spinning. I barely pay attention to what I'm saying, trying to get a word in before he has a chance to belittle himself further.

strings_n_roses: don't apologise at all. im heer to yell towards

strings_n_roses: after all im judt drinking im not ewally doingmuch

SIMON

My heart nearly stops, throat catching as I reread.

He's drinking. Fuck.

Vision blurring and body weak, the process of pulling myself upright makes it a battle all in itself.

The bathroom floor is filthy, but it felt like home. One minute I was standing, washing my hands silently in the sink, then I met my eyes in the mirror and crumpled onto the old, ratty bathmat. I'd just cried, a quiet sob into my wrist as the details of the room overwhelmed me. The dripping of the sink, the burning of the lights. The fear of losing Penny because I've practically lost Agatha already.

I don't even know if I miss her. I don't know if I want to miss her. I miss her family at Christmas--this was the first year since moving here without me going to the Wellbeloves for the holidays. I know I miss the way we'd sit together in silence, shoulder to shoulder and watching Doctor Who, but I don't know if I miss us.

She'd told me today that I'm too much. It's been months since the break up, but she said she still had something to say. That something, apparently, is that my life's unnecessary overwhelming, and I don't make her happy.

I told her likewise to me, even if I didn't mean it.

Maybe I did. I don't know.

I don't know anything.

I don't know why Baz is drinking. He'd told me a month or so back that he does occasionally, but he usually refrains from drunk texting. Says he doesn't like waking up to messages he didn't mean to send. I wonder what's different tonight.

I wipe my eyes, sniffling as quietly as possible as my trembling fingers tap out a response.

gods.mistake: please drink water

gods.mistake: and limit yourself. dont drink too much fuck just slow down

gods.mistake: did you eat? make sure youre eating

gods.mistake: please dont do anything stupid just please dont hurt yourself

At first, he's silent. The read receipt pops up, then stays still. Something in me thumps, then grows in strength as I struggle to breathe evenly again.

I've seen it too often. Too fast--too soon. The spiraling, the life destruction. The kids a few years older than me stashing stolen pill bottles under beds and liquor in their pillow cases.

I don't want him to hurt like that, and I can feel it already. The biting edge of coping.

My hand slides through my hair, settling amongst tangled curls as I shake. A disappearing picture from him pops up, starling me slight before I exhale, opening it.

It's his hand, the flash on it as he holds a pint sized glass of water. I can recognize it from his pictures of violin playing, scattered throughout his damned aesthetic Instagram account. It's the only part of his body I can recognize, and I know it well. Smooth on the back, and calloused fingertips with sharp jutting angles of his joins. His skin is a midtone of soft brown, like the shade of a perfect cup of tea, and his palm fades much lighter. You can tell he's some posh arse, because his nails are always trimmed and buffed.

And there they are, holding a glass of water with a crudely drawn smiley face on the screen. The room is mostly dark around it, and I can only make out hardwood floor and a thick, red carpet.

(gods.mistake): strings_n_roses: i'm okay i promise! i'm a healthy boy

(gods.mistake): strings_n_roses: :)

(gods.mistake) strings_n_roses: i’m with friends rhey’re takint xare of me i promise i an ok!

gods.mistake: ok ok im sorry for freaking out im sorry

I chew on my nail, biting around to the cuticles as my eyes squeeze shut. I'm overreacting again. I'm blowing up.

I tap out of the app and pull of my messaging, pulling my one of few conversations--Penny.

im losing it right now penn

its so stupid and youre gonna hate me but im losing it fuck me fuck shit fuck fuck fuck

You've texted your last fuck, buddy

It's the swearing police

I've come to ask for a recount of why on Earth you're sobbing

its stupid its so stupid im sorry

its baz hes drinking

and i panicked and messaged him a ton but im worried i pissed him off and he might hate me what if he hates me

fuck shit fuck

Do you have any basis on him hating you???

Did he text you all angry???

no but i feel it im stupid and i know it i feel it

First of all, stop

Second of all, if he's not angry, he's not angry

Third, why does this matter so much? You barely know him

thats not true we talk everyday

He's online, Si

You can lose him in a snap, why care?

Why do you even trust him so much you don't know what he looks like ://

i know what his hands look like

thats something

and just idk i trust him he seems to care

and we like the same stuff and i just

idk

i trust him

why are you talking about this again now

i thought we were over this

I said I was tired of you talking about Baz at lunch, I didn't say we were over the conversation

I'm just worried, that's all

Fuck knows you don't have someone else to worry about you over this, and he could just be some arse praying on you because you're vulnerable

People do that, you know

hes not some 80 year old creep penn

he seems as young as he says

and he doesnt use me or anything we just talk

im ok im safe i swear

hes just scaring me

Just be safe, Simon.

Something makes me jump, and it takes a full moment to register that it's Davy knocking around downstairs, doing whatever he does in his study. I should be in bed. He knows I should be in bed. He'll want me to be asleep, after all.

I tiptoe out carefully, knowing where the floor doesn't creak as I slip back into my room and in bed. The blanket's shit and scratchy, but it's something.

As I plug my mobile in, I send out a quick message to Baz, letting my embarrassment ease through while I swallow my pride.

gods.mistake: im sorry for freaking out

gods.mistake: sleep tight pls

#it's a handheld disaster #carry on #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #mine #snowbaz #simon snow #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #tyrannus basilton grimm-pitch #baz pitch #simon #baz #i would list everyone else but hhh effort #and i am. tired.#so here *jazz hands*

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fredheads · 6 years ago

Note

do you have anything to say about the au where fred becomes a famous musician because i would like to hear it

i have many things to say!!! not a coherent timeline so much as lots of snapshots but i have many feelings!!!

1. he leaves riverdale!! i dont remember if fred said anything in the flashback about there being a good music scene in riverdale (which... yeah right fred) but there is simply no way you can become a world famous musician without leaving your extremely small town so im thinking post grad he plays in a bunch of the small bars and stuff where the fredheads played in high school and everyone thinks they have promise but he realizes he’s going to have to head to the big city if he wants to make it so he packs up all his stuff and drives off into his very uncertain future with his guitar :’) a brave boy

2. i vibe with fp still joining the army and meeting fred again later or possibly also being part of freds band still and moving with him. either or. the band keeps changing but fp always sticks around. freds the standout act though and its clear he has something special... he gets a lot of good feedback and eventually auditions for a record label and gets an agent and a deal and all the good stuff, just him, not the band, but they still get to be part of the recording process. also he possibly changes the bands name at some point?? it becomes fred andrews and the ___ (idk what yet but ill get back to you) cuz no one in the city thinks the fredheads is funny.... rude.

3. i don’t think he’d ever change his name, but maybe he goes by freddie a lot more? and he definitely inherits a dope rock n roll nickname/moniker at some point but idk what i havent thought that far ahead. his sound is like... very john cougar, definitely bruce inspired, a lil kurt cobain. does that make sense to anyone but me? doesn’t matter. he writes a lot of songs about love but also about small town life, his relationship with his parents, oh and a lot of gay subtext. but keep it subtext. for now... his songwriting is very wholesome apple pie but also anti establishment so he appeals to a wide range.

4. he definitely gets a springsteen themed tattoo. mayb 2. and pierces the heck out of his ears. stickers all over his blue guitar... FUCK THE DRAFT pins on his studded denim vest... nevertheless he starts off as a hearthrob. the general public gets one glimpse of his big chocolate eyes and then the teen magazines are all after him.... he doesn’t let fame influence him though and he’s very mature and sweet in interviews.

5. his look starts heavy bruce inspired but eventually it comes into more of his own. he wears bruce tshirts onstage all the time :”) hes def worn flannel onstage. at first hes scared to wear makeup but then he starts busting out the eyeliner and then when he gets brave with that its not unusual for him to incorporate some glitter...

6. hes very lovely with female fans and very friendly with male fans and his agent is always wanting to arrange relationships with actresses or whatnot for PR... but he doesnt actually date a whole lot. young fred definitely flirts around and has some VERY close male “friends” he goes to clubs with but he rarely has time for anything long term and its mostly just brief relationships and hookups. you can’t take the slut outta the boy tho.... he’s always lovin someone somehow.

7. at first he’s terrified of associating himself with the lgbt+ community because he just knows hes gonna get outed and he’s not ready for that yet... but he refuses to deny rumours because he doesn’t want to disparage them either. eventually he gets more comfortable in his skin and starts speaking out for gay rights and incorporates some rainbow stickers onto his guitar :’) he gets by somehow the same way he did in high school where he’s kinda flamboyant but everyone’s so charmed by him that straight people think he’s straight. whatever works.

8. his mom and dad come to almost all of his shows!!!

9. he’s a BIG philanthropist and he’s always speaking out for social causes and writing special songs for charity.

10. hes very private about his pill addiction and he’s a functioning addict for awhile when he’s popping pills to deal with stage injuries and to keep him wired for shows. eventually he goes through rehab but its kept VERY hush hush. fps there for him the whole time... and his parents. he’s also dealing with depression behind the facade but he’s overall happy during the day to day bc he’s doing what he loves.

11. he still wants kids really bad and he meets mary (she’s his lawyer?) somehow when hes in his mid-late 20s and everyones shocked when they start dating and get married. they have archie and fred takes some time off to be a dad... but he’s still writing lots of songs and he dotes on his baby like crazy. when archie’s older and he’s touring artie and bunny watch him (artie never died cuz i say so.. but fine if he is dead then just bunny)

12. he and mary get an amicable divorce when archie’s 10 or 12... and he finally realizes that fp’s been right in front of him all this time (he’s still in freds band!!) and they finally start dating and fall in love!! fp has his own demons but they help each other through and fred starts inviting him out onto the stage to sing with him and they write songs together :’) he finally comes out publicly because he and fp want to be public with their relationship :’)’ ‘ ‘ ‘

13. he absolutely meets bruce springsteen and bruce comes to one of his shows and he makes the whole audience sing happy birthday to bruce.. and at some benefit concert or something he gets to share the stage with him and hes the happiest man in the whole world the end

#fred andrews #fredsythe

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i-think-im-entitled-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Clueless Pt5

PART ONE: https://i-think-im-entitled.tumblr.com/post/174548459651/clueless-pt1

PART TWO: https://i-think-im-entitled.tumblr.com/post/174586824126/clueless-pt2?is_related_post=1

PART THREE: https://i-think-im-entitled.tumblr.com/post/174713149071/clueless-pt3?is_related_post=1

PART FOUR: https://i-think-im-entitled.tumblr.com/post/175062657921/clueless-pt4?is_related_post=1

WARNINGS: swearing, fluff

PAIRING: Jack x Reader

SUMMARY: Jack has a nightmare that doesn’t sit well with you, so you stay with him over night. You finally dig up the courage to give Jack the flash drive, that Kelly had trusted you to pass on to him.

You took a deep breath. You hadn’t been able to bring yourself to do this yet. You knocked on Jack’s door.

“Jack?” You squeezed the flash drive in your pocket tightly. The little item that held a bond too strong to sever.

You found him cross legged on his bed, staring at nothing. He looked up once he realized it was you.

You held your voice as steady as you could, “What’re doing?”

“Waiting.” Jack stated.

You frowned, “...For what?”

“Something to do.”

“What were you doing while you were waiting?” You leaned against the door frame.

Jack turned to face the wall opposite him. It took you awhile to realized that it was a demonstration.

“You... just sat here?”

Jack turned his eyes back to you. His voice held a note of confusion, “Yes... What else am I to do?”

You smiled and listed a few things off the top of your head, “Well you can talk to us, eat, read, drink, Netflix...”

“Netflix?” Jack squinted at you, “How do you Netflix?”

You laughed, “No...” You gestured for his laptop that was on his bed side table.

As he fumbled for it, you crossed the room and sat next to him on his bed. He handed it to you, and you leaned against the head board and swung your legs up on his bed spread.

You flipped it open and brought up Netflix. You saw your profile that was lingering next to Sam and Dean’s, but made a separate account for Jack. After doing so, you scrolled around for a good series to start him off with.

You picked your favorite TV show and clicked on its pilot.

After three hours of watching, Jack was completely immersed. He asked way too many questions and paused it every time so you could answer. Even if the answer was only a few words.

You looked at his digital clock. It had been ten whole minuets since he’d asked a question. It read ten oh five.

The next twenty minuets was of Jack rubbing his eyes and yawning intensely. You paused the show and closed the laptop.

“No-” Jack cut himself off with a yawn.

“You’re tired and need sleep.” You said, reaching over him to set his laptop on his bed side. You stood and ruffled his soft hair in a childlike way.

“Night.” You said, starting to pull your hand away.

Just as it left the tips of his hair, you felt his hand take it. It was soft and innocent against your tough calloused hands.

“You’re going to sleep too?”

“No... I was going to talk to Sam for awhile... or Dean if I can find him.” Your face was heating up at his intense stare and grip.

“Oh...ok.” He let your hand fall beside you.

You closed to door behind you. You let out a breath still feeling to electric that had shot into your wrist at his touch.

You set off to find Sam, out of habit sliding a hand into your pocket. You’re heart dropped as you pulled out the tiny flash drive. You felt the need to deliver your promise to Kelly grow heavier.

It turns out that Sam was in the library, scanning the bindings of a few faded covers.

“Hey.” He acknowledged you with a nod, “How’s the kid?”

“Tired.” You shrugged, “Told him to get sleep.”

Sam huffed, as he pulled out a thick volume, “You’re not worried about him?”

You felt dread as memories rushed back, “We got him warded.”

“They went into his skin.”

You pressed your fingers to the bridge of your nose, something you did out of habit from stress, “I’ll check in on him before I crash.”

Sam snickered.

“What?”

“That’s all you’re going to do?”

“Sam!”

Dean stepped in, “What you yelling for?”

Sam chucked to himself. You glared at him in disbelief.

“Nothing.” You shook your head.

“All right.” Dean sat down next to you. “How’s Jack?”

“Sleeping, hopefully.” You said, gazing longingly at his whiskey.

Sam dropped the huge book in front of you, “Up for another round of what the hell is in this place?”

You groaned, while Dean downed the rest of drink at Sam’s comment.

You all spent the another four hours reading the damn thing. When the sinking of your eyelids became too annoying, you decided to turn in.

“All right. I quit.” You concluded. Dean already had his head on his arm and was snoring slightly.

Sam book marked his volume and closed it. You slammed yours shut harshly. Dean jumped at the sound, ready for attack.

He moaned and rubbed his hands hard on his face, “Dammit.”

You stretched, and your chair scraped back from the force of your feet. Sam stood, and you copied. You shook dean awake from his momentary doze.

“I’m going... I’m going.” He batted you away. He stumbled out, yawning.

“Goodnight, Y/n.” Sam said, watching his older brother blunder out.

“Night.” You said exiting after Dean.

Jack’s room was on the way to yours, so you took Sam’s suggestion and decided to check on him. As you approached the door, you heard a shuffling inside. You felt like a suspicious mother, waiting to catch her kids up after dark.

You stepped up to the door lightly and listened carefully. He was making a lot of shuffling noise. Then he whimpered. That provoked you to open the door.

“Jack?” You whispered to the darkness. He didn’t answer, so you pushed the door open more. You blinked trying to adjust to the light.

Jack was curled up in the fetal position under his sheets. His quilt had been kicked off the bed and was laying useless on the floor. His face was contorted into something resembling fear, and he whimpered again.

“Jack?” You tried again, but in your normal tone. He started to mumble faintly, and you approached him cautiously.

Every few mumble was coherent, “No... please... hurts... don’t touch her... stop...”

You were now standing over him, “Jack?”

His frown grew, and he started to shiver and convulse.

“Jack?” You put a hand on his bare shoulder, which was trembling and cold. “Jack!” You shook him hard.

He burst up, gagging on his yells. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he shivered intensely.

“Jack, it’s me!” You said, trying to calm him down. You rubbed his shoulder and put a hand on his cheek. His eyes met yours and recognition flooded his eyes, “It’s me.”

His breathing slowed.

“It wasn’t real, it was just a nightmare.”

His eyes glassed over. He gazed at you, still shivering madly. He put his hand up to yours that was still touching his cheek and closed his fingers around your hand. His other found its way onto your shoulder.

“Y/n?” He choked.

You looked into his eyes with concern, “Are you ok?”

He shook his head, then he seemed to remember something. He looked you over desperately.

“Jack?”

“Are you hurt?” His voice was hoarse and shaken. He eyes swept over you for another moment, it seemed like he knew where you were supposed to be hurt.

“Me?” Confusion spread through you. “No, no. I’m fine.”

He breathing softened, and he dropped his hand from your shoulder. HE still clung tightly to your other hand.

“It was just a nightmare.” He confirmed it for you.

“It wasn’t real.” You said.

He nodded slightly, still gazing into your eyes. You breathed a sigh of relief and made to leave.

He squeezed your hand and opened his mouth to say something. He closed it and opened it again.

“Can... can you stay?” Jack looked away shyly.

You heard Sam’s voice in your head, ‘That’s all your going to do?’.

You silently swore at him for always being right.

“Yeah, of course.” You shut his door, and found your way back and sat just like you did when you watched the show with him earlier. You leaned back on the head board, and you could feel his breathing, which was still shaky.

Jack was still gripping your fingers, like he was scared. You slowly pulled his hands into yours. Jack scooted closer towards you. He curled up softly against you. He skin was still cold, but very cuddly.

You slid down to his level. There was only one pillow, so you had to share. You could feel his hot breath on your neck, sending chills down your spine. You combed your fingers through his hair. He hummed slightly in comfort.

You put yours lips on the top of his head. You felt his hair tickle your neck and face softly. He looked up at you slightly, which lifted your chin. You put an arm around him and held him close. Feeling a bit vulnerable with your neck so exposed.

"I drempt about Lucifer." Jack whispered, cuddling closer.

Fear washed over you and felt all the color drain from your face.

"What?" You whispered.

"He was hurting you." You felt Jack smile. "But you're here with me. He wasn't real. I will protect you."

You mulled this a little as Jack smiled wider and snuggled closer. You could feel his body heat up.

"Did he hurt you?" You whispered.

He shook his head happily on your shoulder, "Not in real life."

You blinked a few times and looked around trying to remember what happened last night. You squinted to adjust to the still dark room, and felt something move beside you.

Right beside you.

Too close.

“Jack?!” You gasped, pushed off of his bare chest, and fell off the bed.

“Y/n. Y/n?” Jack pushed himself up and leaned over the bed to see you sprawled on the ground.

You groaned and curled up in a ball, rubbing your face.

“Are you alright?” Jack asked, sounding concerned.

“What the hell happened last night?” You muffled in your hands.

You heard Jack shuffled and get up. You racked your brain and retraced your steps to find out what happened. Then it hit you.

“We didn’t do it.” You breathed in relief.

“What?”

You sat up and took your hands off your face. You glanced at Jack for a split second, before slapping them over your eyes again.

“Jesus, Jack!” You yelled, “Again?!”

He was standing naked in front of you, just like when you first met him.

“Jesus is in the Bible.” Jack stated.

“Put clothes on!” You shouted and stood with your arm covering your face. You dashed out of the room.

Removing your arm from your face, you sprinted at full speed down the hall as quietly as you could. Sam always woke you up around eight, because the alarm on your bed side gave you horrid memories of your childhood.

You rounded a corner at top speed and crashed into Sam. He, being a brick wall, wasn’t affect much, but you toppled backwards onto your butt.

“Y/n?” Sam stifled a laugh.

“Oh! Sam!” You let your voice draw out, and it sounded guilty and slightly sing song, “What are you doing up so early?”

“It’s eleven.” He raised his eyebrows.

“That’s the longest I’ve ever slept in.” You muttered to yourself, surprised.

“Uh, yeah.” Sam offered a hand, “I noticed you didn’t make it to your bed last night.”

Your face went red, but you played it off, “What do you mean?”

“I went to check that you had made it back to your own bed, and I didn’t find you then or when we usually get up.” He said helping you off the ground, “And you wearing the same clothes.”

He had you in a corner. You opened you mouth to defend yourself, but nothing would come out.

“Jack seems like a sweet kid and-”

“Sam,” You looked him dead in the eye, “nothing happened. He had a bad dream and I accidentally fell asleep sitting next to him.”

Sam winked and nodded animatedly, “Oh yeah, sure.” He leaned to whisper in your ear, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Dean.”

“Dammit, Sam! I’m serious!” You slapped his shoulder.

He chuckled and walked past you.

“We didn’t do anything!” You called after him. Sam chuckled, which ticked you off a little, but knew he would be loyal.

You quickly slipped into your room to freshen up, before Dean could catch a glimpse of you.

You stood, hovering in front of your mirror. You locked eyes with yourself not willing to break it.

“Just give it to him. Just do it. It’s not that hard.” You sighed. Kelly needed you to give the flash drive to Jack. It had meant everything to her, and she trusted you with all her heart and soul to give the last thing she had ever done to her son.

You walked confidently out the door, and down the hall. Dean passed you and gave you a weird look.

“What...? What why are you sweating and look like you’re going to jump in front of a moving train?” He asked, stopping next to you.

“No reason!” You answered way to quickly.

“Y/n.” Dean took your arm as you tried to walk away.

You sighed, “I just have something that’s really important to me to do, and it’s been killing me for a long time now.”

“You’re getting with your ex?”

“No!” You rolled your eyes, “I just...”

“Just do it.” Dean clapped your shoulder and continued his way down the hall.

“Thanks.” You muttered, finding the longest way possible to get to Jack’s room.

You stood at his door with your hand on the knob for about three minuets. You were trying to decide if you should actually do it today. Finally, you knocked too softly for any human to hear.

“Come in.”

Shit. He’s not human.

It must have been another awkward moment, because Jack opened the door for you.

“Oh... uh hi.” You stuttered.

“Hello.” Jack had a sweet smile plastered on his face.

You instantly melted, “I need to talk to you.”

He waited expectantly.

“Not here.” You grinned. You pushed past him into his room, silently praising everything that he had clothes on this time.

You took his arm and sat down with him on his bed. You didn’t feel the need to let go and held onto him, mainly to keep yourself motivated to say what you needed to.

“Listen Jack-”

“Thank you.”

You were taken aback, “Wait what?”

“For last night.” Jack grinned at you.

“No, no. I’m not here to talk about that.” You pulled out the flash drive, “It’s about this.”

Jack tilted his head in confusion, “What is it?”

“A flash drive.” You took his laptop from his pillow and set it on his lap. You inserted the drive and opened it.

Kelly’s face appeared on the video thumb nail, which made your throat close up.

“You’re... uh... mom,” You chocked out, “trusted me to show you this. She loved you with all her heart.”

You pressed play, and as soon as her voice met your ears, you had to get out of there. You let out a huge sigh as the burden was lifted off you shoulders.

You waited outside for about thirty minuets, listening to the faint sound of Kelly’s voice.

Then it stopped. You held your breath to make sure it wasn’t just a long pause in speech, but instead heard footsteps. You stood quickly as Jack burst from his room.

Tears were streaming down his red cheeks. He caught sight of you and barreled into a hug. Shocked, you stood there for a second before wrapping your arms around him tightly.

“That was my Mom.” His voice cracked.

You rubbed his back gently and rested your head on his shoulder.

“She said she loves me.”

“She does Jack.” You smiled. “She really does.”

“Thank you.” He pulled away and looked into your eyes. “Thank you.”

TAG LIST: @greenqueerqueen @weirdoblogger69 @iamburdened @sendthenoods @colie87 @jaythenephilim @squirrellover1967 @controloffandoms @lostnliterature

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ninetiesmanic · 7 years ago

Text

My Reckless Northsider

A/N : OH MY GOSH im super nervous to be posting an imagine on here for the first time ever. I would really appreciate it if you guys send me feedback on it . umm i think ive cleared everything and oh obviously the gif is not mine and yea i hope you guys enjoy it!

Part 2

“You really think you can just barge in there and not expect anything bad to happen? ” His eyes were ablaze as he towered over you. In any other situation you would be able to keep your cool but you really did not appreciate being talked to like this.

“How stupid can you b-” You cut him of fist clenched at your sides as you glowered at him.

“Look I don't understand why you're so angry. I was just trying to help Archie before he got himself killed!”

“You were trying to help?! Are you out of your mind,” You took a step back momentarily taken aback by his outburst. It occurred to you that the space between you and him was barely existent and from this close up you could see every line of emotion on his face. Eyes narrowed,a evident frown on his lips. It didn't take much to figure out he was pissed.

So understandably it was sort of stupid to storm into ghoulie territory and wave a gun in there face but you would never admit that out loud. In your defense you were being heroic and trying to save Archie from yet again doing something very stupid. Once you had fired the gun and a bunch of furious eyes stared your way you knew in a way you had screwed up. So admittedly you were very much relieved when Sweet Pea and other serpents had shown up to save you guys from a very dangerous situation.

“Are you even listening to me?”

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms on your chest meeting his fuming eyes head on. “I was listening but it occurred to me that I don't appreciate being berated like im a child Sweet Pea.”

“Y/N, are you listening to yourself, you a northsider ,made the idiotic decision to walk into ghoulie territory and you're telling me you don't want to be berated like a child”

You looked away from him not comfortable with the way his dark eyes gazed at you intently.

“Look can't we just move on from this? It already happened so let it go,” you sigh running your hands through your hair in frustration. This argument was starting to irk you.

“No we cant.” he practically screams in your face and you were very close to telling him to calm the fuck down. It wasn't fair that Archie got of the hook with his friends leaving you to get chastised by a very upset serpent.

You groaned in frustration meeting his eyes once again. “Why does it even matter what could've happened Sweet Pea, im not hurt,” You say trying hard to end the argument.

However this only seemed to make him angrier as he slammed his fist into the wall beside your head.

You looked at him in horror as the sound of his fist hitting the wall echoed between you two.

“What the hell Pea” you scream out half worried for his hand and other half scared shitless.

“What if I wasn't there Y/N, anything could have happened to you,” you open your mouth ready to dispute but got caught off guard as his large hands came up to grab your chin drawing your face closer to his.

“You wanna know why I am angry Y/N? Its because you do the stupidest,most reckless things that endanger your live as if its not of importance to you.”

“Thats rich coming from you,” you manage to mutter out.

“You're right I shouldn't be the one to tell you that, but I am a southsider I don't get the same opportunities as you do.You can't keep risking what you have.”

Your jaws clenched in annoyance and you made it clear as you pulled his hands away from your face. “Fuck you Sweet Pea you don't know anything about me. So I made a stupid decision. What has that got to do with you? You're not my boyfriend so stop acting like you are!”

Something shifted in his eyes and for a moment you felt breathless from the way he looked at you in that instant. You were aware of how close he was to you, chest heaving from all the yelling that transpired and his shoulder hunched a little just so you guys are face to face. His eyes shifted from you eyes to your lip, his pupils dark as they focused on you.

“You have no idea how crazy you're driving me.” he says, voice deep and rough in ways that left your body tingling in anticipation.

“God I wish I didn't care about you as much as I do, I'm a serpent my loyalties lie with them not some bratty northsider.” he seethed and you hated how your body chose to respond to him. What the fuck was happening.This couldn't happen between you two. You swallow nervously and bring your hands up to push him off of you.

He didn't budge at first eyes still watching me intensely. “Sweet Pea….Move” you whisper breathlessly. Whatever was happening needed to stop right now.

After a moment he pulls back away from you. You let out a shaky breath and cast your eyes away from him trying to break whatever spell they were putting you under.

“I’m,” you stop trying to gather yourself. “I'm gonna go” you say finally.

“I'll take you home,”

You jump to argue as you also took in the sight of his bruised fist.

“Pea it-”

“Y/N i'm not leaving you alone,” he states matter of factly. You sigh and nod in defeat really not in the mood to argue anymore.

To say the ride to your house was awkward was an understatement. It seemed your body was still hyper aware of Sweet Pea and it felt uncomfortable have places of your body pushed up against his. As soon as you reached your house you practically leapt off in happiness.

“Well thanks for the ride im just gonna um go inside,”your words came out frantically conveying just how much you wanted to get away from him.

“Y/N wait,” his voice managed to root you in place as you dreaded whatever words he would mutter out next. You turned around and decided looking at your fidgeting fingers would be safer than his alluring eyes.

“Look at me,” he demands lightly. You breathe out bracing yourself for whatever was going to happen next.

“What?” you say defiantly meeting his eyes or maybe the space between his eyebrows. Gosh you felt pathetic.

“I think what you did was reckless,” you sigh already sick and tired of the same argument.

“Wait just listen,” he stands up from his motorcycle and you not so subtly take a step back.

You did not need a repeat of what happened earlier. You and him were barely friends so you didn't understand what brought on this new development in you guys’s relationship but you needed it to stop. Guys like Sweet Pea who were not used to being in serious relationships were something you would always try to avoid.

“I know i'm not your boyfriend, i'm not even sure if we are friends but that doesn't stop me from caring about you. You need to stop putting yourself in dangerous situations. You can end up getting seriously hurt.” He says staring deeply into your eyes.

You felt the urge to look away again but didn't want him to think he affected you.You also did not want to dwell on the fact he said that he cared about you. A part of you however was happy he had even uttered those words. Sweet Pea had always been somewhat emotionally detached so having him say that to you made you feel special.

“Okay fine i'll admit what I did was...stupid so i'm sorry. Okay. There I said it. Happy?” You declare in defeat. This argument was honestly tiring you out and you just wanted to forget this day ever happened.

“I would be happier if we hugged it out,” His lips stretch into his signature smirk as he spreads out his arms and for a moment you were happy about the familiarity it brought.Your relationship was always one that was carefree and fun, you guys never labelled it as friendship or anything further than that but then again it never felt necessary.

“In your dreams sweet cheeks,” you say jokingly.

“That could be arranged.” he jokes back crossing his arms and your eyes are drawn to his bruised fist.

“If we still are on the topic of stupid and reckless actions let's talk about you punching the wall,” you say pointedly. He shrugs sheepishly momentarily appearing somewhat embarrassed for the reckless action.

“You wanna come in so I can bandage that up“ you ask already pulling out your house keys from your jacket pocket.

“I dont think thats a good idea,” the roughness in his tone catches you off guard.

You swallow nervously but try to play off the change in mood “Why not? Afraid you won't be able to control yourself around me “ you half joke.

“Something like that,“ for some reason the answer left you excited and angry at the same to the point that you couldn't respond to him.

“I guess i'll see you around,“ he says getting back on his motorcycle and you found yourself unable to formulate coherent sentences and just watched as he sent a smug smile your way before riding away.

Somehow you feel infuriated, that sneaky bastard knew what he was doing.

#sweet pea imagine #sweet pea #sweetpea imagine #riverdale imagine #riverdale angst #riverdale fluff #sweet pea ansgt #sweet pea fluff #sweet pea angst #sweetpeaimagines

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bxebxee · 7 years ago

Note

ok and i know yr on break so dont feel pressured to answer or anything!! and im sorry for writing a whole novel in yr inbox, i was trying to figure out how they might build up to actual penetrative sex and i got rlly invested 😳

omg do you know how much i love you!!!!!! I hope EVERYONE clicks on the read more because you are the best anon!!!!! I bolded and underlined my favorite bits and wrote a tiny thing at the end because you’re the BEST. I haven’t felt this rush-inspired in such a long time!!! Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank youuuuuuuuuuuuu!!!!!!!!!!

becky i was thinking ab yr nj humiliation drafts ([one] [two] [three] [four] [five] [six]) and how they might progress and i started thinking ab rope bondage and how at first she was too nervous to touch him but once she gets more comfortable its all she wants to do!! but hes worried bc of how restrained/repressed shes been in the past and to keep her from jumping the gun he starts tieing her up?? (1/5)

and its small things at first like restraining her hands behind her back so she wont touch him or herself while he makes himself cum (and then maybe if shes good and doesnt complain he’ll let her ride his fingers to get off, hers still tied behind her back. or if hes feeling mean he makes her grind herself against a pillow or the arm of his couch while he watches) (2/5)

and some mornings he’ll have her come over and strip so he can tie her up and then redress over the knots and spend the rest of the day like that under her clothes (esp patterns where the ropes pull straight up between her legs) and when he takes them off at the end of the day and hes rubbing her down where the skin mightve chaffed shes way more affected than she thought she’d be and comes untouched? (3/5)

and then one day when they both have a free day he spiral ties her legs and restrains her arms behind her and then after he makes sure shes comfortable and knows her limits he just- leans back on the bed and starts reading his book like she isnt tied up and at his mercy right next to him? (4/5)

and when he finally puts down his book after what feels like forever instead of doing anything right away he throws back to how this all started and tells her if she wants him to touch her tonight shes going to have to tell him exactly what she wants from him in excruciating detail. and before she can even think about it, this barely coherent, desperate plea for him to just fuck her escapes. and then after shes calmed down and can speak properly he does exactly as she asks. (5/5)

You’re nearly in tears when Namjoon puts his book down - finally, fucking finally. You hate crying in front of anyone because there’s always so much snot that goes into production. It’s the furthest thing from pretty or ladylike or decent. You don’t want to show Namjoon that side of you just yet.

There is an ache that’s been building at your core for quite some time that’s exacerbated by the numbness you feel at your legs and hands. It’s not the most uncomfortable thing in the world, but people have a tendency to overlook the importance of fidgeting in every day life. You know that you certainly didn’t know how much you missed simple movement until Namjoon tied you up and allowed you to “relax” for a hot second.

At first it felt fine - good even. He asked you a million questions about your comfort, and it just felt like you were laying down. And you might have been able sleep were it not for the itch on your nose that bloomed unexpectedly.

It’s the small things in life that set you off, and fixation over a small itch made you desire free hands like nothing else. The only way you could get over it was to focus on Namjoon reading silently at his desk, feet propped up as he concentrated on the book before him.

He looked so good, so perfect - all long limbs and careless expression of height for no reason. His fingers turned a page and your mouth went dry. You had never been jealous of paper before in your life.

You could have begged him to scratch your nose for you, but it seemed like such a silly reason to interrupt his reading. And it wasn’t until he made eye contact that you were pushed into some weird territory of desire. But Namjoon didn’t stop reading. You knew he was actively absorbing whatever it was he was reading because he had his literature face on - scrunched eyebrows that moved expressively as he took in the text.

Your boyfriend is a pervert, but so are you. By the time your mind has sent you to and from four different fantasy trips, each involving Namjoon’s pretty cock, your lips are dry from sucking in too much air. It’s a sharp contrast to the way your panties feel.

He puts his book down, and your heart races.

“You’re so obvious,” he says, eyes dripping with fondness.

“I’m not hiding anything,” you tell him, sincere and horny. “I want you so bad.”

And Namjoon is overjoyed really, and so, so proud that you’ve come this far. You admit things to him, but more importantly, to yourself without shame. You’re the same woman he met, but he’s pretty sure you’re a bit happier.

Namjoon pushes because that’s what he’s good at.

“I can tell,” he replies, undoing a few buttons of his shirt. He’s about ninety-nine percent sure he’s going to make you cum tonight. “But I’m not going to touch you until you’re more specific.”

You moan, biting your lip as your arousal grinds a heavy ax on your core.

“You need to tell me every, little detail,” Namjoon orders, “or I’m not doing anything.”

It’s excruciating the way you open your lips for nothing to come out. Speak, your mind begs. You’ve just had four delicious fantasies for material, and yet there’s a disconnect between your mind and your mouth. All you can think about is the lump in his pants covering his cock, and the way that cock felt in your dreams.

And you’ve done everything with him except actual, vaginal, penetrative sex. Namjoon makes your jaw hurt and your throat raw whenever you suck at him, and not a day goes by when you don’t think about how sore your vagina would feel with him stretching you out. Just two of his fingers feel like the end of the world for you.

Despite your reservations about penetration, you want to experience it. You want Namjoon to experience it. You’ve watched so much porn together - you seated on his lap with one of his long fingers shoved up your pussy while the two of you viewed some girl getting pounded by a well-endowed man. Every time you pictured Namjoon would one day try fucking you just like that.

A whine escapes your throat as the images are too clear in your mind. Namjoon has you face down on the bed in your fantasy, spreading apart your asscheeks with two hands to scrutinize your holes. He’s picking one to fuck and settles on rubbing his cock against your filthy slit weeping with arousal.

Namjoon in real life is patient as he sees you working up the courage. You waited for him as he read, and he could most certainly wait for you.

“Fuck me,” you whisper, and the expletive sounds like a gunshot even though your tone is softer than feathers. You close your eyes. “F-fuck me… ngh.” And in your head, the fantasy of Namjoon sinking in and using you until he’s satisfied play out again and again until the only things that come out of your mouth are sad little begs.

Namjoon still waits, taking in the show you’re putting on for him because it’s not every day you fantasize about him right in front of his eyes. He likes to watch you think things through.

You take long, shuttering gasps of air to calm the fuck down because you need to talk if any of this had a snowball’s chance in hell of coming true. And after some tens of seconds go by where the only thing you do is think of absolutely nothing, you are finally able to open your eyes and dislodge the stopper between brain and mouth.

“I wish you would untie me first,” you start. It’s not a question or a request. “Then undress me. Undress yourself. Touch me.”

“Slow down,” Namjoon chuckles. “You’re skipping all the good stuff.”

“All I want is for you to spread me open with those big hands of yours and shove your cock in whatever hole you want,” you continue as if he never said anything. You didn’t care about going through what he wanted because this is your fantasy, and he’s just here for the ride.

“Keep going.”

Good, you think. Namjoon is playing along.

“You’re going to choose my pussy.”

“Interesting that I have no say in my own choice.”

“Shut up.”

Namjoon’s heart seems to stutter in its beating, and he can tell you’re also surprised by your own outburst. He’s almost scared that you’re going to backtrack and take it back, because you were doing so good so far.

“Um,” you pause, “yeah… shut up.”

He can’t help but to smile when you forge ahead, and he zips his lips like the obedient boyfriend he wants to be for you.

“You go in slow just to test me. First the tip to see if I can take it at all. And then you push right in even though it feels like I’m going to spit you out.”

This is exhilarating. Your mind provides words for you easily, as if you’re lying down in bed with your phone in hand typing out something naughty for Namjoon. It feels just like that moment of freedom, and you relish it.

“You don’t go slow,” you say with a laugh. “You’re fucking me for you.”

“Stop right there,” Namjoon interrupts. “I’m going to untie you.”

“Thank you.”

It doesn’t take long for Namjoon to remove the ties and toss them off the bed. He massages your arms and legs to help with the circulation and holds you as you shake from the pins and needles shooting its unpleasantness up and down your body.

“Is it going to be tonight?” Namjoon asks. “Because we don’t have to.”

You smile, a little teary because the pain was real after the ties were loosened. “I really want it to be tonight.”

Namjoon kisses your forehead.

“Okay.”

#answered #drafts #best anon

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