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webslingingslasher · 1 year

Text

Crush

Genre: fluff

Word count: 6k

Summary: you like peter, he doesn't get it. until you confide in spider-man

i hope you guys like this, i've been really really busy at work but i'm working on my other fic i promise.

You didn’t know Peter Parker was Spider-Man.

To be fair, no one really knew. Tony Stark knew because he knows everything, May knows because she walked in on him in the suit, so did Ned, and MJ found out on her own, because, well, she knows everything. So enter in you, a girl who moved into the city and got into a smart kid school. Almost immediately you befriended MJ, you sat next to her in English and noticed her head stuck in a book. You leaned over into her space, you saw her tense up and smiled at her eyes peeking at you through the corners.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m new here and I want to die in a falling elevator, what about you?”

MJ peered at you and smirked, she stuck out a hand to shake yours.

“Hi, I’m MJ. I’m old here and I’m still trying to decide.”

You two have been friends since.

“No, you’re not getting it Ned! I dare you to ask Betty, that is if she’ll still talk to you.” Peter grinned at his friend and laughed when Ned threw a spork at him. Ned and Betty were in their usual weekly dispute, usually something dumb but slightly significant.

“Are you just mad I have a girlfriend that gets mad at me?” Ned teased back. He did feel like he had the upper hand, being honest he always thought Peter would have all his firsts, well, first. But Ned was collecting the firsts while Peter kept to himself.

Peter scoffed at the assumption, “No way man, If I was a boyfriend I would never pick a fight. I’d be a good boy and listen.” He hummed and shot his eyes to yours, you were already looking at him.

“Right, Y/N?” He shot a wink at you and you froze, was that real? Was he actually talking to you?

Peter Parker is beautiful. You’re not sure when you liked him, actually you think you always have. The second you met him you felt pulled to him, you couldn’t stay away from him. Subconsciously you walked the longer loop around the school to peek at him at his locker, and you always laughed at his jokes, and you made constant eye contact when you weren’t staring at his mouth.

His brown curls laid over his forehead, you remember last week he was talking about getting it cut, and you frowned at him and said ‘absolutely not, if anything you should grow it longer’, you can’t help but notice it hasn’t been cut yet, and he is looking more tempting by the day. Maybe two more weeks and you could have an excuse to run your hand through it, tell him you noticed it was in his eyes and you were just helping.

Even MJ knew, you think Ned and Betty have an inkling. When the four of you were together they loved to talk about Peter, except they would only praise him. He has the ultimate wingmen even if he didn’t know it. And speaking of not knowing, he had no clue you were into him. It’s not like you’ve been straightforward but you also didn’t hide it. You always made flirty comments towards him, and he would usually smile shyly and brush it off.

“How did you think you did on Mr. Tusks test? I think I did fine.” He once asked during a passing period, you made a show of looking him up and down, “Oh trust me, you’re fine.” Peter rolled his eyes and then asked if you had heard about Kayte and Brendon.

“Can you do me a favor?” Peter asked while you and the rest of the group met at his house for a study session before PSATS, looking over at you from his shoulder at the kitchen table. You stepped closer and grabbed his bicep, “Trust me, I’d do anything for you, Peter.” MJ let out a quiet ‘oooh’ and Peter flushed, he cleared his throat and held up some crumpled paper. “Can you throw these away for me, please?”

You wrapped your hand around the paper in his and let your fingers rest against his palm for a moment, you looked in his eyes and pouted. “Aw, that’s all?” He looked at MJ for help, she instead looked at you and smirked with a slight nod to her head. You met her with a similar smirk and walked away to the trash can.

Then that time at the movies you hopped around Ned to steal the spot next to Peter, “Dibs! If anyone is gonna get cuddly with Peter it’s gonna be me.” You pushed Ned’s shoulder to prove your seriousness when his jaw dropped open, he sputtered but then slunk to the seat next to you. Peter joked to ease the tension, “There’s enough of me to go around,” you looked at him and smiled, “but most of you is mine, right?” Peter went to respond but the lights dropped and the trailers started.

You almost thought he made a move, almost.

During the movie he lent into your ear, his warm breath sent goosebumps down your spine. “Hey.” You turned your head and almost stopped breathing, his face was right against yours, if he lent up half an inch your lips would meet. You wondered if this was the moment, all the flirting was for something. “Yeah?” You whispered back, you looked between his eyes and mouth, he caught you looking at his lips and watched you lean in a tad closer. “Can I get a sip of your slushie?”

His grin was highlighted in the blue light of the theater screen. You grumbled and thrust the plastic cup at his chest, “Not how I imagined swapping spit with you in a movie theater, but I guess it will do.” Peter nodded absentmindedly while his attention was on the screen, and you might have maybe, just for a second, thought about punching him in the ribs.

And right now he was asking you if he would be a good boyfriend.

“Are you kidding me Parker? You’re the definition of boyfriend material.” You matched the grin he gave you and he shot a HA! At Ned.

“Told you! And when I finally find a girlfriend I’m gonna be the best boyfriend.” He made a cocky grin at Ned that let him know he won the fight. Your ears were ringing, did he just say? He couldn't have. No way he’s that dumb.

You slap your palms on the table and narrow your eyes at him, “What do you mean find a girlfriend?”

“Oh! You know, when I finally have a chick that’s into me.” He shrugged, so casual. Did he think you were just playing around?

“When you have a chick, into you.” You repeated the words slower and watched him nod his head and take a sip of chocolate milk.

MJ hid her snort under a cough, you turned to look at her, silently saying ‘is he for real right now?’ and MJ gave a look back that said ‘oh i think he is.’

You kissed your teeth, “and tell me Peter, how the fuck would you know when a girl is into you?”

His eyes widened for a second, “Uh, I dunno. I think if she likes me she’ll make it known.”

You laughed dryly, “Or she can make it known and you’re just totally oblivious.”

Peter thought for a moment and hummed, “No, I think I’d know.”

You looked at MJ with a wide mouth.

“Okay. Fuck this, I’m out.” You grabbed your backpack off the table and stomped out the cafetera doors.

“Did I say something to make her mad?” Peter missed the look MJ and Ned shared.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Peter couldn’t help but feel guilty, he didn’t know what he did but he’s almost sure he made you upset. And he would normally never interfere with Spider-Man but he’s the one that saw you tossing pebbles and crushed cans at a brick wall down an alleyway. So he had to make sure you were okay, just doing his civilian duties.

“Fucking stupid, oblivious, what does he want me to do? Fucking show up at his house naked?” You mumbled to yourself and kicked a cardboard box, sending it into the side of a dumpster.

You heard something drop behind you, spinning to the sound you were met with the masked vigilante seen across the city. You had never seen him in person, not even a glimpse when you were walking around. You were starting to believe he was a figment of people's imagination.

You narrowed your eyes, you didn’t know or care why he was there.

“Fuck off, Spider-Man.” You turned to throw another rock at the wall and watch it bounce off, just like all your attempts with Peter. That frustrating prick.

“Bad day?”

He didn’t leave and he just brought a shit storm apun himself.

You spun to face him again, “You have no idea.”

“Tell me about it.” Maybe you would slip why you were pissed at lunch.

You looked him up and down and tapped a finger on your chin, “Do you take hits?”

“Like punches? I mean I try-”

You cut him off, “No. I mean if I tell you to beat someone up would you do it?”

Peter’s eyes widened in the mask, but then collected himself.

“Maybe, it depends why you want them beaten up.”

“Because he deserves pain.” You threw another rock.

“Who’s he?” Peter had a feeling it was himself.

You groaned and rubbed at your eyes, you paused to think of the story and decided to tell the whole thing to make sense.

“Are you like a therapist or something?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like patient doctor confidentiality. I can tell you anything and no one knows?”

Peter thought to himself, he had never viewed himself that way but he sees how some may think of him like that. Just a random guy to dump their shit unto.

“Sure, yeah. I won’t go screaming from the rooftops about your bad day with ‘he’.” He used air quotes around the ‘he’ and smiled when he made you laugh.

“Alright, cool.” You nodded and paused after rubbing the bridge of your nose, then finally looking into the white masked eyes of Spider-Man.

“You brought this on yourself. Okay look, I’m new here right? Moved here from Manhattan, and got into this, like, super smart kid school.” You watched the masked face nod.

“And I met this girl on my first day and she’s super cool and she tells me she’s gonna introduce me to her friends, and I was super excited to make friends, right?” You watched him to make sure he was listening, “And sorry for the next part, if you’re like a thirty year old guy just understand I am a horny teenager and you were once me, okay? Okay.”

“So I met her friends, Ned and Peter. And let me tell you, Peter? Wow! Look, I’ll level with you. I’ve liked dudes before, maybe even kissed a few, who’s to know?” Peter froze for a moment, did you just hint at what he thinks?

“But, Peter? I have literally never wanted to hump someone's face until I saw him.”

Peter coughed then cleared his throat, his cheeks felt on fire.

He knows you’ve always said things to him, he knows it was flirty but he didn’t realize you were being serious, cause he was him, and you were you. Peter never had that aha moment where he realized you were in fact flirting and did like him like that. He now wants to curl in shame because of the way he’s blown you off for so long, he doesn’t know why he thought you were always playing around with him, especially now. Because you only ever told Peter, you wanted Peter.

Peter feels really dumb right now watching a girl he never thought he could pull, in distress because he is in fact, not pulling her.

“I don’t know how to explain it but I felt so pulled to him, I hadn’t known him for twelve seconds and I wanted to know everything about him, you know? And I’ve tried everything, man. I don’t know how much more clear I can get, I mean I flirt with him all the time. Like, all the time. I literally told him I wanted to make out with him at the movies and he was just like… But can I get some of that slushie? I wanted to kill him and then myself.”

You noticed the wide eyes on the mask but held up a hand to continue.

“And today! My god I really thought he got it, get this, the fucker,” You exclaimed the fucker. “This fucker looks at me, dead in the eye and says ‘I’d be a good boyfriend right?’ and I was like ‘Oh my god, yes. You are literally perfection, look at you. So handsome, such baby, I will die if I don’t kiss you.’ And he goes, and I cannot make this shit up, ‘when I finally find a girlfriend I’ll be the best boyfriend.’” You mocked his voice, well not Peter’s, but a general man's voice.

“Oh.” The first response you’ve heard from him yet.

You laughed bitterly. “Oh, I’m not even at the part that made me fly off the wall.”

Peter knows what you’re talking about.

“At this point I just thought he was his normal little dumb self but when he said that? Game over. So I said, ‘how the fuck would you know when a girl is into you?’ just like that too, and he goes,” You paused to laugh again and shake your head, “‘I think if she likes me she’ll make it known.’ How fucking disconnected is he from reality? I wonder what it would be like to be in his head, really. Just a fuckton of open space huh? Anyways, I just told him that maybe she is making it known and he’s just not paying attention and he goes, ‘hmm, nope. I’d think I know.’ I couldn’t take it and just walked out.”

You finished up your rant, “So, in conclusion. Fuck Peter Parker, but also, I want to fuck Peter Parker. It’s hard being 17.”

For the first time Spider-Man was speechless. He didn’t know how to navigate this because he wanted to take your side but also didn’t want to throw Peter under the bus. When he noticed you were waiting for a response he let out a ‘Wow.’

“Well, wow.” He was still trying to find words.

“I know right? I told you, you brought this on yourself.” You sat against the brick wall and pulled a quarter from your pocket running it across your knuckles. Spider-Man moved to sit next to you.

“I know you say you’ve been forward but maybe he thinks you’re joking, or maybe he didn’t see it like that because he thought you wouldn’t like him like that.”

“Babes, you have no idea how much I like him like that.”

“Right. I mean, maybe give it another shot, you never know.” He shrugged his shoulders, who knows? Peter may even ask for a date next time you talk.

“Oh, you think I’m giving up?” You raised an eyebrow at him. “No way, if anything this makes him even more attractive. Who doesn’t like a good chase? I will tell you my next method was just popping up at his place like, you, me, lets fuck, right here, right now.”

“Chasing is only fun if you catch them in the end. And I doubt this Peter kid would ever give into that method, you’d scare the shit out of him.” You sighed and thought about it. “You’re right, he would respect me too much. It’s gross how much I love that.” You watched the quarter roll across your middle knuckle and held it tightly.

You leaned a cheek against the hero’s shoulder.

“Don’t beat up Peter Parker. He’s a sweet boy, just a little unaware.”

“Although, if he doesn’t wake up to smell the bacon next time we talk I’m sending you a smoke signal and his address and I won’t let you leave until I see blood.”

Peter let out a big laugh, “Deal.”

You stood up and brushed off your butt then reached a hand out to help Spider-Man up.

“Thanks for talking me off the ledge. Here’s a tip.” You tossed the quarter in your hand towards the red glove.

Peter nodded and gave a two finger salute, “Just doing my job ma'am, I am the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man after all. I’ll look around for you, I hope I get a Peter update soon.”

You smiled at the hero once more.

“Me too.”

You watched as he took off and started to walk home, not even twenty minutes later a text came through.

hey, sorry if i made you upset at lunch today.

It's fine, I'm sure you’ll make it up to me.

yeah, i’ll show you how sorry i can be.

And hell if your breath didn’t hitch. Did he just flirt with you? There is no way in God’s green earth did he just send a text like that not knowing how you’d take it. Did he finally wake up and smell the roses? Did the behavior at lunch kick in a thinking cell?

Either way, you couldn’t wait for school tomorrow.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Walking in the doors you rubbed the palm of your hand over your cold nose, the temperature was slowly reminding you summer was over and the nips of frost and changing leaf colors proved it. You were excited for fall and winter, you would have friends to go to a halloween party with, maybe even get to wear a couples costume with Peter if it worked out for you. You would trickle into thanksgiving and then have a whole season for cookies, movies and snow fights. A part of you couldn’t help but think about Peter's eyes sparkling in the christmas lights.

Peter’s head darted up at you the second you walked through the door, his teeth nibbling his bottom lip. He wasn’t sure what to say, or if he should say anything. Does he wait for you to say something? Does he walk up and ask you on a date?

Either way you were about to walk past him, you looked preoccupied, in your own world. You were nibbling on your thumb nail, lost in your thoughts about Peter, and the weather, and Peter, and snow, and carving pumpkins with Peter, and the way leaves would crunch under your feet, and then floated to central park and walking hand in hand with Peter, and kissing Peter under a tree, or maybe he’d take you to rockefeller plaza and ask you to be his girlfriend there, and you just know in your heart Peter would always give you extra whipped cream on your hot chocolate.

You were so lost in thinking about Peter you didn’t see Peter.

Not until he jumped in front of you.

“Hey!” He smiled and it made your eyes go hazy.

“Peter.” You let out dreamily, still stuck in daydreams where he was yours.

“Whatcha thinking about?” His grin gave away he knew, but you know he didn’t.

“Would you give me extra whipped cream on hot chocolate?”

“Oh yeah. I’d even throw in some mini marshmallows and a cinnamon stick. Or do you like peppermint more?”

You fawned at his response, he was so gentle it warmed you.

“Would you carve pumpkins with me?” You looked at his locker.

“Why not? Seems fun.” He tapped his fist against your shoulder.

“I would need your help, cause I’m good at getting the guts out but the actual carving part hurts my hand because I have to use so much force. So I could draw a design and you could cut it for me, cause you're way stronger than me.”

“Why are you good at getting the guts out?” He poked a finger at your elbow to get your attention back on his face.

You bit your bottom lip and changed topics.

“Have you ever walked through central park?”

I mean, if Peter thinks about it he’s spent a fair amount of time there, but he’s not roaming around. He’s swinging around or stopping crime or running after someone, so he guesses not. He’s never walked through the park and enjoyed it, he thinks he did it a few times as a kid but he can’t remember the last time he went.

“As a kid, I haven’t been in a while.”

“I think it would be really pretty to walk through it when the leaves all change.”

“I love the feeling of the leaves crunching under my feet.”

“Me too! As a kid I used to build leaf forts and just roll around for hours.” You smiled brightly at the shared feeling.

“We could go sometime, just say when. We could even get the group together.” He winked playfully but dropped the grin when he saw the disappointment flash in your eyes when he added the friends part. You didn’t want a group trip, you wanted a Peter trip.

“Or it could be just a you and me thing, I think I could use some one on one time with you.” Peter retracted his earlier statement. Your eyes lit up at his suggestion, “really? You do?”

“Yeah, of course. I love talking to you.” He smiled and watched you bite your bottom lip as you stared at his.

“Anything fun happen yesterday? I didn’t see you after lunch.” Was he possibly hinting at you talking about him to him? Yes.

“Uh,” You trailed and thought about telling him, scared if you said too much he’d ask details.

“You know, I started to believe Spider-Man was a mass hallucination, turns out he’s a real guy. Kinda cool.”

Peter raised his eyebrows, “You suddenly came to that belief yesterday?”

“Well I mean, you know. He was like, there. And was like, hey.” You gave a general response and shrugged your shoulders.

“He was just there and said hey?” He slowly repeated the words back.

“Hey! He promised he wouldn’t talk about what we discussed and I will promise the same. We had a nice conversation about someone close to me and he gave me a little pep talk.” You defended your stance.

“Like patient doctor confidentiality?” He was having a little fun here.

“Exactly! It was true alleyway therapy. I even gave him a quarter for his troubles.” You crossed your arms and grinned, it was funny how good you felt after talking to him yesterday. Maybe exploding emotions on a third party stranger was good.

“Sounds like you have a crush on Spidey.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “If he was here right now, and heard that coming from your mouth? He would have a fucking field day, I promise you that.”

Peter raised his eyebrows in coyness.

“From me? Sounds like he knows something, was I maybe the close person you had a conversation about?”

Your cheeks felt warm, you were on the spot. You always hinted at your crush on Peter but you were kind of pussy to outright say it so you hoped he would catch on and ask you out. But now you didn’t know how to react, you had said too much and backed yourself into a corner.

You opened your mouth to play off a response when the bell for first period rang out, you let out a breath of relief and smiled at Peter.

“Saved by the bell.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------

You were begging Spider-Man was out, looking around where he had dropped down yesterday.

Things have progressed with Peter and you promised him an update, it was just about keeping him in the loop. It had nothing to do with getting to fantasize and romanticize you and Peter’s interactions.

Jumping in excitement you saw him standing on the corner of the same building you were hiding behind yesterday, hands on his hips with his head turned the opposite way.

“Spider-Man!” You whisper shouted.

“Hey! Spidey!” You raised your tone some.

“Yo! Spider-boy!” You picked up a pebble and threw it up the building.

Getting his attention the hero looked behind him then pointed at himself with a thumb, “me?” You rolled your eyes, “yes, you. C’mere.” Watching him jump down and land in a squatted pose you couldn’t help but think about how fucked up your ankles would’ve been if you tried it.

“Peter update, bitch. I don’t have another quarter on me, so this will have to be on the house.”

“I kept it.” He handed it back to you and you thought about how if Peter did that you would be putty in your shoes.

“I think he was flirting with me. I think. I don’t know, he’s so coy. I love him.” You sighed and held a hand to your heart.

“And I am so sadistic, I’m using him as a pawn in my sick games. I’m asking him questions that I’ve already answered in my head about him and when he gives me a response it’s better than I imagined.”

“Maybe he was flirting, or trying. Something tells me you make him nervous.”

“Am I intimidating? I don’t want him scared of me, I want to mash my parts with his.” You pouted and thought if you were making him uncomfortable.

“First, gross.” (Not really, he also wants to mash parts.)

“Second, I don’t think you’re intimidating. I just think you are much more forward than him.”

“Oh no. Is that a problem? Do I keep doing what I am, or should I let him do this? Am I over stepping? I’ve never had a boyfriend, is he supposed to pursue me? Have I done everything backwards? Oh god.” You covered your face with your hands and missed Peter's eyes growing wide and his panicked arm movements.

“No, no, no, no. You’re fine, you’re good. It’s good. You can make the first move, totally okay. I just meant you’re expecting him to ask you out any second and I think you need to make it more noticeable rather than joking.”

“Ew! Gross! I will not walk up to that man and tell him I wanna smooch.”

“Oh, C’mon! You basically already have!”

“Nope. Not happening. You’ve helped me make up my mind, I will wait for Peter Parker to make the next move.” You tossed the quarter back to him, “Don’t worry. You’ll see me again.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Woah, wait.” MJ stopped in her tracks and spoke her next words carefully.

“You told Spider-Man about your crush on Peter?” Her voice was smooth and quick, MJ almost felt panicked for you, because you didn’t know what you just did.

“Yeah?” You didn’t get the big deal, not like Spider-Man knew who Peter was anyways.

“What did he say?” MJ was pulling at the thread.

“That I should be more clear, or less intimidating, or something.”

“He said you were intimidating?” MJ narrowed her eyes.

“Well kind of, when I said that he kind of back tracked but-”

MJ cut you off when he locked eyes with Peter coming down the hall towards you, he tilted his head in question, he knew that look and he wasn’t sure why he deserved it. She grabbed Peter’s forearm and tugged him next to her, your eyes went wide. You didn’t need to understand why MJ decided to bring Peter into this conversation, you just needed to end it.

“Peter, do you think Y/N is intimidating?”

His eyes saw your subtle head shake at her, an unvocal way of telling her to shut the fuck up.

“Uh, no. Not at all. Why?”

MJ waited for you to talk but you stayed silent, you would definitely spill if you tried to navigate the conversation.

“Because, the Queens nightly hero thinks she is.” Her tone was bitter, who knew MJ was this defensive over you.

“He said I was too forward, MJ. Drop it.” You pleaded to get out of this alive.

“Too forward, imagine that, Peter. Imagine confiding in someone about a crush and they say you’re too forward.”

You felt your knees hit your ankles, Peter would connect the dots. You told him you had a conversation and MJ just admitted it was about a crush.

You started to dryly laugh, not allowing Peter a chance to answer that.

“Not a crush! Nope! Don’t know where you got that theory.” You darted your eyes around looking for an escape.

“No?” Peter questioned you.

“You know MJ, she lives in her own world. Never said anything about having a crush on someone, definitely not you.”

Peter had to play into this, your turn to squirm.

“Who said I thought you had a crush on me?”

Your heart couldn’t beat any louder than it was at the moment.

“No one did.” You flashed a nervous smile.

“No, I think you just did.”

You breathed heavily out your nose and looked harshly at MJ like ‘wtf? Why did you do this?’

“I just didn’t want you to think I have a crush on you.”

Peter pouted, “Why not? I think it would be cute.”

It was your turn to sputter.

“Cute? It would be cute? Cute how? Cute, that's adorable or cute, let's date?”

You didn’t miss MJ’s look of ‘wow. Subtle much?’

“Depends. Do you have a crush on me?”

“Do you think I have a crush on you?”

Peter hummed and pretended to think.

“Sometimes.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Only sometimes?”

“I’m confused. Do you want me to think you have a crush on me or not?”

MJ raised her hands and slowly started to back away.

“Depends. How would you react?” You cautioned.

“Probably how you want me to react.”

“And how do I want you to react?”

Peter smiled and leaned in close, you held your breath for a moment. Was he about to kiss you? Is that how you want him to react? Yes.

“You tell me.”

Then he straightened himself and winked as he walked away.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Peter just had to wait for an opening, not that you would take long to give him one. You couldn’t keep it in, it was second nature at this point.

If there was any way he could ask you out casually then you needed to make it a bit clear, as much as you said you wanted it he couldn’t imagine the flip of “he doesn’t notice anything” to “hey, wanna go out?”

Peter was trying to set himself up for one of your comments and you tried your best to keep a poker face but when he said that? Game over.

“I think I have a shot, she totally likes me.”

Was he talking about you? He better be, because if you were walking into his house for the regular Friday movie night and he was talking about another girl you would actually lose it. You had just got there, still waiting for MJ and Ned to show up when he greeted you with his words.

“Who likes you?”

“Kendra! During math she was holding up her highlighters trying to match one to my shirt. It’s pretty obvious right?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. You can’t be serious.”

“I am! I told you if someone liked me they would make it obvious, and I’m pretty sure she did.”

“Oh fuck you Peter! You’re the actual worst, I sit here all fucking day saying things to you, about literally wanting to be all over you and a girl with a fucking highlighter collection is booted to top of the list?”

“I mean, what am I? Chopped liver? I have been pining after you for months, and all it took was a highlighter? Do you know I wear that green sweater all the time because you said you liked it once, or that I follow you around like a puppy? How about when I flirt with you, or do you even know I’m flirting with you?”

Peter had a shit eating grin that made you even more upset.

“Why are you so happy right now, you’re really pissing me off.”

Peter stalked towards you until you were backed up into the wall, with nowhere to go you felt his chest brush yours, his arms caging you against the wall, your head between both of his hands.

Save for the position, you were excited. This was going to be a new daydream scenario, he had you pinned to the wall. The only way out was through him.

He leant in close, if you just pushed yourself up you could have his lips on yours.

“Because, you finally admitted it.”

You narrowed your gaze at him.

“What is that supp-”

He cut you off.

With his mouth.

On yours.

No matter how many times you dreamed about this exact moment nothing could match the real thing. His lips were soft, his hand cupped your jaw to bring you closer to him. His body leaned in so he was flush against yours, you felt every curve and divot of him blend into yours. You grabbed at the waist of his shirt, begging for him not to leave his position of being on your mouth.

Instead he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss, the feather touch of his tongue on your lower lip sent your head into a spiral, the boy you had been obsessing and pining over the past few months was moving with your movements, you gasped into his mouth and he squeezed a hip with his hand and you in turn pressed your hips into his.

He pulled away and placed a kiss to your jaw, then neck.

“Was that the reaction you wanted?”

Your eyes stayed closed but you nodded, scared if you opened them the illusion would disappear.

“I kissed you with my heart and soul baby girl, can’t a guy get a response?”

You whimpered at the pet name.

Then a knock at the door, the curtain dropped. The other friends were here and it would go back to pretend this didn’t happen for a few hours. The front door was being opened from the outside, you had your head turned to the right to watch it open. Peter still had you pressed into the wall, he placed an arm out to hold the door shut.

“I’m not done yet.”

He leant in for another one, and another.

And another.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I was beginning to think you forgot about me.”

You did promise Spider-Man an update, but it’s been a busy few months. Christmas was just around the corner and Peter and you have been busy. Between dates and seasonal activities you haven’t had a moment to track down the hero and catch him up to date.

First it was Halloween and you did get your couples costume. (and he helped you carve your pumpkin.)

Then it was Thanksgiving. (and he walked through central park with you.)

And recently you’ve both been busy with present shopping and baking. (and he gives you hot chocolate with extra, extra whipped cream.)

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been too busy being a girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?”

You squealed. “Yes! He totally set me up and I was all like, ‘How do you not know I like you?’ and BAM! He just started kissing me, I was seeing fucking stars.”

“Peter Parker finally smelled the bacon, huh?”

“Yeah. He’s really awesome. I know we were friends before but it’s gotten so much better now he’s my boyfriend, I don’t even know how to describe it. I think it’s because everything I feel for him is reciprocated times ten by him.”

“I think it’s because you love him.”

“Or because we’re mashing parts.”

You laughed at his reaction.

“Gross.” (Not gross. He fucking loves mashing parts.)

“But yeah, I think it’s mostly because we love each other.”

“I’m happy for you, I’m glad I can stop looking for smoke signals now.”

You grinned at the hero and had to fight back the urge for a hug.

“Thanks, if it makes you feel better if I knew who you were under the mask I’d buy you dinner.”

Sirens blaring broke the reunion.

“It’s alright. I have a feeling you’ll know soon.”

“Hm, sure. Have a goodnight, Spidey. I’ll see you around.”

“You too, Y/N.”

Then he swung off, it left a grin on your face.

Until.

‘How did he know my name?’

#peter parker blurb #peter parker x reader #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fic #peter parker #peter parker mcu #my writing

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unclewaynemunson · 9 months

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Thanks to a conversation I had with @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe and @stevesbipanic about this post by @piratefishmama about Scott Clarke helping middle schoolers with sexuality crises I wrote a lil something :)

Scott Clarke has been worrying about Eddie Munson ever since the boy first set foot into his classroom. He was tiny for his age and thin on the verge of being scrawny, with big, scared eyes in a pale face. With his long, dark curls he was the kind of boy who would unavoidably be called names for being too much like a girl, and Scott wasn't surprised that it only took one week before the boy came in with his hair all buzzed off, pulling even more attention to his expressive eyes instead.

Scott was known for worrying about the nerdy kids, and even though it wouldn't be obvious to everyone right away, he immediately noticed that Eddie was one of those. He wasn't the kind of nerdy kid who would sit in the front of the classroom, hanging onto Scott's every word while avidly scribbling down the secrets of the universe that Scott liked to share. No, Eddie was the other kind of nerdy kid: the kind who would often be called dreamy, or imaginative, or quiet, or lazy. The kind who would retreat to the back of the class and get low scores on their tests because they were spending their time sneakily reading comic books underneath the table or staring out of the window with their mind completely elsewhere for hours on end.

Middle school wasn't an easy place for kids like Eddie, as Scott knew all too well. The only thing he could do, as a teacher, was try to make it a little bit more bearable for him. He was glad when the boy took him up on his offer to spend his lunch breaks in the science classroom instead of the cafeteria or the playground. Soon, it became a habit that Eddie would be on the other side of Scott's desk reading his way through some big book while Scott was grading papers or preparing his next lesson.

Scott knew that with patience and kindness, all kids like Eddie would eventually come out of their shell and start trusting him. So he asked about the books Eddie brought first, proceeded to topics like music and games he liked to play later, and eventually could ask him about his home life.

Whenever he'd talk about his books or his music, Eddie's eyes lit up and his smile widened. Scott soon found out that, when Eddie was at ease, he could talk a mile a minute and bounce around the classroom, caught up in his stories with all kinds of excited hand gestures. At those moments, he was nothing like the quiet boy with the haunted look in his eyes who Scott met two months ago.

But Eddie never disclosed much about his personal life. He didn't mention his mother even once and he didn't tell Scott much more than that he was living with his uncle in Forest Hills because his dad was “unavailable” to take care of him.

Scott doubted whether Eddie was much better off living with his uncle than with his father. Judging from the meager lunches he brought with him, the shabby and ill-fitting clothes he wore, and the fact that the man never once came to drop Eddie off or pick him up at school, Scott was skeptical, to say the least.

He started worrying even more when one day, Eddie lingered in the classroom after the last lesson of the day, saying he wanted to ask him a “science question” with a certain dread in his eyes that Scott had never seen there before.

“There's nothing I love more than a good science question,” Scott quickly reassured him. “Tell me, what is it?”

“The other kids,” said Eddie, “Brendon and Mark and, you know... They call me names.” His voice was soft and his eyes were aimed towards the ground as he spoke. “Queer. And fag. And...” He shrugged. “Y'know.” He raised his head up again, big scared eyes meeting Scott's.

“I – I think they're right,” he said, almost in a whisper. “How can you stop being gay?”

And oh, this was a conversation Scott had experience with. He had been a teacher at Hawkins Middle School for almost two decades and there had always been kids he worried about, who would open up to him about this exact topic.

So he sat Eddie down at his desk and patiently talked him through everything the boy needed to know; God knows his trailer park uncle most certainly wouldn't. He told him all about science and nature and feelings and, most importantly, being perfect the way you are, no matter who you love.

More than two hours later, Eddie finally left the classroom with relief in his eyes instead of dread. But Scott kept worrying: Eddie's uncle hadn't so much as called the school to inform where Eddie was. Who was looking out for him after the last school bell rang and the kid rode his bike out of Scott's sight?

Not long after that conversation, Scott finally got to meet Mr. Munson for the first time. He was one of Scott's last appointments of the yearly parent-teacher evening, and Scott half expected him not to show up. But he was right on time, even though he looked almost comically out of place when he walked into the science classroom.

He was exactly what Scott would've imagined of a man living in Forest Hills: washed-up jeans and a worn-down flannel, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, and a gruff frown hidden underneath a faded gray trucker's hat. He walked up to where Scott was seated behind his desk in a few big strides, and Scott couldn't help but think that there was something almost intimidating in merely the way he carried himself. Not exactly the kind of man who radiated safety for a boy like Eddie.

They shook hands and Scott felt rough callouses press against his own chalk-stained fingers.

While Scott talked Mr. Munson through Eddie's grade list – a list that at this point was barely enough to get him into the next grade – Mr. Munson didn't say anything. Only when Scott asked him if he had any questions, he opened his mouth.

“How're the other kids treatin' him?” the man asked him in a thick southern accent.

“It's not easy for him,” Scott answered in all honesty. He wondered how much Eddie told his uncle about what his days at school usually looked like.

Mr. Munson bowed his head. “I know,” he mumbled.

“Eddie is a sensitive kid, he –”

“I know what kinda kid he is,” Mr. Munson interrupted him immediately. It sounded sharp and Scott wondered if he should be worried about Mr. Munson having a temper.

“Of course,” he cautiously retreated. “I just assumed, since I've never seen you at the school before, sir, that you might not be aware of what exactly he has to deal with in here.”

“Maybe you should do less assuming, then,” Mr. Munson answered bluntly. “You think I should be at the school more? Drop Eddie here in the mornin', come pick him up in the afternoon, all that?”

Scott wondered if Mr. Munson was mocking him.

“Well, I think it might be good for Eddie if –”

“You know why I ain't never at the school? 'Cause I'm tryin' my damned best to keep that boy's stomach filled. When should I be at the school, exactly, between my day shift at the quarry and my night shift at the plant?”

“I – I'm sorry,” Scott backpedaled. Suddenly, the frown lines in the tired face of the man in front of him had gotten a different meaning. “I didn't know. You're right, I shouldn't have made assumptions.”

“Look, I dunno how much he shared with you, Mr. Clarke, but I know he looks up to you. So I think you should know that he's the kinda kid who got in trouble at home for bein' “too sensitive.”” He shot Scott a meaningful glance. “Boy was cryin' to me on the phone, 'cause of what his daddy did to him, so I picked him up and drove him here and I made it my mission, as his uncle, to protect him, to shield him, and to take care of him as best as I possibly can.”

Scott had always prided himself on being a good judge of character. He wondered if he had ever been more wrong about somebody before in his life.

“I know he thinks highly of you, Sir,” Mr. Munson continued. “And I'm very grateful that you're keepin' an eye on him when I can't. But at some point, he may trust you with some very personal information about himself, and you better have his back when he does.”

He knows, Scott realized with a shock. He tried to give Mr. Munson a reassuring smile, but his heart was beating in his throat with what he was about to tell him.

“I was a sensitive kid, myself, Sir. I promise you Eddie is in good hands with me.”

Scott wondered whether Mr. Munson caught the message in those words while a long silence stretched out. Their gazes were locked: Mr. Munson's eyes were bright blue, completely different from Eddie's but just as expressive. His gaze softened while the seconds passed and underneath his graying beard, his mouth twitched.

“I was a sensitive kid, too,” he eventually said.

And Scott's jaw nearly dropped to the floor. This man, with his big calloused hands and his trucker's hat and his undeniably manly demeanor?

His feelings of astonishment must have been visible on his face, because Mr. Munson chortled softly.

“Didn't see that one coming, did ya?”

Scott laughed, too, making the last bit of residual tension between them disappear. “I'm sorry, Mr. Munson. I had no idea.”

“'S okay,” Mr. Munson said. “'s good to know that Eddie has someone lookin' out for him here. Um –” He scraped his throat. “I um...” He abruptly averted his gaze back to his lap again, where his fingers were nervously fumbling with the cap he was holding between his hands.

“I always make Eddie dinner,” he finally said. “'S one of the few things I can do for him, y'know. It'd probably be better for me if I took a quick nap 'tween my jobs, but it's the only time of the day we got together. I'm not much of a cook, but I try to get him to eat somethin' healthy and warm, and we talk about stuff, whatever it is he wants to talk about. So um... If you ever wanna join us – that is, if you don't mind comin' to the trailer park... We don't have much, but I'm sure we can fit another chair 'round the table. I think it could be good for Eddie.”

Scott could barely believe what was happening. To think that only a few minutes ago, he had been worried about this man having a temper or being neglectful towards his nephew...

Wayne Munson was shy and soft-spoken and he loved Eddie with a passion that sparked a fierce protectiveness. And after having Scott judge him based on the way he looked and a bunch of false assumptions, he showed him nothing but genuine goodness.

He felt his lips bend into a smile more authentic than he'd been able to give in a while.

“I'd love to join you sometime,” he told Mr. Munson. “For Eddie – but I also wouldn't mind getting to know you better,” he added in a sudden spur or braveness.

And he could swear that something suspiciously like a smile matching his own was hiding beneath Mr. Munson's beard.

#thank you noelle for providing the worms #and thank you b for telling me that clarkson should always be brought up <3 #it's past 1am so idk if this is any good but here ya go #yeah i stole that speech from the joel stoffer interview about wayne #i love him #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #scott clarke #wayne munson #stranger things #scott clarke x wayne munson #clarkson my beloved #fruity ficlet #bluffing my way through that southern accent again 🙃

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itsjennygirlz · 2 months

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Finishing preparing yourself in front of the mirror you thought: *And now the white claws to match my beautifuls white nails and dress...*

When your Girlfriends interrupts you "Wow ! You're so beautiful Sissy" 😍

- "Omg Emily I thought you would only come home tomorrow ! I can explain, I was..."

- "Shhh... You don't have to say a word honey (as she approaches and put her finger on your mouth) I know it all... It's been 2 years since I've found out for the first time that you were stealing my panties. At first I was so upset and scared, I thought Brendon, my boyfriend, was a pervert. But then I watched you with the house camera and realized you were a girl at heart. As I watched you styling your outfit from my clothes, perfecting your make-up, having a glass of wine while watching Girlz TV Show.... I've decided that I'll help you become the Girl you truly are" 🥰

- "No ! I promise I won't do it again ! I want to be Brendon your boyfriend.. It was only a few time, while you..."

- "I knew you would say funny things like that, so I've decided to put you on Nightie Girl hypnosis ! Ans guess what, it's been 2 years ! I also bought new clothes, that I've always let out of my closet when I wasn't home for you to have fun... And it's been almost a year since I've put you on Femininzing hormones"

- "What?! But.."

- "You didn't thought your body hair, beard and all just stopped to grow by magic... Hehe and those cute teenage girls breasts that are just starting to grow... Oh and come on, what about those magnificent Girl's Hair you've grown! I'm kinds jealous... So listen closely Sweetie here's the deal:

From now on you'll become my Girlfriend, we'll be shopping together, have Girls Nights, Gossip Session and everything... Now look me in the Eyes Brittany and tell me how much you're happier as a girl" 🤍

As your started to argue, your mind felt blank, you felt so distracted and dazzy... you open your mouth and finally say:

"I love beeing a Girl, thank you so much Emily I've never been happier" 😇

- "Moh you're welcome Brit' let's go out in town now ! I need to introduce you to the Girlz" 🛍

- - - -

Reblog this story I know you dream to live Sissy 😝💗

♡ XoXo Jenny ♡

#itsjennygirlz #sissy princess #sissy mistress #feminization captions #forced sissy #forced femizination #female supermacy #sissy story #sissy school

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folklaur21 · 5 days

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Never Find Another Like Me

Pairing: Lorenzo Berkshire x fem!gryffindor!reader

Summary: When you and Enzo broke up, you promised him that he'd never find anyone like you. Despite trying to replace you, you are the only one who is on his mind.

Warnings: Flashbacks, use of Y/N, some perspective change (ish), kind of cheating at the end (but not really lol) & Cormac McLaggen is in this fic 🤮🤮🤮

Word Count: 1.8k

Right now, Lorenzo Berkshire was annoyed. No, he was beyond annoyed, he was pissed. There you were, sat at the Gryffindor table with Cormac McLaggen's arms wrapped around your shoulders as you giggled as if he's the funniest person in the world. Which he isn't. Enzo stabbed his bacon very aggressively with his fork and stared at you. How could you have moved on already. Granted, it had been two months since he had broken up with you, but surely you couldn't have found someone as good as him yet. And he couldn't believe the person you had chosen to move on with was the biggest douche in the school. Cormac Bloody McLaggen.

"Enzo, mate, you're spraying scrambled egg everywhere." Theodore Nott grimaced at his friend as he wiped egg from his robes. "What are you even looking- Oh."

"Yeah. Oh." Enzo replied, putting his cutlery down. "How could she have moved on already? It's only been two months."

"To be fair, Enz, you have been out with about ten different girls," Theo shrugged. "Who's to blame her? It looks like you've moved on."

"They didn't mean anything! I was just looking for some relief. A break. You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know. But you can't get mad at her for doing it too. You broke up with her, remember. This is your fault." Theo remarked as he went back to eating his breakfast.

Theo was right. He had been the one to end things. How stupid he was. Enzo glanced up at you once more, but this time he actually caught your eye. Flustered, he looked down at his plate and pushed his food around with his fork. How could he forget when he lost you?

"What do you mean, Enzo?"

You were quite mad now, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. You couldn't believe it, your boyfriend was breaking up with you, and you didn't even understand why.

"It's just... I think we need a break, that's all."

"Enzo, we're not Ross and Rachel. What the hell do you mean by a 'break'?" you ask, your resolve destroyed.

"Who are Ross and Rachel?" Enzo asks, confused.

"They're just characters from a Muggle TV show. It doesn't matter." you shake your head. "Why do we need a break? I know that I'm a handful." You pause for a moment before asking in a small voice. "Am I not good enough for you?"

Enzo sighs. "That's not what I said."

"It's what you meant though, wasn't it."

"Y/N-"

"No. I get it. You're the kind of guy that ladies want. And there's loads of cool chicks out there who aren't me. Trouble always seems to follow me."

"Please, it isn't that you're not good enough for me. Nobody said that. But I don't think we're right together. And, it's not you, it's me."

You roll your eyes. "Don't pull that card with me." You grab your wand off of Lorenzo's desk and take your coat from his bed. "Bye Lorenzo."

As you reach the door and open it, you turn around to face Lorenzo as you leave. "Enzo?"

"Yeah?"

"When it comes to a lover, I promise that you'll never find another like me." With that, you close the door and walk out, out of the Slytherin common room, out of the dungeons, and out of Enzo's life. Forever. Or so you thought.

And now you were here, sat in the Great Hall, talking to your friends whilst your boyfriend had an arm wrapped around you. Your boyfriend who wasn't Enzo. No Y/N, stop. You weren't supposed to be thinking about him. You were over him. People who are over their exes don't think about them.

But you aren't really over him. Not really. McLaggen is an awful person. He's not even funny to make up for it. So you thought one glance at the Slytherin table wouldn't do any harm. Just a look. But when you looked over, you couldn't look away. Until he looked back. Your eyes met. And now, all of a sudden, you wondered why you hadn't tried to ever fix things with the boy who broke your heart.

"Hey babe! Enzo!"

When you heard the name, your head whipped around. You were sat in the courtyard doing your Charms homework, when you saw Lavender Brown run over to Enzo and wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him close to her. Ew. What was he doing with her?

"Hello darling. How has your day been?" Enzo said with a charming smile, warm enough to melt chocolate.

"It was good, thank you." Lavender said, giggling hysterically. So uncool. Why was he even with her anyways? He had always said how much he despised her. What had changed?

Enzo wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and the two of them made their way towards where you were sat, by the fountain.

"Hey Y/N!" Lavender chuckled. "How are you?"

"Good," is the only word you can get out before feeling like you want to throw up, grimacing as you say it.

"Well, my boyfriend, and I are going down to the Black Lake? Do you want to join us? You can bring Cormac." Lavender smirked again. It seemed as if she knew how frustrated this made you.

With a forced smile, you manage to say, "No thanks. I'm studying. I hope the two of you have loads of fun." You don't even try to disguise the hint of venom in your voice, glaring up at Lorenzo, who just stares into the distance, seeming to not have noticed your gaze.

"OK then. Bye Y/N. Enjoy studying." Lavender laughs as her and Enzo walk away. As you stare at the back of his head, you suddenly wish you had fought harder to keep Enzo.

"Mate, what's wrong? You've been distracted all lesson, and usually you love Potions." Theo nudges his friend while Snape isn't looking.

"Sorry." Enzo says, snapping out of his mini trance. "Just thinking about stuff."

Snape walked past their desk and to the front, making a comment on todays potion. Amortentia.

"Remember," he drawled, "to get the spelling correct in your notes. Spelling is fun."

Everyone in the class sniggered, trying to disguise it in front of their terrifying professor.

Theo continues his and Enzo's conversation after the class has settled down. "Well, you thinking about stuff is never good. What is it? Did Lavender break up with you?" Theo asks, putting his quill down.

"No. I broke up with her." Enzo says, picking at the corner of his parchment.

"Good. She wasn't right for you anyway. And you always had your tongues down each other's throats. A bit gross if you ask me." Theo shrugs nonchalantly. "Now, if it wasn't that, what's bothering you."

"It's nothing, honestly. Just... thinking about someone." Enzo says, as he looks over at you across the room. You were taking notes on the potion you were studying in your lesson today. Enzo smiled to himself as he watches you lick your lips as you focused on your work.

Theodore follows Enzo's gaze and sighs. "Is it Y/N? Again? Mate, I told you, you broke up with her, too." Theo looks at his friend knowingly. "If you want her back, you have to get her back. Yourself."

"But what is she doesn't want me back? What do I do then?"

"Well, if that happens, then you are back where you are now, but this time you'll be crying to me every night because you know that she doesn't feel the same way anymore." Theodore didn't have to worry about that. He knew you wanted him too. Theo was always there and saw you staring at his best friend, even when Enzo himself didn't notice. You loved Enzo and Enzo loved you. That's how it is. You were perfect for each other. And you just needed to believe it.

You rushed up to the top of the Astronomy Tower, clutching a piece of paper in your trembling hands that you had received at breakfast that morning from a random owl that you didn't recognise. You didn't recognise the handwriting in the note either, but you knew who it was from. Or, at least, who you believed it was from. The note read:

Meet me at the Astronomy Tower at midnight. I need to apologise, and I need you to understand why I did what I did. Please don't tell anyone you are going, at least until after you've been. I love you.

The note was probably from Cormac. The two of you had fought the other day about him flirting with other girls, and hadn't spoken for a couple of days. It was probably an apology, out of sight of everyone else. Cormac didn't do apologies. He sat with you in front of people, but wasn't much of a behind-the-scenes boyfriend. You were shocked when you got the note, but thought nothing of it, as Cormac didn't do any public displays of affection.

However, when you reached the top of the stairs, it wasn't Cormac you saw. It was Lorenzo.

"Enzo? You sent me this?" you asked as you held up the note.

"Umm, yeah. I did. I kind of needed to talk to you. About us." Enzo said that a bit sheepishly, and he stares down at his feet.

"Enzo, there is no us. You ended it. And I'm happy now, I'm with Cormac too." You force out a small smile. "I'm happy now." That was a lie. You were happiest when you were with Enzo.

"I want you back, Y/N. I don't think I can live without you." Enzo walks towards you and grabs your hand. You want to pull away, but something in your heart tells you not to. Stupid heart. Always meddling.

"Enzo, we can't. You're with Lavender, I'm with Cormac. And we didn't work the first time. What makes you think we get a second chance?"

"Firstly, I'm not with Lavender anymore. And who cares about Cormac anyway? You don't love him, I can tell. And he had his hands all over a Ravenclaw girl this morning. Sorry." He said the last bit with an ounce of sympathy, but you didn't really care about Cormac right now.

"OK, but that doesn't change things with us." You say, crossing your arms and trying to look angry.

"Look, I know I tend to make it about me. A lot. And you never get just what you see, but I won't ever bore you. And there's a lot of lame guys out there."

"I guess." You sigh. "Remember when we had that fight out in the rain? You ran after me and called my name..."

"I never want to see you walk away. Ever." Enzo wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you closer to him. "I love you, Y/N"

"I love you too Enzo." You grab his face and kiss him, forgetting about any of your previous worries now that you had your Enzo back.

A moment later, you pull away and break the kiss. "Enzo?"

"Yeah?"

"I was right," you say with a smirk.

"What do you mean?" Enzo asks, his lips pulling upwards into a quizzical smile.

"I promised that you'd never find another like me!"

P.S. I hope you liked the dividers!! They're basic but I made them lol.

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elektramustdie · 3 months

Text

take it

WARNINGS - daddy kink ??? unprotected sex ( don’t be silly wrap that willy ) dacryphila?? rough sex. brendon urie mentioned.

You were at the underground a bar, watching your boyfriend Mikey perform. You sat alone at the bar, sipping on something sweet and fizzy the bartender made you, on the house.

Someone approached you, introducing himself as Brendon, He didn't leave when you mentioned you had a boyfriend, but he didn't make any moves on you either, he was just speaking to you, so you didn't feel concerned about it.

The only rule you and Mikey had about hanging out with other people is as long as they're not into you, it's totally fine. Because usually, Mikey is a pretty level headed guy, especially when it comes to you. He loves you, and trusts that you love him, and only him.

However, there are a few people that push Mikey’s buttons just by existing. You knew about Ryan Ross but who you didn't know about was Brendon Urie lead singer of Panic! at the disco another band that frequents gigs at The Underground. And an pain in Mikey’s ass.

And now, he was leaning against the bar talking to you while Mikey played the rest of his show.

And Mikey was getting pissed off.

He didn't like the idea of this guy talking to you, but what he really hated was that this guy was using you to get a rise out of him, and worse yet, it was fucking working. Mikey’s neck was getting hot, and he'd long lost his usual grin. Instead, it was replaced with a tight scowl, a really annoyed grimace that probably would've signalled something was wrong if you would just look at Mikey.

But no, you were talking with Brendon, sipping on your drink. He could tell from there that you weren't doing anything wrong at all. You saw the best in people, and if you had said you weren't interested, you would trust the other person to take that as an answer. But Mikey knew better. Mikey knew that Brendon wasn't just trying to make a new friend, he was trying to ruin Mikey’s night.

By the time you realized you were in trouble, it was far too late. Mikey had already decided that you needed to be taught a lesson.

And once you're in hell, only the devil can get you out.

You noticed Mikey’s grimace, and put two and two together when you saw your new friend waving at Mikey, smug smile on his face.

"Do you know Mikes?" you asked, growing suspicious.

"Oh yeah," he said, making sure Mikey was looking at him before tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "We go way back."

You reacted quickly, getting out of your chair and smacking that guys hand away from you. You were clearly telling him off, but Mikey just wished you would get away from that guy.

Mikey, still not angry with you, was fuming. Brendon had touched you. He touched you without your permission, and you felt uncomfortable, Mikey could see that. The music turned aggressive, and his bandmates could see the scene unfolding in front of them, and they didn't know what was going to happen.

After cutting the song short, Gerard announced their set was over.

The band looked at each other questioningly, as there was still supposed to be another few songs, but they wrapped up anyway, unplugging their instruments and beginning to disassemble. Mikey threw the van keys to Frank, and didn't say a word as he rushed over to 'save' you.

You met Mikey halfway, trying to assure him that you didn't do anything. Brendon was behind you smirking at the damage he'd done to Mikey’s mood.

"Baby," he cooed, rubbing your arms. "I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at him." Mikey nodded over to Brendon, and followed up by flipping him off. "Go over with Gerard, okay? I wouldn't trust this guy near your drink." Mikey plucked the beverage out of your hands, and while he doubted that Brendon did anything to it, he just wasn't willing to risk it.

Mikey stormed over to Brendon, and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

"If you ever lay your hands on her again, I will kill you. Do you understand that? I will killyou."

"Death threats? Mikey, don't you think you're being a little dramatic? She was totally into it."

"If you interpret recoiling as into it, you're a predator." Mikey had to get out of here before he did something he would regret. Before he got the band barred from the only place they could find to play. "Stay away from us."

"Whatever, nerd."

Mikey let go of Brendon’s shirt, turning on his heel and focusing on just getting back to you and calming down. Was he mad? Jealous? Pissed off? Yes, yes, and yes.

"Mikey?" you asked, as he approached you, but he didn't answer, just grabbed your hand and pulled you close, closing the gap between you and laying a big, fat kiss on you in front of everyone. You melted into him, not really caring who saw. Mikey loved pda, always had, loved showing everyone that you were his, and he was yours.

His hands wrapped around your waist, holding you as he leaned into you, bending your back and forcing your chest into his. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, taking in the intoxicating smell of him. Mikey, sweat covered and sexy.

"Mikes," you mumbled against his mouth, "let's pack up and just get out of here," you said, pulling away from him finally.

"Yeah," he agreed, "good idea."

And you could see the fire in his eyes. You could feel the way he tried to push into you. You were in trouble, but you weren't scared, you were excited.

"Are you ready to help us pack up?" Ray asked, "or would you just like us to watch you make out some more."

"No one was forcing you to watch," Mikey said, his tone level and casual. None of his usual joking manner. "I'll bring the van around."

Mikey pulled you behind him. He wouldn't be letting you alone with that guy fucking lurking around. You were guided out the back door, and through the dark parking lot behind the bar. Mikey always parked in the same corner, far enough away from the door where he could secure a quick deal or two during his shows.

Even through the rage, you thought he was being a perfect gentleman by opening the passenger side door for you, but you should've known better. In this mood, you should've expected him to be dirty, dirty, dirty...

When you moved to get in, he pushed you down, bending you over the seat. With your ass in the air, he lifted your skirt and pulled your panties down to your knees, immediately smacking your ass three fast times. It stung, the sudden intrusion of pain was a delightful surprise. He groped your ass for a second, mumbling something about it being his.

"I fucking love this ass," he muttered, sliding his fingers down through your already soaking wet folds. "And this pussy."

Two rough fingers found your clit, rubbing small, quick circles around the little bud.

"I need to get you home," he said, plunging those fingers inside you. "Like, right now."

"We should h-help pack up," you said, only to be met with another smack on your ass from his free hand. He wasn't holding you down, you could've easily asked him to stop and he would've. But you didn't want to. And he knew that.

"Just need a minute," he said, falling to his knees. The concret scraped his knees, but he didn't care. He needed this to calm down. Then he could go pack up and get you home and deal with the rest of his frustrations. "Jus' a little taste," he whispered, leaning forward and diving into your pussy like it was the cure to all his problems. Which it kind of was, honestly.

One hand was gripping your thigh, right where it met your ass, holding it open so he could lick, and suck and just taste you. The other hand, slid around you to rub slow circles on your clit again, but not enough to get you off. He didn't want to overwhelm you already, and he definitely didn't want you to cum yet.

“mikey," you moaned, biting your hand to keep quiet. "They're waiting for us."

"Don't care," he mumbled, continuing to eat you out, right there in the parking lot. It wouldn't be the first time you'd done something here in the parking lot, but it was the first time where you weren't hidden inside the van.

"Mikey," you moaned, as he licked up your slit and dipped into your tight little hole with his tongue, before pulling away entirely, letting the cool breeze blow across your wet centre, and you whined, wishing he would continue. He laughed, leaving your clit behind to grip both your ass cheeks in his calloused hands, the rough fingers felt amazing against your soft skin. He bit one of your ass cheeks, and kissed the other. And then slapped both at the same time.

And you got ready for him to fuck you. But instead he tucked his erection into the band of his jeans, and pulled your panties back up. He fixed your skirt, and then guided you to sit in the van.

"You're so good," he mused, his bad mood already lessening. "So beautiful."

You blushed, suddenly bashful about what he'd done.

"Now let's get the fuck out of here," he said, closing the passenger door and rushing around to the front. He drove to the otherside of the lot, completely unfazed by his voyeuristic tendencies.

The guys were already moving stuff outside, and leaving it by the backdoor.

"We were afraid to come over there," Frank joked, loading stuff into the back. He found it even funnier when he caught the blush creeping over your neck and cheeks. He didn't say anything else about it. But he knew that there was some truth to it all.

"Just hurry up," Mikey said, impatience catching up with him. "I'm in a bad mood, I just fucking hate that guy."

"Yeah, that guy is a dick." Gerard shook his head. "But it's not like she would've let him do anything."

"Obviously," he muttered, and closed the back of the door. "It pisses me off that he would even try to use her like that though, like she's less of a person. It's just, it's gross."

"It is gross," he agreed. "Well, we're out of here. I think we will catch a ride with Ray. You seem, uh... busy."

"I think that's for the best."

The drive home was silent, except for the radio playing quietly between you. Mikey’s hand gripped your thigh, tightly, possessively. He was thinking of all the ways he was going to fuck you. All the ways he was going to make you cum. All over his face, his cock, his fingers. He couldn't think about anything else. He loathed the idea that Brendon probably thought he could get with you. It made it him fucking furious. The more he stewed about it, the more angry he got.

It was time to remind you that there was no one on Earth that could fuck you like he can.

He trusted you fully, but he was going to remind you anyway.

"Mikey?" you asked, "Are you sure you're not mad at me?"

"I'm sure, my love." He traded his grip on your thigh for your hand, which he brought to his lips to place several chaste kisses to your knuckles. It was sweet how much you cared about his feelings, and boundaries. "I just need to make sure you're properly fucked. I've been fucking you softly lately, and I love that," he smiled, and you were blushing, the topic of conversation making you bashful, "but it's time for Daddy to really fuck your brains out."

"Mikey!"

"Time to make my princess cum again and again," he continued, "until you're screaming and begging me to stop." He continued to kiss your hand as he spoke, "but you won't want me to stop, not really."

"Don't be dirty," you whispered, shy about the way he was speaking to you. But you loved it. You were soaking wet, clenching your thighs together, thinking about all the ways Mikey would have you. All the ways you would totally and fully give yourself to him.

“Oh baby," he cooed, "tonight we will be filthy, and I think," he let go of your hand, "I'll start now."

And with that he slipped his hand between your thighs, pushing them open. He wasted no time in grabbing your panties, yanking them over to the side and slipping his fingers between your folds.

“So fucking wet," he moaned, slipping a finger inside you, "and so fucking tight." He groaned, taking the finger out and popping it into his mouth. "And sweet."

You were breathing heavily, so turned on by how Mikey was acting. He'd dominated you before, but this was different. Like he was trying to prove something. He was trying to prove to himself that he was the right one for you, that he was the one you wanted and needed.

"I want you to be good for me tonight," he said, moving back between your legs and fingering you again. This time with two thick fingers, and his thumb on your clit. He knew everything by feel, his eyes never left the road. He knew where to touch, and what to do to please you. "Just do what I say and you'll be rewarded."

"Okay," you whispered, speechless at what was going on. You pulled your knee up onto the passenger side door to give him more access to you. To let him in deeper.

“Good girl," he cooed, "off to a good start."

He removed his hand again, and you whined at the loss of contact, but he shut you up by sticking his fingers into your mouth. "Taste that, honey? It's my favourite thing in the world." He kept his fingers in your mouth for a moment, until he felt your tongue swirl around the digits. "You're gunna suck my cock as soon as we get inside your house, and you're not gunna stop until I tell you to stop."

You nodded, and he pulled his fingers out, returning to gripping your thigh like at the start. You were throbbing, thinking 'please touch me again,' over and over and over in your head until you were sure he knew what you were thinking, because his smug smirk returned.

"Look at you, fucking begging for it, looking at me like that isn't gunna be enough, doll. You're not calling the shots tonight."

“Can I suck your cock now?" you asked, and he smiled.

"No," he said. "Keep your hands to yourself."

And suddenly your hands were magnets, and he was what they were attracted to. You wanted to touch him, to play with his hair, or his jacket. Touch his thighs, or any piece of exposed skin you could find. You needed him. You wanted him to be inside you, anyway possible. The lay restlessly on your lap, just keening to touch him.

You clenched your thighs together again, and Mikey tutted at you. "Don't do that, your pleasure is all for me tonight."

"Mikey..." you whined, hiking your leg up higher, trying to entice him to return to his work between your legs. But he didn't budge, just smirked as you whined and writhed in his passenger seat. He loved it like this, he liked how fucking feral you got for him.

And he especially loved how smug it made him when one of the guys sat in that seat, knowing all the dirty things he'd done to you in this van.

He killed the engine, parking crooked in your driveway. No one was home, it was a recipe for a perfect night.

"Don't even have to be quiet," he mused, "you're really in for it, pretty girl."

And you were quick to exit the van, and excitedly head into the house. You were only a few steps in, leaning on the wall and trying to kick your shoes off when Mikey slammed the front door, grabbing your hand and turning you back around to him.

“I said 'as soon as we get inside'," and he pulled you down until you feel on your knees. "I didn't say take anything off."

He pushed your face into his bulge, the jean rubbing against your cheek, and the zipper cold on your nose.

You undid his belt above you, fumbling because you couldn't really see it. You pulled it through the loops, and he grabbed it from you before you could discard it.

"Take my pants off," he muttered, letting go of your hair. And you obeyed, tongue tied and soaking wet. Throbbing in your panties. Mikey had never been like this. And you wanted more. You wanted more than you knew.

While you worked on his jeans, he wrapped the belt around your neck. Not to choke you, but to hold it there, as if it was a promise. A promise to keep you in line. You sucked your lip into your mouth, salivating at the sight of his dick springing to life, free from the confines of his ripped jeans. His sexy, sexy ripped jeans.

You started teasingly, licking the underside of his dick slowly, but he yanked the belt, causing it to tighten ever so slightly. "I said, suck my dick!" he raised his voice, annoyed that he had to repeat himself a third time.

You whimpered, putting the tip in your mouth, and he thrusted into your mouth, forcing himself into your throat as you choked and gagged.

"If you want to stop at any point just tap twice or say red," he said, a softer tone taking over for a moment, he pulled back a bit, making you look up at him, "tap twice now if you understand."

You tapped his leg twice, and then you gagged on his dick as he thrusted it down your throat again. "Good girl," he muttered, dick twitching at the view he had. Belt wrapped around your throat like a leash, tears filling your eyes and his dick hit the back of your throat. You didn't even have to move, because Mikey couldn't control himself from grabbing your hair, and guiding you to suck his dick exactly how he wanted it.

Mikey was fucking your face, a foot from the front door. If anyone came onto the porch they'd hear the wet squelching of Mikey thrusting into your mouth, or the coughing caused by the intrusion.

"That's fucking unreal, princess," he muttered, throwing his head back and his continued gripping your hair by the roots, moving your head up and down on his thick cock. "You take daddy so well."

Your hands gripped his thighs, trying to ignore the painful throbbing of your ignored pussy, while Mikey takes his pleasure. "You look so pretty like this," he said, returning his attention to you. Tears made their escape down your cheeks, dragging your mascara with them.

He gave the belt some slack, and you backed off of him, sucking in a few big gulps of air.

"I didn't know you could take it so good, baby," he cooed, "Daddy's good little slut."

You nodded eagerly, not sure if you were allowed to talk or not. You leaned forward to take him back in your mouth, doing everything you had been before, but without Mikey’s guiding hand, you did it yourself, shoving his cock to the back of your throat where you coughed and gagged around him.

His groans were delightful. Mikey moans were music, filling you up with pride and desire. You pulled away again for some more air, and he looked at you with a devilish smirk.

"Come up here," he said, yanking on the belt, forcing you back to your feet.

The belt dangled when he let it go, and he just looked at you for a second. Your hair was messy, cheeks covered in wet makeup, puffy lips, belt hanging loosely around your neck, and glossy eyes that made Mikey swoon, for just a moment. And then he smirked, rubbing his thumbs across your cheek, trying to remove some of the mascara, but he just smudged it more. He smiled.

"Did you like that?" he asked, wanting to make sure you were liking this otherside of him. You nodded. "Why don't you bend over that couch over there? Hmm? Show me that ass i love so much."

You did as he asked, bending yourself over the armrest of the couch. Irritated by all the clothes still on, but Mikey said not to take anything off, and you wanted to be his good girl. Even your sneakers were still on.

You looked behind at him, and he had taken all his clothes off, and was roughly palming his cock in his hand. One finger looped around your panties, yanking them down your legs and off, landing somewhere on the floor. He winked at you, making you blush. He gripped your ass tightly.

He spread you open, he slides his cock down to the wet, sopping hole of your pussy, testing the readiness of it by slipping the tip in. Your pussy basically sucked him in, begging him to give it to you. "So fucking wet and ready baby, so fucking good for me."

Instead of fucking you like you desperately needed, he just popped the tip in and out a couple times, spreading your wetness down to your clit and up to your ass.

And then he was lined up to your pussy again, holding himself at your hole, and you whimpered, looking over your shoulder at him, glossy eyes begging for him.

"Why so quiet, princess? I want to hear you," he said, moving his cock down to your clit again, and then right back up to your centre.

"Please," you begged, voice breaking with anticipation.

"Please what?"

"Please... please fuck me Daddy," you begged, "please fuck me, I've been so good, I want it. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me" you begged.

And in one swift movement he grabbed the belt again, yanking it tight, constricting your throat just enough for you to feel the threat of choking, and also thrusting himself fully inside you. You screamed at the sudden invasion, but it felt so fucking good. The belt slightly constricting you, forcing your head back, and Mikey suddenly balls deep inside you made you scream you loved it so much. His other hand gripped your ass, the skirt bunching up in his palm.

Like how he treated your face, he was roughly fucking into you, each pump going all the way out before slamming back in. Each move was calculated, your head being forced back felt... so fucking good. He slapped your ass, flipping your skirt up.

You muttered unintelligible syllables, just grunts and moans as he took all of you.

You were taking him so well, your pussy was gripping him so tightly. Fuck, Mikey couldn't take it, but he didn't want to cum yet. Didn't want it to end.

You were breathing heavy, getting close to finishing, and Mikey could feel it. He knew the signs of your orgasm, and right when you were about to fall off that edge, he stopped entirely, pulling out and letting your orgasm shatter to pieces, not giving you any sense of relief. Instead, you were left with a painful thump in your clit.

Mikey touched it slowly and softly, giving nowhere near enough to coax you back to your orgasm, but enough to soothe the throbbing of neglect your poor pussy felt.

You whined, trying to push yourself back on him, and it made him chuckle. You looked so desperate for him. You wanted him. And Mikey finally got back his confidence that he was the only one for you. A fact you'd never doubted.

He loosened the belt, taking it off completely, and flipped you over, so you were standing again, leaning back against the couch. He moved your hair out of the way to make sure he didn't do any damage, and he didn't. It was just a little red, with a few small marks where the edges had rubbed into you. But he'd never pulled it tight enough to hurt you.

And then his movements were caring, just for a moment, just enough time to slide off your skirt, and then your shirt and bra. He slowly undressed you, stroking his cock slowly. He worshipped your body, hands dragging slowly across all newly exposed skin.

"So fucking pretty, baby," he said, "and you take it so well, who knew you had this kind of ... perseverance?"

"I want to cum," you pouted, "and I want you to fuck me full."

Mikey’s eyes widened at your words, and his usual cheeky grin returned. "Oh, baby, you don't even know what you're asking for," he groaned, biting his bottom look as he took in your disheveled appearance.

"Yes, I do," you challenged, "please?"

And he pushed you back, letting you fall onto the couch cushions. And you crawled backwards as he climbed over the couch, stalking up your body like you were his prey.

He wedged himself in between your thighs, lining him up with your pussy and shoving it back in, hitting every part of you. He stayed still inside you, every inch of him covered with you. And he kissed you. He kissed you with his tongue, teeth, with his hands. He was all over you, covering every sense and taking the attention of all your thoughts.

"I love you," he muttered, "I love you so much."

"I love you too," you whispered.

"Good," he smirked, "now take it."

And he was thrusting into you like he didn't love you at all. Hitting every part of you that was only for him to hit. Each slap of his hips hitting into your thighs it hurt, but only in the most pleasurable way. You moaned, wrapping your legs around him, trying to somehow bring him in harder, deeper.

One hand by your head, holding him up, the other latching around your throat as he kissed you, all tongues and sloppy. the only sounds being the squelching of your painfully wet pussy and your tiny whimpers, being lost in his mouth.

"I want you to cum," he said, pulling himself away from your mouth, keeping his eyes locked onto your as you moaned under him, breathless and sweaty. "Now, I want you to cum now," he said, angling himself differently, and thrusting harder, hitting you in a spot that made you feel like you were gunna explode.

You were going to explode, especially when he ordered, "touch yourself, make yourself cum."

Like a good girl, you rubbed small circles over your clit, helping him bring yourself back to that ledge you so desperately wanted to jump off.

Your walls tightened around him, and it was different. It was different than every other time. You were chanting his name, moaning "Mikey," over and over until you came, screaming his name and feeling elecricity down to your toes. Every part of you was on fire, and your muscles tightened, pulling him in closer while you squirted, for the very first time, soaking Mikey and the couch, pushing him out of your pussy.

He moved quickly, putting two fingers roughly inside you and moving them with ferocity as he coaxed you through the biggest orgasm you'd ever had. You screamed, loudly, honestly worrying Mikey that the neighbours would hear, so he clamped another hand over your mouth, keeping the noise contained. Your muffled screams just coaxed him to an orgasm on their own, he was sure of it.

He had been close to his climax, but this new change of events was okay with him. He could've cum just from knowing how well he satisfied you.

Your heavy breathing continued for a minute, and in a cock drunk state you looked at him, smiling stupidly while he just watched you, still softly fingering you, keeping his eyes locked on yours.

"I made you squirt," he said, stupid, goofy grin all over his face. He continued stroking his fingers in you.

"You didn't cum," you pouted, looking at his still rock hard cock.

"Guess we'll have to just start all over again, pretty girl, but why don't we get you some water first."

And before you understood what was happening, two were standing in the kitchen, Mikey bending you over the counter and slipping his cock back inside you, wrapping his arms around you to hold you close, and to get his fingers back on you clit. Your back pressed into his chest, and he pumped into you slowly.

"More," you muttered, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts.

"Hmm," he mused, grinning down at the sight of your ass slapping against his abdomen. "I don't know if you can take it..."

"I can," you whined, trying to fuck yourself harder on his cock, but his arms restricted you, not letting you take what you wanted.

“Tell me you can take it," he said, "convince me that you can take it."

And you wriggled free of his grip, climbing onto the counter and laying on your back. Mikey watched with a grin on his face, as you spread your legs wide for him, angling yourself at the perfect height for him to ravage you again. He took his place between your thighs, and rubbed himself up and down on your pussy.

"I can take it," you promised, "I want you to fuck me like you hate me, daddy."

"Is that what you want?" he asked, continuing to slide his tip through your juices, leaving a trail down to your ass. He popped the tip into your pussy, pulling it out almost immediately.

"Please," you whined, "please fuck me, I can take it. I love it, I want you to hurt me. I want you to fuck me until you fuck me full of your cum. I want you to take it all out on me," you begged, staring straight into his eyes.

“Dirty girl," he said. He loved when you broke out of your shell. When you could talk about all your dirty desires with him. "Let's go to bed," he said, wicked smile ever present. "I want to ruin you on those cute pink sheets of yours."

#smut fic #emo #mcr #my chemical romance #x reader smut #mikey fucking way #mikey way x reader smut #mikey way

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valeskafics · 1 year

Text

Wolves and Dragons and Seahorses, Oh My! Fic Masterlist (ONGOING)

House of the Dragon SMAU

Main Pairing(s): Jace Velaryon x Stark!Reader, Aegon Targaryen II x Stark!Reader, Aemond Targaryen x Stark!Reader,

Other Pairing(s): Helaena Targaryen x Cregan Stark, Sara Snow x Luke Velaryon

Intro

Chapter 1: Mercury is in Retrograde

Chapter 2: 3 Drones and a Queen [Alternatively: You Done Messed Up, A-Aemond]

Chapter 3: Boys R St00pid

Chapter 4: Heyy With Two Y’s [Alternatively: He Touched The Butt [On Accident!)]

Chapter 5: Grey Sweatpants [Alternatively: How Bizarre]

Chapter 6: A Little Bit Dramatic [Alternatively: Damn, Little Lady, You Sure Can Put It Away]

Chapter 7: The Ghost of Fraternity Row [Alternatively: Big Time Simp]

Chapter 8: Halloweenie [Alternatively: He’s Looking. Respectfully.]

Chapter 9: 3 for 3 [Alternatively *You’re.]

Chapter 10: A Gentlemen’s Agreement [Alternatively: Sorry For Being Inclusive]

Chapter 11: We Are Not The Same [Alternatively: Daddy Issues]

Chapter 12: Horny on Main [Alternatively: I Just Kant]

Chapter 13: NyQuil [Alternatively: She Thinks I’m Adorable]

Chapter 14: Spaghetti Dinner [Alternatively: Study “Date”]

Chapter 15: Go Touch Grass [Alternatively: Ok Thank You Dr. Phil]

Chapter 16: Do You Like Dragons? [Alternatively: Is This Our New Foreplay?]

Chapter 17: Did You Just Defend Me? [Alternatively: Good Boys Go Bad]

Chapter 18: Style [Alternatively: Horni Police]

Chapter 19: The Long Game [Alternatively: All Too Well]

Chapter 20: Yelp Review [Alternatively: Jinx Again]

Chapter 21: The Village Idiot [Alternatively: The Evil is Defeated]

Chapter 22: Devil On My Shoulder [Alternatively: Emotional Boner]

Chapter 23: Here’s The Sitch [Alternatively: Just a Toe]

Chapter 24: Average Sized King [Alternatively: Call Me Abuelita]

Chapter 25: Princess Protection Squad [Alternatively: Bitch, You’re My Soulmate]

Chapter 26: Cruel [Alternatively: Why Is This Floor On The Floor]

Chapter 27: Major Plastic Sabotage [Alternatively: She Loves Me!!]

Chapter 28: Go Little Rockstar [Alternatively: Hibernating Bear]

Chapter 29: Back in the Game [Alternatively: Honor to Us All]

Chapter 30: Brendon Urie Meeting [Alternatively: Sexcapades]

Chapter 31: Sure, Jan [Alternatively: Let's Rock This Bitch]

Chapter 32: Friendlily [Alternatively: Gina Linetti Coded]

Chapter 33: Who The Hell Is Kevin? [Alternatively: Internationally Wanted Criminal Ezra Miller]

Chapter 34: Especially [Alternatively: Birthday Shh]

Chapter 35: Prostate Exam [Alternatively: IDK Her]

Chapter 36: TBD

Chapter 37: TBD

Chapter 38: TBD

Chapter 39: TBD

Chapter 40: TBD - FINALE

“Come What May” - Aemond Drabble (Prior to Chapter 1)

“The Back to School Mixer” - Aegon Drabble (Prior to Chapter 1)

Google Searches (Chapter 1.5)

“Thanksgiving Dinner” - Aegon Drabble (Between Chapter 11 and 12)

"Under the Mistletoe" - Aemond Drabble (During Chapter 12)

“$10 and Grey Sweatpants” - Jace Drabble (Between Chapter 17 and 18)

“Happy New Year” - Aemond Drabble (Between Chapter 22 and 23)

“What the Cuck?” - Aemond & Aegon Drabble (Between Chapter 23 and 24)

"Totally Cucked" - Jace & Aegon Drabble (Between Chapter 24 and 25)

"Something Different" - Aegon Drabble (During Chapter 29)

Luke Being Unhinged On Twitter (#1, During Chapter 28) (#2, After Chapter 28), (#3, During Chapter 16)

#wolves dragons seahorses fic #masterlist #wolves dragons seahorses fic masterlist #jace #aegon #aemond #modern!jace #modern!aegon #modern!aemond #modern!aemond series #modern!aegon series #modern!jace series #jace series #aegon series #aemond series #hotd smau #stark!reader #fic masterlist

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bunnieswithknives · 1 year

Text

TWO OF US AU MASTERPOST

Finally got around to making a masterpost! I tried to keep it to the relevant stuff because I’ve posted a lot for this AU, but If you still want to see everything then you can search the whole tag here.

Also feel free to join the Discord: https://discord.gg/hkCKGQrDtK

Plot relevant stuff roughly chronological in order:

Two of us AU (Video) [bonus]

You don’t remember what she looks like? (Video)

David tries to convince Red murder is OK, [pt2]

Hey, that’s not how stairs work!

Low power, what's with your eyes?

Interview

Argument (Video)

New Invention (Video), stupid stupid

Memory problems

Clayhill Killer

David feels bad for murder

Full of electricity

Kills you to death

Worms (Video) [Bonus]

Post Cannon:

Long long time ago (Video)

Puppet David, Headache, little guy

Home sweet home, New clothes, Roller-skating

Ratburger?, Sons a worm

Puppet Antics:

IDEAS (Cannon episode)

Hug me (Video) [Bonus]

He died but he’s OK, [2], [3], [4], [5]

Family road trip!

Bonding

Brain friends, Prank , Siblings

uncreative Brendon

Workplace relations,

call that human trafficking

History lesson, cobbles and rhymes!

Beach day

Yum!

Warren fucking dies, Shrignold gives a pep talk

Homophobic butterfly, terrible advice

swear words, Duck rambles

Lesley BITES, Toothbrushes

puppet crossover

Upstairs

Some things never change

Pre-Cannon:

Ventriloquism

car accident, oh no!, Trauma

Punk David

Socializing

Family

They’ve been gone a long time

References, Worldbuilding, and Misc:

Magic system, Reanimation, Consequences for my actions!???

Roy and Lesley, Alive Roy and Lesley

David ref, Red ref, Duck [Color ref], More duck

Teachers, alive teachers

Big boys and bigger boys, Brain friends, pallet swapped, Recolors

Perfect Case In Point (Video)

Reanimator poster

Red’s family

Hostage AU, Dress up, Home is where the heart is

Red but he’s an angry ghost AU

Spider David AU, Spider lore, monster, Mother of puppets, mind control , Puppet Rowan, Ochyro

#dhmis #dhmis au #don't hug me i'm scared #two of us AU #masterpost #I might organize this better later #but its hopefully coherent enough for now

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soup-is-nice-sometimes · 2 months

Text

warning brendon mention + also excessive usage of brackets and like no punctuation/formatting except for paragraph breaks iM SORRY

sick and tired of ppl saying panic went to shit after ryan and jon left like yes it downgraded (compared to afycso my fave album from them) B U T ian (even tho he was only there for a few years) and dallon (who stayed on til 2017 oh how he put up with a lot of bs over the years) rlly kept it from tanking in those key years imo

like dallon is credited w writing most of v&v (with the exception of "nearly witches" - ryan wrote that) and all of twtltytd (is that even the album name idk i dont rlly listen to post ryan panic sorry not sorry) and he played bass not only for the end of pretty odd touring but also as part of the band til 2015 and then continued touring til 2017 (plus apparently brendon stopped him from releasing a song w 21 pilots which is actually why im writing this lmfao) like

dallons writing was on a similar level to ryans and it feels mean/unfair to reduce those albums that he did write to "shit" bc ryan wasnt there

and yes doab has a couple of bops (crazy = genius and also la devotee imo) but overall they dont cancel out what is mostly a shit album (ok yes dont threaten me w a good time is okay too but he did NOT make those high heels work good lord) esp cause there were literally none of the ogs except brendon on that)

and ofc pftw is ass if i ever hear high hopes or hey look ma i made it i actively try and leave wherever i am (they fucking played high hopes at a skate night i went to WHEN I WAS COSPLAYING RYAN ROSE VEST)

also side note fuck u brendon for continuing to play camisado after ryan left even tho it was like the one song he asked you to stop performing it cause it was rlly personal to him AND YOU DIDNT LISTEN (ofc all the songs were personal to him but camisado was one of the ones that he specifically drew on his experiences w/ his father to write)

also side note 2 imo panic died when spencer left (2013) but was temporarily revived til dallon left (2017) and brendons been dragging its corpse around for the last 6 years. and idc what anyone says the touring artists he played with do not count as panic cause no offence but like their title says theyre TOURING ARTISTS (like how dallon didnt consider himself a part of panic when he was touring w em til they asked him officially and then when he "stopped contributing creatively" - his words) like i rlly doubt ppl can name them off the top of their heads (altho theyre underappreciated for dealing w brendon)

if you've read this far PLEASE feel free to comment (? is taht what its called here) and/or reblog w ur additions/opinions im fairly open-minded abt others ideas!

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supersecretmetalocalypseblog · 2 months

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I know everyone's already said shit like this but that shot where Dick Knubbler kisses the production booth or whatever in AOTD? profound. I feel that scene in my heart and soul and also in all of my bones. It's so tender and sweet. This shot was just so overwhelming for me for some reason, when I think about it i get teary eyed. It just feels like it has so much emotion and stuff in it, i feel it all at once. it's like "oh he's the individual ever! that's dick knubbler!! i love him???? Yeah okay this rocks! This movie rocks!"

And then i get mad and i'm like "there's no god damn way i'm getting emotional over a character named DICK KNUBBLER??????"

^^^^shots like these are going to put me in an early grave!

(A bit more below the cut here, but this is where spoilers for the plot are gonna be, so watch ur back if you haven't seen Army of the Doomstar yet)

NOTHING could've fundamentally prepare me for how viscerally upset I would feel about him dying. When he first showed up in Dethwater, i was like "yeah, this guy's funny i guess. I like him" but holy shit? and he's not even my favorite metalocalypse character or anything, but this right here? oh it's so over for me. He's so??? why? I get so sad every time I remember these two shots. It's like he's treated with so much respect (aesthetically and writing wise i mean) because they know what they're about to do. Look at him, look at how he's changed. he's serious AND silly! He's got the weight of the world on his shoulders, he's gotta help Dethklok! He's such a real guy, y'know? That's Dick Knubbler! And the way that death is part of the show's gimmick like "haha this is funny look how brutal it is" and then for THIS to happen? and it isn't gory and it isn't funny. It's serene. It's sad. It's emotional, and cinematic and GORGEOUS! There's a kindness and a huge melancholy feeling over the whole scene. HE's so beautiful here, like you know your about to watch an ally fucking die so hard, and he's so chill about it. "this is bigger than me" sort of energy. and he loves Dethklok, and Dethklok loves him! that's why this scene fucking sucks so hard I want to throw up its so good.... idk clearly i'm feeling sappy right now. the long story short is i'm going to kill brendon small for his damages to my emotional state lol.

#metalocalypse #mtl #dick knubbler #metalocalypse aotd #aotd spoilers #such a non analysis lol #I don't think i said nothing here #still though its how i feel

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kidstemplatte · 6 months

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i asked my best friend who doesn’t know ghost to name the papas and give them personalities.

here is what she said. i can’t stop laughing. she nailed it. i’m literally in tears.

nihil-

big fred energy. i feel like he’s like farkle from girl meets world. nerd asf and very annoying. messed around in his moms makeup for halloween, no older than 25 but still lives with his parents.

primo-

has a fucking name like linus the mystical. oh this bitch wishes he was the fucking wizard from sofia the first. he has mad vision problems and that’s why his eye makeup is fucked up. lil slytherin ass about to cast a spell on you at a magic themed restaurant. cheap ass costume (he bought it from party city)

secondo-

this is tate from murder house, bitch ass needs anger management classes asap. frequent victim of flashback. he really hates tomatoes. permanently constipated and rlly upset about it

terzo-

william. the least weird so far but also the worst makeup. best outfit though. lowkey giving brendon urie v&v era. but he makes these high heels work (ik it’s not v&v leave me alone) his fruity ass will not walk on wet grass and only drinks mimosas even at night. he thinks he gets bitches but he actually has zero game.

(papa) copia-

oh his name is like angelo or smth. do not get me started on this bitch. while all the others were significantly under 30 this man is like 60. he hates the mailman and gets really pissed when his neighbors’ dog barks. his house is like the neighborhood haunted house and the kids knock on his door as a dare on halloween and he answers the door every 4th kid and tells them to fuck off. his ass saw the movie saw once and said this is my new look forever. he only leaves his house once a week for a 10 microwaveable meals and an entire jar of theatre grade black and white face paint.

cardinal copia-

holy fuck this bitch (paul) is the worst one. makeup still bad but also he didn’t even try. he thinks he’s the shit but he’s the most annoying one, worse than fred, no one likes him. he asks everyone to call him frederick the fierce or some shit and they’re all like “shut up paul” his favorite movie character is uncle fester and he gets way too into the younger one’s jokes in the way millennials try to assimilate w gen z humor, but his 45 yr old ass always fails

#the band ghost #ghost band #ghost #papa emeritus iii #terzo #papa emeritus #papa terzo #papa emeritus x reader #papa copia #copia #cardinal copia #popia #secondo #ghost memes #papa emeritus 2 #papa primo #primo

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zmbief00d · 16 days

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my reasons 2 why shayne n courtney marriage is fake (im gonna cry if its real, i got sm proof)

if they r married then congrats but i REFUSE to believe when its on april fools day n by smosh

"ian said it was real" bitch, its ian. hes literally such a big troll dude, i dont trust things ian says that often (still love u tho ian)

smosh can commit to bits n lying. ex: ian n anthony walking for an hour straight when everyone thought it would be a cool skit, arasha's marvel lie, angela's lie, etc

they have kissed so many times for skits, same as ian n anthony, n other smosh members. like- its not crazy that they kissed in the photos, they've done it before and other members have kissed eachother too for skits!!! it's basically normal for smosh members to kiss eachother for bits!!!

they're friends can be on the prank!!! i wouldn't be suprised if they are!!!

i feel like damian would at least be at the wedding too!!! like hes been one of shaynes best friends since he was like 17, HES GONNA BE AT THE WEDDING BRO!!!!!!

but "oh theres photos from a few months ago of the proposal!!" ppl plan things in advance bro! they r a comedy channel, they might plan for april fools in advanced! ik i plan for halloween literally the second it's finished, its normal to plan for holidays early! its like who ppl get ready for christmas as soon as halloweens done too!!!

if ppl where able to get photos of ned from the try guys cheating on his wife then i feel like ppl would be able to get photos and/or see shayne n courtney on a date in public!!!!! unless they r super secretive or the paparazzi/die hard fans didn't care, i feel like it would be pretty hard for ppl not to have at least a photo or two of them together

when damian n saige got together, courtney n keith called them out so quickly if i remember correctly. like i dont know if shayne n courtney would be able to keep the cast plus themselves quiet long enough for there relationship to grow to a wedding bro. someone would have accidentally let it slip (tho it could always be cut during edits so take this as a grain of salt, but it could also be posted on instagram by a member as a slip up like how pete wentz accidentally revealed brendon urie's wife's pregnancy)

plus remember that one time jake paul or whoever n that one girl faked a wedding down to the t, like its been done before i wouldnt be surprised if they did it.

lastly, my most important proof. THEY. ARE. ACTORS!!!! ITS THERE JOB!!!!!!!!!! they could have easily faked being in love or some sh*t, there job is to act, they should know how to act!!! like, i feel like this is pretty obvious at this point guys...

what it possibly could be idfk

could be pulling a danny gonzalez where they prank there fans, ik dannys fans figure it out quickly but he also doesn't work for a big company or corporate or whatever the f*** smosh is!! like they have more money to afford this sh*t!!!

could always just be for some big skit, tho idk if they would go THIS out for a skit

maybe lets do this is back idk idk idk

or, its just a april fools prank.

idkidkidkidk i need irrefutable proof that its real before i believe it, i could be horribly wrong tho n spent like a while stacking this all up for it to, in fact, be real. i just think we need to take other shit into consideration before jumping head first into believing it ig. this is just my opinion tho, im not trying to be disrespectful or anything!!!!!

(sorry if anything is miss spelled, i was in a manic state while writing it guys- also if i got any information wrong with smosh history feel free to correct me!!)

#smosh #smoshblr #courtney miller #shayne topp #smosh games #smosh pit #smosh squad #shartney

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pipartuuli · 30 days

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Since I was mentioning how much I love the song, I wanted to do a mini-dissection of "Could This Be The End" from Brendon Small's Galaktikon II! I know there are some different interpretations of the lyrics and perspectives of who's singing what, so I'm throwing mine into the arena!

Key:

Salacia/The Tribunal in green

Dethklok in red

The Storm/The Army of the Doomstar in Orange

Narrator/Muse/Third Person in blue

Thoughts in italics

(NOTE: This dissection inherently relies on Galaktikon II being a continuation of Metalocalypse. I know it's "not" [wink wink] because of all the AS shit that happened in the 2010s but like... let's be real. This is Metalocalypse.)

We got The Storm* coming in now

And they’re almost in range

And we’re cloaked in white silence

In the valley of the Falcon’s rage**

[This one is from the perspective of the Tribunal/Salacia, lying in wait in the arctic snow with Falconback. It’s likely they already have Dethklok captured and strapped into Falconback by this point.

* “The Storm” here refers to The Army of the Doomstar (the fans) as indicated in G2’s version of the call-to-action “Song of Salvation” equivalent, “Become the Storm”, and as sung from the perspective of The Whale Prophet/Goddess in “The Ocean Galaktik” in which she says they are the elements (rain, stardust, etc.)

** I believe the lyrics on Genius have this listed as “range”, but I don’t think Brendon rhymed “range” with “range”. I just don’t. Fight me if you want, but Genius is just wrong.]

(But we wait)

Gotta wait for the first wave

(Breach the gate)

And you can see the Storm is closer now

(Thunder blast)

It’s a lightning infestation

(Light the match)

And we’ll kick ‘em where they stand

[This one is a back and forth between Salacia’s minions (in parentheses) and Salacia giving them orders – he’s using his very classic “we must wait” line here! At the end of this section, with the “light the match” line, that’s probably where Falconback is started up.]

Could this be the end?

Time is terminated

Could this be the end?

[This one is Dethklok, likely beginning to feel the fear as Falconback is whirring to life with them in it. They’re out of time.]

(Punch the code)

Now we get the Falcon flying now

(Lock and load)

The Star is getting nearer

(Spin the wheel)

It’s a coffin for them all

(Make them kneel)

Submit or begone!

[Another back and forth between Salacia and his minions. The Doomstar is reaching its zenith and Falconback is really starting to centrifuge!]

Whoa-oh-oh-whoa

(Whoa Whoa-oa-oa)

[Dethklok, now REALLY getting scared, almost mournful. Specifically, I think this is Skwisgaar and Toki. Their vocals layered is similar to how their guitar tracks are layered.]

I can’t see you

I can’t break through

Surprise – me too

It’s down to you

[Still Dethklok – they’re trying to break free of Falconback, but no luck. I believe each of these lines is being sung by different band members. I have SUPER loose reasoning, and this is more what’s in my heart than being from any real evidence in the song, but here we go:

- I can’t see you (Pickles – by process of elimination; see the rest)

- I can’t break through (Skwisgaar – I swear I can hear a very subtle “s” at the end of that can’t(s)…)

- Surprise – me too (Toki – just… seems like a Toki thing to say, and the slight vibrato in the ‘whoa!’ kind of reminds me of how Brendon did his vocals in DSR.)

- It’s down to you (I’m very torn between this being Murderface or Nathan. I think it makes the most sense from the perspective of the story for this to be Murderface pleading with Nathan that everything rests on him – because everything in Metalocalypse ALWAYS rests on Nathan, and that’s what we see in AOTD with Nathan throwing himself into the beam to disrupt Falconback. HOWEVER, the next line in the song REALLY songs like it has a lisp in it, which would perhaps make this Nathan instead pleading with Murderface? Which I like – the band saves Murderface, and Murderface saves the band! Perhaps this is his “throwing a snowball at Salacia” moment?? Either interpretation is valid; I waffle back and forth all the time.]

Yea-ea-eah, we are the dust* from stars now

Yea-ea-eah, we know we own the light

Yea-ea-eah, we break** the atmosphere now

Yea-ea-eah, the end is in our sights!

[*Okay, THIS is where I swear I can hear a lisp – it sounds like “duscht”, which would be a callback to “My Name Is Murder” in which he says “you’ll burn to duscht”. This is why I think the previous section has Nathan telling Murderface to save them.

**I think Genius says this word is “bring”, but “break” makes more sense to me. Either or.

Dethklok again here! The “we know we own the light” implies that they’ve managed to wrest back the Dethlights for themselves – or at least they’re fighting back to do so! I’m not sure if all of them are freed at this point, but there’s hope in this verse. Falconback is starting to crumble, or it’s not siphoning off the Doomstar’s Dethlights like Salacia had hoped it would. Dethklok is fighting back.]

Whoa-oh-oh-whoa

(Whoa Whoa-oa-oa)

[Dethklok again. Toki and Skwisgaar at first, but more voices join in on this one – it’s all of them.]

The centrifuge is spinning

And the Star draws its path

The five choose to sacrifice

This darkened magnetized wrath

And the demon is descending

Closer to its host

The metal core keeps spinning

While the Storm holds the coast

[I think this is the first section we get from the Army of the Doomstar’s perspective! They’re watching Dethklok in Falconback from their spot along the shoreline where they’ve arrived to battle Salacia’s army. They’re trying to reach Dethklok.]

Whoa-oah, leave their souls!

We were always meant to go

Whoa-oah, let it be

One last strike with our sword!

See* them call the light

We must die but we lived our lives

[*Genius has this listed as “save”, but I think it’s “see” – the Army is watching Dethklok struggling to take the Dethlights back from Salacia. Unlike in AoTD, they don’t break out of Falconback in G2 – they simply siphon away the Dethlights for their own use by using the Army as a conduit – an amplifier.

Another one from the perspective of the Army, and I think specifically the first four lines are Offdensen! He knows the fans are worried about Dethklok in peril, but he’s reassuring everyone that everyone present is carrying out the roles that they are destined to carry out. Dethklok are sacrificing themselves for the planet, and now it’s the Army’s turn to do the same. The final two lines with the layered vocals are from the perspective of the entire Army. They’re ready to die for Dethklok – and for Earth. This is the “open hand” scene – they’re letting the Dethlights pass through them. There are so many more of them than there are of Salacia’s army that they’re quickly overpowering Falconback.]

Could this be the end? (Yeah)

Could this be the end? (Whoa-oa)

Could this be the end?

[Dethklok again – it has to be terrifying to be filled with the Dethlights. AoTD showed us it doesn’t exactly FEEL great, so maybe they really do feel like they’re ripping apart and burning alive as the lights fill them and Falconback begins to buckle under their power.]

Falcon screams

Mechanics melting white

The demon Star moves closer

Shooting flaming bloody light

[I think this is from the perspective of a general “narrator”, or “muse” – this is a third party description of what’s happening. Falconback can’t handle the Dethlights as Dethklok powers up – it’s starting to melt. The Doomstar is at its zenith now. The Army of the Doomstar is filled with light, directing it all to Dethklok.]

The Lights of Deth

Have built to their strength

The pentagram of power

Keeps the demon away

[Salacia can’t take hold of the Dethlights for himself because of the POWER OF FRIENDSHIP!]

The Star and the planet

And the universe quake

The Storm builds in fury

Crushing death in its wake

[Dethklok and the Army are winning. Salacia’s army has fallen.]

We left ourselves behind

And we looked within

We know that we must die

But for now – we live!

[Back to Dethklok – this is their victory cry! As Falconback completely crumbles and Salacia is vaporized by the Dethlights, Dethklok are flung free. They reached with their open hand to their friends, family, and fans, and because of it, they were victorious. They trusted and loved, and because of it, they lived.

And this is where my hot takes come in.

I know a lot of people take this part of the song to mean that Dethklok have shed their mortal flesh and become full-fledged gods, but I don’t think that aligns with the message of Metalocalypse. Metalocalypse is about the strength and power normal, mortal humans can have when they band together and show each other love and compassion (hand versus fist, do it all for my brother, etc.) I think this last line here is very literal – Dethklok was ready to die, and because they're just regular ol' humans, one day they will. Hell, they've come closer to death than a LOT of people MANY times. But today isn't that day. For now, they live.]

Alright! (x4)

WE LIVE!

[This is everyone left alive – Dethklok and the Army, all of them alike – celebrating. They’ve taken back their planet! I love how calm and simple the music becomes during the “alright”s after the mounting pressure and cacophony of the previous verses. You can really get a sense of Dethklok standing there in the snow, terrified and confused as all hell about what’s just happened, looking up to see the Army of the Doomstar rushing towards them full of wild excitement, Nathan pumping his fist into the air as in the final moment of AoTD to give that one last “WE LIVE!” It’s got such a celebratory feel!]

Could this be the end? (x4)

[Dethklok again. Unlike the other times this is sung in the song, here it’s being asked to mean “is the evil really gone? Is it all over?” They’re in disbelief, after everything they’ve been through, that five pampered idiot rockstars like them – along with the Army – really managed to pull off saving the entire world from the apocalypse.]

...

Anyway, uh, I banged this out after several consecutive nights of not enough sleep and after downing WAY too much caffeine, so apologies for any incoherencies or mistakes. I just... I just love this song so much. :3

#metalocalypse #mtl #dethklok #galaktikon ii #brendon small #i entered a fugue state to write this #my heart rate still races every time I hear this come on while I'm driving or working out #spoilers #army of the doomstar #aotd

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loverontheleft · 2 months

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Yes (revised)

Original request: ok, this request is very specific because I fantasize about it a lot. you and b are roommates (nonfamous AU) and ur in the shower, rubbing one out, having a grand ol’ time and b gets home and BARRELS into the bathroom cuz he has to pEE like nOW and obvs catches on to what ur up to and offers a hand. or a mouth. or a dick. whatevs.

AU!Brendon x reader.

Word count: 2.7k➡️6.7k

Warnings: language, dirty talk, oral, brief thigh-riding because it’s me, shower sex, talk of spanking, general feelings and shit.

-||-

The shower is the perfect temperature; the ceramic tiles are no longer cold to the touch and you’re leaning against the wall with your handheld shower-head pulsing on a low pressure between your legs. “Oh fuck,” you sigh, rolling your hips against the stream. You’re lost in the sensation, letting yourself imagine Brendon’s soft, eager tongue working at your clit, when the floor outside your bathroom door creaks. Before you can do anything, the door slams open; Brendon’s flying into your bathroom, and you’re shrieking.

“Shit! What the fuck?!”

Brendon babbles his apologies. “Got stuck in crazy traffic had to pee barely made it inside couldn’t make it to my bathroom,” he says in one breath, sighing in relief. You’re trying to catch your breath; the showerhead is still between your legs and when you move it, it hits at just the right angle. You whimper a little, before clapping a hand over your mouth in horror.

“Y/n?” You can practically hear Brendon’s head cock to the side. “Are you…okay?”

“Uh huh,” you manage in a strained voice, silently willing him to leave.

“Okay…you just sounded…Wait a minute—are you getting off in there?”

There’s a long pause, and you know that says more than enough. You choose honesty. “I was trying to,” you say through gritted teeth, and he makes a thoughtful sound. “Until my roommate came bursting in and threw off my—”

“Groove?” Brendon suggests, and you want to throttle him. “My bad. But if you want to start again, I could hel—”

“No,” you cut him off sharply, replacing the shower head in its clip and slamming the water off.

“Just saying, I apparently owe you, and I’ve helped bef—”

“Shut up,” you tell him, wrapping yourself in a towel and flinging the curtain back. “We said we wouldn’t talk about that again.” His gaze moves slowly over your body wrapped in the towel, and he looks up at you with a glint in his eyes. “Seriously, Brendon. That was a one-time thing; we were both incredibly drunk and horny, and we didn’t even—you just—we just—I just—” you falter, fumbling for the words. You’re equally aroused at the memory and frustrated that he’s being so casual about it. All these months later and you still aren’t sure what his feelings are, but his joking now makes you think it wasn’t that serious for him—which hurts. But the way he’s looking at you now—

“Yeah,” Brendon murmurs, cutting off your thoughts and still eying you. “I just fingered you while we just made out and you just gave me one of the best han—”

“Shut up!” You press your hands to your face. “You promised!”

Brendon holds up both hands innocently as he heads for the door. Stepping through, he looks back at you. “Well, the offer stands. You know where to find me if you decide you need me, darlin.”

You freeze at the name and turn to stare at him. He arches an eyebrow and bites his lip suggestively; you storm past him into your room across the hall.

“Oh, don’t be angry, Y/n. I just want to help!” He calls through your door, which you’ve just slammed shut. “I’m sorry, darlin!”

-||-

“Fuck—fuck—fuck—no!” You moan, rolling onto your stomach, fingers rubbing at your clit furiously. “Why—fuck!” You’re almost in tears, and you bury your face in your pillow, moaning in desperation. You need to come. “Well, the offer stands. You know where to find me if you decide you need me, darlin.” His voice echoes in your head, and you freeze, remembering that night. You can feel your heart rate spiking; you try to press the memories back into their small box.

-//- 6 months earlier -\\-

It’s been a hell of a week for both of you at your respective jobs, and Brendon has declared it Drunk Movie Night as a coping mechanism. He’s in the kitchen, and you’re sprawled on the couch waiting for him to come back with the first round of drinks. He’s promised something incredible and delicious, and you’re looking forward to it.

You can hear his footsteps; you look up. He’s got two large glasses in his hand, filled with clear liquid. “What is that?”

“No spoilers,” Brendon chides playfully, passing you a glass. He takes a long sip, and you do the same. You choke, immediately coughing. “It’s straight tequila,” he admits, making you laugh.

“You aren’t fucking around on this drunk movie night thing, I see.” Better prepared now, you take a small sip from your glass. Brendon nods and settles on the couch at the opposite end. Glass in one hand, remote in the other, you turn on the tv. When you open Hulu, prepared to scroll, Brendon flings a hand at you and then points at the screen.

“Black Swan,” he says. You blink at him. Brendon can see your confusion, and he clarifies. “Black Swan. The Natalie Portman ballet movie. Wait. You’ve never seen it?”

You shake your head, commenting that he doesn’t seem like the type for a ballet film, and Brendon shrugs. “It’s deeply fucked up. You’d like it.”

“…thanks, I think?”

He grins, lounging back against the couch cushions. You click Play.

-||-

You’re both done with your first tumblers of tequila and halfway through a refill. You’ve done the math; the two of you are drinking from sixteen-ounce glasses, so being halfway through a second glass means you’re at the equivalent of your sixth margarita, sans any mixer. But you don’t need math to know you’re both more than a little drunk when Natalie Portman and Mila Kunis lunge at each other in the bedroom. You toss a pillow in Brendon’s direction; it ricochets off his foot and falls to the ground.

“You pervert. This is why you wanted to watch Black Swan?”

“It’s a definite factor,” Brendon murmurs, his eyes on the screen. You glance back at the tv, and your breath catches. You’re not enjoying this the way Brendon is; instead, you are painfully aware of how long it’s been since someone pushed you onto a bed like that. You’ve been so caught up in work, but you’ve also been trying to process your feelings for Brendon. Living together has been mostly great, though having him in such close proximity has been hell on your emotions. You’d honestly expected living together to end your romantic interest, because you’d see all of his bad habits and annoying tendencies—but it hasn’t. If anything, it has only solidified your feelings.

“I should‘ve known you didn’t care about ballet,” you grumble, and Brendon laughs, draining his glass. As he swallows, his eyes leave the film, and he looks at you. You’re aware of the heat in his gaze; your breathing gets even shallower. He’s never seemed interested in you, but the look in his eyes now makes you wonder if you’ve been missing signs from him the way he’s been missing them from you.

You cave. “What?”

Brendon shrugs. “We’ve lived together for fifteen months, and you haven’t had anyone over.”

Your mind catches on the ‘fifteen months’ detail; you can’t help but think that he’s been keeping track. Why not just say ‘a year’ or ‘more than a year’? He clears his throat, and you realize he’s waiting for something. “Oh, sorry. Was that a question?”

“I guess my question is, don’t you miss it?” He gestures at the screen, where Natalie Portman is writhing on her bed. You desperately do, and you desperately want him. You can’t tell him that though; you need to deflect.

“I don’t miss Mila Kunis eating me out, no,” you manage, and Brendon snorts, shaking his head. “Why are we talking about this?”

“Because you need to get laid.”

“…Do I?”

You wonder if he can feel the tension and desire radiating from you. He nods, turning to face you more fully, and you think your heart is going to explode. His face is flushed, his hand is inching across the space between you, and his eyes are moving between yours and your lips. You can’t breathe.

“Yeah. You do.”

You can feel your pulse in your ears. Before you can respond, Brendon’s sliding across the couch and kissing you deeply. You gasp when his tongue finds yours, and he pulls back. “Shit, I’m so sorr—”

But you cut him off, grabbing him by the back of the head and crushing his mouth back over yours. He groans into your mouth, and you move together as he guides you into his lap so you can straddle him. The kiss is desperate and urgent; you’re tugging at his hair, he’s clutching you closer, and your hands are roaming over each other. He’s hard, and you’re keenly aware of how wet you are. You moan and scratch at his chest, begging for more. Instead of giving you more though, Brendon pulls back and looks at you closely.

“Hang on a sec. Are you drunk?” He asks in a rough voice, hands framing your face and thumbs stroking your cheekbones as he peers into your eyes. You know he knows how much you’ve had. He’s been pouring the tequila all night. You know there’s no point in lying. You nod, and you know the answer to the question you’re about to ask.

“Are you?”

“Yeah,” Brendon admits, breathing hard. “Should we—you can’t consent if you’re—I don’t want to push—”

“Let’s just…not have sex then,” you suggest, still trying to convince yourself that it’s the right choice, the responsible choice, even as the words leave your mouth. You really want to have sex with him.

“Let’s just not have sex,” Brendon agrees, staring at you longingly. “But…if it’s okay with you—can we keep—” and he gestures between the two of you.

“Please,” you moan, kissing him again. You can feel how hard he is, can feel his erection pressing into you. You bear down against him; you think you could probably come even if all you two do for the rest of the night is make out. If he’ll let you grind on him while he kisses you like this, you know you’ll come.

-||-

You’re not sure how long you’ve been kissing when you find your hand wandering down and your fingers grazing his cock. He curses under his breath, staring at you hungrily.

“Is this okay? Me touching you?” Your voice trembles, and Brendon nods, leaning back. You can’t take your eyes off of his erection, can’t stop tracing the length of him; meanwhile, Brendon is groaning your name and pressing his hips up to feel more of your hand. Hearing him say your name like that makes you brave enough to ask. “Is this from me, or from Natalie and Mila?” You’ve chosen a teasing tone, but you’re desperate to know.

His own hands have made it down to your hips, and you can feel his fingertips tease the waistband of your leggings. “Fuck, it’s all you. It’s all for you. Can I touch you?” When you nod, he works a hand down into your leggings, murmuring how he can feel how wet you are through your underwear. “Is this okay?” He’s caressing you through your panties, pressing and rubbing lightly in a way that makes you regret suggesting abstinence.

“So okay,” you murmur, curling your hand around him through his sweatpants. “Is this?”

“Yeah,” Brendon says quickly. His face is slightly flushed; his hair is a mess, and he can’t take his eyes off of you. You stroke him intently, wishing you could really feel the hot weight of his cock in your hand.

“Even though we’re both drunk?” You don’t want to stop. You just don’t want him doubting anything or stressing.

“I think as long as we don’t actually have like—sex. Hands are fine.” You can see in his eyes that he desperately wants you too, and you love him for showing restraint. You also know that you can’t tell him you love him. Not now, anyway. Not like this. He interrupts your thoughts. “Hands are good. Are fingers good too?”

It takes you a moment to process what he means. When it clicks, when you register his two fingers between your thighs and the way they’ve spread to tease the edge of your underwear, you make yourself a little dizzy and nauseous from how fast you nod.

And then he’s got two fingers inside you, and everything aligns for you in total clarity. It just feels right: Brendon holding you, touching you like this. His fingers are, and you tell him this breathlessly, better than good—they’re absolutely perfect. His thumb rolls against your clit; your head falls backward, and you wonder if you should be embarrassed by how quickly he’s going to make you come.

“Hands aren’t sex, right?” You ask the question to try to temper your lust. You know your personal answer, but you need to make sure you’re on the same page. Brendon shakes his head.

“Hands and fingers are foreplay,” he murmurs against your neck.

“Right. Yes. Good. When does foreplay become sex?”

“Mouths,” Brendon says reluctantly. You whine, even though you expected that. You’ve been thinking about his tongue replacing his fingers, and if his tone is any indication, he has too.

“Mouths,” you agree, shifting to get his fingers deeper. “Can I—” and you tug at his sweatpants. “I want to touch you more. If you’d like that.”

“I really fucking would,” Brendon tells you, lifting his hips a little and leaning against the cushions to make moving his sweatpants and underwear down easier. You’ve shifted back in his lap, his fingers are still in you but at a different angle now, and you can’t stop staring at his cock. You’ve had your hand all over him, but feeling him through his sweatpants and seeing all of him, fully hard and curving back so the tip presses to his stomach, is different. Seeing the way beads of pre-cum roll from the head down his shaft makes you wish mouths didn’t count as sex. But you know Brendon is right. Better to linger here with hands and fingers.

Still, you need to hear it again. “Mouths are definitely sex, right?” You rub your thumb lightly over the tip of his cock, spreading the slick pre-cum and hoping he’s imagining your tongue doing the same thing. You’re definitely imagining his tongue replacing his thumb on your clit.

“Mouths are sex,” Brendon repeats, his eyes closed and head tipped back. “Wish they weren’t. Wish I could—wish you could—god, just your hand though…”

“Would normally just spit in my hand,” you tell him, and he opens his eyes to look at you. “But I should probably use something else to keep me from eventually…” you fumble for the words, but you can see he knows what you mean. If you just used spit to slick up his cock, you’d eventually end up sucking him off. You need to use something that’ll keep you from blowing him. “Lotion,” you decide finally, making him laugh.

“Gonna make me feel like a teenager again,” he murmurs. “Except your hand on my cock, jerking me off while we make out will be much better than anything I experienced as a teenager. Plus,” he adds, “I’ve got my fingers in your wet pussy.”

“Which is hopefully an upgrade from your masturbation sessions,” you tease, squirting some of the hand lotion you keep in a basket on your end table into your palm. You press closer to him again, whimpering happily as his fingers slide in deeper.

“Definitely an upgrade,” he assures you, bringing you in for a long kiss. You wrap your hand around him, already stroking eagerly. “Goddamn,” Brendon murmurs into your mouth. “Darlin, your hand feels so fucking good.”

“Love that,” you moan, working your fist over him. “Love you calling me that.”

“Love calling you that too.” His fingers curl inside you, seeking your G-spot, and you squeal, rocking against his hand. “You like that?”

“So good; you can go harder though,” you pant, squeezing his cock as you stroke downward. “Is this how you like it? Show me how you like your cock played with.”

“You’re so damn hot,” he groans. “Yeah, do it just like that—squeeze when you get to the base, twist on the way up, fuck yes…yes, god, you’re incredible. Don’t stop.”

“Won’t stop,” you assure him, moving against his fingers. “If you don’t. Shit, I’m close. The way you press right—yeah, like that, yes! And your thumb, fuck that’s—that’s gonna make me—oh god, Brendon, yes!”

“Want you to come all over my hand,” Brendon says, curling his fingers more insistently and picking up his pace. “Want to feel you let go; come hard, darlin.”

“Want to come together,” you counter, kissing up his neck and nipping at his earlobe. “Can we come together?”

“Fuck yeah; if you keep tightening your grip like that and then rubbing the tip with your— shit, is that your pinky pressing on, teasing my balls? Oh fuck, that’s great…”

“Guitar Hero was good for something—stretching my pinky,” you laugh breathlessly. Brendon chokes on his laughter, staring at you in wonder. “What?” You’re a little self-conscious, but you also love his eyes on you.

“You’re incredible,” he says simply. “Just incredible. God, I’m gonna come if you keep—darlin, need you to whisper in my ear that you want me to come.” He’s tense under you, his fingers are working steadily, and you’re right on the edge.

“Bren, I want you to come for me.” Your lips are right under his ear. “Need you to come for me so I can come on your fingers. God, I’m holding back, holding on; want you to—”

Brendon cuts you off with a desperate groan, kissing you fiercely and rocking his hips up into your grasp. “Coming,” he manages, flexing his fingers in you. “Come for me, darlin.”

You let the tension leave your body, and your orgasm rocks through you. You can feel him spilling over your hand, and you know from how he’s gasping your name that it feels good for him. Meanwhile, you’re trembling on his fingers, clutching his head to keep his mouth against yours. It’s hot waves of pleasure coursing over your whole body, and you can barely breathe from how good it feels to come like this with two of his fingers still curling and thrusting while his thumb keeps moving on your clit.

“Fuck,” Brendon groans, and you nod, going limp against him. He holds you close and slips his hand from your leggings.

“Fuck,” you agree, resting your forehead on his shoulder. You’re both trying to catch your breath when you ask, “was that a mistake?” You freeze. You didn’t mean to ask that.

Brendon tenses under you. “Do you think it was a mistake?” His voice is hesitant; you can’t read his tone otherwise.

“I don’t know.”

You do know. You know exactly how you feel. You don’t think it was a mistake; you love him, and you’re so content curled into him now. But if Brendon isn’t sure, if Brendon’s regretting it, then you’re not about to volunteer any of that.

“Okay…should we talk—”

You know where this is going. You have no interest in hearing him tell you how much you mean to him as a friend and how he doesn’t want to lose you or ruin your living situation.

You cut him off. “We don’t have to talk about it.” You can hear the shift in your own voice now. You’re getting guarded. You’ve never liked being vulnerable, and this feels pretty vulnerable.

“But maybe we should—”

“I’m gonna head to bed. We don’t have to talk about it,” you manage, crawling out of his lap. Your main goal is to get to your room before you burst into tears.

-//- the present -\\-

You open your eyes, groaning. You couldn’t stifle the memories, and you can’t stifle the feelings. Worse, you’re remembering how good his fingers felt. “No,” you say out loud. “No. No.”

His shower across the apartment turns on, and you freeze. “You know where to find me if you decide you need me, darlin.”

“Fuck.” You roll onto your back again and close your eyes, wondering if he’s touching himself while thinking of you. You remember how he moaned your name and bucked into your fist as his tongue teased yours and his fingers worked inside you. You can still feel his fingers curling when he made you come, and you can remember how his cock throbbed in your grasp. Fuck.

You can picture him in the shower, stroking his cock and panting your name. Your fingers move faster, and you’re arching your back, gasping and moaning; you’re almost there when — “You know where to find me if you decide you need me, darlin.”

“Son of a bitch.” There’s a shift internally; you feel like you’ve come to some conclusion. His voice in your head is breaking your concentration, so clearly you need to just go to the source.

You throw yourself out of bed and slip into a t-shirt and shorts, well aware of the slickness on your inner thighs. You’re not sure what your plan is as you pad across your apartment and toward his bathroom door quietly; still, you’re sure this is what you need. The water is running, but you can hear him through the door.

“Fuck,” he grunts, followed by a low groan of your name. You’re desperate for more, and you know it’s a bad idea to twist the doorknob and slip silently into his bathroom. You do it anyway. The room is foggy, and you lean against the wall opposite the shower.

You’re telling yourself you aren’t going to do anything—you’re just going to listen for a bit, then sneak back to your room and get yourself off—when you hear his fist start to slide over himself. Is he using shampoo, conditioner, or lube? The question pops into your head and you blush, biting on your knuckles. And what is he imagining? That night, your hand on him, stroking him urgently while he rubbed your clit? Or—is he thinking about your mouth? You feel a rush of want, and it makes you dizzy. You’re grateful for your knuckles in your mouth because they muffle your whimper.

“Y/n?”

Or you thought they did. You freeze.

“Y/n,” he sighs, his hand audibly picking up speed. You relax. He was just imagining things. “Darlin, your mouth,” he groans, and that’s one question answered. Your stomach tightens. “Honey, you’re gonna make me come if you keep sucking my cock like this; that’s it, fuck, please—oh shit yeah, suck just like—I’m gonna—god, I’m gonna eat your pussy so good, just you fucking wait.”

You can feel yourself getting wetter, and you try to slip your hand inside your shorts without making too much noise. A voice in your head tells you not to be greedy, to just keep this moment in your mind while you go back to your room, but you can’t walk away. You want to get yourself off by listening to him touch himself to the idea of a blowjob from you or going down on you.

“Y/n, oh God, you’re fingering yourself while you blow me? So hot. That’s it, darlin; ride your fingers, think about taking my cock. Fuck, you look so damn sexy, three fingers deep in your cunt. Think about my cock filling you; I’ll give it to you.” You’re in a lust-driven fog; you feel like you’re obeying him as you slide a third finger in. You feel incredibly full, and you can’t stop remembering how your fingers had to stretch to fully wrap around his cock. He’s right; three fingers are more realistic for imagining him inside you. You whimper again, and it’s silent for a moment.

“Fingering yourself, Y/n?”

At first you’re confused why he’s repeating himself, but then you realize that his tone is different this time; it’s less sex-fueled and more knowing, more amused. Fuck.

He pulls the shower curtain back with a snap; you don’t have time to pull your hand from your shorts, and he’s looking at you, hair soaking wet and plastered to his forehead, his erect cock in his hand.

“I—” you squeak, face aflame. “I’m—I was—” you realize your hand is still between your legs, and you yank it out quickly. It makes both of you moan—you at the loss, and Brendon at seeing how your fingers shine with your arousal.

“You here because you need some help, darlin?”

“Fuck,” you whimper, staring at his naked body and the way his fist is wrapped around his erection. The water is dripping down his body, his cock is throbbing, and he looks like he’s moments from coming. You want to watch, you want to make him come, you want him to keep groaning your name. You want him.

Brendon extends a hand, smiling at you softly. There’s no way you can spin this. You’re inside his bathroom, listening to him jerk off, and you’ve got your hand in your shorts. It’s obvious what’s happening. You’re in too deep; you might as well give in.

“Oh, hell,” you mutter, stripping your shirt off and shoving your shorts down before accepting his hand.

The water is hot, and you gasp as he presses himself to your back; you whimper when his mouth finds the back of your neck, and his hand reaches down to tease your entrance. “Brendon,” you moan when he slips two fingers into you; he groans that you’re so fucking tight, and he’s right, you are. He feels so good, and you desperately want more. His dick is pressed against your ass now, and you’re grinding back against him. “Give me three, let me really imagine your cock filling my pussy,” you beg.

“You heard that, huh?” He grins and bites gently at your neck. “Yeah, baby, I’ll give you three.” He pulls his fingers out instead; when you protest, he nips at your earlobe. “Patience. Need to do this right; don’t want to hurt you.” He stretches for a bottle of silicone lubricant on the built-in shower shelf, and you squirm against him happily. His cock throbs against you while he pours the lubricant over his fingers; you spread your legs and lean back against his chest. “There we are,” Brendon murmurs, sliding three slick fingers against you. “Now I can take care of my girl.” Your heart lurches happily at his words, but before you can comment, his fingers are back inside you.

“Darlin,” he murmurs, his breath hot in your ear. “You gonna make me promise not to talk about this later?” You let out a wordless whimper, and he bites down before sucking hard. “Because honestly, that’s just not going to work for me.” You gasp, and he grins, lips pressed to your skin. “If I’m doing this, if we’re doing this, it’s because you want me. Not just because you want to get off.”

“God, Brendon,” you sigh, arching your back and rubbing against his cock. “Yes.”

“Yes, you want me?” His voice is soft. “Or,” and his fingers stop moving in you, making you whine. “Yes, you’re gonna make me promise not to bring it up?”

“You,” you manage, grabbing his wrist and trying to get him to move again. “You.”

“More specific, honey.” He bites down again in a new spot as his fingers flex; you go limp against him with a soft cry, and he wraps his free arm around your waist. “Yes or no, do you want me? Beyond sex—do you want to be with me? Because that’s how I want you. Been driving me fucking crazy since that night; I can’t stop thinking about you. Have wanted you for so long.”

“Yes,” you whisper, rolling your head back on his shoulder.

“Yes or no, you’re going to let us talk about this later.”

“Yes,” you repeat, turning in his arms and clinging to him. His mouth crushes over yours; you kiss him urgently, desperately. “Yes, yes, yes,” you murmur between kisses, your hips rocking as you press his cock between you. “Yes.”

“Good,” Brendon says simply, sinking to his knees. You become aware of his thick bath mat, and you file that away for future reference before your mind goes blank. His arm around your waist tugs you closer; he nudges your legs apart with his shoulder. “Spread these perfect legs for me.”

“Fuck,” you breathe, both hands on his shoulders. “Brendon.”

“Yes, darlin?” He looks up at you from between your legs, and you whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders. He looks so serious; there’s not a hint of playfulness in his expression now. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you repeat, and he smiles faintly, biting his lip. You can read his mind. “I do know other words besides ‘fuck,’ ‘Brendon,’ and ‘yes,’” you manage, and he licks between your legs. “Fuck!”

“I’m sure you do,” he murmurs, “but I’m not sure that you’ll need them in the near future.” And with that, his face is pressed between your legs, licking and sucking eagerly as his fingers work their way up the back of your thigh. He laps at your clit tenderly and, when you’re moaning, he slips three fingers deep inside you from behind.

“Fuck!” You cling to him. You honestly think you could come right now if he told you to. Instead, he moans against you. It vibrates up through your body; you bend over, clutching his head. “Brendon,” you choke. “Please.”

“There’s a new word,” he mumbles, fingers speeding up while his tongue moves in gentle circles. “A good word. Please, what?”

“More,” you pant, hips rocking against his face. “More, baby, please.”

“Darlin,” he moans, grabbing one of your legs and guiding it over a shoulder. He’s breathing hard and licking over you longingly. “Love when you ask so sweetly.” His can fingers go deep now that you’re spread wide with a leg draped over one of his shoulders; you gasp, hips spasming. “More?”

“More,” you moan, nodding frantically and leaning back against the shower wall for leverage. “I can take more; give me more—really eat it, eat my pussy, B; oh fuck!” Brendon groans again, and his tongue goes deep between his fingers, rubbing alongside them as his lips close over you. He’s sliding them over you so gently while his tongue strokes you, and you think you may lose your mind from how good he is at eating you out.

“Oh god,” you whimper, tugging at his hair. “Oh fuck, Brendon!”

He nods against you, and his tongue presses and rubs; you cry out with your orgasm, legs shaking and trembling. His tongue and fingers keep going, keep pushing you over the edge, and his arm around your waist tightens when your legs give out; you slide off of him and drop to your knees. You’re both breathing hard, kneeling on the floor of his shower, with steam and hot water flooding your senses. He’s smiling at you so brilliantly, and you moan, pulling his mouth to yours. Both arms tangle around your waist and he pulls you flush against him, one of his legs slotting between yours. You whimper into his kiss and grind tentatively on his thigh, both of you gasping at the feeling.

“Hang on, darlin,” Brendon groans. “I can make it better.” He stretches an arm to reach behind him, and when he brings his hand back, you see the bottle of silicone lube again. Without taking his eyes off you, he pops the lid and pours it freely onto his thigh; you start moving again, and the ease with which you can ride his thigh now makes you louder than ever. “Ride it, grind this sweet pussy all over me, make yourself feel good.”

“Want you to feel good too,” you murmur, rocking your hips fervently. “Want you to feel good.”

“Trust me,” he grunts, grabbing your hair and pulling you in for a long, heated kiss. “Trust me, I feel good. You feel so good.”

“Yeah?” You nuzzle a spot under his ear, and he groans, grabbing your ass with both hands and moving you faster, pressing you down harder. “You like this?”

“Only thing better than feeling your sweet cunt against my thigh would be feeling you on my cock,” Brendon whispers in your ear, tongue flicking out to tease the shell, making you shiver. “But it’s okay if you’re not—if it’s too—”

“Brendon,” you whimper, squeezing his erection firmly. “Yes. I want to.” You reach down between your legs to collect some of the silicone lube, and, watching him longingly, you start stroking a slick hand over his cock.

“Fuck, darlin,” he moans, kissing you gently, his tongue brushing yours. You clutch the back of his head, your other hand still stroking fervently while your hips roll. “Gonna let me get you on my cock and make you feel so damn good?”

“Please,” you manage, kissing down his neck. “Please.�� He jerks back suddenly and you moan at the loss, but he’s climbing carefully to his feet and tugging you up too. “Brendon,” you gasp, and his lips are on yours as he pushes you up against the shower wall, nipping and sucking down your neck and collarbone. “Brendon, please.”

“Yeah, darlin, say my name.” He’s rocking against your thigh, cock slick with pre-cum and whatever he was using to jack off earlier, and you cry out. “I remember you liking how rough I fingered you,” he whispers in your ear. “You like getting fucked that way too?”

“Yes,” you whimper, spreading your legs on the mat, grateful for its traction keeping you upright. “Yes.”

“Shit, Y/n,” he groans, one hand gripping his cock as he guides it to your opening. “I’ve been thinking about this, about you, since—”

“Me too,” you admit, spreading your legs slightly to sink down on him. “Oh god!”

“Y/n,” Brendon grunts as he sheathes himself in you fully. “Your cunt—god, you’re incredible.” He grabs both of your hands with his and pins them over your head, thrusting into you quick and shallow. “Honey, if you’ve been thinking about it too—I gotta know, why did you go to bed that night without letting us talk about it?”

“Thought you thought it was a mistake,” you groan, crying out happily when he tugs at your hair.

“You’re the one who asked if it was,” Brendon points out, and you whine, nodding. “I never said I thought it was. Just asked you—and then you went to bed and made me promise the next day to never bring it up.”

“Got scared,” you admit. “Was self-conscious and scared, and—harder,” you pant, pushing your hips into his to meet his thrusts. “Harder, fuck me harder.” He groans and speeds up while going deeper, making you cry out with every stroke.

“Yes!” You squeal when he angles himself slightly and presses right where you want him with the head of his cock. “Fuck, yes, Brendon, yes, yes!”

“Up,” he commands, one hand leaving yours to grab your thigh. “You’re not going anywhere; I won’t let you fall.” You nod and carefully wrap a leg around his hips. “Other one too.” You lift the other, and he bites a spot low on your neck. “Don’t be scared. I’ve got you. I want you. Want this,” he groans, hips rocking again. “Want us. Want you to be mine, want to be yours.”

“Brendon,” you gasp, tightening your legs around him. “Please. Please.”

“What do you need, darlin?”

“Make me come,” you beg, hands tangled with his as he holds them over your head. “Make me come. I’m yours, all yours. Make me come.”

“Mine. Darlin, if you don’t come on my cock, I’m going to spank you.”

“Oh shit,” you whimper. “Bren, I—I love—getting—”

He grins. “You love getting spanked?” You nod, and he thrusts into you harder. “I knew it. I knew I had a wild girl on my hands.”

“On your cock,” you correct with a breathless laugh, and Brendon laughs too before grabbing the showerhead and aiming it against your clit. “Oh god, yes—fuck—Brendon, hold it right there—god, yes! Just thinking about you spanking me—and it’s right on my clit, baby, yes oh god—Brendon, please, please—oh!” You fall apart, crying his name, and he kisses you hard, hips snapping forward as he fucks you through your climax.

“Honey, I’m fucking close,” he groans. “If you want me to pull out, I will, but you gotta tell me—Y/n, I’m gonna—tell me now!”

“Oh god, in me,” you pant, your legs tightening around his waist. “In me, I want you to come in me, fucking give me everything.”

“Fuck,” Brendon grunts, burying his face in your neck. You can feel him pulsing in you, can feel the warmth spreading, and you close your eyes. You desperately want to remember this moment forever. When his breathing evens out against your skin, you carefully untangle your legs from his body.

“Fuck, B, that was so damn good.”

“Yes,” Brendon groans, kissing you. “Yes, it was.” He reaches to the side and turns off the water before opening the curtain and snatching a towel to wrap around you. “Here, darlin.” He kisses your forehead, and you melt, hugging him tightly. “Sweet girl,” he murmurs, holding you to him. “Y/n—can I take you to bed? Want you in my bed.”

“Yes,” you whisper, and he twists your hair into a rope around his hand, wringing it out gently. “Please.”

-||-

“You’re unreal,” he moans, sucking on one of your nipples as you writhe under him. “You’re incredible, darlin.”

“You’re not half-bad yourself,” you say with a short laugh. “B, I’m so sorry I got scared and didn’t let us talk about that night. About us.” You reach over to stroke his cock. “Hard again,” you marvel and he grins, switching breasts.

“Easy when my bed partner looks like this,” he murmurs against your skin. “Darlin, no need to apologize. We’re here now; we’ve talked. God, I’m just glad we finally got our shit together.”

You whimper in agreement, and he sucks harder, one hand moving down between your legs. “Love those sounds you make for me.” He sighs when his fingers trace through your heat. “Wet again,” he says in a tone that matches yours. You smile and tug at his hair.

“Easy when my bed partner looks like this,” you tease, gasping when his fingers slide into you. “Oh, Brendon, baby, yes.”

“Or it could just be that my girl let me come in her, and that’s why her hot cunt is so slick,” Brendon murmurs, grinning when you moan. “Have I mentioned how much I love when you say yes?” He’s shifting to hover over you. “Can I have you?”

“Yes,” you sigh happily as he pulls his fingers out and thrusts into you gently. “Yes.”

“I’m gonna be slow and gentle with you this time,” Brendon tells you, kissing your cheek. “Loved having you in the shower like that, but I want you every way. You deserve to be loved slowly and deeply, and I’m gonna be the one to do it.”

“Yes,” you repeat. “Brendon, yes.”

“God, darlin, don’t know which I love more, my name on your lips or you telling me yes.”

“I could, oh fuck, say another name,” you tease, and his eyes narrow playfully. “I think we have your answer then.”

“Damn right. I’m yours, and I’m committed; I want you to be committed too. I want you to be mine. I want to be the only one making you feel like this. I want to be the only one getting to see you come undone, getting to feel you take my cum. I want to be the only one fucking you, making love to you, getting you coming like this. Yes?”

“Yes,” you agree breathlessly. “Yes. Have wanted you, have needed you for so long. I only need you, and I only want you. You’re mine, Bren, and I’m only yours.”

“Good,” Brendon murmurs, leaning down to brush his lips over yours. “We’ll talk more later, but Y/n, I’m entirely yours. You know that means I love you, right?” You smile radiantly and nod. “And you love me, don’t you?” Brendon’s voice is soft, hopeful.

“Yes.”

#brendon urie #brendon urie smut #brendon urie imagine #brendon urie fanfiction #brendon x reader #he could fuck me any way he wanted #my work #fanfic #imagine #panic! at the disco

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