Gerard got a buzz from shows, every time he came off stage, dripping with sweat, he would be wearing a grin that stretched all across his face. He'd be in a good mood with everyone, and love everyone to pieces. Especially his little brother. He'd reminisce about all the childhood memories and cuddle up to Mikey. Now, sometimes, Mikey thought this was a little...weird. But only because sometimes, one of these post-show cuddles was after when well, I don't know, Gerard licked Mikey's chest onstage? Pretended to jerk him off? Felt him up? Yeah, sure, it was all for the crowds and Mikey got that. But that failed to explain why everytime Gerard approached him onstage Mikey's heart would give a little flutter. If it was anyone else except his adorable, geeky, arty brother, he would think it was because he liked them. But this couldn't be- because Gerard was, well. Gerard. And even though that would play right in with the fangirls dreams-it would just be weird. Wouldn't it?
“And Mikes, Mikes, there was that time! When I shaved your barbie dolls? And you cried, and ran to mom?”
“...Thanks for that, Gee,” Mikey uttered, a blush rising as Frank and Ray started chuckling.
“How old were you Mikey, 10?” Frank grinned
“13.” Gerard replied, and started laughing, almost hysterically. He let his head drop down and sit in Mikey's lap.
“Sorry Mikes,” he laughed, and started absent-mindedly playing with the button to Mikey's jeans. Again, Mikey felt that flutter-and a warm heat pooling in his lower stomach. As Gerard shifted to get his head more comfortable, Mikey struggled to keep his thoughts on other things. In his head there was this little voice shouting:
“BROTHER BROTHER GERARD BROTHER BROTHER”
So Mikey managed to keep his, ahem, distraction under control. But then Gerard stopped completely, and sat up straight, with a mischievous grin on his face.
“Guys.... LET'S PLAY TRUTH OR DARE!!! Or SPIN THE BOTTLE!! pleeeeeeeeeeaseeeeeeeeeee?”
You couldn't even deny anything to Gerard when he was in this mood.
“Spin the bottle, or we'll all just pick truths, and come up with shit dares,” Frank smirked, and sat down, extending his legs to make himself comfortable.
“Ray! Are you in?”
“Er.....why not? Sure,” Ray said as he joined the circle (or more of a square, but whatever.) It was naturally Gerard's turn first.
“This one's just a minor kiss on the lips, then it will start going up, the furthest I'm gonna go is a blowjob. How 'bout you guys?”
Ray murmured a “handjob”, Frank said “I'm good for receiving, but giving's a no-no, I'm not having one of your cocks anywhere near my mouth!” And Mikey just sat there in shock. He thought spin the bottle was just kissing.
“You good with blowjobs Mikes?” Gerard asked, swirling round to grin at Mikey, albeit a creepy grin.
“Erm...erm, s-sure-”
“Excellent! Now, let's play!” Gerard spun the bottle and it swivelled to turn to Frank. “C'mere baby,” Gerard smirked, relaxing. Frank pressed a chaste kiss to Gerard's lips, and then retreated. With a quick utterance of “My turn yeah?” he span, and this time it landed on Ray. Frank laughed lightly, took a swig of his drink, then leaned in for a 30 second kiss with Ray. Ray emerged, slightly pink but hiding it well. He coughed, and then asked what was next.
“Handjobs, my good man. And it's your turn! Lucky you...”
Ray swallowed, and span the bottle. It landed again on Frank. Mikey and Gerard gave a few cat-calls, and Ray blushed even more. You see, Gerard's way of playing spin the bottle meant whoever spins it gets the, well, let's call it -the prize. So Frank giggled softly, and eased Ray's jeans down, causing Ray to flush almost a scarlet colour, and another burst of “wit-woo's” from the Way brothers. Frank took Ray's member into his hand and started a slow rhythm, just enough to finish getting Ray aroused-as Frank was surprised Ray was already half-hard. Then when Ray was fully hard and flushed a deep red, Frank began to quicken his pace, surprised to see he himself was getting aroused, watching Ray's face contort as he began to get closer and closer to an orgasm, his hips shifting upwards as his breath began to quicken. Then it was all over. One almost inaudible gasp of “Frank” and Ray was gone. Gerard broke out into giggles, seemingly unable to help himself. Mikey soon joined, in, and Frank, but Ray remained silent, looking more embarrassed than ever. Frank was the first to break the laughter with words. “I think me and Ray have had enough action. One of you guys spin the bottle!”
Gerard stepped forward, then handed the bottle to Mikey.
“You so far haven't had the pleasure, dearest little brother,” he said with a slight leer. Mikey inhaled deeply and took the bottle. He was half-hoping it would land on Gerard, but half-hoping not. He span. It swivelled and swivelled, and Mikey felt a compelling urge to look away, but he didn't, watching the rotation of the bottle until in landed on it's mark. Smack bang in the centre of his brother's body, so it could not be mistaken for anyone else. Frank spoke up.
“Oh, man, 'cause he's your brother, we won't expect you to do anything you don't want to,” and Ray murmured a few words in assent. Gerard however, edged closer to his younger brother, a hungry look in his eyes and he looked him up and down. He drank in everything about him; from his blonde and brown hair to his skinny little waist-and below that. He looked up to Mikey's face, and in it was clear resemblances of himself. “You okay lil' bro?” and in those 4 words, it wasn't just an ordinary question between brothers. This had a much darker and sinful route. Mikey looked into his brothers eyes, hesitated, then nodded silently, imploring Gerard to continue. Gerard hesitated himself, but then, as if he felt he had to, pressed a soft, sweet kiss to his brothers lips. Mikey opened his mouth, letting his older brother in, and Gerard took the chance to explore his brothers mouth, sucking his tongue and tracing patterns around it. Mikey gasped into Gerard's mouth, and Gerard withdrew, taking his tongue and running it down his younger brother's jaw, down his collarbone and then sucking lightly on a hollowed part of Mikey's neck, where a little sweat was already pooling. Mikey groaned, and Gerard reminded himself to keep a note of that for...next time? But anyway, Gerard ran his hands over Mikey's chest, reaching his nipples and fondling them through his shirt. Then he took Mikey's shirt clear off, and licked his nipples, causing them to harden under his tongue and Mikey to groan again, bucking his hips ever so slightly off the floor. Then Gerard, wicked grin and all, started to slowly undo his brother's belt, 'accidentally' brushing his brothers package through his jeans. Mikey gasped, and looked Gerard in the eyes accusingly.
“Fucking tease.” he said, whilst Gerard simply smirked, and dragged Mikey's jeans completely off his body. He looked approvingly at Mikey's member. “See it runs in the family!” he smirked, and then licked Mikey through his boxers. Mikey bucked his hips, and looked a little pissed off now. “Gerard, fucking do it already.”
Gerard smirked again. “Tell me I'm the greatest”
“You know you're such a role model for older siblings everywhere? All older brothers should be like you, you're the best. Now fucking put my dick in your mouth, cocksucker!”
“Ooo, dominant Mikey...I like it.”
“Fucking get on with it.”
“One sec lil bro..”
Gerard got something out of his pocket but hid it. Then he grinned a little to himself, then slowly lowered his head onto his brothers cock. He licked the head of it, then slowly twirled his tongue around the tip. Mikey gave off several groans, and Gerard suddenly pulled off, then secured a small plastic ring around the base. Mikey didn't notice, but he did notice when Gerard handcuffed him to the coffee table.
“What the fuck Gerard? Is it not kinky enough for you to suck your little brothers cock? You have to-oh fucking no. No way. Take that off me now.” Mikey's gaze had drifted to his own lap and he saw the cock ring.
“If you want me to take it off after, you'd better start being nice now, little bro.” Gerard smiled sweetly.
Mikey swallowed and had a look of defeat. “Fine, I'm..sorry. I'll be a very good boy.”
“And what do you call me?”
“Erm, Gerard?”
“No. Call me sir or brother, if you will,”
“Yes, brother.”
“Good.” And with that, Gerard engulfed Mikey's cock within his mouth, sucking lightly, whilst swirling his tongue around it, making Mikey's hips buck.
“Please, big brother, more,” Mikey gasped out like a perfect little whore. So Gerard did what he said. He accommodated as much of Mikey's cock as he could, and sucked like he had never before. Mikey started showing the signs of being close to an orgasm, but Gerard knew that was the best time. He wanted to see his little brother beg for release, in tears preferably. And he knew he would get his wish, as his brother started bucking his hips up even more, and he actually moaned. “F-fuck-” Mikey stuttered, in a low guttural manner, and looked at Gerard with lust and want. “P-please Gee,”
Gerard drew back for a second. “Please what?” Mikey swallowed again, choking back a whimper.
“Please big b-brother. S-sir?” Mikey started gasping towards the end, as Gerard was sucking again, and Mikey's brain was an incomprehensible mess of “Fuckfuckfuck-Gerard-fuckfuckneedtocumfu
Gerard carried on sucking, showing no signs at all of relenting. He was determined to make his little brother beg for orgasm. So he carried on, for at least another 5 minutes, until he could even hear what sounded like moans from Ray's and Frank's corner of the room, until it was painful for Mikey to not be able to orgasm. Tears threatened to emerge as they welled up. “G-gerard, fucking, please, please big brother let me cum let me cum,” he gasped, and Gerard carrying on sucking relentlessly. A tear rolled down Mikey's cheek. It felt so good but yet hurt, he needed release, but it felt so good, and he was crying as his brother carried on sucking his cock like there was no tomorrow. Then Gerard pulled off. “Right,” and his brothers voice was so low, so sexy that Mikey whimpered, “I'll do you a deal. You beg for it, and let me suck you through it, and I'll take it off.”
“Yes y-yes please, anything, I'll do anything you want I love you big brother, please let me cum, I'll be your slave for weeks, your whore, w-whatever you want. I'll-I'll do anything pleasepleaseplease” and Gerard smirked. He carried on sucking hard, but as he was doing it, undone the cock ring. Out of nowhere, Mikey felt his cock loosening and then he just exploded into Gerard's mouth, he couldn't see anything, white blinding light was obscuring his vision and he felt euphoric.
“That was the best thing ever,” he gasped. Gerard grinned.
“I thought that when you just fucking screamed my name as you came.” He winked, and looked over at Frank and Ray, who both had their hands down their pants.
“Where's the laptop?” Frank asked
“On the dining table, why?”
“I'm gonna read and write some Waycest!”
The break in the song came and I laughed and said to Max ''Max, I just wanna say... I now have an erection.'' Thing is, I said this jokingly but really? I'm glad I had a guitar to hide my boner. I blushed, kept my head down and carried on singing. None of the other bandmates knew I was singing these words about Max. Well, I think Chris may have had an idea. We are so different though...not being mean to Max, but I'm more...manly, he's more..feminine? Oh god. Imagine him in a skirt. Fuck. And high heels, and a blouse, and...tights. Fuck! I could actually feel myself getting more turned on by the minute, and I forced myself to things of horrible things. My grandmother in her bikini, a cockroach, a spider. Ew, spiders! I hate spiders.
Now my hormones were slightly under control, I decided to finish the song. We finished the set, and me and Max shared the squashed back seat in the car home. He was so close to me. His legs were squashed up to mine, his arm brushing against my own, and I could smell him. Wow, he smelled fucking good. I gulped and tried not to think about how much I wanted to see all of him, to smell all of him, to...taste all of him. Fuck. I swallowed again, and looked out of the window as the blush rose up in my cheeks.
"Hey, Josh, you coming to that party tonight?"
I looked up, right into his face. Man, that was a mistake. His face was so close to mine, and I couldn't actually think of anything else, just that he was there, and he was wanting me to come to the party with him.
"Josh?"
When he had no response again, he sighed, and shuffled even closer to me. He sighed again, then jumped up and licked the side of my face.
My eyes must have opened wide in shock, because he looked satisfied and sat a bit further away again.
"Now that I have your attention, will you come to the party tonight?
"Y-yes." I stuttered, cursing myself.
"Good!" He smiled, a smile that lit up the whole...car. Wow, that's not cheesy at all. I shook my head at myself and was wondering what the hell I should wear tonight.
*********
I swear, all my outfits were lying on the bed. I'd got dressed and undressed like around twenty times or something now. I told myself I was ridiculous, that I shouldn't be dressing up for Max, I see him every day, but I had the feeling that this night was going to be special.
I was still in my boxers, bent over trying to find something to wear, when no one other than Max bursts into my room. I look up, blushing. He shoots a cheeky grin at me.
"I like your boxers. And you should wear your black skinny jeans, your arse looks fit in them."
I cough as he winks and leaves the room. Did he mean it? Does he really think my arse is fit? Does he like me? Well, it still settled one thing. I pulled on the black skinnies, and chose a white V-necked top and slid that on too.
*********
I smoothed down my top and stepped into the party. It was at Matt's house, and it was throbbing with people. I heard my very own voice playing and shook my head, smiling. Of course Matt would be playing his own music, he's so fucking vain. I think I was a bit late, everyone already seemed drunk. I looked over where everyone was dancing. I went and got myself a drink and looked over again. There was Max! God, he looked sexy. He was wearing pinstriped jeans, with a navy blue polo-neck on. He was dancing, and fuck, even just watching him dance...he danced like a god. The dancefloor moved around him, and he didn't care who was in his way, he just danced. The way he danced was so...erotic..so sexy that I just couldn't take my eyes off him.
I didn't even notice when Chris took up a seat next to me. I didn't notice while he repeatedly shouted my name. He finally smacked me in the face.
"Ow! What was that for?" I said indignantly, rubbing the side of my face.
"I've been trying to get your attention for the last 3 minutes and 42 seconds, but you were too busy making sex eyes at our Max."
"Uh...um..well..."
"Josh, don't worry. I know. You've been staring at him the past two weeks, and you've been so weird around him."
"Oh crap. Does this mean it will be awkward? Will he be disgusted to be around me? What if-"
I felt some hands snake around my back. Suddenly Chris wasn't there any more.
"Hey," Max whispers, and I feel his hot breath against my neck. "I'm glad you wore those jeans..." and his hands drifted down,landing on the back of my jeans. My breath hitched. He put his lips on my throat and kissed it softly.
"Josh, how about we go back to the flat?" he whispers, and he looks at me, and I see his eyes are plainly displaying one emotion-lust. I nod, incapable of speech, and I hear Max mutter a few words to Matt, who nods and smiles knowingly, and waves us off.
How do all these people know?
I climbed in the back seat of the cab, and Max smiles at me flirtatiously. He puts his hand on my leg and winks, then removes it just as quickly when the taxi driver looks back sternly. He winks again, and I feel something inside of me build up inside me with anticipation. I can't wait til we get inside.
*******
As soon as we stumble through the door, Max pushes me up against the wall.
"You have no idea how long I've waited for this." He growls, and then he puts one hand in the lapels of my jeans and another he uses to lace in my hair and brings my lips to his, and then he literally assaults my mouth, he opens my lips with his tongue and he explores my mouth with his own tongue, running it all over, as if inspecting it, then he pulls out. I open my eyes, whimpering at the loss of contact, then he ran his tongue down my jaw, and sucks lightly on my neck, then bites down. I moan softly and he slides his hands up my top and pulls it up, then tosses it to the side. He runs his hands up and down my chest and again, explores with his hands every inch of my torso.
Suddenly, he grabbed me by my belt and led me to his bedroom. I've never been in here. I look around, then notice Max staring incredulously at me. Then I notice he's topless. Again, my breath becomes ragged as I stare at his body. It's so perfect. Without even knowing it, I was straddling him, running my hands up and down his chest with a look of awe on my face. I lean down, and kiss the corner of his mouth, leaving a trail of soft kisses down to the spot between the shoulder and the neck and I lightly suck, licking my tongue lightly on the hollow of his neck, and I suck harder, wanting to leave my mark-everyone will know that Josh Franceschi will have been here, and claimed this Max Helyer.
I suck for at least 4 minutes, all the while enjoying the sensation of having Max squirm and moan underneath me. I then lift my head up and admire the mark I left. Satisfied, I move down and kiss his waist, dipping my tongue just underneath the waistband of his pants. He moans even louder, and I briefly think how the tables have turned, and how I'd rather he be the dominant one really, until he suddenly flips me over so he's straddling me and I'm lying on the bed. He licks a strip down my chest and then reaches my jeans. He unbuttons it slowly and agonisingly, then peels the jeans off seductively. He strokes my leg and actually rubbed his face along my leg, eclicting an embarrassingly loud moan from me. He licks my thigh and brings his hands up to my boxers.
I shake my head and move his hands and he looks up at me, dissapointed and actually looks like he's going to cry. I laugh softly.
"My boxers aren't coming off 'til at least your pants are off."
He breaks out into a sheepish grin and blushes. "Er-"
I put my finger to his lips and, ignoring his blush, curiously unbutton his pants. I gasp and immediately felt so close to the edge I actually almost came. "FUCK."
He had on hot pink panties.
He blushes even more and starts stuttering.
"I-I-I didn't mean for you to-oh fuck-well..."
"Shut up." I command, and silence him with a kiss. He still tries to struggle, and I give him my best stern look I can muster.
"Do you really want me to tie you up?" I ask, then I see that that wasn't exactly the best threat, as Max's eyes light up with an evil glint.
He coughs. "Um...handcuffs um, in the top drawer..."
"So you're kinky huh?" I say, winking. Then I feel a strange stab of hot jealousy. "How many more people have you had in here?"
"No one." He says, blushing. "I-I'm a v-virgin."
I smile widely and feel too happy. I proceed to get the handcuffs out of his top drawer, then laugh 'cause they're pink and fluffy.
His blush deepens even more. I kiss his rosy cheeks softly and laugh quietly. I handcuff him to his bedposts. I then look again at his pink panties and feel a lump in my throat, and know I am now more turned on than I ever have been in my life.
"Fuck." I say under my breath, and I stroke the pink lace tentatively, before stroking just inside of it, and finally pulling them right off. I looked up at him so I could see his face while I do this.
I pick his cock up (and fuck, it is big), and tentatively stroke it. He gasps and shuts his eyes, and then I stroke it a bit more, then decide to be daring and lick the underside. He moans, and I take the whole of it in my mouth, and start moving my mouth up and down his (magnificent) cock, licking around it with my tongue all the while, tasting him, savouring him. I suck the end of it, then lightly sweep my tongue across the head, and he moans so loud-it is the greatest noise I have ever heard in my life. I moan just at the sheer noise of it. I carry on sucking him off until he cries
"Josh! I'm gonna- fuck!" And he comes, directly into my mouth. I lick up every last bit, which seems to make him actually turned on again. I still have some around my lips and when I go up to kiss him he licks it all up, and this makes me realise again how hard I still am. I look into his eyes and he gestures toward the handcuffs, which I take the hint, and undo them.
"Lie on your front." he whispers.
"What?" I ask nervously.
"Just do it.." he whispers again, ghosting his fingertips up my spine.
I comply, and lie on my front. He handcuffs me to his bed and laughs evilly.
"Now, I can do what ever I want to you babe." he chuckles, and then his erection brushes against his back. Wow, he got hard again ALREADY? Wow.
Anyway, he moved back a little, out of my line of vision, and then suddenly I felt two fingers being shoved up my ass, coated in some sticky substance.
"Fuck!" I exclaim, and then I feel Max's fingers moving inside of me, and it -fuck- feels so fucking good. He takes them out and I feel annoyed, why the hell is he-oh god. His fingers were replaced by something completely different. Fuck this is amazing. He started to move horribly slowly, as if nervous and I got so frustrated.
"Fuck Max! Faster! For fucks sake!"
Startled, Max actually stopped all together until I twisted round as best as I could.
"Please?"
He nodded, and then began to move faster, in and out.
"Fuck-fu-Max...Oh god-"
I couldn't think straight, this was way too much fucking pleasure.
He brushed against one spot and then he bit down on my neck and then it was all too much. I came, screaming his name and a second later, he came too.
"So....you could say our friendship was ruined.."
"Eh..we were never that close anyway." He winked and leaned down for another kiss.
Author:
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=88.8){kind=small}
beccaryanross Rating: PG-13 atm
Pairing: Ryden
POV: Ryan's again
Summary: Nothing can block out everything.
Disclaimer: Nah mate. Ryan and Brendon belong to each other, not me. Although I did get a panic! at the disco birthday cake....does that count?
Beta:
rawrmusique Author Notes: : Hmmm Sorry about the shortness! I know its appalling, I'm sorry. But please comment anyway! I will try and get it posted to SATD. Thank youuu <333
Chapter 1
Chapter 2/?
Ryan felt kind of uncomfortable with the boy’s curious eyes on him for at least a quarter of an hour train’s journey, and kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and fidgeting. This was very on the contrary to the other boy, who didn’t appear to move a muscle in his body all this time; he scarcely even blinked. Ryan found this unsettling, but what he found also unsettling was the intensity of his gaze; how the boy seemed to look straight through Ryan, seeing everything Ryan feared and wanted; but also apparently not seeing enough.
Ryan had never had this much attention from anybody, but even if he had, this careful scrutiny would have unnerved him nevertheless. Ryan tried to ignore it; he focused on some little girl’s conversation with her dad.
‘Daddy,’ she said in an annoyingly posh voice, ‘Daddy, when are we getting there?’
‘I don’t know, darling, soon,’ he replied, obviously tired of this question.
‘Daddy soon isn’t an answer. I want to see mummy!!’ at this she stomped her foot and acquired a moody expression.
‘Mummy isn’t going to be there sweetheart,’ he replied, with an almost heartbreaking expression on his face.
‘Why not daddy?’ she asked, looking up at her dad with a mixture of anger and confusion.
‘Mummy went to France, honey. She went all the way to Europe. ’ And his eyes glistened and Ryan couldn’t watch anymore. It reminded him too much of his own fathers situation, and what his father had resorted to in them times, and reminded Ryan of the bruises he had got. Ryan’s own eyes teared up, though he fought to keep them from showing, blinking furiously. The boy looked at him with an even more intensified expression on his face, but honestly Ryan couldn’t care less anymore. He was used to people looking at him concernedly. He got it a lot from various social workers and busybodies.
They never did anything about it though did they? They knew his father had been a drunk, and they knew the bruises Ryan had constantly were not a mark of various fights; Ryan wasn’t the aggressive type-far from it. He was the type of boy who’d rather sit down and take something, no matter how bad it might be; because if he did something back, who’d know if he’d be able to even help himself? He’d probably make things worse. He was definitely the type to just sit back and let someone abuse him; hit him; torture him; rape him. Ryan’s eyes teared up again, but this was worse. This was torture; pain like he’d never felt before. One of his father’s alcoholic friends, Simon, had come back with his father and came up to ‘check on Ryan’. Yeah, like hell he was. He had walked into Ryan’s bedroom with a careful smirk and locked the door behind him. The only words uttered were
“No one’s going to help you. There’s no point trying to run.”
And following that was the worst night of Ryan’s life. The experience would probably haunt him for the rest of his life. He shuddered violently thinking about it now, and shivered again and again violently as if having a fit. The boy was now not the only one staring. Ryan tried to calm himself down. He inhaled slowly, thinking of a red flower slowly opening, and as he exhaled he imagined the same thing, with a yellow flower, and he carefully followed this routine until he was breathing perfectly normally again. He opened his eyes somewhat cautiously and was relieved that it was only the boy staring at him once more. This was the routine he did whenever he was trying to block something else out; these were his ‘Think happy thoughts!’ techniques. They seemed to work, but they can’t block out everything. Nothing can block out everything.
‘End of the line: Nevada stop.’ The announcer echoed. Ryan sighed and got up, at the same time as the other boy. So he was going to the school? Ryan thought. Well, maybe I’ll get to talk to him finally.
- Music:The Black Parade <333
Author:
beccaryanross Rating: PG-13 atm
Pairing: 'Drarry'
POV: Draco's
Summary: He thinks he can strut around the place just because he has a stupid scar on his fucking forehead!
Disclaimer: Nope, all courtesy of dear J.K :D
Beta:
rawrmusique Author Notes: : 1st drarry ;O
Hope you like it!
Comments please!
:D :D :D
The Goblet of Fire
Chapter 1
Professor Dumbledore muttered as he read the paper. He looked in shock. He cleared his throat somewhat hesitantly and read the name off the scrap of paper.
“Harry Potter.”
A great murmur swept across the hall. Everyone was talking and muttering. How did he do it? How did he manage to not get a beard? What’s going to happen?
But one student did not join in these mutterings. He simply looked on in malice at the scrawny bespectacled teenager now moving his way quickly and awkwardly across the great hall; everything had turned silent as soon as he stood up. Harry Potter looked up for the first time when he reached Dumbledore, but looked down quickly again as soon as he reached the other teachers. He put on a good show, the boy watching him thought scathingly. He actually looked as if he didn’t use his celebrity status to flaunt his way to get more publicity. Stupid Potter. He probably smarmed his way into getting the bloody-
“What do you think Draco?” Goyle said wonderingly.
“What do I think about what?” Draco Malfoy snapped, coming out of his reverie.
“How do you think he-.”
“How do I think he what? Why would I care about stupid Potter anyway? He thinks he can strut around the place just because he has a stupid scar on his fucking forehead! You know what? I think I’ve lost my appetite. I’m going to bed.”
Draco stood up without another word and marched for the Slytherin dormitories. He was tired of everyone’s obsession with Potter. Potter this, Potter that. No one seemed to care about anyone else. Even the Slytherins, who were resigned to hate Harry Potter, still talked about him all the time. And Draco was sick of it. He hated pretty boy Cedric Diggory too, come to think of it, but that was nothing compared to his mounting dislike for Potter. It was rather ironic actually. When Draco had first met other children other than his relatives, Potter had been the first he’d wanted to befriend.
They were sat in Madam Malkins and Harry had sat down next to Draco. At this time, Draco didn’t know who Harry really was; so started talking to him. Draco hadn’t really ever socialised with other children his age before that he didn’t know all about them, so he didn’t really know where to begin. He had decided to go with Quidditch, surely a safe subject; everyone knows Quidditch. But this boy (whom had not given Draco a name) replied with blank answers, and seemed to be upset with Draco for some reason. Draco had tried to backtrack, and started talking about Hogwarts instead. He told him about how he’d like to be in Slytherin, but he had just received the same cold treatment again. Draco then looked around and saw the giant that his father had told him was a servant for Hogwarts outside. He tried to talk about this giant, but that made the boy more offended than ever. The boy defended the great oaf ‘Hagrid’ and was with him! Draco didn’t know what to say to that. But then the boy had finished the robe fitting quicker than him anyway; his mother made him buy lots. The boy had looked as if he couldn’t get out of there fast enough. “See you at school then,” Draco had called out, but the boy didn’t say anything, but hurried out of the shop without a glance back.
It was worse on the train. Potter had humiliated him. Knowing who he was, Draco had decided to go talk to him, see if he could try to befriend him once more. For once, he didn’t care what his father would say, because for some reason he really wanted to become Harry’s friend. And so he had found Harry’s carriage and tried to re-introduce himself. But the red head sharing Potter’s carriage had sniggered at Malfoy’s last name, causing him to look around and see that it was a Weasley.
He had snapped at Weasley, and looked at Harry, incredulous that no-one had told him how degrading it was to be socialising with Weasleys of all people. Draco tried to offer him help, to be able to recognise good wizarding families, but Harry had looked at him with the same cool stare and tone he’d had previously in Madam Malkins and declined. For weeks Draco had wondered what he’d done wrong and thought about why Potter didn’t want to be his friend; but then Potter seemed to mark him as his enemy, and it only seemed fitting to follow suit.
So since then, Draco and Harry had marked each other as the classic school boy rivals; and now Draco felt resentful at the fact he had ever tried to befriend Potter; Stupid, courageous, brave, loyal Harry Potter. But didn’t Potter know it. Potter knew everyone loved him and that he’s faced the dark lord. Potter knew that the press would be on him just tomorrow, hounding him about the new competition and of course Potter would pretend it was oh so inconvenient and he didn’t like it, but Potter loved the god damn attention. Potter loved the fact everyone thought he was modest and hated attention, but he lapped it all up. Draco felt a cold rush of fury wash over him. Everything Potter did was always right. Never to be questioned. All the teachers (Except one) loved him, and the only one that did hate him favoured Draco. Still, no one ever approved completely of what Draco does. He had to go through long rigmaroles to prove himself; but of course Potter proved himself as a baby, didn’t he, he got his stupid scar and wowed the wizarding world through no fault of his own. Yes, that was Potter’s life story. Getting the credit for magic other more skilled wizards have performed. Without the mudblood, Potter would probably be dead by now. And that was the way it should be, Draco thought menacingly.
- Location:Fathers :}
- Mood:
accomplished - Music:MCR - whole of the black parade tbh :')
Author: Beccaryanross
Rating: NC-17 later
Pairing: Ryden later
Disclaimer: No I dont :(
POV: 3rd, Ryan centric
Summary: Most of these kids would have pushy, loving parents who would pay extra ordinate sums of money for their children to go to this fancy boarding school.
Chapter 1/?
Ryan sighed and drummed his long spindly fingers on the kitchen surface. He had half an hour to kill before he had to set off, and that included allowing a lot of time for public transport. Yes, Ryan was having to rely on the bus and trains to get him to his boarding school on the other side of the state. To be quite honest, his dad was in no fit state to drive him around. Hell, Ryan wasn’t even sure his dad knew he was going anywhere. But one thing Ryan knew for certain was that his alcoholic, abusive father wouldn’t care, he might even be happy. His father hated him; he hated everything that reminded him of the world he had left behind.
25 minutes left. Ryan, exasperated, got up and paced the length of the kitchen and opened up the fridge to gaze inside for no apparent reason. Coming to his senses a few minutes later, he gave another sigh and stalked away from the fridge, muttering under his breath. He checked his hair in the mirror once again, and his eccentric eyeliner, then picked up his primitive luggage and headed out the front door, for once not caring that he wasn’t on schedule, which he normally took very seriously.
As Ryan strolled to the bus stop, he wondered fleetingly who else would be travelling this way. Probably few, if any, he concluded. Most of these kids would have pushy, loving parents who would pay extra ordinate sums of money for their children to go to this fancy boarding school. Ryan on the other hand took it from his own savings, scraped his way into this school, simply because he wanted to get away from his father, but also because it had a good writing and music system, the two things Ryan was interested in.
Although Ryan’s life might seem terrible, Ryan never felt self-pity. However, he sometimes felt self-loathing. This was really just because 1.He was the stereotypical emo teenager, 2. He wasn’t born with much self-esteem anyway and 3.It doesn’t do much for your ego when someone is constantly putting you down and leaving their own personal signature all over his body; the purplish marks on his stomach did nothing to make Ryan feel good.
Contrary to popular belief, Ryan did not have any anorexia problems though. Even if his hipbones did jut out from his skinny frame, he was born that way; he couldn’t help it. He disliked himself, but not to the extent he would actually do anything drastic about it. To be frank, he couldn’t be arsed. He liked his food. He didn’t understand how anyone could willingly starve themselves like that. That’s why he got annoyed when people accused him of it. He was the furthest to anorexic he could ever be.
Ryan lifted his tiny body onto the bus with ease, and dug into his pockets to find the correct fare. In a sad way, he remembered just a few days ago when he could get on for a kids fare. But no, he had turned sixteen just 6 days previous, August 30th was his sixteenth birthday. He thought back to his birthday. Man that had been a hell of a party, he thought bitterly. He’d been woken up by his father at 1 o clock in the morning, and his father was singing (albeit drunkenly) and for a second, Ryan’s spirits had lifted. The first time in years his father had remembered his birthday? The door had slammed open and Ryan had actually smiled, thinking his father was to come and wish him a happy birthday.
‘Oh, it’s y-you.’ His father had grimaced, and walked toward Ryan. ‘Why is it that every time I look at you, I r-remember that bitch that left me? “You have problems George”, “You need h-help George,”’ He mimicked Ryan’s mum in a stupid high pitched voice.
‘Well it’s her that needs help the f-fucking bitch!! And then she leaves me with you; the spitting image of h-her. And she was never a p-pretty sight as a woman, never mind as a. Fucking. Man.’ And he punctuated each word with a blow to Ryan’s face, which Ryan had tried to shield with his arms but failed as his arms were too skinny as weak.
‘Though you’re not exactly a man are you?’ he snorted, ‘All that eyeliner and that s-stupid haircut!’ And he sneered right up in Ryan’s face. ‘You’re such a little fag, you worthless p-piece of shit,’ and with a few more punches on Ryan’s lower stomach, he left the room, giggling hysterically and being generally unsteady as he left Ryan curled up in a ball in his bed, tears streaming down his face as he thought of his mother, and wondered why his father hated him so much.
That had not been the best of birthdays. In the least. But, anyway, Ryan sighed yet again and turned on his iPod (his Christmas present-the only one he received- from himself) and put on some old Beatles tracks and Queen. Nearly missing his stop as the bus lurched to a halt; Ryan blundered off and inwardly groaned. The crowds milling around were awful. He didn’t exactly relish the prospect of going on the tube, judging how busy it was just here. But, Ryan sighed again and stepped into the formidable looking crowd. He took care not to tread on anyone’s feet or knock into them; he knew only too well what some people would do to a ‘skinny emo fag’ that knocked into them accidentally. In fact, getting through the crowd was quite easy; people wavered at the sight of his extraordinary make-up and sidestepped quickly away from him, thus clearing the way for Ryan. Although Ryan didn’t particularly like this, he had to admit to himself it was all for the best, I mean he had to be at the train station soon, and with the town this busy he had better hurry up anyway.
Ryan hated crowds, though. They were pulsing, sweaty and quite frankly nauseating. Everyone was pushing to get through, not caring about anyone else, their needs were more important. And anyway, Ryan preferred to be alone. He thought of himself as a lone wolf, on his own but not helpless or anything, just independent and able to look after himself. Ryan never missed company from other people, as he had scarce had it in the past. Although, deep down, he knew he craved an accomplice, or friend of some sort, he never admitted it to himself. Seemingly, Ryan seemed to love living in denial as much as the next guy, if not more so.
Ryan had finally reached his destination, the tube station. He fumbled around in his pocket for the correct change, and not a penny more. He then proceeded to exchange the money for a ticket, and then made his way over to the platform at the right place; he checked it on his ticket. Luckily, the train arrived promptly, so Ryan had no time to do the regular self-searching he did whenever he was left alone and had time on his hands (which was often). Ryan stepped neatly onto the train and then sighed and groaned under his breath. There were no available seats. Ryan sighed yet again and got to the pole in the middle and leant against it, trying not to disturb or hurt anyone else.
Another boy then stepped onto the train, and promptly fell over at Ryan’s feet. A few surrounding people, excluding Ryan, started to giggle, but even Ryan had a small smile playing on his lips. The boy didn’t blush, but looked embarrassed all the same. He tried to get up, but failed, and fell again in a tangle of limbs again at Ryan’s feet. Ryan, seeing no other option, mercifully extended a hand to help him up.
‘Erm, thanks,’ the boy muttered, nodding at Ryan, taking his hand somewhat begrudgingly. And Ryan looked at the boy. He was a good looking boy; there was no doubt about that. He had long legs that weren’t quite skinny, but not even close to fat. He was…curvy…that was the right word. He donned skinny jeans on his legs, and they looked good on them legs. He had what looked like a black plain v-neck tee on, but he had put on over it a lavender hoodie. Yes, lavender. He had jet-black hair, with a slight side fringe and it was kind of spiked up at the back a bit. He wore on his feet some faded converse.
He looked effortlessly cool-but also rather gay. Even Ryan could tell. Thinking about that, why did he get called a fag so much? He wondered. He didn’t wear lavender or anything. Apparently the eyeliner was a give away though. But was he gay? Was he? He looked at the unknown boy again and noticed his eyes. He had deep brown chocolaty eyes, and had outlined them thinly in black and accessorised with yellow eyeshadow. Did he feel any sort of attraction to him? He didn’t think so. No. Not at all. The boy noticed him staring and smiled a small smile, but also a curious and kind of agitated one. Ryan blushed, caught staring at him. He smiled back, quickly, and then looked away, whilst the boy was still looking at Ryan curiously, as if he somehow didn’t understand him. Ryan blushed deeper, and stared at the opposite side of the train for the rest of the journey.
A/N : Please tell me if you like it ! Updating rest of my fics soon, I handwrote this whilst on holiday in France....Please comment !! I love you ! <3
I've not posted in a while
*gasps*
So, I thought since as no ones online, I will bore all 2 of you that might possibly be reading this pointless entry (though when have my entries ever actually had a point ?
Anyway...
It's been an interesting few weeks.
christmas and all that.
And also..
I'm on holiday tomorrow!
To zeee alps !
Oh god they're going to hate me down there.
Butbutbut
I'm excited
I can't wait :D
Ugh my internet is going dodgy.
And the fact my dad is head of IT he should be able to fix it but Noooo hes too 'busy'.
We're all packed for gods sake!
No further preperation is needed!
But anyway
I don't know what I'm going to do.
A whole week and no slashatthedisco????
No computer ?
I will have to take the 'twilight diaries' and write things in there. Pathetic !
Lmao xD
And crap!
Geography and R.e assessment to do for first day back. And I've started neither of them . Ah well. Rebel child me ;]
And yeah so my charge is nearly run out, I go get the charger, my little brother needs it as his is completely run out?!?!
So fucking what ? ?
Anyway, I was in Bolton yesterday, and ugh there were some creepy guys, cause it was only half 5 but it was really dark, and anyway, some weird guys started following me and aimee D:
But anyway...HARRY POTTER FTW <3
I started re-reading the books so I could take some for the plane
But omgomg I forgot how amazing they were and I may sound a geek but wow.
And another geeky thing.
Put up all my posters today. The usual : P!atd, fob, mcr, paramore, twilight and....THE STIG !!!!
Top Gear rules seriously.
Save topgear!! They can't cancel it ! D:
But I have to go now...
Tea.
Byeeeee :D <333
And happy new year !! :D
Cyaaaa <33
Author:
beccaryanross Rating: Nc-17?
Pairing: Ryden
POV: Ryan's again
Summary: I loved the simplicity of it, how such a small gesture could bring so much comfort and assurance.
Disclaimer: Yup, I own them, and also all the cast of twilight. And I copyrighted J.K Rowling the other day. Harry Potter was a figment of my imagination.
Beta: gee:)
Author Notes: : I don't know, I think I just feel more comfortable in this story writing from Ryan's point of view. And thank you everyone for your comments <333 *loves and hugs*
Click hereee
Fall Out Boy
Are you a male or female:
I don't care
Describe yourself:
Growing up
How do you feel:
Pretty in punk
Describe where you currently live:
Homesick at space camp
If you could go anywhere, where would you go:
The carpal tunnel of love
Your favorite form of transportation:
Dance, dance
Your best friend is:
She's my winona
You and your best friends are:
The (after) life of the party
What's the weather like:
Calm before the storm.
Favorite time of day:
Lullabye
If your life was a TV show, what would it be called:
The patron saint of liars and fakes
What is life to you:
The pros and cons of breathing
Your last relationship:
A little less sixteen candles... a little more 'touch me'
Your fear:
7 minutes in heaven (atavan halen)
What is the best advice you have to give:
From now on, we are enemies
Thought for the Day:
Hum hallelujah
How I would like to die:
Dead on arrival
My soul's present condition:
I'm like a lawyer with the way I'm always trying to get you off (me and you)
My motto:
Nobody puts baby in a corner
Title: Suicide Silence
Author: Beccaryanross
Rating: NC-17, for depression, suicide and swearing.
Pairing(s): Ryden
Disclaimer: If I owned them, would I be writing STORIES about them fucking each other? Really? ;) Oh and the title belongs to a band {don’t like the band, just thought title was fitting} ;D
POV: Ryans again
Author Notes: I don't know, I think I just feel more comfortable in this story writing from Ryan's point of view. And thank you everyone for your comments <333 *loves and hugs*
Chapter 6/?
Chapter 1.
Chapter 2.
Chapter 3.
Chapter 4.
Chapter 5.
Brendon was coming home today. I couldn't wait. I had everything ready for him; I'd got all his stuff like his posters and stuff and put them up in my room. I hope he didn't think it was too much, coming and sleeping in my room straight away. Would he want to sleep on the couch? I bit my lip and looked around the room to the clock. I'd better get going. I grabbed my purple hoodie and laced up my green and orange converse and raced out of the door, still considering what I should do about Brendon.
I walked into the hospital and the familiar scent of hospital-ness greeted me. I navigated my way around to ward B. I walked in the room and looked around for Brendon. He was sat down on the bed this time, not lay down, and he looked up from the converse he was tying around his feet and grinned. 'You came,' he said.
'Obviously.' I grinned and sat down next to him.
He looked better. Still really pale, and washed out, and a bit unsteady. But better. I smiled softly at the sight of him getting annoyed with his laces. He looked at them evilly, as if they would tie themselves after his death glare. I giggled again when his eyes narrowed, and stepped forward.
‘Here,’ I said, still laughing, and I tied them up for him in a quick double bow.
‘Thanks,’ he smiled sheepishly, and I smiled back.
‘No problem.’ I grinned.
‘Oh, and Ryan?’
I glanced to my side, where he was just getting up and walking up out of the ward.
‘Sign me out will you?’
And he walked out, leaving me to tell everyone he had gone. Typical!
When I got home quarter of an hour later, Brendon had made himself at home. I walked in and he was lay, curled up in my chair, with a bowl of ramen watching Moulin Rouge.
‘Hey you could’ve waited for me!’ I stated indignantly as I walked through to the kitchen. He knew that was my favourite movie!
‘Sorry babe,’ He said, and winked at me, then turned his head back to the TV.
I rolled my eyes, and heated up a pizza for myself and Brendon if he wanted some. He probably did. ‘Greedy pig!’ I thought. But I didn’t mean it. I smirked, and went to sit down on the sofa. He, being Brendon, had dumped all his stuff on it. There was literally no where to sit. I sighed, and crossed my legs to sit on the floor.
‘Hey, Ry, come sit over here,’ He offered, and moved his legs up a bit so I could squeeze in.
I deliberated for a quarter of a second, and then squeezed in with Brendon. I lay my head on his chest. He was so warm. He always was. I so miss the times when we used to be like this. I loved the simplicity of it, how such a small gesture could bring so much comfort and assurance. I felt safe in Brendon’s arms. I wished he felt the same with me. But it was my fault for ruining that. I guess I’m going to have to properly prove myself to him. I don’t know how I’m going to do that. A big romantic gesture? Or would he prefer to just see the devotion and care I put into him whilst looking after him? Oh no, this is a test. Well, actually, this could be a good thing. I won second prize for caring for others in 1st grade. I will be the best carer Brendon could hope for. Ha-ha! And with ease. I sighed, content with my plan and grinned. I’ll start tomorrow.
the next morning
I got up at 5 o clock, with a quiet alarm. I looked down at Brendon, but he was snoring lightly, and the expression ‘Sleeping Beauty’ comes to mind. He is so cute! Especially when he’s asleep. I gently stroked the peachiness of his cheek, then let myself out from under the covers and wandered into the kitchen. I made myself a coffee, and then busied myself making a breakfast for Brendon. He was allowed to eat now, I’d made sure. I cooked a big breakfast, an English breakfast they call it, bacon and eggs and all that. Hey, I’d even got croissants. They’re French, right? Hey it’s still in Europe. A potato’s a potato right? But anyway, I would totally nail this carer thing. I’ll be the best; I’ll make sure of it. And I know this won’t win me back Brendon’s trust, I know. But, it’s the least I can do.
- Mood:
anxious
2. Press forward for each question.
3. Use the song title as the answer to the question.
1) What does next year have in store for you?
Another song (all over again)
'Justin Timberlake
2) What do you say when life gets hard?
Just Dance
'Lady Gaga
3) Song that reminds you of good times?
I slept with someone in fall out boy and all I got was this stupid song written about me
'Fall Out Boy
4) What do you think when you get up in the morning?
About A Girl
'The Academy Is...
5) Song that reminds you of your first kiss?
House of wolves
'My Chemical Romance
6) Your favourite saying?
Heaven Can Wait
'We The Kings
7) Favourite place?
Arizona
'Hey Monday
8) Most Missed Memory?
Whatsername
'Green Day
9) What song describes your best friend?
Girlfriend
'Nsync
Lmao..totally ;)
10) Where would you go on a first date?
Cleaning out my closet
'Eminem
11) Drug of choice?
I don't care
'Fall Out Boy
12) What song describes yourself?
Good girls go bad
'Cobra Starship
13) What is the thing you like doing most?
Saying sorry
'Hawthorne Heights
14) The song that best describes the president?
Mad as rabbits
'Panic! at the disco
15) Where will you be in 10 years?
Let's take a ride
'Justin Timberlake
16) What is your state of mind like at the moment?
New Perspective
'Panic! at the disco
17) How will you die?
The piano knows something I don't
'Panic! at the disco
o.O So what does the piano know ;O
