[fanfiction] music porn
365 Gay Sharks
Day 24, Word Count: 922
Theme: January; Month of New Discoveries
This post is part of the 365 Gay Sharks project. If you would like to learn more about this project, click here to read more about it. :D
Oh Nostalgia (I Don't Need You Anymore), Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz, heartbroken
Pete never stops calling.
It's not really like that's a big surprise, because the only thing that could make Pete stop calling would be his untimely demise, and Patrick doesn't wish that on Pete. He just wishes that Pete would maybe . . . Patrick doesn't know what he wishes. He wishes that things were simple, maybe. He wishes that Pete's voice didn't sound like sloppykissesdesperationwantwantwant to him.
Or maybe it's not Pete's voice that sounds like that. Maybe it's half remembered, forcefully forgotten Patrick, 'trick, come on come on. Maybe it's mine mine mine, like a broken and skipping record in Patrick's head. Maybe it's skimming fingers dipping into waistbands in the back of the van, messy kisses in front of a innumerable number of teenage girls. Maybe it's nostalgia, knocking on his door incessantly, an unforgiving knock knock knock knock.
Maybe that's just Pete.
Patrick doesn't know anymore. He writes a breakup song. He records six versions of his break-up song, and he wants to tear his hair out because he's beginning to understand why people write break-up songs. He's beginning to understand why Pete wrote breakup songs. He sighs a closes his eyes, seeing crown of thornsfucking eyelinerarching up. Seeing fuckingcome on come onlove you.
He calls Pete, knows he's probably awake, knows the soft 'trick? on the other end of the line. Patrick pauses. Says I miss you. Hears I miss you too. It's bittersweet, really, because it didn't have to be like this. If Patrick were more like Pete, maybe he'd make a stupid metaphor about Romeo and Juliet and forbidden love and whatever.
Patrick shouldn't need nostalgia anymore.
Listen to Your Woman, Jessie's Girl - Rick Springfield, Jessie/Narrator/Girl, solution, she knew
The thing about Jessie's girl is that she's pretty smart. She gets all A's, pays attention to what's going on around her, and notices a lot more than people probably give her credit for. She notices the way Jessie's best friend stares, notices the way that it's not specifically at her sometimes. Sometimes he's staring at Jessie too, and maybe he doesn't realize it, but she does. She notices, and she thinks she knows how to fix it, because Jessie stares back sometimes. It's always quick, but she's absolutely sure that they'll both sleep with her if she asks. The only problem is asking, really. There just doesn't seem to be a good time for it.
In the end, it slips out by accident.
Jessie's fingering her, hovering over her, and whispering into her ear. "Tell me what you want, babe."
"I want," she gasps, "I want to see you fuck him."
The fingers dipping into her stutter, but Jesse recovers quickly. He's whispering in her ear about how he'd fuck his friend, and then he's fucking her and she's crying out, clenching around him. They don't really talk about it after that, but she knows Jessie hasn't forgotten. She knows, and she's delighted when Jessie invites him over and flirts, a little shameless. She turns up her charm too, laying a hand on his thigh and leaning in close. He seems really confused, though, so she clears up his confusion by straddling him.
"Hey," she whispers, "Jessie and I were thinking, and we decided that we like you. We want to fuck you, okay?"
He seems confused, opening his mouth and closing it for moment before just framing her face with his hands and kissing her. It's kind of dirty and messy, subtly different from Jessie but not that different, and she rocks down onto his crotch a little before pulling away. He whines at that, reaching from her as she climbs off of him, and she catches Jessie's eye. They smile, each catching one of his hands and leading him to the bedroom. Jessie pushes him down onto the bed, kissing him, and he arches up into it. Their clothes get shed hastily, haphazardly thrown to the side, and she smiles, because this is exactly what she pictured.
Grabbing the lube and condoms and tossing them to Jessie, she crawls onto the bed too and nudges Jessie out of the way so she can straddle his friend. She's still wearing her skirt, but she'd shed her shirt and bra and underwear. Jessie's working his friend open, and she's leaning down to kiss him, to swallow every pretty noise he makes. Jessie touches her hip, and she shifts, pulling him to a sitting position while Jessie slots in behind him. He pushes into his friend, and she pulls away for a moment to kiss Jessie. She's fumbling for a condom, fingers finally curling around smooth foil, and the she's ripping it open and fitting it onto Jessie's friend. Sinking down, she grips at his shoulders and steadies herself, breathing breathing before nodding to Jesse.
Then they're moving, and it's awkward at first, but they fall into a rhythm easily. It's smoother then, smoother and good and it burns but oh oh she doesn't want anything else. Jessie's friend, nice boy that he is, manages the presence of mind to rub at her clit and then she's crying out (or maybe it's one of them) and then everything is narrowed down to roll of hips, fingers digging into her hips and sounds bouncing of the walls, loud enough to let everyone in the whole world know what they're doing.
She's pretty sure this is the best idea she's ever had.
This entry originally posted here. Original entry currently has
comments. :D
Day 24, Word Count: 922
Theme: January; Month of New Discoveries
This post is part of the 365 Gay Sharks project. If you would like to learn more about this project, click here to read more about it. :D
Oh Nostalgia (I Don't Need You Anymore), Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz, heartbroken
Pete never stops calling.
It's not really like that's a big surprise, because the only thing that could make Pete stop calling would be his untimely demise, and Patrick doesn't wish that on Pete. He just wishes that Pete would maybe . . . Patrick doesn't know what he wishes. He wishes that things were simple, maybe. He wishes that Pete's voice didn't sound like sloppykissesdesperationwantwantwant to him.
Or maybe it's not Pete's voice that sounds like that. Maybe it's half remembered, forcefully forgotten Patrick, 'trick, come on come on. Maybe it's mine mine mine, like a broken and skipping record in Patrick's head. Maybe it's skimming fingers dipping into waistbands in the back of the van, messy kisses in front of a innumerable number of teenage girls. Maybe it's nostalgia, knocking on his door incessantly, an unforgiving knock knock knock knock.
Maybe that's just Pete.
Patrick doesn't know anymore. He writes a breakup song. He records six versions of his break-up song, and he wants to tear his hair out because he's beginning to understand why people write break-up songs. He's beginning to understand why Pete wrote breakup songs. He sighs a closes his eyes, seeing crown of thornsfucking eyelinerarching up. Seeing fuckingcome on come onlove you.
He calls Pete, knows he's probably awake, knows the soft 'trick? on the other end of the line. Patrick pauses. Says I miss you. Hears I miss you too. It's bittersweet, really, because it didn't have to be like this. If Patrick were more like Pete, maybe he'd make a stupid metaphor about Romeo and Juliet and forbidden love and whatever.
Patrick shouldn't need nostalgia anymore.
Listen to Your Woman, Jessie's Girl - Rick Springfield, Jessie/Narrator/Girl, solution, she knew
The thing about Jessie's girl is that she's pretty smart. She gets all A's, pays attention to what's going on around her, and notices a lot more than people probably give her credit for. She notices the way Jessie's best friend stares, notices the way that it's not specifically at her sometimes. Sometimes he's staring at Jessie too, and maybe he doesn't realize it, but she does. She notices, and she thinks she knows how to fix it, because Jessie stares back sometimes. It's always quick, but she's absolutely sure that they'll both sleep with her if she asks. The only problem is asking, really. There just doesn't seem to be a good time for it.
In the end, it slips out by accident.
Jessie's fingering her, hovering over her, and whispering into her ear. "Tell me what you want, babe."
"I want," she gasps, "I want to see you fuck him."
The fingers dipping into her stutter, but Jesse recovers quickly. He's whispering in her ear about how he'd fuck his friend, and then he's fucking her and she's crying out, clenching around him. They don't really talk about it after that, but she knows Jessie hasn't forgotten. She knows, and she's delighted when Jessie invites him over and flirts, a little shameless. She turns up her charm too, laying a hand on his thigh and leaning in close. He seems really confused, though, so she clears up his confusion by straddling him.
"Hey," she whispers, "Jessie and I were thinking, and we decided that we like you. We want to fuck you, okay?"
He seems confused, opening his mouth and closing it for moment before just framing her face with his hands and kissing her. It's kind of dirty and messy, subtly different from Jessie but not that different, and she rocks down onto his crotch a little before pulling away. He whines at that, reaching from her as she climbs off of him, and she catches Jessie's eye. They smile, each catching one of his hands and leading him to the bedroom. Jessie pushes him down onto the bed, kissing him, and he arches up into it. Their clothes get shed hastily, haphazardly thrown to the side, and she smiles, because this is exactly what she pictured.
Grabbing the lube and condoms and tossing them to Jessie, she crawls onto the bed too and nudges Jessie out of the way so she can straddle his friend. She's still wearing her skirt, but she'd shed her shirt and bra and underwear. Jessie's working his friend open, and she's leaning down to kiss him, to swallow every pretty noise he makes. Jessie touches her hip, and she shifts, pulling him to a sitting position while Jessie slots in behind him. He pushes into his friend, and she pulls away for a moment to kiss Jessie. She's fumbling for a condom, fingers finally curling around smooth foil, and the she's ripping it open and fitting it onto Jessie's friend. Sinking down, she grips at his shoulders and steadies herself, breathing breathing before nodding to Jesse.
Then they're moving, and it's awkward at first, but they fall into a rhythm easily. It's smoother then, smoother and good and it burns but oh oh she doesn't want anything else. Jessie's friend, nice boy that he is, manages the presence of mind to rub at her clit and then she's crying out (or maybe it's one of them) and then everything is narrowed down to roll of hips, fingers digging into her hips and sounds bouncing of the walls, loud enough to let everyone in the whole world know what they're doing.
She's pretty sure this is the best idea she's ever had.
This entry originally posted here. Original entry currently has
comments. :D