Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Wrong Time, Wrong Place
Definition of Fun. Inverted.
Brendon and Ryan have two very different definitions of fun, but Brendon doesn't seem to care. // SMUT. SMUT. SMUT.
?Blocked
A/N: I put the warning of Rape, but it's not rape. It's sexual violence. That's why I also put the violence warning. Just saying. Anyway, enjoy!
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Chapter 3
I wasn’t entirely sure what to make of everything. He had this dangerously sexy vibe about him, but part of me didn’t want it. Part of me was yelling that this was bad. I’d get hurt. Obviously. And as he dragged his teeth down the side of my neck, I couldn’t stop the moan that escaped my lips. I was seriously fucked up, wasn’t I? Really.
A gasp came from my mouth as I felt a sharp piercing in my neck. I grabbed onto the sheets as hard as I could. Fuck! What was he doing? I felt something trickling down my neck and he pushed himself closer into me. I started to squirm and tried to push him off, but he wouldn’t budge. After a few seconds, I relaxed and moaned into it, arching my back into him. It didn’t hurt anymore. In fact, it was quite the opposite. It was almost… orgasmic.
He then pulled away and moved over to kiss me on the lips. I could taste the blood in his mouth. My blood. I kissed him back easily. Any thought in my mind that was wondering what was wrong with me had completely dissipated. With his lips just softly hovering over mine, he whispered huskily, “You taste good,” sending chills down my spine.
And now I just wanted him to touch me. I wanted to feel his fingertips caress the skin on my body. I wanted him to make me tingle all over. I got my wish, however, as he moved his hands under my shirt. He pulled it off and threw it to the side. While still straddling me, he reached over to the bedside drawer and pulled out two pairs of handcuffs, “Now, if you behave, you won’t get hurt… much,” he smirked before grabbing one hand and cuffing it to the bedpost, then doing it to the other.
He leaned down and licked up my jaw. Crap. I knew he was putting me in restraints, but it didn’t hit me until now. I wouldn’t be able to move. He’d be touching me and I couldn’t touch him back. That scared me. I shivered and he grinned with his lips against my neck, “You scared?” he looked up at my face. I bit my lip and slowly nodded. He smirked and bit down on my collar bone. I gasped in pain, but he grinned. He moved his hands down my torso before he pulled off my sweats.
Then he sat up between my legs and just stared down at my leather briefs. His fingers traced the lining of it, “I love that you’re still wearing them,” he leaned down and nipped just below my navel. He moved from between my legs as he pulled them off, “Mmm…” he moaned softly as he kissed up my torso. He got off the bed and I felt naked. Well, I was naked. But I wouldn’t feel so much like that if he had his clothes off too! He grabbed two pieces of fabric and tied each ankle to the bedpost.
I wouldn’t even be able to move my legs either? My legs were stuck wide apart. He was going to torture me. But for some bizarre reason, that idea turned me on. I was getting hard. I squirmed and he smirked, “You’re an easy subject,” he climbed back on top of me and kissed me on the lips, “I didn’t even have to do anything and you’re turned on. That’s sexy. But you better not climax before I get to do anything to you.”
I gulped and watched as he pulled a whip out of a chest at the edge of the bed. He slapped it against his hand with a grin, “Now, what’s your mercy word?” he smirked, “Oh, I forgot something,” he set the whip down and went to the bedside drawer. He grabbed another strip of fabric and wrapped it around my mouth, gagging me. But if I had this in my mouth, I couldn’t say a mercy word. He smirked, “I guess mercy word isn’t needed,” he took the whip and hit me with it.
I gasped and arched my back. He started hitting me harder with it, over and over again. I kept gasping and attempting to move, but I could. I looked down and saw blood starting to purge out of the wounds. And then he hit me again. I screamed against the gag and he stopped. He looked at me, “Oops. Did I go too far?” he asked innocently. I took a deep breath and just glared at him. He set the whip down and climbed on top of me. He licked the blood and looked at me, “I’m sorry,” he pouted.
He confused the living shit out of me. First, he was this guy who wanted to beat the shit out of me. And now that he’s hit me too much and made me bleed, he’s apologizing? Second, I couldn’t tell if he was a vampire or just likes blood. Either way, I was pretty damn scared. Who the fuck likes blood? Besides, vampires don’t exist. So he was probably just majorly fucked up. Awesome. That’s just what I needed to complete my life.
He then climbed off of me and went scrambling around in a chest. MORE pain? Well, crap. I didn’t want more pain. But he came out with a MP3 player (not an iPod) and another piece of fabric. He tied the fabric around my eyes. I gasped and kept shaking my head and he grunted, “Stop fucking moving,” so I unwillingly did as I was told. So I was being bound, gagged, made to not see anything, and… He put earphones over my ears. Now I couldn’t even hear? What the hell was he doing?
Then he climbed on top of me and traced every one of the wounds with his fingers and, for some reason, the intensity of that just turned me on. I was so messed up. Something that was supposed to be extremely painful was turning me on. And I thought he was messed up? Fuck. He then got off me and I didn’t know what he was doing or when he’d come back. This whole complete lack of control was driving me insane. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything.
I gasped when he came back, but I could feel it. It was skin-on-skin. He was naked. And all I could hear, meanwhile, was… Wow. This guy was so fucking weird. I thought he was messed up before, but this just made him plain weird. It was Fall Out Boy. Fall Out Boy. Who was this guy? He liked Marilyn Manson, Nine Inch Nails, Nirvana… and Fall Out Boy. Seriously. What the fuck? ‘I don’t care what you think, as long as it’s about me.’
I could feel myself moan as he took my cock into his hand. He started to move his hand around. He wasn’t stroking it, as much as he was teasing it. That was mean. So mean. And then I screamed out in pain when something clamped onto one of my nipples. They may be useless, but they can still feel LOTS of pain! I started squirming and he pushed me down with the hand that, I guess, had clamped the thing on me. I’m sure he was yelling at me to stay still, but I couldn’t hear him. The music was really loud.
He then started to actually stroke my cock and I was torn between pain and pleasure. I didn’t even know how to feel. Part of me was moaning because it felt good, but moaning at the same time because it hurt so fucking much. And then another clamped onto my other nipple and the stroking started to go faster. I knew what he was doing. I knew that he was trying to increase the pleasure as each bit of pain increased. And then he shoved something inside me and I gasped in pain, but the stroking increased.
It was too big to be his fingers, so I knew he hadn’t even prepped me. But at least he put lube on. As soon as I moaned because he hit my prostate, he stopped stroking me and the pain from my nipples came searing back and I groaned. I knew he’d be smirking right now. He was enjoying this, I was sure. This was so not fun. Then he started to thrust in and out and I kind of forgot that there was pain anywhere. I moaned and arched my back. He pushed me back down and pulled his hips up to meet with his, I guessed.
He kept going and I felt my toes curl as I got closer. I felt him get closer. He then started to trace a word on the wounds on my torso. I couldn’t make it out at first. First of all, because I was pretty sure I’d orgasm before I could ever figure it out. Second, because I was in pain and pleasure at the same time. This was the most fucked up feeling ever. As he was getting closer, he placed his hand on my cock and started to stroke again, moving in time with his thrusts. His free hand was still tracing the word on my wounds.
It was break! The word was break! And then he orgasmed and pushed his hand down on my body as he did it. I orgasmed with him. I moaned really loudly. I hadn’t done it intentionally, but I could hear myself. Yeah, I knew I was loud if I could hear myself. And then he pulled out and climbed back on top of me. He was sitting on my chest as he pulled the earphones off. He then removed the blindfold followed by the gag.
He then traced his fingers down my jaw as he removed the clamps. He leaned down to kiss me on the lips, “Don’t even lie and say you didn’t enjoy that. Because even if you refuse to believe you did, your body was giving all the signs,” he grinned, “That’s why I didn’t stop. If you legitimately didn’t like it, I would have stopped,” he kissed me again and got off. He pulled on his clothes and came over. He took each bind off slowly. As each one came off, I looked at where they’d been holding. Bright red.
When both hands were let loose, I rubbed my wrists, followed by my ankles. I sat up on the bed and looked at him. He tossed me my clothes and headed toward the door, “I expect you to be gone when I get back… but I’ll see you tomorrow night. And you better not get rid of the marks I put on you,” he smirked and walked out, closing the door behind him.
I took a deep breath and put on my clothes. I didn’t know why I was obliging, but something about what he’d said made me want to leave. I was scared by what he’d do if I stayed. I staggered out of the room and down the stairs. I made eye contact with Brendon’s father who nodded in approval, probably just happy that I wasn’t dead, I’m guessing. And then I walked out of the house.
I had no idea where I was. Great. But either way, I didn’t want to face Brendon’s wrath if I was still here, so I started walking. I had no idea where I was going, but I was hoping I was headed home.
The following morning, I got up, though in severe pain, and got ready for work at the theater. I stared at my naked body in the mirror. My torso was completely red and somehow I could see where he had traced the word on my wounds. Break. I turned away from it and went to shower. That was probably the most painful shower I’d ever had to endure. Water running down my wounds was so painful. I wish I didn’t have to feel it anymore.
I stepped out of the shower, got ready for work, and headed out. When I got there, I went straight to the concession stand to start my job. I wasn’t going to act like anything was wrong. If I did, people would ask, and lying wasn’t really my forte. I was wiping down one of the counters when a familiar hand was placed on mine followed by the voice, “I thought I told you not to hide the marks I gave you.”
I slowly looked up and he looked angry. Shit. I wasn’t expecting him to come here! I thought he meant at my go-go dancer gig! I wasn’t going to walk around shirtless here! At the look of fear on my face, he laughed, “Calm down. I’m kidding. I didn’t think you’d actually leave without saying good bye last night. That made me sad. So you get extra fun tonight,” he winked and left.
…What? Shit.
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A/N: I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it! I did a lot of research on the topic. Don't even get me started on how awkward that was to explain when someone saw the webpage for BDSM open on my computer. Anyway, I hope you loved it! :) It's meant to be fucked up. Just to let you know. It was going to be fucked up from the moment I said he was a go-go dancer at an INDUSTRIAL CLUB. Haha. Please rate and review! I'm sorry I didn't have this up yesterday! I was writing it two days ago. I just had school and stuff. But yeah. I HOPE YOU LOVED IT.
A/N 2: I'm not fucked up. I swear.
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Chapter 3
I wasn’t entirely sure what to make of everything. He had this dangerously sexy vibe about him, but part of me didn’t want it. Part of me was yelling that this was bad. I’d get hurt. Obviously. And as he dragged his teeth down the side of my neck, I couldn’t stop the moan that escaped my lips. I was seriously fucked up, wasn’t I? Really.
A gasp came from my mouth as I felt a sharp piercing in my neck. I grabbed onto the sheets as hard as I could. Fuck! What was he doing? I felt something trickling down my neck and he pushed himself closer into me. I started to squirm and tried to push him off, but he wouldn’t budge. After a few seconds, I relaxed and moaned into it, arching my back into him. It didn’t hurt anymore. In fact, it was quite the opposite. It was almost… orgasmic.
He then pulled away and moved over to kiss me on the lips. I could taste the blood in his mouth. My blood. I kissed him back easily. Any thought in my mind that was wondering what was wrong with me had completely dissipated. With his lips just softly hovering over mine, he whispered huskily, “You taste good,” sending chills down my spine.
And now I just wanted him to touch me. I wanted to feel his fingertips caress the skin on my body. I wanted him to make me tingle all over. I got my wish, however, as he moved his hands under my shirt. He pulled it off and threw it to the side. While still straddling me, he reached over to the bedside drawer and pulled out two pairs of handcuffs, “Now, if you behave, you won’t get hurt… much,” he smirked before grabbing one hand and cuffing it to the bedpost, then doing it to the other.
He leaned down and licked up my jaw. Crap. I knew he was putting me in restraints, but it didn’t hit me until now. I wouldn’t be able to move. He’d be touching me and I couldn’t touch him back. That scared me. I shivered and he grinned with his lips against my neck, “You scared?” he looked up at my face. I bit my lip and slowly nodded. He smirked and bit down on my collar bone. I gasped in pain, but he grinned. He moved his hands down my torso before he pulled off my sweats.
Then he sat up between my legs and just stared down at my leather briefs. His fingers traced the lining of it, “I love that you’re still wearing them,” he leaned down and nipped just below my navel. He moved from between my legs as he pulled them off, “Mmm…” he moaned softly as he kissed up my torso. He got off the bed and I felt naked. Well, I was naked. But I wouldn’t feel so much like that if he had his clothes off too! He grabbed two pieces of fabric and tied each ankle to the bedpost.
I wouldn’t even be able to move my legs either? My legs were stuck wide apart. He was going to torture me. But for some bizarre reason, that idea turned me on. I was getting hard. I squirmed and he smirked, “You’re an easy subject,” he climbed back on top of me and kissed me on the lips, “I didn’t even have to do anything and you’re turned on. That’s sexy. But you better not climax before I get to do anything to you.”
I gulped and watched as he pulled a whip out of a chest at the edge of the bed. He slapped it against his hand with a grin, “Now, what’s your mercy word?” he smirked, “Oh, I forgot something,” he set the whip down and went to the bedside drawer. He grabbed another strip of fabric and wrapped it around my mouth, gagging me. But if I had this in my mouth, I couldn’t say a mercy word. He smirked, “I guess mercy word isn’t needed,” he took the whip and hit me with it.
I gasped and arched my back. He started hitting me harder with it, over and over again. I kept gasping and attempting to move, but I could. I looked down and saw blood starting to purge out of the wounds. And then he hit me again. I screamed against the gag and he stopped. He looked at me, “Oops. Did I go too far?” he asked innocently. I took a deep breath and just glared at him. He set the whip down and climbed on top of me. He licked the blood and looked at me, “I’m sorry,” he pouted.
He confused the living shit out of me. First, he was this guy who wanted to beat the shit out of me. And now that he’s hit me too much and made me bleed, he’s apologizing? Second, I couldn’t tell if he was a vampire or just likes blood. Either way, I was pretty damn scared. Who the fuck likes blood? Besides, vampires don’t exist. So he was probably just majorly fucked up. Awesome. That’s just what I needed to complete my life.
He then climbed off of me and went scrambling around in a chest. MORE pain? Well, crap. I didn’t want more pain. But he came out with a MP3 player (not an iPod) and another piece of fabric. He tied the fabric around my eyes. I gasped and kept shaking my head and he grunted, “Stop fucking moving,” so I unwillingly did as I was told. So I was being bound, gagged, made to not see anything, and… He put earphones over my ears. Now I couldn’t even hear? What the hell was he doing?
Then he climbed on top of me and traced every one of the wounds with his fingers and, for some reason, the intensity of that just turned me on. I was so messed up. Something that was supposed to be extremely painful was turning me on. And I thought he was messed up? Fuck. He then got off me and I didn’t know what he was doing or when he’d come back. This whole complete lack of control was driving me insane. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything.
I gasped when he came back, but I could feel it. It was skin-on-skin. He was naked. And all I could hear, meanwhile, was… Wow. This guy was so fucking weird. I thought he was messed up before, but this just made him plain weird. It was Fall Out Boy. Fall Out Boy. Who was this guy? He liked Marilyn Manson, Nine Inch Nails, Nirvana… and Fall Out Boy. Seriously. What the fuck? ‘I don’t care what you think, as long as it’s about me.’
I could feel myself moan as he took my cock into his hand. He started to move his hand around. He wasn’t stroking it, as much as he was teasing it. That was mean. So mean. And then I screamed out in pain when something clamped onto one of my nipples. They may be useless, but they can still feel LOTS of pain! I started squirming and he pushed me down with the hand that, I guess, had clamped the thing on me. I’m sure he was yelling at me to stay still, but I couldn’t hear him. The music was really loud.
He then started to actually stroke my cock and I was torn between pain and pleasure. I didn’t even know how to feel. Part of me was moaning because it felt good, but moaning at the same time because it hurt so fucking much. And then another clamped onto my other nipple and the stroking started to go faster. I knew what he was doing. I knew that he was trying to increase the pleasure as each bit of pain increased. And then he shoved something inside me and I gasped in pain, but the stroking increased.
It was too big to be his fingers, so I knew he hadn’t even prepped me. But at least he put lube on. As soon as I moaned because he hit my prostate, he stopped stroking me and the pain from my nipples came searing back and I groaned. I knew he’d be smirking right now. He was enjoying this, I was sure. This was so not fun. Then he started to thrust in and out and I kind of forgot that there was pain anywhere. I moaned and arched my back. He pushed me back down and pulled his hips up to meet with his, I guessed.
He kept going and I felt my toes curl as I got closer. I felt him get closer. He then started to trace a word on the wounds on my torso. I couldn’t make it out at first. First of all, because I was pretty sure I’d orgasm before I could ever figure it out. Second, because I was in pain and pleasure at the same time. This was the most fucked up feeling ever. As he was getting closer, he placed his hand on my cock and started to stroke again, moving in time with his thrusts. His free hand was still tracing the word on my wounds.
It was break! The word was break! And then he orgasmed and pushed his hand down on my body as he did it. I orgasmed with him. I moaned really loudly. I hadn’t done it intentionally, but I could hear myself. Yeah, I knew I was loud if I could hear myself. And then he pulled out and climbed back on top of me. He was sitting on my chest as he pulled the earphones off. He then removed the blindfold followed by the gag.
He then traced his fingers down my jaw as he removed the clamps. He leaned down to kiss me on the lips, “Don’t even lie and say you didn’t enjoy that. Because even if you refuse to believe you did, your body was giving all the signs,” he grinned, “That’s why I didn’t stop. If you legitimately didn’t like it, I would have stopped,” he kissed me again and got off. He pulled on his clothes and came over. He took each bind off slowly. As each one came off, I looked at where they’d been holding. Bright red.
When both hands were let loose, I rubbed my wrists, followed by my ankles. I sat up on the bed and looked at him. He tossed me my clothes and headed toward the door, “I expect you to be gone when I get back… but I’ll see you tomorrow night. And you better not get rid of the marks I put on you,” he smirked and walked out, closing the door behind him.
I took a deep breath and put on my clothes. I didn’t know why I was obliging, but something about what he’d said made me want to leave. I was scared by what he’d do if I stayed. I staggered out of the room and down the stairs. I made eye contact with Brendon’s father who nodded in approval, probably just happy that I wasn’t dead, I’m guessing. And then I walked out of the house.
I had no idea where I was. Great. But either way, I didn’t want to face Brendon’s wrath if I was still here, so I started walking. I had no idea where I was going, but I was hoping I was headed home.
The following morning, I got up, though in severe pain, and got ready for work at the theater. I stared at my naked body in the mirror. My torso was completely red and somehow I could see where he had traced the word on my wounds. Break. I turned away from it and went to shower. That was probably the most painful shower I’d ever had to endure. Water running down my wounds was so painful. I wish I didn’t have to feel it anymore.
I stepped out of the shower, got ready for work, and headed out. When I got there, I went straight to the concession stand to start my job. I wasn’t going to act like anything was wrong. If I did, people would ask, and lying wasn’t really my forte. I was wiping down one of the counters when a familiar hand was placed on mine followed by the voice, “I thought I told you not to hide the marks I gave you.”
I slowly looked up and he looked angry. Shit. I wasn’t expecting him to come here! I thought he meant at my go-go dancer gig! I wasn’t going to walk around shirtless here! At the look of fear on my face, he laughed, “Calm down. I’m kidding. I didn’t think you’d actually leave without saying good bye last night. That made me sad. So you get extra fun tonight,” he winked and left.
…What? Shit.
---
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it! I did a lot of research on the topic. Don't even get me started on how awkward that was to explain when someone saw the webpage for BDSM open on my computer. Anyway, I hope you loved it! :) It's meant to be fucked up. Just to let you know. It was going to be fucked up from the moment I said he was a go-go dancer at an INDUSTRIAL CLUB. Haha. Please rate and review! I'm sorry I didn't have this up yesterday! I was writing it two days ago. I just had school and stuff. But yeah. I HOPE YOU LOVED IT.
A/N 2: I'm not fucked up. I swear.
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