2015-06-05 7:40:06 ¶ ●

asthehero replied to your post:trying out a new icon style eeeeeeeey /finger guns

> ohhhh you like them BIG…………

sᴛɪᴄᴋs ᴛᴏɴɢᴜᴇ ᴀᴛ

2015-06-07 7:56:18 ¶ ● ⬈

asthehero:

> asthehero-blog:

> > ( hypelios liked your post )

> “Yeah, so. I meant to send that to you. I fucking texted EVERYONE.”
> Groans.

well i mean i can hardly blame you, i’m well known to be very distracting
ooooops now where did my shirt go

2015-06-07 8:08:45 ¶ ● ⬀ ⬈

asthehero:

> “I hid your shirt. You’re never going to find it.
> It’s your own fault for taking it off.” Good luck, Jack.

that’s fine i’ll just take yours (ʀᴇᴀᴄʜᴇs ғᴏʀ)

2015-06-07 8:26:14 ¶ ● ⬀ ⬈

asthehero:

> SWATS HIS HANDS.
> “You’re not doing anything of the sort.
> You’re gonna’ sit back, and give me a show.”

(ᴘᴏᴜᴛs)
oh yeah? says who? do you even have tickets to this gun show?? (ғʟᴇxᴇs)

2015-06-07 9:07:16 ¶ ● ⬀ ⬈

asthehero:

> Pause. Slowwwwwwly grinning now.
> “I’m entitled to that show, you goddamn brat.
> Remind me who had you squirming earlier? And begging. I distinctly remember begging.”

He can feel the sweat starting to pool between his shoulder blades and if he’d still had his shirt on he would have tugged at the collar.
“You’re memory must be going old man, ‘cause I don’t remember any begging of any sort. Or squirming.” He’s lying, he totally remembers, and it’s times like these he’s glad you can’t see the blush under the mask.
“As a matter of fact I think I might have you checked into the medical bay or something. Do you feel feverish?” Nervous laughter.

2015-06-07 9:41:14 ¶ ● ⬀ ⬈

asthehero:

> “Are you telling me, that I was, ah. Imagining it?” A brief gesture of his hand, and Jack looks as though he’s about to lean forwards and crawl up the length of this goddamn brat’s body. Remind him, by any means, of every little noise he’d wrung from that pretty throat of his. He doesn’t.
> He’s got something better in mind. Something that begins with a savage grin that SPREADS.

> “Oh, I feel fine. You wanna’ make sure of it? C’mere. Test my temperature,” said, as he taps his temple and crooks that same finger at his younger self, coaxing him to come closer. “You want the shirt, yeah? I might give it to you, for a price. How’s about a kiss to start, gorgeous.”

He squints at his other apprehensively. He knows himself enough not to trust a word that comes out his own mouth, cross-dimensional or otherwise.
“Imagining it, maybe. You could of been uuh– hallucinating. You never know.” His own grin falters when other Jack starts looking at him like a skag would a haunch of fresh meat. And you wonder why he doesn’t ever believe you, you sly devil you.

It’s his first instinct to play hard to get, to tease, but a kiss couldn’t hurt, right? (It could, and a part of him is counting on that, but anyway)
“What, you can check for fevers with your tongue now? Science is truly amazing.” He slides over regardless, reaching for other Jack’s face and wiggling his fingers at him. You don’t really expect him to pass this up, now do you?

2015-06-07 10:39:59 ¶ ● ⬀ ⬈

asthehero:

> Jack’s smile twists into a tooth-baring grin. “Hallucinating, huh? You know, there isn’t anyone else here save for you and me. Keep on clutching at that pride. You know I’m MORE than happy to strip it from you in favor of making you feel reaaaaally good, Jack.” And. Right for the jugular.

> He can see it, in his counterpart’s eyes. That need to play the game, to hold back just long enough to maintain control, and it’s friggin’ intoxicating to watch the way Jack slowly gives in. Sometimes, the ensuing power struggle isn’t worth postponing a very pleasing reward. That’s something he’s come to learn, with time and experience. Jack fits his fingertips under his younger self’s chin, when he draws closer, lifting it up so he can take a good look at the length of his neck and the angle of his jaw. Youthful, sharp. Just asking to be marked up. The usual.

> “You could, with – uhm, microsensors,” he wiggles his eyebrows in the same moment that Jack wiggles his fingers, playing the chatty game right up until the moment he can press his mouth to Jack’s. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip, catching the faintest hint of blood just before he digs his fingers into the tender hinge of Jack’s jaw and forces his mouth open. Chasing the taste of blood with his tongue, he BITES, hard, at the corner of the other man’s mouth. ( Bleed, kid. )

He shivers, working his jaw into what looks more like a pout than his intended glare. (Just once, he’d like to win, but part of him likes it better when he doesn’t.) There’s already heat crawling up his spine and he’s angry with himself for being so weak for this. He doesn’t reply, he can’t with other Jack’s hands maneuvering him, eyes raking over him. Jack glowers at him and bites his own tongue, worrying the cut from the candy he’d enjoyed earlier.

The copper taste doesn’t take the edge off the sexual tension, but Jack snorts at the other’s little eyebrow dance anyway, and then he’s being kissed. It starts out gentle enough, it always does, and then it snaps into something vicious and Jack makes a noise in the back of his throat, sharing the taste and gripping the other’s shoulders least he get devoured in the process.

Jack yelps at the bite, muffled by the other Jack’s tongue, but he doesn’t pull away, (no-sir-ee, if you blood, old man, he’ll fucking give it to you). He bites back, teeth sliding over tongue until he’s not sure whose mouth is whose and his fingers slide over the other’s throat, not quite squeezing but not quite gentle either. He’s not about to go down without a fight.

2015-06-09 19:40:42 ¶ ● ⬀ ⬈

asthehero:

> ( If you wanna’ win, start by playing for keeps, kiddo. After all, Jack likes keeping YOU. )

> There is blood all over the kid’s mouth by the time he gets to kissing him proper; enough so, that Jack wonders if he’s gone and bitten his tongue in half, just to keep his temper in check. That’d have been disappointing as all hell. so he’s genuinely pleased to find that young Jack’s just re-opened the cut on his tongue. All those goddamn candies he eats, and not a thing about him’s any more sweet. Jack curls his tongue inside his counterpart’s mouth, a hand finding careless purchase in his hair. He knows it’ll piss him off ( it’d piss him off, and they’re practically cut from the same cloth ), but he twists his fingers into brunette locks and gives them a tug. He feels that hand around his neck, kid.

> Jack pulls back, long enough to suck on his teeth and produce one hell of an annoying ‘tsk-ing’ noise. He hasn’t gone and yanked on young Jack’s hair, but he might as well, the way he leans back to arm’s length and observes him for a moment. ( Oh, okay. He’s bleeding too now. Kid’s got a bite. )
> “I mean. It’s a good start, but, uh. Award-winning material, it’s not.”

He can feel the rush of blood between his teeth, deafening in his ears, and split between the two of them (one of them? he’d say two sides of the same coin if it didn’t sound cliche and corny as hell), painting mouths shiny and red. He grunts at the hand pulling his hair and squints open his eyes from where he’d squeezed them shut. (Oh, not the hair, now this is war.)

Jack digs his fingernails into the soft flesh of his other’s throat, jaw locking tight on another bite, but not soon enough, because other Jack is pulling back and he tries to follow his mouth but the hand in his hair keeps him still, keeps him held back. He manages to stay put and quiet (a rarity indeed) as Jack observes him (smug bastard), licking his lips around a grin, the blood making them sticky in the cool air. He doesn’t say anything in retort, just makes a triumphant little hmph at the back of his throat and digs his fingers in a little harder before surging forward, feeling aggressive and intent on reclaiming Jack’s mouth, hand in his hair be damned.

2015-06-13 1:57:00 ¶ ● ⬈

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mixedupmusicblog:

> Head is not my Home - MS MR

2015-06-22 5:22:49 ¶ ●

asthehero replied to your post:raise your hand if you’ve actually made out with…

> /raises hand.

looks into the camera like im in the office

2015-06-29 5:23:52 ¶ ●

asthehero replied to your post:or, better yet: a contest to see who can do that…

> /sticks tongue out at you…….

you better put that thing away

unless you plan on usin’ it

2015-06-29 5:57:18 ¶ ● ⬀ ⬈

asthehero:

> “You’re the one who issued the invitation. Consider this my RSVP.”
> AGGRESSIVE WINKING.

now it’s really a party

don’t be gentle with me

2015-06-30 5:53:09 ¶ ● ⬈

asthehero:

> I know exactly what you want. The question is whether you’re going to ask nicely for it.
> I’ll also accept begging pretty.

pretty please with a mutant cherry on top?? i dunno that sounded pretty bad to me, maybe you should help me practice

2015-06-30 6:28:50 ¶ ● ⬀ ⬈

asthehero:

> You’re still eating those things? [ PAUSE… ] Yeah, that was shit, you got to mean it, darlin’.
> Less ‘pretty please’ platitudes, more… On your knees, looking needy.

i-i, uuuh– would there be any point in playing hard to get right now or should i just. come up to your office. instead… .

2015-06-30 6:53:00 ¶ ● ⬀ ⬈

asthehero:

> Darlin’. Jack. [ tsk tsk ] I am never against a little playing hard to get, but. I’m not here all night.
> You can play all you want. Makes it twice as fun to wear you down and exhaust you.

> – but, why go through all that trouble before we get to have any fun?

don’t you darlin’ me. (ᴘᴏᴜᴛs) ffffffine. c’mere and fuckin’ spoil me already i’m frickin’ dying over here.