Kinky Ryden Smut Oneshots

Post-It Notes And Neon Rope

Written by xlatestxplaguex & mrs_hopeless21

 Ryan mentally groans when he wakes up, finding a post-it note stuck to his forehead. Fucking Brendon, he thinks. He pulls the lime green note off, trying to decipher the loopy handwriting of his best friend.

Ry,

We need stuff. Go shopping. List is on refrigerator.

Love, B

Maybe living with him wasn't such a great idea after all.

He gets up and puts some pajama pants on, not wanting to scar Brendon by walking in the kitchen naked. Guessing that Brendon ran off to do God knows what, he inwardly groans at the thought of going shopping.

Ryan hates shopping, but seeing how his roommate was the last one to run to the store and pick up some things that they needed, he figures it's only fair.

Ryan turns the coffee pot on, grabbing a muffin out of the cabinet before he goes back in his room to get dressed. When he's done getting ready, he strolls back into the kitchen, eats his muffin with his coffee, and snatches the list off the refrigerator without even looking to see what Brendon wrote down.

He hastily locks the door, making it all the way down to his car before realizing that he forgot his sunglasses.

"Fuck," he mutters, trying to decide if it's worth the trip back up the stairs.

He settles on going back to get them, since it is fucking bright outside, and of course, because he looks sexy in them. He could definitely pick up some ladies, if he was into that kind of thing.

He slides his shades on, checking himself in the mirror before heading toward the front door. He's not really paying attention to where he's going, not to mention that he can't see with the sunglasses on.

He trips over Brendon's shoes that were left in the middle of the room, cursing him for the fourth time today already. Sure, he's sexy, but clumsy too.

When he gets to the car, he throws his phone and the list in the passenger seat. Setting off for Super Wal-Mart, he grabs his iPod out of the center console and plugs it up to his radio.

Meriwether fills the speakers, and he taps along to the beat on the steering wheel as he makes a left turn, leaving the garage. On the way there, he sings along to most of the songs and drums his fingers on the wheel more.

Ten minutes later he's pulling into the parking lot. A stray cart is in the parking space he wants, so he gets out and pushes it away from his car. The last thing he wants is to come back out and see a huge dent in the side of his beautiful Mercedes.

He gets back in his car, pulling it the rest of the way into the parking spot. He shuts off the engine and takes off his sunglasses, pulling the visor mirror down so he can check his hair. Although there's hardly any wind today, he has to be sure because the air conditioner might have fucked it up.

After deciding that his hair is just perfect, like always, he winks at himself, puts his sunglasses back on, and flips the visor shut. He makes sure to grab his keys and cell phone, and God forbid that he forget Brendon's fucking shopping list.

He pushes the piece of paper into his pocket, but not before fussing with it a good thirty seconds to just get the fuck in there. He rolls his eyes, knowing that he's going to need to get it back out in a minute or two anyway.

He acts like a decent human being, smiling politely at the door greeter before making his way into the store. He grabs a basket, pushing his sunglasses up on top of his head before making his way into the food section of the store.

Pulling out the list again, he glances at the first two things on the list:

Bread.

Pickles.

Okay, easy enough. He holds onto the list and sets off in the direction of the bread. Arriving in the bread aisle, he starts checking for the freshest loaf. He finds one that he likes and places it in the buggy.

Moving over to the next aisle, he locates the pickles and grabs a jar of Best Maid, Brendon's favorite. After depositing the jar into the cart, he glimpses at the list again.

Those pizza roll things I like (you know the ones I'm talking about).

He opens the freezer door, grabbing the biggest bag of the pizza rolls. The boy can definitely eat, and Ryan doesn't know where he puts it all. He tosses them in the basket, continuing to push it down the aisle. He checks the list again, stopping dead in his tracks when he gets to the next item.

Condoms? What the fuck ever, he thinks. He is so not buying his condoms. He pulls out his Sidekick, pressing speed dial #1 and lets it ring.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Brendon, what the hell? Buy your own goddamn condoms, you fucking pri--"

"Haha, gotcha! I can't come to the phone right now. I'm probably doing something dirty and paying in quarters, but I'll call you back. Maybe. Leave me a message. Hi mom!"

"Goddamn you, Brendon. I swear to God, I always fall for that fucking message. I am not buying you condoms, asshole."

He ends the call, angrily shoving his phone back in his pocket.

Ten minutes later, he's still standing in the Family Planning section, trying to figure out which condoms Brendon would use. Trojan? Durex? Lubricated? Unlubricated? Ribbed? Fucking hell, he thinks, mentally strangling Brendon. He grabs a random box, throwing them into the basket before hurrying out of the condom aisle.

Glancing at the next thing on the list, he nearly starts cussing Brendon out without him actually being there to get the full force of it.

Lube?!

"I swear I'm going to kill that boy when I get home," he says to himself.

He curses Brendon the whole way back to the condom aisle, and swears up and down that he's going to shove his foot so far up his ass that--well, you get the picture.

Now in search of lube, he's faced with about the same amount of options, if not more than he was with the condoms. Unscented, strawberry, blueberry, or warming?...that is the question.

Deciding on strawberry because that's what he would get for himself--and no, he is not going there--he throws it in the bottom of the cart, visualizing that Brendon's head is where he's tossed it.

He sets off in search of the next item, which thank goodness is only whipped cream, but still has him wondering what the hell Brendon was on when he wrote out this damn list.

Ryan heads toward the dairy section, glad that there aren't eighteen-hundred different sizes, brands, and flavors of whipped cream. He's all huffy now, and a little flushed from spending too much time in the goddamn condom aisle, trying to decide what would suit his best friend's sexual needs.

He takes a deep breath, and tries not to think about smashing Brendon's face in as he puts the whipped cream in the shopping cart. Milk is the next thing on the list, so he pushes the basket around the corner, grabbing a gallon from the refrigerator.

He glances at the items that he's already picked up, shaking his head in disgust because they don't even need half of these things. Chocolate syrup? Like Brendon needs anymore sugar, but he starts in that direction anyway.

After grabbing a bottle, he goes in search of the next item on the list.

Cereal.

Well, at least this is an easy one. He knows how much Brendon loves Cocoa Puffs. He's half-tempted to get the wrong box, but for some reason he feels the urge to be nice and grabs the right one.

They always get the biggest box because Brendon goes through them like they're nothing. Remembering that he too is out of his favorite cereal, he picks up some Cap'n Crunch as well.

Thankful that he's almost done shopping, because he seriously is about to have a stroke or something if he stays in here any longer, he starts off in the direction of the last item.

Ryan raises his eyebrow at the last thing on the list:

Rope?

What does this crazy fucker have planned for tonight? I feel sorry for whoever it is he's bringing over to the house. It sounds like they're in for a night of...well, rape.

His Sidekick vibrates in his pocket, and he answers it quickly, seeing that it's Brendon.

"You rang?"

"Yeah, what the fuck? Do you want me to pick up some cigarettes for you too?"

"Huh?"

"All this shit you're making me buy. I figured you might need some nicotine for your post-coital bliss."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Ry, but would you hurry up with the goddamn pizza rolls? I'm fucking starving here."

Ryan rolls his eyes, putting his Sidekick away, and going toward the Sporting Goods section to buy rope. When he gets to it, he stands in front of the brightly colored assortment. He decides he's been at Wal-Mart way too fucking long, grabbing the closest one.

When Ryan gets to the line, he only has to wait a few minutes before he starts pulling his purchases out of the cart and placing them on the check out counter. After the customer ahead of him takes the change from the cashier and leaves, Ryan starts digging his wallet out of his back pocket.

The look on the cashier's face is priceless; it's a look between amusement and confusion, and Ryan honestly feels sorry for her. The things she probably sees day in and day out would be enough to make him want to gouge his eyes out.

Refraining from looking her in the eye, he slides his credit card in the machine, sends a timid 'thanks' and is out of the door.

When he gets to his Mercedes, he sees that some asshole put a buggy right next to it. If he were to find that fucker who did this he would smash his head into--yeah, okay, once again, you get the point.