#CHRISTIAN ! WHEN I TELL U I GASPED !
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(NSFW) SHORT — Christian Tenebrae (01)
Originally Written: 01-08-21
Prompt: can we have Ritsu or Christian getting a bj? 👀
Christian's spread legs twitch like they want to close. His thighs are small, so thin you almost think you could wrap both hands around them, and painfully pale. Between that and his soft cock resting between his legs, he looks about as fragile as it gets.
"So... you're really gonna put your mouth on my... u-um...?" he asks nervously.
You nod from where you're kneeling. "Yep. Your dick."
His cheeks promptly go faintly pink. It's easy to forget that Christian is sheltered enough that even the word 'penis' would have him blushing.
"O-Okay..."
Christian isn't usually the type for nerves, but he certainly looks anxious from where you're sitting. You run warm fingers up the outside of his thigh and he shivers. A kiss to the inner part of his leg, just above his knee, draws a little squeak out of him. As you smile up at him, Christian is blushing even more.
"Let me be good to you," you breathe, and lean in closer.
When you press a matching hiss to his inner thigh, dangerously close to his dick, Christian makes a soft, gasping sound. You see his cock twitch a bit, blood already starting to fill it. Down here, he's rather small, cutely pink, and naturally all but hairless.
You bring your hand up and cup under his tender, smooth balls. Christian's legs tremble like they want to close. You use your free hand to hold them open. As you lick your lips, Christian looks like he's either incredibly aroused or about to try to wriggle away. He's the perfect little present— and all yours for the taking.
Slowly, you drag your tongue along the upper surface of his shaft.
"Nngh—!"
The noise that promptly leaves him is small and weak. You know that Christian had never even tried to get himself off before meeting you, so it's not unexpected. Sexual things of any nature tend to affect him more than you'd expect.
"Th-That feels—" Christian stutters. You're not sure if he intended to follow it up with 'good' or 'weird', because you let your mouth close around the head of his cock...
...and he cuts himself off with a loud squeak.
Instantly, Christian's little heels kick a bit. His hands ball into fists by his sides. He makes at attempt words, but all that comes out are high-pitched moans.
You just sit there, suckling lightly on the soft, clean-tasting head of him. The weight of his small cock feels good against your tongue, and when you hum with contentment, Christian all but shrieks. His hands go to your hair involuntarily. He's still careful not to pull, but his fingers dig in and you can hear him panting in between moaning gasps.
After licking him until his moans start to sound more like sobs, dragging your tongue over his tip again and again until you're having to hold his thighs open by force, you pull back. A thin trail of saliva connects your lips and Christian's cock. The sight of it makes him blush even more.
"How's it feel, baby boy?"
"I-I, um, ah... I-It's good..." Christian manages. His legs are shaking and his eyes look glazed.
"You're cute," you tell him. "Your cock is so hard now, see? It's all red up here." You tap the flushed head genty. "And when my mouth is on you, I can feel it twitch."
Christian promptly whines from embarrassment.
"Th-That's... I'm s-sorry," he squeaks.
"Not sorry. It's cute. I'm going to keep you in my mouth until you come. And even then, maybe I'll play with you by making you keep going..."
His eyes go very, very wide. You can see a little shiver run through his shoulders. After swallowing loudly, Christian very nervously spreads his legs to give you better access, turning his head away so you can see a little less of his blushing face.
Smiling, you return your mouth to his cock. As soon as your lips close over him again, Christian lets out yet another oft, need-filled sound.
He's squirming in no time. You suck on him deep and slow, and he whimpers and wriggles until you have to pin his hips down so he doesn't squirm away. Christian only gets louder after you're holding him down, which leads you to the quick conclusion that he likes that quite a bit. Maybe next time, you'll have to tie him up.
But for now, you focus on making him slowly lose his mind from pleasure. Christian keeps getting harder against the inside of your mouth. You can taste pre-come dripping from him at a steady pace. He's hot, swollen, and ultra-sensitive.
And before long, Christian starts trying to manage words again. It's all slurred and stumbled, but what you think is begging is leaving his lips in a steady stream. It's either that or he's praising you, and you honestly don't know which you prefer. He's too cute. In every regard, he really is just as cute as it gets.
You know that he has to be close. From the way that Christian has progressed to shuddering all over and whimpering like he can't get air, he's probably going to come within seconds.
So you press your tongue up against the tender spot under the head of him and hum.
Christian howls. His thighs snap inward and squeeze against your head as he shakes and gasps and comes.
Hot come gushes against your tongue, and you suck it all down. Now that he's going to be even more sensitive, you get rough, working Christian through his orgasm until he clearly trying to get out that he can't take it anymore.
When he's actively trying (albeit weakly) to push your head away, you give him a break. As soon as your mouth is off of his now-soft, red-all-over cock, he lets out a massive, shuddering sigh and doubles over like you've killed him. The little, whimpering breaths he lets out are music to your ears. You've truly wrecked your sweet, sweet boy.
"How'd it feel, honey?" you ask sweetly as you rub his thigh to offer some comfort.
"G-Good..." Christian whimpers. There are overwhelmed tears in his eyes.
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sorry to be nosy, but do u have any insights as someone who went through a divorce at a young age?
don't be sorry - what a fascinating question! it's STORYTIME. i don't know if this is so much my 'insights' as it is ruminations, but i digress.
i guess my number one tip would be: don't marry a bigot,,,
i'm kidding. mostly.
i'm very transparent about why i got divorced (if you know me in real life, you know how true this is), but that's what it boiled down to. i got married VERY young, 95% due to deeply religious family on both sides, 5% because i truly believed i had found the person i was going to be with forever. if you're going to be together forever, why not just bite the bullet and get married young, right?
i came out to my ex-husband as bisexual super early on in our relationship (i think 2 months into dating) because i obviously needed him to a) know i was queer and b) be cool about it, and he was. if i recall, he said, "oh. ok, good for you."
(later, he told me that that moment was almost a dealbreaker for him. i NEVER would have known, based on how he reacted in the moment.)
as a married couple, we were awesome roommates and very good friends and overall a wonderful team. then i started properly deconstructing christianity around the same time i started thinking about gender, and covid hit immediately after. i didn't come out to anyone as nonbinary until march 2021, and when i did, he was the first person i talked to. he was... significantly less cool about it than he was with bisexuality.
here's the thing. he LOVED having a wife. in hindsight, it's really easy to see that i could have been anyone, and he was really ready to settle down. i have to give myself some credit, because i think i'm excellent, but i do think that to some extent i was in the right place at the right time and checked off a lot of his boxes. if that sounds a little cold to you -- a SHOCKING amount of cishet men do this. it's weird.
anyway, i was His Wife™, and while i was by no means a traditional christian wife, i was still a very she/her slay queen girly.
then i started committing sins. (got some tattoos. started writing about The Gays. started speaking out against the church. Cut My Hair Short [cue gasps]. started dressing more androgynously.)
he couldn't get his head around using gender neutral language for me. to his students (he was in education at the time) i was His Wife. to his family, i was His Wife, even after i came out to them too. classic wifeguy stuff.
my current partner (who is SO wonderful) was in the process of becoming that best friend you have really confusing gay feelings about, and had to deal with me talking about this and how i was just going to have to settle for being with this guy who wouldn't respect my gender, even when that disrespect started actually making my skin crawl when he'd get close. because hey, marriage is for life. it didn't even occur to me that we might get divorced until about 4 days before The Conversation. i was genuinely ready to stick it out with this guy who refused to really See me, because i thought that was what i had to do.
then came The Conversation. i'd been invited to be a bridesmaid in his sister's wedding and had agreed to wear a dress, because hey, it's her wedding. if she wants bridesmaids in dresses, sure. (i was still very much reeling from my own wedding, but that's another story i'll tell if anyone's curious.)
anyway. dresses. i go to a fitting. i stand there numbly while wearing the most godawful dress i'd ever seen, feeling like Garbage. i go home. i step in the door, i burst into tears. sobbing, on the couch, i tell him that something's not right. i can't wear a dress to this wedding.
i think that was when he realized i wasn't going to grow out of being nonbinary. we had a really long, brutal conversation, mostly about how i was probably going to want top surgery one day, that ultimately resulted in him ending our marriage.
"i can't make you be somebody you're not," he told me. "but you can't make me attracted to you."
that's right, folks! the thing that ended my marriage was my tits.
we'd sat through and endured many conversations in which i shared my feelings about the church, about christianity, about the patriarchy, about gender as a whole, but in the end, the thing he could not get his head around was a version of me that didn't have a chest.
i won't lie, that shit stung. the constant rejection of my gender expression had sort of eroded any romantic love i felt for him at that point, but he'd been my closest confidant for so long by that point that i really had to work through some shit about worthiness in the weeks after. it was just surreal to me that me With tits was good and worth being married to, but a hypothetical version of me with a flat chest was so repulsive that he'd rather end a marriage than endure it.
and like, i get being a boob guy (trust me), but damn.
p.s. some really interesting notes: he waited to have this conversation with me until literally the week after i received the first 5-figure portion of my book deal advance, which meant when we were settling affairs, it counted as "marital income" and he got half, and then he hired lawyers behind my back after we said we wouldn't do that.
in hindsight? maybe it was never about the tits at all. ;)
#alex talks#storytime#divorce#storytime with alex#personal#asks#i love talking about the bullshit that happens in my personal life it's very fun to me#if anyone else has questions about this or anything else u know where my inbox is babey#full disclosure? getting over him was EZ and genuinely took about 4 minutes. getting over my PARENTS? holy fuck#(they didn't take the divorce Or the gender very well)
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I lost a fucking bet today! So now I have to post past conversations with my friends. Why? Because that’s was I’m supposed to do when and if I lost. So please don’t mind this weird shit! Please and thank you!! :)
Literally A Legend
I HATE HERCULES!
Literally Annabeth Chase
Me too, but low key I’d admit that zero to hero is a bop
Me
So, true but man If you really think about it. He really is every other fucking guy :/
Literally A Legend
I get why our Lila hates him but why do you hate him? Isn’t he like the ideal type for Straight and ready to mingle people?
Me
First of all he’s an asshole in the real Greek myths. Second, he’s not my ideal type. DO YOU THINK I HAVE SUCH LOW STANDARDS IN MEN??!!!!
Lowkey A Nerd
No, cuz u right. He takes after his father in the HIGHEST degree. I have never loved how in PJO Alaska was off limits for the Gods. So glad I’m on vacay!
Me
Yeah, you were a bitch and left us stranded. Which is betrayal!
Literally A Legend
Castaways~
Literally Annabeth Chase
We are castaways~
Me
Ahoy There!
Literally A Legend
Ahoy!
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Literally A Legend
AHHHHHHHHHHH
FUCK THE WORLD I HOPE EVERyONE BURNS expect you mi sole. **** you’re a saint to this hell of a world.
Me
Thank you?Are you okay?
Literally A Legend
Yep just having depression and some tiny very small suicidal thoughts but don’t worry I’m not actually going to hurt myself. I’ve been working on doing better habits than you know…
Lowkey a Nerd
Lol sucks to suck.
Literally A Legend
Go suck and Choke on a D!ck then die.
Me
OKAY! Anyways what’s up?
Biggest Gay Disaster Walking
Wtf did I just walk into?
Me
NOTHING!! We’re moving on from the subject.
Literally Annabeth Chase
alright, *Gasp*
Literally A Legend
Did you just text gasp?
Literally Annabeth Chase
yes, anyway think about this. A fucking book being much more effective as a weapon than a phone…
Biggest Gay Disaster Walking
whay brought ths on?
Me
What* this*
Biggest Gay Disaster Walking
FUCK OFF!
Me
>:(
Literally Annabeth Chase
wtf is wrong with you!?
Literally A Legend
Not cool, being rude to our sol like that.
Lowkey a Nerd
Like how dare you. HOW FUCKING DARE YOU!
Me
Okay that’s a bit dramatic. Anyways Lila what were you going to say?
Literally Annabeth Chase
Oh, right!
So, the funniest thing ever just happened!
I was told to “Act my Age” right?
Me
Okay
Lowkey a Nerd
Cool that’s like the 5th time
Me
shhh… Jason (Literally A Legend) doesn’t need to know that.
Literally A Legend
Wt o u mean it te 5h time??
Biggest Gay Disaster Walking
I cannot read that whatsoever. **** (My real Name was here) translate, you hang around him so much that you might be the only that knows what stupidity he says most of the time
Me
That’s kinda mean but okie! Translation - What do you mean it's the 5th time?? Anyways Lily continue on with what you were saying.
Literally Annabeth Chase
Kinda, forgot about what I was saying for a sec, lol.
So, an old Karen told me that and I told her “What the fuck is that, ‘Act my Age?” She said “Don’t you care about acting like a grown young lady?” “What do I care how fucking old I am? Like the ocean is so old, Karen. But you still see it trying to drown your ass with vigor.”
She just gasped and looked at me. “You’ll go to hell with that language, young lady. How could your parents let you become such a sinner”
Lowkey a Nerd
The fuck? She has to be one of those funky ass Christians who tell Carlos to go to Hell.
Biggest Gay Disaster Walking
She sounds like them. So, probably.
Literally A Legend
So, what happens next?
Literally Annabeth Chase
I ended up telling that “my parents left to get gas when I was 5, that’s how I’m like this ma’am.”
Big Ass Giant
Wow
Literally A Legend
Where tf did you come from?
Have you been lurking this own time, Vesper?
Big Ass Giant
Yup! :)
Me
Coolio! B)
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Biggest Gay Disaster Walking
Go to hell Big Ass Giant
Big Ass Giant
But then I’d be leaving you without anyone to keep you company. :(
Me
:O
Biggest Gay Disaster Walking
STFU ****
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Context - A one of my friends was being a little shit.
Big Ass Giant
You know **** if you were an actual decent person then maybe people wouldn’t want to avoid you or stop talking to you.
Me
You know, that if you keep running your mouth so much, you’d be the skinniest person here?
Literally A Legend
Damn, she got chu good
Biggest Gay Disaster Walking
And you guys say I’m the meanest.
Me
It wasn’t mean. It was a fact
Big Ass Giant
Betrayal! How could you have betrayed, me my dear star
————————————————
Me
Now that I think about it, Literally A Legend you could and do trip over your shadow a lot.
Biggest Gay Disaster Walking
Wait, really?
You need to film it for me next time.
Literally A Legend
Fuck off. Also my shadow is an extremely tricky big asshole. He likes it when I fall to his level
Lowkey a Nerd
How do you know it’s a he?
Literally Annabeth Chase
OmG! Don’t start this shit again!
Literally A Legend
Holy Shit you right! My shadow might be Nonbinary!
Me
Now look at what you did… :/
————————————————
Me
Biggest Gay Disaster Walking, at least try and say something positive or happy today. It might help drown out the negativity!
Biggest Gay Disaster Walking
Well, my dad’s dead! :D
Me
I know your dad was a huge Asshole but ykw from you I’ll take that answer. I mean it’s close enough! :)
Biggest Gay Disaster Walking
:D
YAY! Are you proud of me?
Me
I mean it’s close enough! :)
So, yes I am.
Big Ass Giant
I’m genuinely concerned with your sanity **** (talking about me). But good job Biggest Gay Disaster Walking, you made mother happy
Me
stfu, I’m not your mother
Literally A Legend
Mama
Lowkey a Nerd
Mama
Literally Annabeth Chase
Mama
(They typed this at the same time btw)
Me
…Not one word Big Ass Giant
Big Ass Giant
\{. __ .|||
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Literally A Legend
Look at our lovely Sol, she's smiling! So, she’s obviously perfectly fine
Biggest Gay Disaster Walking
She’s not smiling because she’s fine. She is smiling because she’s completely terrified of the trauma we faced.
Lowkey a Nerd
That’s pretty much the same thing…
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See ya soon for a sneak peak on A Star Meets The Sky!
#idk what im doing#screaming#this is madness#i don’t know what i’m doing to be honest#oh#Why I even friends with these people#I should have never made this bet!!#Regrets#Big Time Regrets…
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human | solomon x reader
based on lesson 46-12, so spoilers if you’re not up to it. if you know u know 😉 MC is gender neutral ✌
Word Count: 1.4k
Warnings: softcore smut, not rly explicit and it doesn’t rly start till abt 1k words in but it’s still there. also like one swear word. plus it’s nearly 2am so if there are typos etc. pls forgive me, i’ll give it a read through when i wake up to fix ‘em (probably)
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You awake to a shuffling sound in the corner, and a year of living with seven demons has left you with more sense than to just ignore it. Still half asleep, you squint into the darkness and sigh an incoherent mumble.
“...oh, sorry. Did I wake you?” Solomon asks, voice barely above a whisper.
It takes you a moment to remember where you are; in a cramped motel room in a world that doesn’t really exist, undertaking a trial for your goddamn magic license, which somehow did exist, and the master to your apprenticeship waking you up as though this circumstance wasn’t the stuff of a fever dream already, or some twisted fairytale that slipped the works of Hans Christian Anderson.
“Mm… it’s fine. What’s up? Can’t sleep?” you sleepily slur.
“No… it’s weird, you know? After all that walking we did today, I should be really tired.” Although his voice is even, Solomon’s face echoes a vestige of sadness; loneliness only exacerbated as he continues. “As I watched the twins earlier, I couldn’t help thinking… they’ve always had each other. It’s just natural for them. And even though they don’t say it outright, you can tell how much they trust and rely on each other… it must be nice, you know? To have someone like that in your life. I guess even if you live for centuries on end, there are some things that can always elude you.”
Blinking away remnants of sleep, you push onto your knees and crawl a little closer to him. He sits on the edge of the bed, and you hear it creak as it dips beneath him, the motion pulling you towards him like gravity itself.
“Hey… you have me. You always will, okay? You’re not alone… you have people who care about you,” you protest, and Solomon chuckles.
“Thanks, MC… you really are nice. I’d like to have people I care about, and who care about me… especially if one of those people is you.”
You exchange a smile lit only by the dim streetlight spilling through the weathered, yellowing windows. Solomon’s eyes don’t leave you, and there’s a softness there you’re not accustomed to.
“Hmm… you know, going to sleep in an inn room and then suddenly waking up in the middle of the night is another staple RPG scenario, isn’t it? And usually at times like these, you can expect some sort of really important story event to take place. So what do you think, MC? Is that what’s about to happen here..?”
His eyes find yours, capturing you in a warm a gaze you wouldn’t dare to break; you become all too aware of the sound of your shallow breathing, and rise and fall of your chest, the lump of your thrumming heart in your throat. The air smells like dust and ash, with remnants of smoke from the fireplace curling around the ceiling as the tendrils creep into the cracks between the wood. Your eyelids are heavy, yet sleep has surely relinquished its hold on you.
Solomon is quiet as he looks at you questioningly; murky blue eyes seem to bore into your soul, and in this light, with his hair messy and wearing a loose shirt and cotton pants, you’re jarred by the reminder of his humanity. Now that the magic and jewellery and smirk has been stripped away, you’re left with warmth, sincerity, and something so purely human that you’d never seen in him before. It was something about his eyes, or maybe the bob of his Adam’s apple, the hints of five o’clock shadow carving his jaw, the slight flush blotching his cheeks. At this moment, he isn’t a powerful sorcerer to whom Asmodeus himself is beholden; he’s a person. A human. Two humans sitting together in an inn room with lights off, tangled in scratchy bedsheets as breeze rattles the windowsill overlooking the flame-lit cobbled streets outside. Like something out of a fairy tale.
You’re so lost in his eyes that you forget to speak, and a teasing smile slopes his lips, although the corners of his eyes are just a little too tight, his breath just a little uneven. He swallows, licks his lips…
“Does that look in your eyes mean I can kiss you?”
You reply by crossing the small distance left between you and kissing him. After a stuttered breath, Solomon kisses you back, leaning into you and deepening the kiss as his arms slide around your waist. Once he’s started kissing you, it seems he can’t stop; he presses kiss after kiss to your mouth, his tongue seeking yours, his hands squeezing and tugging you ever closer as you lose yourself in his warmth, the lavender and patchouli fragrance that always seems to follow him, in the eager grasping of his hands on your skin and of your fingers in his hair and of the taste of sleep and evening and to draw it all together, the smoky spark of magic in every touch of his body against yours.
“...I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Solomon confesses breathlessly between kisses. “But you know, wherever you are, Lucifer and his brothers are sure to be nearby. I thought maybe there was no hope. That I’d never get an opportunity.”
In his pause, you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Well it’s just you and I tonight, right? Just us.” Your breath rustles the silken hair that isn’t snagged between your fingers, and Solomon smiles.
“Then… I take it this means I have a chance, right? A chance to… deepen our connection.” He supplements the words with a lingering kiss to your throat. “Why don’t you come just a little closer, MC..?”
You sigh, lips seeking his again as you crawl until you’re chest to chest. Slinging a leg over his waist, you climb into his lap and Solomon wastes no time in stealing your breath. His lips are hot, fast, sloppy yet calculated, and he holds you until your head is spinning and you can’t remember your own name.
“Solomon…” is the only utterance you can fathom, and then he smiles against your mouth, and you lose even that.
Wandering hands trail along your waist, beneath your shirt, and shivers ripple down your spine as Solomon suckles at your throat and twists his hands in heavenly ways that curl your toes and pry any thought from your head that doesn’t centre around Solomon, and you, and Solomon and you, two humans alone in an inn room and suddenly your clothes are gone and he’s on top of you and-
Solomon groans as he sinks into you, kissing along the column of your neck, suckling on your jaw, your chest, hands caressing every inch of soft flesh as he whispers curses in languages you’ve never heard into your skin.
You can feel the magic radiating off him as he thrusts, feel your power imbued with his, the fusing of your auras as his lips meld to your skin, over and over, hot and wet and electric and then-
“Fuck, Solomon,” you hiss, head thrown back against the feather-stuffed pillows as his moans are lost in the temple of your body while his hips bruise against yours.
“Mm… you feel so good, my perfect apprentice… my… my beautiful MC…” His words come in sharp gasps out of time with his urgent motions, and you feel him collapse against you as his hips stutter and his seed starts to drip from between your legs, hot and slick as it spills onto the bedsheets. The intrusion has the tightening in your abdomen finally erupting into the shaking of your legs, into shivers of pleasure that race up your skin and draw sharp gasps from lips that Solomon stifles with a hard kiss.
“Solomon…” you manage to breathe as he removes himself from you, lays beside you with a heaving chest and sparkling eyes mirrored in your own.
“Sleep, MC… you did so well… more work tomorrow…” he manages to sigh, his arms closing around your back and dragging you into his chest as he kisses you again, and presses a final kiss to your forehead.
Relaxing into his chest, you nod, humming as forgotten tendrils of sleep begin to slink between your thoughts and numb your tongue.
“‘Kay… night, Solomon…”
You feel him smile against your forehead, and if this is a fairytale, you hope you never reach the last page.
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heyo, thanks for reading! if u enjoyed and u have a spare moment pls comment and reblog, it really makes my day!!! love u hope u have a good day/night 🥺👉👈
#obey me#solomon obey me#solomon x reader#swd obey me#solomon x mc#swd om#solomon#obey me solomon#obey me fanfic#om solomon#obey me solomon x mc#obey me solomon x reader#om#smut#obey me solomon smut#swd solomon#swd solomon x reader#swd solomon x mc#swd solomon smut
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Forbidden Romance
Title: Forbidden Romance
Summary: Ivar the Boneless finds a Princess during one of his raids on Mercia, a sign from the Gods he decides. She is a Christian and he is a Viking, a forbidden romance on both sides of the sea. But Ivar does not care what others think, and he won’t start now.
Ratings: Mature, NSFW in later chapters, violence, non-con
Paring: Ivar the Boneless x Female OC
C H A P T E R ONE --- FATE
“Come here.” Ivar wagged his pointer and middle fingers of his right hand towards the princess, beckoning her forward. A sly smirk curved at his lips when he saw the fear pool within her eyes. Slender shoulders slumped in distress and she grasped at the material of her dress, bunching it in her palms as if she was getting ready to
R U N.
Ivar watched as she looked around the chapel where her bishop lay dead, his blue eyes fixed on her as she searched hopelessly for an escape that did not exist. The young woman soon realised she was out of options and settled her frightened gaze back onto the Viking.
“Did you not hear me, Christian?” He asked, his gravelled Nordic accent sneering around the religious word as if it was filth in his mouth. “I said come here.”
When once again she didn’t move at his command, Ivar the Boneless glanced at his brother Hvitserk who wasted not another second in grabbing her arm and yanking her forward roughly. Her breath hitched in her throat as she stumbled over the blue fabric of her dress and she froze when presented in front of the man whose name she had heard many times before now.
The locals some of whom had fought and survived battles against the Vikings said he was a God, some even were convinced that he couldn’t be killed, that he had been sent from the devil himself to burn all that was good from the world.
She swore that her heart would surely give out, not able to handle the stress she had been put under. What would he do with her?
“Tell me, what is your name?” He asked after a moment of studying her, leaning forward on his metal cane that creaked against the blood stained floorboards. He stared right through her, and she attempted to turn away from him but he scowled and snatched her chin between calloused fingers, forcing her to look up at him. The anger he possessed in his features was terrifying, and though he was handsome, it did not matter to her in that moment. He was a monster, that much was clear to her. “Answer me.”
“Please –“ She trembled, tears swelling in her soft eyes. “Please let me go, take anything you want, I won’t tell anyone.”
Ivar’s men broke out into a chorus of laughter as they ransacked the chapel, stepping over the bodies that littered the Holy site as the princess begged for her life. Ivar smiled back at her, amused at how she truly thought to herself that he would just let her free. So naïve. Snorting out a breath, he lifted a bloodied thumb and grazed it against her pale cheek, leaving a deep red mark behind. “I already have taken everything I want. This shithole town that belonged to your father is burning around us as we speak, it won’t be long before this chapel burns too. The people who resisted are now dead, the ones who didn’t are now slaves and will serve my people until there is no further use for them.”
Pausing, Ivar eyed the princess carefully and leaned in close until his face was level with hers. He felt something ignite within him as her bottom lip trembled, the fear she radiated was so infectious that it excited him. “As for your father, I had him crucified outside the town walls as a warning to the others who will no doubt come running to his aid.”
The princess lowered her head and sobbed quietly, tears spilling down her cheeks and into the crooks of her lips. She tried to take a step back away from him, but gasped when he snatched her throat and yanked her so close to him that she could smell the leather and blood clinging to him, along with musk and mud.
“You. Are. Evil.” She mustered through her terror, her mouth parting as he squeezed with just enough pressure to make her uncomfortable.
“I could not care less about what you think of me, girl.” He smirked at her then, feeling her pulse quicken in his hand. She was like a baby deer to him, it wouldn’t take much to break her in half if he wanted to. Making Christians squeal was a talent he had perfected, even his own brothers couldn’t stomach some of the imaginative techniques he used in killing those who apposed him. He imaged in that moment what it would look like to strip her naked and nail her to a cross alongside her father, letting her bleed out slowly and painfully. Oh, how King Alfred would weep at such a tragedy. “I am Ivar the Boneless and I am your new God. Now – tell me your name before you make me hurt you.”
She glowered at him, wishing him the worst pain and misery she could possibly imagine. If only God would strike him down now, she would pray to him every day until her last.
“My name is Freya.” She hissed through her teeth at him, wincing as his nails nipped at her tender skin.
Ivar’s smirk faded almost immediately and something else filled his eyes when he looked at her. Loosening his grip on her neck, he pulled his hand from her entirely and blinked when she coughed.
“Freya…” He murmured, tasting her name on his tongue as he gazed at her curiously. “How is it possible for a girl from these lands to share the name of our Goddess, hmm?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” She bit back at him, lifting her hand to touch at her neck that was now reddened from his harshness.
“It doesn’t matter, hush now.” Pressing his index finger against her full lips, Ivar turned to look at his men who continued to take their share in the spoils they found within the chapel. If he ordered them to kill the girl, they would have and wouldn’t have thought twice about it. Hvitserk stood alert with sword in hand, waiting for the go-ahead to drive the steel through her heart like a knife through butter. But Kattegat’s King had changed his mind. Returning his gaze back to princess Freya, he sighed and rolled broad shoulders into a shrug.
“I was going to kill you. I had it all planned so beautifully in my mind.” He tapped his temple with his fingers and smiled at her deviously. “What would break King Alfred’s spirit more than having him see such a lovely princess crucified to a cross alongside her pig father? Having you die this way would make your people fear me more than they already do, you have no idea how much I hunger for that kind of fame.”
Freya trembled at the thought, but she said nothing to Ivar as he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. His lips lingered against her skin as he spoke. “But now that I know that your name is Freya, I truly believe Odin has delivered you to me for a reason. You may think I am crazy, you won’t be the only one – but Odin does not want me to sacrifice you. He wants me to save you.”
Freya didn’t understand. She furrowed her brows as she stared up at the King, feeling her sadness overwhelm her.
“You always think everything is a sign from the Gods, brother – even when it is not!” Hvitserk grumbled, lifting his sword and pointing its sharpened tip at Freya threateningly. “She’s a Christian. Kill her and be done with it, enough of these games. We need to leave for Kattegat and bring these spoils back to our people before reinforcements arrive.”
“Are you telling me what to do, Hvitserk?” Ivar asked mockingly, his tone a veiled threat as he narrowed his steely glare at his brother. “Of course it is a sign from the Gods! You remember Freydis, yes?”
Sighing deeply, Hvitserk clinched his jaw at the mention of his brother’s once wife.
“And where is she now, Ivar?” He asked. “Dead. You killed her, remember?”
“Of course, I remember!” He seethed, his eyes darkening angrily. “She betrayed me, I had to kill her for the lies she told. And as much as I loved her, and Gods did I LOVE her – her death had to happen. You know this, everybody knows this. Odin demanded her sacrifice and now in turn he has gifted me with Freya.”
Eyes widening, the princess felt Ivar’s hand come to rest on the small of her back and glanced at the other son of Ragnar who glared at her like she was the top name on his list of people he wanted to kill. How could it be that her life now depended on Ivar?
“If that is what you believe, then so be it. I do not care anymore.” Hvitserk growled, glaring between his brother and the new pet he had claimed. “Take the Christian with you, all I’m concerned about is sailing home to Kattegat.”
“And we will.” Ivar stated, waving his hand at his men, commanding them wordlessly to go ahead and ready the longships for the journey home. “Come now, princess – we are going to Norway.”
“Norway?” She flinched from his touch as he reached for her arm, terrified of being whisked away to a foreign land. “Please Ivar, no.”
“Shut up.” He warned her carefully. He was in no mood for complaints, it had already been a long enough day. “Do not make me have to stuff your mouth with cloth and hog-tie you, it’s a rough journey across the North Sea and it would very uncomfortable for you. I would prefer it if you do as I say, and we will get along so much better.”
Her need to cry and fight him was unbearable, she wanted to scream and punch and kick him but she had no allies here. All her family, friends, everyone she had grown up with were now dead.
“Good.” Ivar patted her cheek, taking her silence as a victory. “Now, time to go.” Guiding her forward, the Viking allowed his men to flank her on either side to lead her out to the ships.
Ivar limped behind them, leaving a path of destruction in his wake.
tags: @punkrocknpearls @youbloodymadgenius @strayrockette
#Ivar the boneless#vikings#fic#romance#forbidden romance#female oc#my tags aren’t working atm to tag people idk what’s up I will need a fix
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better than the movie ~ machine gun kelly
word count: 1757
request?: yes!
@m-is-for-monkeys “hey! could u write a super bdsm smut about colson?? Thanks♡”
description: colson wants to try something in the bedroom, but has to assure his girlfriend it won’t be anything like a popular movie series
pairing: machne gun kelly x female!reader
warnings: swearing, smut
masterlist
(i’m not good with writing bdsm so it’s not gonna be super bdsm-y)
If there was one thing you could say about Colson in the bedroom, it was that he liked to experiment.
At first, you had been intimidated by Colson - sexually that is. He was a big, hot shot rapper and actor. He had groupies throwing themselves at him at every opportunity. You had only ever been with one person intimately. You were sure Colson had done basically everything in the book by the time the two of you had gotten together, which intimidated you a little.
The first time you were intimate together, Colson revealed that he had never done anything more than just some vanilla sex. He had fucked in nearly every position, but nothing more than the usual.
Due to this, you decided to make a list of things you wanted to try. Whenever you were both in the mood, you’d cross something new off the list.
You had gone through the list pretty fast, and now you were at the one Colson was most excited for: BDSM.
You had agreed to put it on the list as a joke, not thinking Colson would really want to do it. As the list neared that particular item, you were sure Colson would also scratch it off and say he wasn’t interested in doing it. So, when Colson started coming home with different sets of bondage toys, you were shocked, and a little nervous.
“Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t actually want to do it?” he asked the night that you had both finally reached BDSM on the list. “I wouldn’t have added it if I knew you didn’t actually like the idea of it.”
He wasn’t mad, more just concerned. You were grateful that he wasn’t going to push you to do it.
“I thought it was a joke,” you said with a shrug. “I didn’t know you were actually into it. I figured...”
You trailed off. Colson’s head tilted, like a confused dog. “You figured...?”
You sighed. “I figured you wouldn’t be into it because you despise the Fifty Shades series so much. I mean, when we watched the first movie together you were so disgusted. You said that they made BDSM look wrong and abusive. I kind of thought...the movies had turned you off of it. I know they did for me.”
Realization crossed Colson’s face then, as if everything suddenly made sense. “You have a point, those movies did disgust me. I’ll never understand why we decided to watch all three.” You giggled at his joke. “But they made me mad because they made something I wanted to do look like it was just a tactic to keep someone in a toxic relationship. I didn’t want to try and bring it up after we watched those movies because I was afraid you would connect BDSM with Fifty Shades, and that was the last thing I wanted.”
You felt guilty then. Even though you hadn’t know that was Colson’s mindset at the time, you had fallen into exactly what he was worried about, which had led to this whole misunderstanding.
He wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on yours. “We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. I’m all for skipping it and going to the next thing on the list. I’m not going to push you to do something you don’t want to do.”
You thought for a moment. BDSM was not something you had ever been interested in, and of course, you now associated it with the god awful Twilight fanfic movies, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t even the slightest bit interested once. Even while watching the first Fifty Shades movie, you couldn’t help but cross your legs a little tighter the first time Christian had tied up Ana, or when he whipped her (although you had felt guilty for that one by the end of the movie).
And you knew Colson wasn’t Christian Grey. He wouldn’t make you do something you didn’t want to do, and he’d never hurt you. He’d be too upset with himself if he did. You knew he’d be gentle enough with you, and if you wanted him to stop he would stop.
“Okay,” you said, before realizing that you hadn’t exactly answered his question. “I mean...yeah, I’d like to try it.”
“Are you sure? One last chance to back out,” Colson said, although you could see a little glimmer of excitement in his eyes.
You smiled and leaned up to kiss him. “I’m sure, babe. I trust you.”
He smiled and kissed you deeply. You giggled as he literally swept you off your feet and began carrying you to the bed.
“Decide on a safe word now so I know when you use it,” he told you as he laid you down on the bed. He turned to start collecting the things he had bought specifically for this moment.
You blurted the first thing that came to your mind for a safe word: “Pineapple.”
You felt your face burn with slight embarrassment as Colson turned to look at you, a small smile on his face. “Pineapple works for me.”
He held up a blindfold, silently asking you one more time if you were okay with what was about to happen. You nodded and sat up, pulling your hair back so it wouldn’t get tangled in the blindfold. Your vision went black as Colson wrapped the soft fabric around your eyes. He tied it tight around your head, but not too tight that it would hurt you.
With your vision gone, you suddenly felt more nervous. You felt completely powerless and, although you were now more nervous than before, you were also turned on by this feeling. It felt like Colson had complete control, and that made you tingle in a lower region.
His hands softly guided you back onto the bed before taking one of your hands in his. You felt a soft material wrap around your wrist, followed by the sound of a click; the fuzzy handcuffs Colson had bought. At first, you had laughed when you saw them. They were pink and extremely fuzzy, but Colson soon explained his reasoning behind it - regular metal handcuffs were surely going to hurt you, and that was the last thing he wanted.
He trapped another of your wrists in another set of handcuffs, leaving you completely helpless. You felt his soft lips kiss your neck as his hands began unbuttoning his button up shirt that you were wearing. He kissed over your exposed chest, giving special attention to each of your breasts. You moaned as you felt his tongue lap over your nipple painfully slow.
He continued down your body, leaving soft kisses on your stomach before his fingers looped around your underwear. You bucked your hips up to allow him to slip them down your legs. You whimpered as you felt his lips kiss over your thighs, getting dangerously close to the place you really wanted him.
He placed one kiss on your already dripping core before pulling away, causing you to let out an involuntary whine.
Colson chuckled at your desperation. “Have patience, baby girl.”
You listened to him shuffle for a while. You were longing to feel him touch you again. He had gotten you all worked up, you were dreading if he decided to leave you there all teased with no relief.
You felt a familiar pressure push against your opening. You gasped as Colson pushed himself into you painfully slow, allowing you to feel every inch of him as he filled you up.
His lips were against your neck again as he began to thrust, immediately picking up speed. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close and pressing his body closer against yours. His hips grinded into yours as his hands travelled down your body and cupped your ass.
You realized that having the blindfold on made everything feel so much better. Having your vision stripped away heightened your other senses, especially your sense of pleasure as Colson’s hips met yours. Pulling at the restraints around your wrists, you wanted nothing more than to dig your nails into Colson’s back as you cried out in pleasure.
You were definitely grateful that he had bought the cushioned handcuffs now.
You felt the familiar pressure starting to grow in your stomach as Colson’s thrusts became faster. You could feel him twitching inside of you, signaling that he was getting close to his own climax.
“I-I’m so cl-close,” you managed to stutter out through the cloud of pleasure that was in your head.
“Hold it, baby,” Colson whispered in your ear. “I’m close, too.”
It was hard to hold yourself back when you were so powerless against Colson’s hard thrusts, but you tried your best. When you felt his thrusts becoming more sloppy, you couldn’t contain yourself anymore. Your back arched involuntarily as you finally let yourself go, Colson hitting his own climax just seconds after.
He had his head buried in your neck, his muffled moans sending vibrations through your whole body. The two of you were breathing heavily against one another. You went to move your hands to hold Colson, forgetting for a moment that they were still bound together.
“Oh yeah,” Colson said, as if just remembering the bindings himself.
He slipped out of you and undid the handcuffs. An ache that you hadn’t felt before pulsated on your wrists, but it didn’t feel like a bad pain. Just a pleasant reminder of what had just happened.
As he began to untie the blindfold, Colson asked, “So, how was that?”
“Really good,” you admitted. “But also a little disappointing.”
Colson’s face was confused as he pulled the blindfold from your eyes. “Disappointing?”
“I liked the bondage, but you didn’t do much of the domination or the whipping and stuff. I feel like I didn’t get the whole experience.”
A mischievous smile came across Colson’s face as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you down to lay next to him on the bed. “I promise next time I won’t hold anything back.”
You smiled and pointed to the list on the bedside table. Understanding your silent question, Colson rolled over to pick up the list and a pen and passed them to you. You added an arrow between BDSM and what was next on the list and added a new thing to try: “BDSM, but this time no mercy”.
Colson laughed upon reading it and held you tightly.
#machine gun kelly#machine gun kelly imagine#machine gun kelly smut#machine gun kelly x reader#colson baker#colson baker imagine#colson baker smut#colson baker x reader#mgk#estxx#imagine#one request#Smut#request#fanfiction#fanfic#fandom
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“Holly And The Demon Practice Self Defense”
1
“Why do I have to drive?”
The demon rolled Its window down, nail pressing on the button. It then lifted the pressure.
Its window rolled back up.
“Will you please stop doing that?”
The demon chuckled. Its eyes were wide, glinting. Curiosity had gotten the better of It.
Down went the window. Wind came inside.
Holly growled.
“LISTEN TO ME, DAMN IT!”
She hit the brake. And she hit it hard.
The camper jolted, sending the demon forward. It was wearing a seatbelt.
Unfortunately, said seatbelt was pretty slack. It didn’t fit. At that moment, Its weight caused it to extend.
A claw went up. A shocked gasp from chapped lips.
Blam.
A head slammed into the dashboard.
“Hell’s Bells,” It cursed.
Holly smirked. Satisfaction. Pleasure.
A van sped past, a blue blur. It honked. Her smirk immediately fell. A different look came over her, a different kind of smile.
A sneer of rage. She pressed a button.
The demon glared at her, rubbing at Its left horn with a trembling claw. “The heck was that for?!”
Holly didn’t hear It.
She had thrust her torso—head, arms, chest—through her window. Her curls bounced in the wind.
She raised both hands into the air.
The demon found that particular gesture quite familiar.
“#$@& YOU, FATHER#$@&ERS!”
It glanced at the windshield. The back of the van was disappearing, and disappearing fast; growing indistinct. Heat made everything look so… fuzzy.
Everything except for the faces peering through the back windshield.
There were children in the car. Two young boys.
It could see their sandy blond hair. Their wide, sky blue eyes.
Even the glare from their father, who was driving the van, in the rear view mirror.
“U-uh… Holly?”
She still wasn’t listening.
“Go suck a maggot-infested dick! Drown in demon jizz! Eat Lilith’s stinking, rotting, toothy—“
The demon quickly undid Its seatbelt.
It grabbed her skirt, tugging her back inside. It slapped her.
“HOLLY, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SHUT UP!”
She froze.
She blinked.
It suddenly felt something warm—burning—run down Its legs. Her face was slack. It looked like a piece of paper—utterly, uncomprehendingly empty.
Her hand slipped into a pocket.
“D-did you just slap me?
The demon blanched.
Holly glanced down at Its crotch. Her lips curled.
The sneer was back.
“And did you just… pissed yourself?”
It sat down, claw gripping the seatbelt. It pulled. It refused to stretch.
It tugged even harder.
Why now?
Why… now?!
The demon chuckled nervously.
It felt the burning sensation thicken. Yes, It had peed Itself.
And they could both smell it. Like melted plastic. Like lemon distilled, turned liquid.
Holly’s nose wrinkled. Disgust. Hatred.
“Dem…”
She suddenly slumped in the driver’s seat. She grabbed the wheel. Her foot hit the gas pedal.
The camper jolted to life.
“… you #$@&ing nerd.”
…
It apologized.
It rested Its head on the dashboard. It clasped both hands in prayer.
And It apologized.
“Dem,” Holly rolled her eyes. Something went under a tire, making them jolt. “I don’t care if it was an accident.”
The demon chewed on Its tongue.
What came out didn’t sound like English. Or Spanish. Or Latin. Or Japanese. Or Russian. Or Chinese. Or Swedish. Or anything Holly had ever heard.
Nor was it spelled like any fictional language, either. A lonely, depressed college student—even after consuming cans of Blue Raven, then taking an entire bottle of Adderall—couldn’t have come up with it.
Holly had learned fairly quickly.
Demontongue was nonsense. Pure and simple.
A jumble of contradictory consonants and vowels, bearing no resemblance, intentional or not, to any language assembled by any physical mind.
Just hearing it made Holly’s brain sting.
Like a thousand bees were suddenly trapped inside her head.
She scoffed. “Dem. You know I can’t understand that dumbass language. Speak American.”
The demon lifted Its head. It stared at her with wide, shocked eyes.
A flash of horror shimmered within them. Not physical terror. Holly could tell it apart from moral terror.
“A-American?!”
Holly gripped the wheel tighter. Her nails dug into the rubber skin.
“Oh, Jesus. Dem. I was joking.”
It blinked. One eye at a time. The horror dulled a bit, but didn’t fade away.
“J-Joking?”
Holly did what she did best. She reviewed her notes.
Whenever she was around people, or demons, she watched. She also listened. A budding serial killer needed to observe her victims. To know their individual weaknesses.
And not just her victims. Her friends as well.
She’d watched Dem a lot. When It thought she was sleeping, she was actually listening to It. It would mutter and whisper.
It revealed such sweet, sweet secrets.
Secrets that she could use.
Holly used one such secret—a kernel of power—then.
She didn’t want to. She really didn’t. If she did, then It would expect her to keep her word. And Holly hated keeping her word.
Despised it.
But she also found Its groveling… quite annoying. Distracting.
She had no choice.
“Dem.”
The demon sniffled, looking up.
Jesus Halibut Christ. Tears were streaming down Its face. Opaque and glimmering, searing a trail into Its skin.
Holly restrained herself. If she hadn’t, she would have bashed Its head in with her shoe.
Not that it would have actually hurt It. Well. It would hurt.
But the demon could always regenerate.
She sighed.
“Dem, when we—if we find you a change of clothes, then… we could… possibly get something to eat.”
The demon wiped a tear away. Its fingertip absorbed it.
It blinked.
“L-like fast food?”
Holly let herself smile. It was a token of honesty. It represented her attempt at passing, playing the part.
She’d been forced to smile. At her old school. If she hadn’t, then they would have suspected something. Her cover would’ve been blown.
She liked it there.
Of course, she had to wear a uniform.
And hang out with a bunch of mouth breathers.
Not to mention all those nuns who were horrified—positively gutted—by the sight of bare knees.
But she enjoyed the part. How everyone else had liked her, had thought she was a perfect little student, a perfect little Christian. They treated her like a human being.
It made her feel… like someone else. Someone nicer. Someone who didn’t have the Need.
She’d always wanted to feel like a human being.
She hated being Holly. Holly was a monster in the making. Holly would be on the news someday, and her name would be accompanied by the caption:
SERIAL KILLER
That warm, squishy feeling didn’t last, though.
It’d ended.
Would this last?
Holly’s smile faltered. For just a second. A pang flared inside her chest, a little spark of doubt.
Of worry.
Of horror.
But then, she smiled wide.
“May-be.”
#evanthenerd83's storytime#holly and the demon#short story#creative writing#original writing#urban fantasy#dark comedy#horror comedy#crime fiction#supernatural fiction#august 2021
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LSM Lost Files #9: Love Foolish - Friendzone
"A–Ah... U–Unnie..."
Sana lifted her eyes from my crotch and gave me her adorable eye smile. I shuddered and closed my eyes as I felt her tongue snaking around my clit. I felt Jeongyeon's hands yanking my neck towards her, and she kissed my neck and jaw deliciously.
"M–Mh... H–Hang on... A–Ahn... A–Ah!" "Oh, Dubu... You're so hot..." whispered Jeongyeon.
Jeongyeon's hand crept to fondle my tits. I jolted as her fingers traced my nipples and pinched them gently. Shit. I couldn't keep this up any longer.
"J–Jeongyeon-unnie... S–Sh... Shit... A–Ahh...!"
I heard a nasty squelching sound, and realised that Sana was eating my pussy noisily. I felt my body tensing. I gripped the bed sheets tighter with both of my hands, as I felt electricity surging through my entire body.
"S–Sana-u–Unn–Unnie! A–Ah... I–I... I–I'm... F–F–Fuck.... I'm... C–Cum..."
Hearing this, Sana increased her intensity in devouring my pussy. Jeongyeon released my neck and stooped down, sucking my breasts. I couldn't hold it any longer. My climax was reaching. I was about to explode.
"U–Unnie... U–Un... A–Ah! A–A... Ahn... M–Mmhh... Aaa–AAHH!!!"
I came. I came hard. I gushed out like a firehose, spraying my pussy juice onto Sana's beautiful face. She closed her eyes and giggled as I kept spraying her face again and again, before slumping onto the bed, gasping for air.
"Fuck... You came so much..." said Jeongyeon, chuckling. "You did it again, Sha..."
Sana took a towel to wipe her face and giggled profusely.
"I still don't know why me giving someone oral sex always makes that someone explode like that..." she said. I sighed and closed my eyes. "Fuck, Unnie... That was crazy..." I uttered.
I felt Sana's weight joining my side on the bed, then I felt two hands reaching from both of my sides to fondle my breasts. I giggled. These unnies were wild!
"Ya... Unnie-deul..." I uttered exasperatedly. They giggled. "Gosh, Dubu... You're so thick... Yet so slim..." complimented Jeongyeon.
I chuckled. I loved spending time with all of my Twice members, but particularly with this couple. They had just entered a relationship back in January when we were in Australia, and somehow I had become their unofficial-official third wheel ever since. That was weird.
Since our SIXTEEN days, I was always close with Sana, her being extra flirtatious around me and shared my weird sense of humour. Since she got in a relationship with Jeongyeon, I started spending more time with the short-haired tomboy as well. I always felt like these two understood my humour the best, and I always felt safe around them.
To tell the truth... I didn't expect that my friendship with them would turn into a sexual one. I knew I had no romantic feelings towards them, or any of the Twice members for that matter, but somehow I didn't mind when they–mostly Sana–kissed or touched me... I could even say that I enjoyed it. I wanted it.
The thing is, I never considered myself lesbian, or a bisexual girl. I was a Christian, a devoted and active one, so I knew it was wrong. But... Out of my 19 years of living, I had never once fallen in love with a boy. I was never interested in dating, to be honest. Maybe I was too young, maybe I was too foolish, but I never had any relationship. I knew some boys were attracted to me back in school, I even knew some male idols were eyeing me after my debut, but... I never entertained the thought.
I chuckled silently. That was ironic. For someone who never entertained the thought of dating, here I was, laying naked on a bed in a hotel in Switzerland with two absolutely gorgeous girls, and I had just lost my virginity to them. And man... What a way to lose it. I sighed. Sana looked up and smiled.
"Did you enjoy it, Dubu? It was your first time, right?" asked Sana.
I smiled and nodded. I was being honest.
"Yes, Unnie... So much... Thank you..." I whispered. She scrunched her nose and kissed my lips. "Tell us anytime you want to do it, okay?" said Jeongyeon as she leaned in to kiss my cheek. "Ya..." I uttered tiredly.
The couple laughed and rested their heads on the pillow by my sides. I flung my eyes outside the window. I could see the rooftops of the old buildings surrounding our hotel in Bern, and I could see the Swiss Alps in the background... We were going to climb the mountains the day after. Switzerland was indeed beautiful, and I was glad that we got to spend some time in this beautiful country.
Sana placed her hand on my tits and started toying with my inverted nipple, trying to get it to perk up again. I giggled and slapped her arm off my tits, and she chuckled mischievously.
"Aaw... But I want more~" she sulked jokingly. Her girlfriend smirked. "Ya... Calm your horny ass down, Sha... She has a date, remember?" she said. Sana gasped. "Oh, that's right! Dubu's going on a date tonight!" she said. "Ya! Unnie! It's not a date!" I exclaimed in protest.
Even though I was protesting, I felt my face blushing. I was meeting a friend tonight, a boy, but it was definitely not a date. Not by a long shot.
"Really? But you're meeting a boy, right? Who's his name again...?" Sana asked, trying to remember. I sighed exasperatedly. "Unnie... It's Hyunwoo! Don't you remember him? He was a fellow trainee in our batch!" I said.
Sana stared at me quizzically, evidently not remembering his name. I chuckled. Of course Sana wouldn't remember him. Hyunwoo wasn't the most handsome nor the most talented trainee, and Sana was already busy eyeing Jeongyeon since the first day we entered the JYPE training room, so she must have overlooked him. But to me... Hyunwoo was a friend, a good friend.
He was from Seoul, and he joined JYPE in the same batch of trainees that included Sana, Momo, and I, among others back in 2012. Other than the girls that would eventually become Twice, I was closest to him.
Hyunwoo was always different. While his visuals definitely fit what it would take to be a K-pop idol, his voice wasn't. His voice was more... Operatic. He was a tenor. His voice was powerful, loud, and bold, more suitable for the musical theatre genres. I remembered JYP PD-nim commenting one time that he almost cried when he heard Hyunwoo singing a slow ballad, because it felt like he was listening to a moving national anthem. He was right.
While other trainees excel in dancing, Hyunwoo was more into musical instruments. I didn't remember any instrument that he wasn't able to play: Piano, guitar, drums, bass guitar, saxophone, trumpet, clarinet, harmonica... Whatever musical instrument you could think of, there was a huge chance that Hyunwoo would be able to play it like a pro. If he wasn't, then give him a week... And he'd be a master at it.
He was undoubtedly a musical genius, but... That was also why he didn't make it as a K-pop idol: He was a musical genius. He didn't fit into the K-pop world. While I went on to compete in SIXTEEN and eventually debuted with Twice in 2015, Hyunwoo couldn't fit into both Day6 and Stray Kids.
"Ya! It's Son Hyunwoo! Remember the boy with the tenor voice?" Jeongyeon said, telling her girlfriend. Sana ruffled her brow for a few seconds, then she gasped loudly as she remembered. "OOH! THE OPERA BOY! Yes I remember now!" she exclaimed.
Jeongyeon and I laughed. Sana nodded rapidly.
"Wah... I remember how good he was with any instrument! Unlucky his voice doesn't fit K-pop..." mused Sana. Jeongyeon nodded. "Yeah. He should be a classical singer instead... Or a composer. Didn't he leave JYPE last year?" Jeongyeon asked me. I nodded. "He did," I said. Sana gasped again. "Omo... I remember how much you cried when you came home that night after he told you!" she said.
I chuckled and nodded again. I did cry a lot that night last year. We were enjoying our success after 'Cheer Up' became a global hit, and one night after a performance in a music show, Hyunwoo called me and told me he wanted to meet if I have the time.
I immediately left to join him in a cafe, and there he told me that he was terminating his contract with the company. I tried discouraging him from doing so and telling him that he just needed to wait for a little longer and maybe he'd debut as a solo singer, but he said his decision was final. Hyunwoo was always like that: A little stubborn, but when he sets his mind on something, nothing and no one can change his mind.
"Where is he now? Are you still in contact with him?" Jeongyeon asked. "Yeah... We remained friends even after he left, and about a month after his departure, he told me that he had been accepted in a conservatory in Germany. He's a classical music major now!" I announced proudly. "Woah... That's so cool!" exclaimed Sana. Jeongyeon nodded in agreement. "That honestly suits him better, I think... He'll be successful in the classical music scene," Jeongyeon said.
I chuckled.
"You know... Even though he's a classical musician now, he's still into K-pop. He's a ONCE!" I said, smiling wide. Sana and Jeongyeon's eyes widened. "Really?" they exclaimed. "Mm! He has all of our albums from the first one to the latest one!" I said, feeling even prouder. "Hang on..."
Jeongyeon and I turned to look at Sana. She suddenly lifted a finger.
"You... You said he's in Germany now, right? Why is he here then?" she asked. I nodded. "Germany and Switzerland are close to each other, so... He took a train to visit me tonight!" I said happily. "That means you're still constantly in contact with him even after he moved from Korea to Germany, even with the time differences?" she asked again. I nodded again. "Y–Yeah... What's wrong?" I asked.
To my surprise, Sana and Jeongyeon were both smirking and eyeing me with a knowing look. I glared at them.
"What?" I asked them loudly. Sana giggled. "Ya... You sent him signed copies of our albums, didn't you?" she said while poking my belly.
I blushed. How did she know?
"And... He must have told you that you're his bias, right?" Jeongyeon asked. I gasped. "H–How did you know?" I asked her.
Jeongyeon and Sana giggled.
"Dubu-ya... He likes you!" Jeongyeon spelled it out. I scoffed and waved my hand. "Oh, come on, Unnie... We're just friends!" I said. Sana giggled again. "Dubu-yaaa... Stop being so naive... You might think that he's just a friend, but, come on... Constant contact even with the time differences, he's taking a train to visit you here from another country, and you're his bias? He likes you!" she said while grinning wide.
I felt my face blushing. Was he? I never thought of it that way. Sure, I always felt comfortable around him and I enjoyed talking and spending time with him, but... To me he's a good friend, a best friend... Probably like a brother. He couldn't, could he? I shook my head.
"No, no... Come on, Unnie... He's not like that!" I said, denying it.
Jeongyeon and Sana laughed. They both hugged me and kissed my cheeks.
"Okay, okay... Hey, it's past 5 pm. You wanna take shower and prepare yourself?" Jeongyeon said kindly. I nodded and smiled. "Yeah, I should do that..." I said, thankful that they decided not to pursue this topic any longer. "Should I join you~?" teased Sana. I glared at her. "YA! SANA UNNIE!" I exclaimed. Jeongyeon wheezed uncontrollably. "Go now, go!" she said, pushing me off the bed.
I giggled and walked to the bathroom. As I entered the bathroom, I heard Sana moaning a little, so she must be doing something with Jeongyeon again. I sighed. Gosh, those two were insatiable, weren't they?
I took a quick shower and dried myself, before wearing my most comfortable outfit to go out today. Bern was cold in April, as if it was winter, but I guessed it would happen for a city so close to the Alps.
Sana and Jeongyeon insisted on helping me make up, so I let her. As I sat on the makeup chair facing the mirror, letting and trusting the loving couple made me prettier, I saw that Sana stole multiple glances at me in the mirror, like she wanted to say something but was reluctant.
"What is it, Unnie?" I asked. She raised her eyebrows. "What is what?" she asked, playing dumb. "Oh come on. You kept looking at me in the mirror. Surely I can't be that gorgeous..." I teased her.
Sana laughed, but then she exchanged glances with Jeongyeon. Her girlfriend nodded, and Sana set her makeup brush on the table before hugging me gently from behind.
"Just... Don't break his heart, Dubu..." whispered Sana. I stared at her confusedly in the mirror. "What do you mean, Unnie?" I asked.
Sana pulled back and stared at me seriously.
"It's... I know you being kind to him is simply because you consider him a good friend, so you reply to his texts, you kept talking to him even after he moved to Germany, and you sent him signed copies of our albums... All because you value him as your friend. But... He might take it wrongly," Sana said.
I shook my head vehemently.
"N–No, Unnie... I don't think it's–" I started to deny her, but Jeongyeon grabbed my arm and smiled. "It's alright, Dubu... It's your right to not like him romantically, but we can't control what others are thinking or feeling about us. We're just telling you to be careful... Don't let your feelings for him–or lack thereof–make you lose a good friend," she explained. "Don't send him the wrong signals, is all we're saying, Dubu..." completed Sana. "If you don't like him romantically, you shouldn't keep giving him hope," said Jeongyeon.
I stared at them, still wanting to protest, but at that moment Sana was brushing my face again, so I closed my eyes and simply nodded. These two... Surely they couldn't be right. Hyunwoo wasn't like that. He was just a friend. A really good friend, but... Just a friend.
I finished getting ready. I glanced at the clock on the bedside table, and it was almost 6pm. I checked my phone, and saw a message from Hyunwoo. He told me he was close to our hotel. I beamed happily, and started walking out of the room, but Jeongyeon grabbed my shoulder.
"We'll walk you to the lobby. You know... Just to make sure that you're safe," she said.
I had no problems with that, so the three of us exited the bedroom, and we walked to the lift lobby. For some reason, my heart was thumping louder than usual.
It was more than a year since I last saw him back in Korea. I wondered what Hyunwoo looked like now. I wanted to know about his studies, I wanted to know if he had written any composition, but above all... I wanted to meet my friend again. I missed him.
The elevator came, and we entered. As the elevator took us down, Sana turned to look at me.
"Dubu..." "Hm?" "Are you sure you don't like him that way?" she asked again.
I groaned.
"Unnie..." I said exasperatedly, but she kept staring at me seriously. "Dubu, I'm serious. Are you sure you don't like Hyunwoo romantically?" she repeated herself.
I closed my eyes and sighed.
"Unnie... Out of my 19 years of life... I've never fallen for any boy, including Hyunwoo. He's a friend, a good friend... But... I'm sure that I don't love him that way. I know a lot of boys like me, even a few idols... But somehow... I... I'm never interested in dating. I've never considered any boys–"
"What about girls, then?" interjected Jeongyeon.
I turned to look at her. Her question caught me off guard, and she was staring at me. What was she implying?
"W–What?" I stuttered. "What about girls, Dubu? Have you... You know... Ever fallen for any girl?" she asked.
I felt my face blushing. I stole a glance at Sana and bit my lower lips.
"I–I... Well..." I stammered. "I... I don't know..." "You like Sana, don't you?" Jeongyeon asked directly with a smile.
Again, her question caught me off guard. I was flustered. I opened my mouth, trying to tell the truth that I didn't like her romantically, but Sana giggled and hugged me from the side.
"I like you too, Dubu..." she whispered naughtily.
Jeongyeon chuckled and ruffled my hair gently. I didn't know how to answer. In truth, I always found Sana beautiful, and I did just lose my virginity to her today, but... Even with her, I wasn't thinking of starting a relationship. Besides, she was already with Jeongyeon, and I knew they loved each other deeply. Again, I was sure that I didn't like Sana or Jeongyeon that way.
"I... I... Well... I like Sana-unnie... But... But–But I don't think I like her like you do, Unnie..." I finally answered Jeongyeon.
I was being honest, and Jeongyeon understood.
"I know... And I don't mind you two spending time together. I like you too, Dubu," she said, pecking my forehead. "Aww... We have our official adorable third wheel..." Sana cooed, hugging me tighter.
I laughed, but I nodded. I didn't mind being their third-wheel. The lift reached the lobby on the ground floor, and we stepped out to the lobby. As we walked, Sana hugged my arm and whispered to my ear, loud enough for Jeongyeon to hear.
"So... Are you saying that you're lesbian like Jeongie?" Sana asked me.
Honestly, I didn't know, so I answered as best as I could.
"I... Maybe. But... I'm still not sure," I said. "Or maybe pansexual like me? Or bisexual? Like Nabong and Tzu?" Sana pressed.
I shook my head.
"I... I'm still not sure, Unnie... I don't know..." I said slowly. The couple nodded. "It's alright. I took a long time to realise it myself," Jeongyeon said. Sana scrunched her nose at her girlfriend. "Way too long," she said.
Jeongyeon giggled and nodded, then she stopped walking and turned to stare at me. She reached to grab my hands, and her iconic kind smile rose on her face.
"Dubu... Take all the time you need... But be honest with yourself. In the meantime, don't send out the wrong signals. Don't break any hearts. At least that's what I did," she said seriously.
I took her words kindly and nodded. She was right, of course, but I didn't think that I was giving the wrong signal to Hyunwoo. As I said, we were just friends. Good friends. Still, it was wise advice from her side.
"I will, Unnie," I said with a smile. Jeongyeon squeezed my hands and kissed my forehead again. "Enjoy your night, Dubu. Say hi to Hyunwoo from me," she said. Sana hugged me tighter. "Enjoy your date, Dubu~" said Sana cutely, and she leaned in to kiss my cheek. I giggled and blushed, but I slapped her arm. "I told you it's not a date!" I complained.
She giggled mischievously before kissing my cheek again, but then she let me go and walked next to Jeongyeon.
"Be safe. We'll be waiting for you back here tonight," said Sana. I nodded and smiled. "Don't come home too late. Remember Jihyo set 10pm as our curfew," Jeongyeon warned. "I won't be late, Unnie!" I assured her.
At that moment I saw a naughty look on Sana's eyes. She leaned in closer to whisper to my ears.
"And I want to continue what we started just now..." she whispered, slipping her hand down to squeeze my butt.
I felt heat rushing to my face, and Sana giggled seeing me flustered. Seriously, this unnie! She kissed my cheek again before walking back to Jeongyeon's side, who sighed and shook her head.
"Forgive her, Dubu... She's like that..." she said tiredly.
Sana giggled and hugged her girlfriend's arm.
"Aw... But you love me, right?" she teased cutely. Jeongyeon giggled. "Dubu loves you too..." she said. Sana giggled in turn. "I love her too... But she said it herself that she doesn't love me like you do~" Sana cooed.
I chuckled and shook my head. Sana and Jeongyeon were always the cutest. I flung my eyes around the lobby, and that's when I saw him.
Son Hyunwoo. My old friend. He was standing by one of the sofas at the lobby lounge, just an earshot away from us. He was wearing a grey twill jacket over his khakis. He didn't change one bit, even his hairstyle was the same, almost covering his eyes. He was standing tall, standing straight... And he was staring at my direction.
I beamed from ear to ear and raised my arm, waving at him excitedly.
"Hyunwoo!" I called out excitedly.
He was already looking at me. He definitely saw me. I waved at Sana and Jeongyeon and walked quickly to meet him, but he was standing still. As I got closer to him, I realised that he wasn't smiling. He was...
He was frowning. He stood frozen in his place.
"Hyunwoo! Hi!"
I reached him, but when I spread my arms to hug him, instead of embracing me, he took a step back.
"Hyunwoo?" "D–Dahyunie... I..."
I raised an eyebrow as I stopped myself from hugging him. What was wrong? Why was he acting weird?
"What's wrong, Hyunwoo?" I asked him.
He didn't reply. He merely stared at me. I stared at his eyes, and that's when I noticed... Sadness? Disappointment?
"Hyunwoo... What's wrong?" I asked him again. "I–I... I'm sorry..." he whispered.
Then, he turned, and walked away.
I was shell shocked. I was confused. I looked at Sana and Jeongyeon, who both looked equally surprised and confused.
"Hyunwoo?"
I called out, but my friend was already walking towards the revolving door. Instinctively, I set out to chase him. What was wrong with him?
"Hyunwoo!"
I yelled, but he didn't care. He kept walking away, half running as he heard me calling his name. I ran after him.
"HYUNWOO! WAIT!"
Hyunwoo ran faster, but I kept chasing him, calling his name desperately. Tears started blurring my vision, but something made me keep running after him. What was wrong with him? Why did he run away? I chased him to a park across the hotel, where he eventually stopped, clutching his knees, gasping for air. I caught up with him.
"Hy–Hyunwoo... W–What... What happened?" I asked, panting for breath.
He straightened himself, but he avoided my gaze. He was starting to walk away again, but I held his arms strongly and stopped him from doing so. I glared at my friend, gripping his arms tightly, unwilling to let go.
"Son Hyunwoo... W–Why... Why did you run away?" I charged him.
He avoided my gaze, but I saw that his eyes were wet. I kept glaring at my friend. He kept avoiding my gaze, kept trying to push me away, and finally an anger burned inside my heart.
"TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED!"
My scream stopped his efforts to release himself from my grips. He stared at me. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. The only thing that came out of him were his tears, leaking from his eyes. I knew tears were leaking from my eyes too, but I didn't care. I kept staring at him.
"D–Dahyun... I..." he stuttered. "What is it?" I pressed him. "I... You love... You love Sana..." he whispered. "What?" I asked him, unable to comprehend his words. "You love Sana. You... You love Sana..." he repeated himself.
I stared at him confusedly, not fully understanding what he was saying. For a few seconds, I racked my brain, trying to make sense of his words... Until I finally got it. I heard a gasp leaving my mouth as my eyes widened. He must have heard my conversation with Sana and Jeongyeon.
"W–What? N–No! No, Hyunwoo! It's not like that! I–I... I..." I stuttered panickedly. "No, Dahyun... You... You love Sana. You love her. I'm sorry... I should have known," he said. "What are you talking about? Why are you sorry?" I asked him.
He took a deep breath and looked into my eyes. At that moment, I saw my old friend again. I saw his kind gaze, his small, unforgettable smile... But this smile I saw wasn't like the smiles I saw on his face back when we were trainees. This smile was sad... It was lonely. He took a deep breath and started talking.
"Dahyun... From the day I met you, I knew that you were special. Just everything about you made me want to be with you. Your eyes, your smile, your energy... I wanted to be a part of your world. When you started to talk to me, I felt like I was the happiest guy in the world. We became friends, yes... But... I always... I always..."
Tears were flowing fast down his face, his eyes were red and puffy, a sight I hadn't seen since our trainee days. My heart broke seeing him like this.
"I... I always wanted to be something more with you Dahyun... I wanted to be more than friends... I wanted to wake up to that smile everyday... I... I wanted... I still want..."
His eyes lifted off the ground and the look I saw on his face would forever stay engraved in my brain. He was hurt, I knew he was hurt. He looked like he was in so much pain.
"I wanted to be your lover, Dahyunie... I wanted to have you in my life forever..."
I gasped and covered my mouth with my hand... Did... Did he just confess to me?
"D–Do you remember that night back when we were trainees... When we secretly skipped our night training session to get hot chocolate together because it was so cold? That... That was the most magical night for me, Dahyunie... That night, I fell in love with you. I couldn't help it, you were so gorgeous that night... Those eyes, that smile..."
"E–Even after I left JYPE and went to Germany... I–I... I still couldn't forget you. I–I held my hopes up... And y–you were always kind to me too. Y–You always responded to my texts and calls... Y–You... Y–you made my lonely days in Germany feel bearable... Y–You..."
I felt my hands trembling. I felt tears blurring my vision. No. No. This was a nightmare. This must be a nightmare. This couldn't be true. I had given him the wrong signals. Just like what Sana and Jeongyeon told me. I was just too stubborn to listen to them.
"B-But I'm a fool... I–I'm a goddamn fool... I–I'm... I'm too greedy... I–I should have known..." he whispered, his voice cracking. He clenched his fist so hard it started shaking.
He scrunched his face up as his hands began to shake. He was trying to hold himself back. His breathing became broken and unsteady, with snuggles and sniffles filling in the intervals between his breaths.
"I–I should've known that... T–That there was no way that you'd feel the same about me... I should have known that y–y–you only love me as a friend... I–I should've never thought about us being together... I–I should've known that... That..."
He broke down into sobs, unable to control the emotions he was holding in him anymore. His body shook violently as the delicate façade he was keeping together smashed apart, like a porcelain masquerade mask.
"I–I should've known that you could never love me that way, Dahyunie... I should've known that you were i–into girls." "N–No... H–Hyunwoo... It's–"
He stretched a hand up and stopped me.
"It's alright, Dahyunie... Y–You love S-Sana... And she loves you... And that's alright... I–I'm... I'm happy for you..." "Wait, Hyunwoo... Please–" "It's okay, Dahyun... I get it."
His teary eyes met mine and for the first time in my life, I saw how it looked like to be broken. His eyes were dead, with pain taking the place of the kindness that was once constantly behind them as he gave me a sad smile. He gently took my hand and grasped it, lifting it up to our eye level.
"I hope that you can give her the same energy and happiness that you gave me Dahyun... Because that's what kept me going every single day up to now..."
I couldn't think of anything to stay, I just stood there, like an idiot. Words had left my mouth. I stared at him with a gaping mouth. I was pale to begin with, but I knew I was even paler that evening in Switzerland.
"I wish you all the happiness in the world with her, Dahyunie... You truly deserve it... Goodbye..." he whispered.
With that, he dropped my hand. With a final smile, he turned and walked away.
"H-Hyunwoo?" I called out.
He didn't stop and kept walking forward, away from me.
"H–Hyunwoo! P–Please!" I sobbed, but he kept walking.
I wanted to chase after him. I needed to chase after him. I needed to tell him that this was all a big misunderstanding. I willed myself to move, but my legs couldn't budge. I was glued to the ground.
I opened my mouth to call out to him again, but only a strangled cry came out. As his back faded away into the crowd of people, I sank down to my knees as I let my tears take over.
He was gone. My best friend was gone. He was out of my life.
And it was all because of me...
I continued sobbing uncontrollably in that park for what felt like forever. People walked past me, and I knew they were staring at me weirdly. I knew it was a weird sight. An Asian girl was sobbing in the middle of a park in Switzerland, but I didn't do anything. I couldn't do anything. I simply sobbed and screamed in that park at the top of my lungs.
"Dubu..."
I heard a gentle voice. I recognized that voice. I felt two pairs of hands reach me, then two sets of arms. They embraced me, hugged me tightly. I felt their warmth, and I cried my heart out on their shoulders.
"Dubu..." Sana whispered. "What happened?" asked Jeongyeon.
I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out. My heart was shattered, my brain numbed with pain. I couldn't speak, I couldn't think. The only thing I could think of were his last words to me.
I wish you all the happiness in the world with her, Dahyunie... You truly deserve it...
No I didn't.
I shattered his dreams. I destroyed his heart. I broke my best friend's heart. Sana and Jeongyeon warned me, but I didn't listen. I was naive. I was foolish. I was stubborn.
I was a terrible person. I destroyed someone's life. And that someone was my best friend.
I didn't deserve to live.
"Come on... Let's get you back inside..." uttered Jeongyeon.
Guilt. That was the only thing that reigned in my heart and mind that evening. I was guilty. Sana and Jeongyeon lifted my body from the ground and guided me to walk with them, but I didn't even know where we were going. I simply let my feet drag me, following their direction. I felt the revolving door turning in front of me.
"Dubu... Are you alright?" I heard Sana's concerned voice.
I stared at her, but I was staring blankly. Tears couldn't stop dripping from my eyes, but I didn't even try to stop it. I had lost my will. I had lost everything. I had just ruined someone's life because of my foolishness. Because of my stubbornness... And that someone was my best friend.
I didn't deserve to live.
"Excuse me, Miss?"
Someone approached us. It took me a long second to recognise her as one of the hotel staff... She was clutching something colourful, something that smelled fresh and wonderful... But to me it was sickening.
"Your... Friend, the one who just left... He... He left this on the table where he was sitting while waiting for you," she said. "Thank you. I'll take that," said Jeongyeon in English, receiving the colourful thing from the staff. "You're welcomed..." the hotel staff replied, and I knew she was eyeing me concernedly.
Sana shook her head, and she bowed and left us. Jeongyeon squeezed my hand gently, and I turned to look at her. She gestured down to her arms, and I looked down.
It was a bouquet of flowers.
The most beautiful bouquet I've ever seen, and it contained my favourite Primrose.
He brought a bouquet of flowers for me... My favourite flowers.
"Oh no..." I heard Sana whispering.
They understood.
I noticed a small card at the side of the bouquet. Somehow, I wanted to read it. With trembling hands, I pulled it off the string and read it. I felt Jeongyeon and Sana leaning in to read the card too.
To: Dahyunie.
Pour vous, Mademoiselle.
I hope these flowers give you as much happiness as you give me, cause you deserve it :).
<3 Hyunwoo
No I don't.
I didn't deserve happiness.
I didn't deserve to live.
"Let's get you back to the room," Sana suggested. Jeongyeon agreed and they slowly guided me to the elevator.
I didn't deserve happiness. I didn't deserve to live.
We stepped in.
I didn't deserve to live. I didn't deserve to live. I didn't deserve to live.
The elevator began to ascend.
I didn't deserve to live. I didn't deserve to live. I didn't deserve to live. I didn't deserve to live.
We reached our floor.
I DON'T DESERVE TO LIVE.
We walked out.
I DON'T DESERVE TO LIVE. I DON'T DESERVE TO LIVE.
We turned down the hall.
I DON'T DESERVE TO LIVE. I DON'T DESERVE TO LIVE. I DON'T DESERVE TO LIVE.
We reached our door and Sana unlocked it.
I DON'T DESERVE TO LIVE. I DON'T DESERVE TO LIVE. I DON'T DESERVE TO LIVE. I DON'T DESERVE TO LIVE.
Something snapped inside me. As soon as the door opened, I walked towards the balcony, dropping the bouquet on the floor.
"Dub–" "Let her, Jeongie... She needs fresh air..."
I slid open the door and walked out, the cold air slapping me in the face, giving me the sting I deserved. Switzerland was a beautiful place... And the golden sunset was perfect. I couldn't pick a better place to end this.
I looked over the edge of the railings. We were on the 15th floor. It would be a long and quick drop. I wouldn't feel anything. It would end in an instant.
"Oh shit... Dubu! JEONGIE! STOP HER!!!"
Just as I was about to lean right over the edge, Sana and Jeongyeon grabbed me and easily overpowered me, tackling me to the floor.
"LET ME GO! I DESERVE TO DIE!" I screamed as they restrained me to the floor. "Dubu... Please stop!" Sana pleaded.
She was crying, her arms were trembling, but she was surprisingly strong.
"LET ME GO!" "Hold her down, Sha!" "What are you—"
SMACK
"KIM DAHYUN! SNAP OUT OF IT!" Jeongyeon yelled after she gave me one of the hardest slaps I've ever received, even harder than my Eomma slapping me when I swore.
Her hand whizzed by and smacked me across the face again. It hurted. But it was exactly what I needed.
"Whatever your pain is... Killing yourself ends your pain, but it brings pain to the others around you! Think, Dubu! Think!"
Her words hit me hard, harder than her slaps. It snapped me back to my senses.
She was right, countless hearts around the world would be broken if I took my life. ONCEs around the world would be devastated... My sisters in Twice would be devastated. My parents and family would be crushed. All of my friends' lives would be affected...
Including Hyunwoo's.
I didn't want him to experience yet another heartbreak... I didn't want him to have to go through another heartbreak because of me.
"Tell us what happened, please..." sobbed Sana softly.
I stared at her, and finally, my ability to speak returned. I took a deep breath, trying to stop my tears before I started speaking, but they kept falling down. I decided to just talk.
"I–I... He... He confessed to me. He said he wanted to be more than friends, he... He said he always loved me more than just friends, just like you said... But–But... But he heard what we said earlier... That... That we loved each other, and... And... And he took it wrongly... He... He thought... He thought..." I babbled, before trailing off.
I started sobbing again, then I screamed and bawled my eyes out. I kept shrieking, as pain and devastation filled my heart. Sana reached to hug me tightly, and I hugged her, clinging to her arms for dear life. Jeongyeon knelt and hugged me too, and I felt her hands rubbing my hair.
"Dubu..." she whispered gently. "I–I'm... I–I'm... I'm... I'm sorry, Unnie... I... I'm an idiot!" I sobbed. "Dubu, it's not your fault..." Sana started, but I shook my head. "It's... It–It is, Unnie... I–I... L–Like you said... I... I sent out the wrong signals... And... And he... He took it wrongly... He..." "Shh... Just... Just cry, Dubu... It's alright," said Jeongyeon.
I nodded. That was all I could do anyway. I could only sob bitterly, screaming in agony. I felt so guilty, so stupid. To their credit, Sana and Jeongyeon didn't say anything. They only hugged me on that balcony in our hotel in Switzerland, giving me the time and space I needed to calm down. Their warmth filled my heart. It took a long time... But slowly but surely, my breathing came back to normal... And eventually, my tears stopped falling.
I pulled back gently, and I stared at the couple, noticing that they were both crying too. Sana squeezed my hands tightly, while Jeongyeon stared at me with her sharp yet kind eyes. She grabbed my shoulder and smiled.
"Tell me the truth, Dubu... Do you like him romantically?" asked Jeongyeon kindly.
I thought hard for a moment, but then I shook my head slowly. I cried because I had broken my best friend's heart, but even after everything that happened, I knew for sure that I had no romantic feelings for him.
"No... No, Unnie. I love him as my best friend... And–And... And now he's gone... Because... Because... Because I was just too naive..." I sniffled, but Jeongyeon squeezed my hand and shook her head.
"No, Dubu. It's not your fault that you don't love him that way. You can friendzone anyone, and it still doesn't make you wrong. The only mistake you made was that you sent the wrong signals, but it was his decision to assume that you're with Sana based on one sentence that he overheard, and to then react so dramatically about it," she said seriously.
I stared at her. What she said made sense, but I still felt bad. I still felt like the mistake I made had ruined his life. Sana reached to hug me again, rubbing my hair.
"It's alright, Dubu... People make mistakes. All we can do is to learn from it..." Sana whispered.
Her words rang true in my mind. Slowly, I started to accept it. Slowly, I nodded.
"Y–You're right, Unnie..." I whispered.
Jeongyeon sighed and threw her head back.
"Fuck. You scared me to death, Dubu! I thought for sure we were about to lose you!" she sighed.
I chuckled ironically. I reached to grab her hand and squeezed it.
"Sorry, Unnie..." I whispered, but she smiled and shook her head. "Don't be. I'm glad you're safe..." she said.
I sighed and beckoned her to join Sana in hugging me. She gladly did so, and the three of us hugged each other in a group hug. These two had just saved my life, and I would forever be indebted to them.
"Thank you, Unnie-deul... For saving my life..." I uttered.
I felt them nodding, Sana kissing my forehead, while Jeongyeon snuggled close to me, giving me the warmth I needed. At that moment we heard a knock on the door.
"Shaaa... Jeongiee... Stop fucking each other and let's eat!"
That was Nayeon-unnie's voice. A chuckle left my mouth, surprising even myself. Sana giggled and helped me to my feet. We entered back into the bedroom, and Jeongyeon walked to the door and opened it, revealing Nayeon together with Jihyo, Momo, Mina, Chaeyoung, and Tzuyu.
Somehow... Seeing their faces made me smile.
"Come on, let's... Wait, what? Dubu?" Nayeon gasped as she saw me. "Eh? Weren't you supposed to be off with your friend? asked Mina confusedly. "I thought you're meeting Hyunwoo?" asked Jihyo, looking very confused.
I thought for a moment. I didn't want to tell them what happened between me and Hyunwoo, and surely I didn't want to tell them that I had just attempted suicide. But... What could I say? As I was about to open my mouth and tell them the truth, Sana hugged my shoulder tighter and waved her hand.
"Nah... That boy. He cancelled the appointment because he had something else to do and couldn't take the train..." she said while looking at me. "Some other time, maybe, Dubu..." said Jeongyeon, completing what her girlfriend said.
I smiled and nodded my silent thanks to them. Jeongyeon smiled knowingly, while Sana winked at me secretly. I heard Momo-unnie sighing.
"Tsk... Boys..." she uttered. Nayeon giggled and looked at Tzuyu. "That's why you shouldn't give your heart out to boys that easily, Tzu... They'll disappoint you. Might as well give it to me~" she teased naughtily. "Unnie~" whined Tzuyu, but she smiled her gorgeous dimpled-smile.
The girls laughed, and I laughed too. Jihyo sighed as she looked at me, undoubtedly noticing my red and swollen eyes. She walked over towards me and cupped my cheeks in her hands.
"Gosh... Don't be sad, Dubu... You'll meet him again one day," our leader said kindly.
She must have thought I was crying because I didn't get to meet Hyunwoo again. That would do. I would let what happened today be a secret I shared only with Jeongyeon and Sana. I nodded and smiled.
"Yeah. Thanks, Unnie..." I uttered.
I noticed that Mina saw the bouquet that was on the floor, but she didn't say anything. She only smiled kindly and approached me. The other girls started approaching me too and hugging me, comforting me. Chaeyoung in particular hugged me tightly, and she leaned in to whisper to my ears.
"I understand you, Unnie... I'm missing someone too..." she whispered.
I didn't understand what she meant, but I hugged the petite rapper anyway. I felt eight pairs of hands hugging me, stroking my hair, patting my back... And finally I smiled fully. These were my sisters. This was my safe place. When I was with them... I shouldn't worry.
I knew they accepted me. I knew they'd forgive any mistakes I had made, or would make in the future. I knew I was loved. If not for anything else, at least because of them... I knew life was worth a living.
* * *
"Right. We still have around an hour and a half before boarding time... So... If you guys wanna look around first, you are free to do so!" quipped Minsoo cheerfully. "Just don't be late to the gate, okay? Remember, our boarding time is 11.55am, and our gate is 16A," added Jihyo.
The girls nodded. We took our passports and boarding passes from Minsoo before dispersing, each going our separate directions. Changi Airport offered many different sights and shops to see, and I knew the girls wanted to check them out. Under normal circumstances, we would all explore together, but after what happened last night at MAMA... Things were a little different.
Tzuyu silently walked away alone, leaving the still distraught looking Nayeon behind, but Chaeyoung caught up with her. Momo approached Nayeon and grabbed her arm, getting her to walk with her, while Jihyo and Minsoo left on their own. Mina had already left on her own.
I was walking with Sana and Jeongyeon, as per usual, but we were silent. I noticed Sana and Jeongyeon exchanging awkward glances at each other, both trying to talk to me. I sighed and kept waddling slowly beside them, still struggling to walk properly after what Ansel did to me last night.
"Dubu... I... We're going to get some coffee at Starbucks. Do you want to join us?" asked Jeongyeon.
I nodded silently, unable to smile. Sana looked at me concernedly, and soon I felt her hugging my arms.
"Dubu... I'm sorry if we were too harsh on you this morning," she uttered slowly. "N–No... It's alright, Unnie... I should have listened to you," I said.
I really should have. When I woke up this morning, finding Ansel still sleeping, somehow I felt dirty. Maybe it was the fact that the alcohol was gone from my system, unlike last night when I was under heavy influence of it... But I really felt like I was doing something wrong. I quickly got dressed and left the room, not even saying goodbye to Ansel.
As I walked up to the lift lobby, I felt unhappy. I had just had an explosive sexual intercourse with one of the most good looking boys around, with one of the biggest dicks I had ever seen, but somehow I didn't feel satisfied. I felt dirty, I felt used. I felt like I had made a mistake.
My fears were amplified by the fact that Sana and Jeongyeon were livid when they saw me returning to our suite. In fact, I had never seen Sana that angry before. She was practically yelling at me, telling me how stupid I was for falling into Ansel's charms and letting him... Well... Did what he did to me last night.
At first, I was offended, because I thought Sana and Jeongyeon were just being over-protective and obsessive towards me, but right before I started my rebuttal, Jeongyeon told me that Ansel was already in a relationship with Mina a couple days ago, so what he did last night was straight-up unfaithful, and I allowed him to use me for his lustful desires.
I immediately felt really bad. I panicked. I felt like I had made the biggest mistake of my life, probably the biggest since what happened with Hyunwoo back in Switzerland ten years ago. I cried helplessly and wanted to apologise to Mina straightaway, but Sana and Jeongyeon told me not to do it, because it would definitely break her heart. Knowing how delicate Mina was, I eventually agreed to them.
Still, I felt bad. I felt really bad. I knew I wasn't angry at Sana and Jeongyeon. They were right to be furious at me and at Ansel. They apologised straightaway and hugged me lovingly after their anger subsided, and I did forgive them, but still... I felt really bad.
Sana and Jeongyeon stepped into Starbucks in Terminal 3, but somehow I held my steps.
"Unnie-deul..."
The couple turned and looked at me.
"What is it, Dubu?" asked Jeongyeon. "I... I think I'll walk around on my own. I wanna check Jewel," I said, pointing towards the direction of the shopping mall. "You sure? We can go there together if you want," offered Sana, but I shook my head. "N–No... It's alright. I... I need some alone time to clear my head," I said honestly.
Sana looked like she wanted to protest, but Jeongyeon held her girlfriend's arm. She understood. I nodded my thanks to her.
"I'll see you at the gate, Dubu. Be safe," said Jeongyeon.
I nodded and left them. I walked slowly towards the bridge connecting Terminal 3 and Jewel. My mind wandered far away, and my heart was heavy.
Somehow, my mind recalled what happened ten years ago in Switzerland. After what happened that evening, I tried contacting Hyunwoo again, hoping that somehow I could still win my best friend back, but he never answered my texts or calls. I kept trying, but I kept failing. It was as if he disappeared from the face of the earth after leaving me in that park that day.
Slowly, eventually, I moved on. I forgot about Hyunwoo, and instead focused myself on my career. I achieved greatness with Twice, and as we became older, I started landing a lot of jobs hosting variety shows as well. I became a permanent member of Running Man, and soon I even got my own variety show to host on TVN.
My friendship with the other Twice members was strengthened, tried and tested by our shared hardships. Naturally, I became closer to Sana and Jeongyeon as well. Sure, I was their third wheel, but I enjoyed it. I knew those two loved me deeply, and they cared for me and guided me with their wisdom and kindness along the way. Sana even offered me to join the IPG, but I decided not to, at least for the moment.
Still, I was never interested in a relationship, both with men or women. I enjoyed my life as an idol and celebrity, I wanted to pursue my career, and I enjoyed my life. Never once did that nightmare in Switzerland ever haunted me again these past ten years.
And then... There was last night. Why did I have to fall into Ansel's traps like that?
"Fuck, Dubu... Pull yourself together!" I scolded myself silently.
I reached Jewel, watching in awe the giant waterfall in the middle of the mall. I spent a few minutes simply staring at the marvelous sight, before walking aimlessly around the malls, starting to enjoy my time alone.
But still... I felt uneasy. How could I ever see Mina again in the eyes without feeling guilty? If they were together, I would naturally meet Ansel more often. What would happen then?
Remorse started filling my heart again. I shook my head and sighed as I walked further into the mall, and the neon sign of a bar caught my attention. It looked cozy, and the array of bottles behind the bar was inviting.
"I need a drink..." I decided.
I stepped in and walked to a barstool. I ordered my drink, and the bartender provided me with a bowl of peanuts before leaving to make my drink. As I popped some of the nuts into my mouth, I flung my eyes around this small bar. Everyone seemed like they were busy with themselves. That was good. I needed this time to collect my thoughts too.
My eyes stumbled upon a figure sitting at the bar, a few chairs away from me. It was a man, a young man, probably around my age and Minsoo's. He was sitting alone, wearing a black sweater jacket over his khakis. As he lifted his face, I felt my heart stop beating.
I knew that man.
He sipped his drink and flung his eyes around the room... And he saw me. His eyes widened as he recognized me.
"Dahyunie?"
I had not seen him in ten years. Not since he left me in that park in Switzerland.
"H–Hyunwoo?"
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G/t Drabble (Crash landed on a hostile planet trope but NOT via the a tiny vulnerable human in a planet of mean powerful alien bigs route)
tw: a bit of censored cursing. Uh. I’m not sure what else. Maybe broaching of sensitive tops such as sexuality and religion. But not really. Mostly it’s just rlly dumb word play/lame humor and a confused alien being confused (and kinda freaked/troubled due to the confusion? you’ll see if you read it i guess). there is some sad lorg boi times. idk. no romantic relationships. just a shaky friendship is forming between a crash-landed big-arse alien (a human! *gasp* i woulda never guessed something as vile as that o: ) and one of the much smaller, very much not human locals. most want to kill the poor dude who got stuck on this planet of hostile lil guys who think he’s a monster and immediately decide they much off him asap. so like having this one ally is kinda important to him. But it’s hard. because. lots reasons rlly. culture differences. the language tech can only do so much. the size diff creates definite issues because trust is hard in general. and trusting a big being that could easily cause havoc on your planet mostly just cuz he /seems/ nice is not a very good foundation... there is much to learn between the two before they can be truly good frens. so uh good luck to them lol *raises glass* I mean. I don’t think I’ll ever write these two again. but I’m sure they’ll end up good friends. probably.
Anyway without further adieu, here have a disappointment (read: attempt to be creative but i’m kinda lazy tbh and still kinda bitter I can’t draw for more than like 10 minutes before I start spacing out :/ )
"We are called humans or the scientific name is homo sapiens" spoke the large alien, Lyle.
"Homo sapiens? That is rather long, is it not? Why is a "scientific name" even a thing? Why would that be necessary? Scientific name versus what kinda name? Emotional name? Why are these science names two words? Seems annoying. What is wrong with just calling yourselves simply homos? Or something else just as nice and concise. Straight to the point if you will. Probably. I... Uh.. I obviously don't know what exactly is the purpose of a scientific name as i already implied... Sooo..." The much shorter – and much scalier- native being (called Torrynts) awkwardly looked off the side to stare at the plain, blank, siding of their dilapidated, isolated house as if it were the most interesting thing in the entire vicinity. Which it wasn’t of course. There was a f***ing alien 15 times their size only a few them-sized lengths way…
Lyle gave his new comrade – and only friend on this gawdforsaken planet that mostly wants him dead- th pondering, and possibly ironically, rather colourfully scaled Torrynt by the name of Kyvlar a bemused look, bordering on coy.
"Huh. 'Straight' to the point you say?" He paused with a small snort. "Well, my not-so-statuesque friend, do I got news for you~"
Kyvlar suddenly blanched, giving a Lyle a look that was like a knife to the heart while blurting out. "Wait, wait, wait! Hold up! We? There are more than one of you? Here? On this planet? Were you just a distraction the whole time. Oh... Oh no.... Have we really been victim a secret homo invasion this whole time! I-"
Their panicked monologue was interrupted by a most horrendous noise. Like a slowly dying tornado with the hiccups or something.
"STOP. Stop I-I can't. I can't. This is too much much!" Spoke Lyle with his hand covering the bottom half of his and his eyes scrunched shut.
'Welp,' thought the Torrynt, 'This is the end. This is when I die. I should have known better than to immediately put my trust in such an enormous obviously dangerous specimen. Ho-'
Kyvlar’s dramatic internal speech was interrupted when the alien surprised them by uncovering the his face, revealing a huge grin. ‘They weren't upset? Huh?’ The Torrynt blinked owlishly at the human in confusion.
"Sh*t, bite-size (Kyvlar noticeably paled at the impromptu nickname not 100% the foreign joking tone, well it would have been noticeable to someone their size at least), I know you don't mean to, context-wise, but you reminded me of my great aunt Karen when my Uncle Todd and Uncle Copper decide to have their friends over along with relatives for a gatherin'."
Plastering on a faux distraught look and blatantly mocking tone, he continue with exaggerated hand gestures. "Oh no, it's the...the...," he paused with snort, "... the homo invasion... No, no, no... Not here... not in this... this good, Christian neighborhood. Aren't just two of them enough? Oh woe is me!" The alien dropped the mocking tone and smirked towards the smaller being. "Heh. Good ol' great aunt Karen could never remember Uncle Todd was Jewish and so was the majority of that neighborhood.... It’s where my Uncle Todd was raised actually…"
The said smaller being just stared blankly at the homo-no-human they supposed as just “homo” meant something else, they weren’t sure what else, beyond just something else.
"Uhhm. Wh-what? U-Uhm, so what exactly is “homo” then? And what’s Christian? And Jewish too. What’s that? Are... Are those other types of -uh- intelligent, sentient creatures on your planet? Y-you know, b-beside hom-er-h-humans? Or are these subtypes of humans? What kinda are you? What is a great aunt? or Uncle? Does the great indicate a larger size? Oh gawd, a-aren't you humans b-big enough regularly? Oh... W-wait. O-or are you a great- uhm- great aunt, was it? E-er, g-great something? Ohhh. Zyntall (Torrynt swear). I'm sooo confused r-right now... " The timid tiny being, sighed in frustration before their eyes snapped open wide in a panic, and they did an immediate one-eighty with their behavior, and it was off all their previously trust, as wavering as it was, vanished in an instant, squeaking out a quick "sorry. oh, Z-zyntall... I'm so-so-sooo sorry. I-I hope I d-didn't offend y-you or anyth-thing... p-please, oh please, don't hurt me" while gazing everywhere except towards the much larger alien, hoping desperately the 'bite-size' nickname was just a bad joke...
Clearly they not only didn't get what so hilarious about the whole thing but also thought he was a monster prone to violence – still. Lyle sighed, all the mirth that was previously in his expression draining out of him leaving him with an uncomfortable grimace on their face. How disappointing... They really wish there was another human here to share in the jesting. But alas, that was not meant to be. At least as far as they knew there was no "homo invasion" in the making. Lyle wasn’t naïve. He knew humans were easy to slip into a gray moral state, at best. The role of villains at worst. And many of his kind would likely take advantage of a planet full of tiny, vulnerable people. Lyle couldn’t help but inwardly cringe at the thought, getting nervous about something that wasn’t an issue. At least now. Currently, human-wise, it was just him on this distant planet. And as far as he knew, no one - well, no other human at least- had any clue where they were. It probably just seemed he simply disappeared. Never to be seen again most likely. Trapped on this random alien planet in scenario that is akin to some sort of a personal hell of sorts.
'Wow. Hello, major depressive episode that’s making me overly dramatic. I haven't seen you since I was - what - eighteen?' thought Lyle regretfully. Calling this planet a personal hell was probably a bit over the top. But still, he couldn’t even seem to keep the trust of his single native ally. It only adds to his feelings of lonely isolation. And he feared his lonely angst will only get worse and worse. But only time will tell.
Giving a small sigh, he mentally prepped himself to try and get back his small friend’s trust. At least he was able to laugh for a wee bit earlier. It had been so long since he had done such. It was nice. Hopefully next time it will not lead to a backtracking in his attempted friendly ships with an open local, or even worse, a hostile local. The little laser guns that native being had stung like a b*tch. It reminded him when he got bit a couple times by some fire ants during a vacation as a child.
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So yeah these were rando improvised characters made on the spot.
But Lyle is a guy (he/him. He’d be chill with they/them too)
And Kyvlar is… a Torrynt. So like they/them I guess. Torrynts don’t have genders. Like at all. I guess they hermaphroditic (intersex if talking by human terms but not really as they are capable of reproduction and they aren’t human so… I dunno… Not even sure if hermaphrodite is a useful term. As idk if hermaphroditic animals, in nature, are capable of reproduction… I don’t think so? But I’m not sure tbh…). There is no variants like there are with human “sex”. And male/female concepts are 200+% foreign to these wee reptile-like aliens (albeit warm-blooded minded, so perhaps more draconian than reptilian idk. Also aliens being described as reptilian gives me hives due to a conspiracy theory that is like super bigoted actually n’ stuff. Very yikes. Don’t want to talk it about it rlly…). Their reaction would def be “wtf. That’s the weirdest sh*t ever” to such a thought as male n female binary dynamics & whatnot. No exceptions. They’d be like why a lot of you guys limiting yourself because of whether or not you are a potential offspring vessel or not. I don’t understand.
So Yeah. Uh. Anyways.
Their conversation about this prolly (or close to this):
Lyle: Hi. I’m Lyle. Just some random dude form Earth I guess.
Kyvlar: a random dude what?
Lyle: uh. I’m a dude. I guess I meant that I’m a boy though dudes don’t really have to be boys I think. But not to derail too much… Yeah. I’m a man/guy/boy/brosef, whatever you wanna call the male gender. Please not by brosef actually, heh. Anyway. Yep. A boy. That is what I am. Uh. How about you. I can just tell… you ….you have uhm two legs. Oh damn. Wait. That sounded so stupid. I wouldn’t assume your gender or anything. I just… You don’t look exactly human so..uh. UGH. Nevermind. I don’t even know where I was going with that... Heh. ANYWAY, so yeah what’s your gender is what I’m trying to say. Sorry I’m awkward as f***. I’m not used to socializing much. Been doing deep space sh** on my own for a few years now and.. uh.. yeahhhh….
Kyvlar: *stares blankly*
Lyle: Uh. Yeah. So. A Gender? Do you, uhm, have one? Or…????
Kyvlar: Uh. I think so? I mean I’m mostly a day-by-day I’ll figure it out then type but I, I really want be able to fix my home up. I want to learn to cook. Kinda suck at it now. Uhm. I guess… Uh. I should probably help you get on good terms with my people so they stop trying to kill you. You seem nice n’ stuff… so yeah. There’s that. I could use a little more purpose in my life. Not to-
Lyle: wait. Huh? What are you talking about? Are you talking about an agenda?
Kyvlar: Yes????
Lyle: *snorts* I didn’t say an agenda. I said a gender. As in A. Gen. Durr. Like are male or female or maybe something off the typical binary track??
Kyvlar: Uh. Er. Huh??? I, I’m so confused right now…
Lyle: Hooo boy. I’m so not prepared for this discussion at all.
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One of these days I’m gonna have a character that’s silver-tongue and smooth af and not some bumbling awkward doofus (*cough* like I am *cough*).
#g/t#g/t writing#i think this is sfw#i don't know why it wouldn't be#giant/tiny#giant dude#but he's really a human#it's like the crash landed on a hostile planet g/t trope#but the crash landed is a human#and he is the BIG#and the tinies are a bunch of hostile aliens#except for one#and they aren't really tiny#they are technically normal I think#i mean it is their turf yknow?#the tiny alien in this drabble is non-binary I guess#or maybe agender would be a better term?#the tiny aliens have no gender#or rather they have one gender#so it basically is means little to them identity to wise#like how humans are humans and thus that doesn't honestly say much about them.#except gender means even less to these aliens than that#not in a offensive way#in a they have no knowledge of gendered creatures so the concept of gender is very new to them#actually it's a non-issue to most of them because they don't give a shit about Lyle at all#oh your a guy#we don't care just die already#poor dude#he just wants a friend#but's awkward
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Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 6 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega
a/n: hi hello hey. how did this happen? I actually wrote this way quicker than I expected. thank u so much for ur patience during the rewrites fam, hopefully i won’t have to do any more!!!! so so so hope u like the new chapter :)))))
fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.
And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.
***
11th October 2020
As it turns out, Vanessa meets Monique and Akeria for lunch earlier than she’d expected. Okay, it’s at her flat instead of a cafe and it’s dinner instead of lunch, the three of them all easily agreeing to go back to Vanessa’s after the pro dance rehearsal on Sunday evening. Akeria had wanted to go to The Ivy but Vanessa had decided to make pernil in the slow cooker that morning after a facetime with her Tia had made her particularly homesick, and there was enough for the three of them anyway. Monique had been glad of the fact that they would be safe from any rogue journalists at Vanessa’s, and Vanessa had laughed and objected to the idea that any journalists would be interested in what was going on in their lives anyway.
Then again, that hadn’t appeared to be the case last year when everything kicked off with-
“V!” Akeria shouts over to her and interrupts her from the dreamlike state in which she’s fluffing up the rice. “You got any more wine?”
Vanessa laughs at her friend as she tips the pan over three bowls consecutively. “You’re rehearsin’ tomorrow morning, calm the fuck down.”
“Aw, let a bitch live! I did good last night, I deserve to celebrate.”
Vanessa thinks about how Akeria ended up fourth on the leaderboard with Asia and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, rub it in, girl. It’s fourth place, not Vicks.”
“Stop bein’ salty,” Akeria scolds her as Vanessa carries their dinner over to the huge sofa they’ve chosen to sit on instead of her tiny dining table. “You had a couple bum weeks, so what? This week’ll be the one.”
Vanessa wants to point out that it was really only one bum week and the other she was undermarked for, but she doesn’t. She lets it drop and instead turns her attention to Monique. “Right, bitch, let’s break bread and spill tea. What’s goin’ on?”
As Monique lets out a heavy sigh while she stabs at her food, Akeria claps her hands together and threatens to spill her dinner. “Yes! Thank God you said it, ‘cause I didn’t want to seem rude, but that’s the reason we’re all here, right?”
“God, I beg you both shut up,” Monique groans. “Okay so…me and Monet. You know we did that Waltz, right? And it was very…romantic, very intense.”
Vanessa and Akeria bob their heads like nodding dogs in response. Monique gives another heavy sigh and Vanessa is on the edge of her seat. “Well, it was like…our last full run before we finished up on Thursday. An’ we were both very much like…well, final run, let’s just give it all our energy. And it just got so intense, like, all the eye contact and the moments where we were all like…close, the bit where she picks me up and spins me-”
“Oh my God…did you kiss?” Akeria blurts out excitedly. Monique rubs both her temples with her hands.
“Akeria,” she raises her eyebrows. “We had sex.”
Vanessa lets out a scream. Akeria almost spills the entire bowl of pernil over herself as she reacts, waving her arms about so much Vanessa thinks she might give herself whiplash. “Sorry, sorry, sorry…WHAT?!”
“You cannot tell a single fucking soul on God’s green earth!” Monique groans, and Vanessa still isn’t sure if she’s over the information she’s just been given.
“HOW?!” Vanessa screeches out, ignoring Monique’s plea but promising her internally.
“It was my own damn fault-”
“FAULT?! How is this in any way a negative situation?” Akeria teases her friend with a shit-eating grin on her face.
Monique pouts in self-pity as she carries on with her sentence. “I kissed her. At the very end. I just got so caught up in everything, Jesus, I don’t know.”
“Tell me it was like the musical where there’s all the fuckin’ horn section and everything goin’ off in the background,” Vanessa butts in, remembering when she saw The Bodyguard on the West End last year. Monique knows the exact bit in I Have Nothing she’s talking about, because she nods her head.
“It was exactly that part.”
Vanessa lets out a cry identical to Akeria’s. She’s picturing the scene in her head and it sounds like the most romantic kiss that’s ever happened to anyone outside of a fictional setting. “M’nique, that’s adorable, oh my God.”
“What happened after? Well, she obviously liked it,” Akeria shrugs, and Vanessa splutters a laugh. Monique looks vaguely like a babysitter that has to deal with a pair of five year old twins.
“She just kissed me back before I could even break away out of fuckin’ embarrassment. She was just holding me and kissing me for what seemed like ages…and then when I had to get air I was panicking and apologising and she…oh my God. She asked me if she could take me home.”
Akeria raises her eyebrows. “Damn. I have got flutters.”
“So you went back to hers? OH my God. You’ve been to Monet X Change’s house,” Vanessa gasps, impressed. Akeria gives a snort of disbelief, turns to look at her.
“She’s been inside her fuckin’ pussy, never mind her house!!”
They both howl, and Monique rolls her eyes before apparently admitting to herself that what Akeria had said was funny after all and giggling.
Akeria leans forward with intrigue. “And did you…have a nice time?”
Monique now can’t wipe the smile off her face as she puts both hands to her cheeks, an attempt to cover her blush. “Yes. We both did. It was a very nice time.”
“So what’s the problem?” Akeria asks her, blasé and black and white as ever. Monique gives a sigh of exasperation.
“Because we’ve not…spoken about it, we’ve not addressed it!”
“It didn’t seem awkward last night, you did a great job!” Vanessa frowns, spearing a chunk of pulled pork. Monique lets out a tiny helpless whine.
“Yeah, that’s because…” she begins, then trails off. Vanessa knows what she’s going to say already, but Monique finishes her sentence before she can properly connect the dots. “We did it two more times before the actual dance.”
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ!” Akeria shouts through a mouthful of dinner. “This ain’t fair! How come a God-fearing, good lil’ Christian girl like you can get laid three times in the space of three days an’ I get nothing?”
“Jeez Keeks that’s so far off the mark. Christian? Uh-huh. Good? No way,” Vanessa teases. Monique, for perhaps the twelfth time this evening, looks as if she’s severely regretting telling her friends anything at all, so Vanessa decides to be helpful. “When’d you bang again, then? Thursday night was the first. You stay over?”
“Yeah. We did it again the next morning and then in the studio on Friday.”
“IN the studio!” Akeria screeches. Vanessa wonders if she should apologise to her neighbours the next day. She, herself, has had sex quieter than Akeria’s screeching. “You are nasty as fuck!”
Monique has the good grace to attempt to look embarrassed before a proud smile takes over. “It was Monet’s idea. She told me she couldn’t keep her hands off me.”
“Well she’s nasty too. Y’all are well suited,” Akeria shrugs, and the three of them laugh.
“So why’re you pressed?” Vanessa asks her friend. She draws from her own experience as she follows up. “You in your feelings?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know!” Monique gives an anguished cry, dramatic as ever. “I just want to get to know her a lil’ more. I don’t want her to think I just wanna sleep with her because she’s Monet X Change, y’know? Like sure, I have a crush on her, but it’s not like I ever had sleep-with-my-dream-girl on my bucket list.”
“Maybe on your fuck-it list,” Akeria supplies unhelpfully.
“Why don’t you ask her out?” Vanessa shrugs. It seems so simple when she’s giving it as advice but if anyone had suggested that as a solution to her feelings for Brooke she would’ve laughed them all the way to Oxford Circus.
Monique gives Vanessa a long-suffering stare. “We both know it ain’t that simple, V.”
“Well, why don’t you tell her what you’ve just told us?”
This time Monique pulls a face. “Well, maybe. I don’t know. Monet don’t seem like the type to catch feelings, though.”
“You don’t seem like the type to catch feelings. Shit, you don’t catch feelings,” Akeria reminds her, Vanessa giving a laugh as she remembers every time Monique has had to pry girls off of her at a bar.
“Shut up. To be honest I don’t know what I’ll do, but I’m glad to have vented about it,” Monique shrugs in resignation, takes a sip of her wine. “Anyway Kiki, what’s the story with Miss Asia? Thought you were gonna sweep her off her feet an’ show her your Hitachi or whatever line usually works for you.”
Vanessa snorts as Akeria gives a smirk. “I wish. Nah, we get along great but we’re honestly just better as friends. It’s almost like all the hours spent rehearsing with our bodies pressed up against each other kinda ruined the magic a lil’. She’s great though. Could set her up with you, though, Vanj?”
In any other context, Vanessa would have a smart remark. However, the thought of being set up with someone else when Brooke Lynn seems to fill her every waking thought these days isn’t a desirable one, so she opens her mouth. “Well, uh…I mean, obviously Asia’s cute, but I’m not really…y’know-”
“Oh my God,” Monique cuts in, trying and failing to suppress a laugh. “You’re crushin’ on Brooke Lynn. You are! Oh my God, Kiki, look at that blush.”
Vanessa frantically shakes her head, willing the blood to flow away from her face. “No! No, it ain’t a crush. Shut up.”
“You’ve gone so red. Jeez. I’d hate to see the colour you go when you are in your feelings, then,” Akeria laughs.
“She is so in her feelings! C’mon, deny it, bitch. Try an’ deny it.”
“Jesus Christ will you both shut up!” Vanessa exhales with exasperation, now highly regretting the amount she’d wound Monique up. “Fine! Fine…it’s not a crush, but I just find the girl attractive, an’ it’s nice gettin’ to know her, is all.”
“That’s literally a crush,” Akeria stares incredulously at her. Vanessa rolls her eyes to the ceiling and aquiesces.
“…fine, maybe it’s a crush, god damn.”
The two girls opposite her explode. Vanessa stuffs more pernil and rice into her mouth with a feeling of resignation.
“Don’t tell me you two’ve been bangin’ mid-rehearsals as well?”
Vanessa breathes a laugh. “Stop it. No, just a couple hugs in the corridor after our dances. We went out for lunch together last week.”
Monique gasps. “You went on a date?”
“That’s not a date, Mo, shut up.”
“It is a date! You took a girl you like out for lunch, how’s that not a date?”
“Because she wasn’t aware it was a date. And neither was I! It was honestly the furthest thing from a date. It was a fuckin’…raisin.”
The three girls giggle, and in the conversational lull something occurs to Vanessa. “The only other thing is, uh…well, both weeks we did our dance for the judges, after we finished, she, uh…she kissed me.”
There’s another bomb of screaming from the girls that detonates in Vanessa’s living room. World War Two hasn’t got shit on Akeria and Monique.
“What?!”
Vanessa shrugs. “I mean it ain’t a massive fuckin’ makeout sesh, obviously! It’s just a lil’ cheek kiss, top-of-the-head kiss, that sorta thing. You can see her doin’ it, the camera got it both times.”
(There’s a fan account on Instagram dedicated to her and Brooke’s Strictly journey, and it’s posted the footage of the kiss Brooke gave her last night. Vanessa will not admit to the girls that she has watched it too many times for it to be explained away as normal.)
“So she likes you back,” Akeria states, as if it’s a fact and not something Vanessa’s been wondering about at random intervals throughout the day every day for the past week or so.
“We don’t know that.”
Akeria’s face turns scheming. She’s clearly got an idea. “Well, why don’t you choreograph a big sexy rhumba or something where you gotta grind up on her an’ get all nasty an’ shit? That’ll speed things along.”
Monique points her fork at Akeria in agreement. “Yes! ‘Cuz Jan and Jackie did that in, like, week 1, and they’re already fuckin’.”
Vanessa screws her face up. “Jan and Jackie ain’t sleeping with each other, shut up.”
“Oh my God, girl, I beg you buy a pair of glasses,” Akeria rolls her eyes, causing Monique to let out a laugh.
“Yeah, they absolutely are.”
Vanessa shoves another mouthful of dinner in. She’s hungry, and it doesn’t help when she’s trying to talk and eat. “Well, Strictly curse aside, it’s our Jive week this week, so that’s operation sexy dance out the window for at least another seven days.”
“Ugh. That’s annoyin’,” Akeria consoles her. After that, talk immediately turns to movie week and dances, and the conversation has moved on.
But it’s nice now that she’s admitted her crush on Brooke Lynn to Akeria and Monique. She’s got her girls to vent to when Brooke gives her a smile that comes with an extra added twinkle in her eye that sets Vanessa’s insides on fire, or to squeal to when Brooke brings her a coffee from the cafe they’d visited for brunch last week “just because”. She can’t take her eye off the prize too much though, even in the excitement of movie week. They’re doing their Jive to Runaway Baby from the Madagascar franchise (Brooke insists it’s niche and Vanessa insists it’s not) where they’re dressed as animals breaking out of huge cage props and “running away”. It’s not going to be as iconic as Plastique and Scarlet’s Dirty Dancing-themed Salsa, nor will it be as hot as Crystal and Gigi’s Rhumba (to License to Kill, no less), but it’s theirs, and it’s fun, and it’s hilarious watching Brooke get to grips with the insane amount of kicks needed for a Jive to be a Jive.
“My feet feel like they’re going to fall off,” she groans, lying flat on the floor after a particularly intense Wednesday rehearsal. Vanessa hides a laugh behind her hands, sneakily pulls out her phone to film her.
“What?”
“I said my feet feel like they’re about to fall off,” Brooke repeats louder, for the unknown benefit of the camera.
“You ain’t much of a soldier, are you?” Vanessa scoffs affectionately. Brooke sits up on her elbows, noticing Vanessa’s phone.
“Are you filming this? You’re filming this,” Brooke asks and then confirms without Vanessa even having to say anything. “Well to anyone that follows Vanessa, I’d just like to say that this is human exploitation and you should not be supporting this.”
Vanessa howls with laughter, tries to ignore how good her name sounds in Brooke’s mouth. “She loves me really.”
“I love her really,” Brooke rolls her eyes, and Vanessa’s heart jumps at the words even though they’re part of a joke.
She stops filming, posts the video to her feed and leaves it as they keep practising. When they stop for lunch and they’re sitting scrolling, Vanessa’s eyes widen at the comment Monique has left, her friend taking her stirring to new levels:
moheart: you two are so cute omg branjie 5 ever xxxxx
As Vanessa’s contemplating using the cables that line the floors of Elstree Studios as garotting wire when she sees Monique at the show on Saturday, she taps on the comment’s likes (it’s got 85 so far). Her heart stops when she sees the familiar blue tick of bhytes at the top of the list. Vanessa darts her eyes Brooke’s way as if her face gives anything away, and of course it doesn’t. Brooke’s scrolling casually as if she hadn’t liked a thing, and it manages to mess even more with Vanessa’s head. Vanessa enjoys the feeling though, this experience of having a crush on a cute girl again. She is so used to healing (she’s had to do it for the best part of a year now), and it’s nice to have butterflies in her stomach instead of an endless churning ocean.
Her feelings for Brooke aren’t helped by Cheryl and her ridiculous quiz on It Takes Two on Thursday night after their rehearsal. Okay, Vanessa supposes- every couple has done one, so it’s not exactly as if they’re being singled out. But when they finish their usual interview (how they felt regarding last week’s comments, how rehearsals are going, how they feel about the week ahead) and Cheryl pulls out two sets of glittery pink paddles (one saying me and the other saying her) with an excited grin on her face, Vanessa does a bad job of masking her horror.
“Oh my God. Cheryl, what is this?”
“Welcome to…Mrs and Mrs!” Cheryl announces with a small flourish, and the film crew give a cheer. Brooke snorts beside her, just as dumbfounded. Cheryl continues. “Okay, Brooke and Vanessa, I’m going to ask you both a series of questions and you’ll need to hold up your paddle to show me who you think is the best fit as the answer- you, or your partner. Every time you both give me the same answer, you get a point. For example, if I asked you…who sweats the most in rehearsals?”
Vanessa rushes to hold up the paddle that says her and as soon as she’s done it she cranes her neck to look at the one Brooke’s held up. She squeals when she sees me staring back at her, a blush appearing on Brooke’s face as she giggles.
“I sweat! I’m very sweaty! I never wear grey in rehearsals!” Brooke pouts in anguish, and Vanessa gives a laugh. She leans into her in a show of sympathy, trying to ignore the way her pulse races as she catches the scent of her perfume. It’s not the Flash that she wears at the weekends, but it’s still just as intoxicating.
“Not sure we needed that much detail, love, but you get the idea! You’d get a point, because you both said Brooke,” Cheryl pokes fun at Brooke, before her gaze snaps back to the camera, all charisma and TV-presenter-smile. “Okay, your score to beat is five, that was set by Gigi and Crystal on Monday’s show and none of the other girls have beaten it so far! Ladies- are you ready?”
Vanessa raises her eyebrows, tries not to look at Brooke who she knows will be smiling like an idiot. “As I’ll ever be, I guess.”
“Okay. Let’s play…Mrs and Mrs!” Cheryl announces dramatically, and immediately holds up a set of glittery cards that the questions are written on. “Question one- who’s the most patient?”
Vanessa laughs and she can feel Brooke being set off beside her. She’s held up her, and Vanessa’s held up me.
“She’s so laid-back she’s horizontal!” Brooke laughs, and Vanessa swats her. She melts a little as Brooke’s gaze turns affectionate. “It’s why she’s such a good teacher. I’ve said it before, but I’m really lucky.”
Cheryl moves on before Vanessa can react to the compliment. “Who’s the best dancer?”
Vanessa hears Brooke scoff. Sure enough, Brooke has once again held up the her paddle, and Vanessa has voted for herself too. Brooke laughs as she looks at Vanessa’s paddles. “Of course it’s her! Has any celebrity voted for themself?!”
“Willam and Yvie both did!” Cheryl giggles, and Brooke rolls her eyes so much that her body tilts back with them. “Okay, next question- who is the better cook?”
Vanessa holds up me, and Brooke’s held up her. It definitely shouldn’t make Vanessa feel as good as it does.
“Brooke is like the kinda person who would struggle to keep a cactus alive, never mind her own damn self,” Vanessa laughs, and Brooke laughs along, agreeing rather than being offended.
“And Vanessa should go on Celebrity Masterchef one year. I swear to God.”
Vanessa looks at Brooke and smiles, happy for the compliment. She’s sure she’s not imagining that Brooke leans into her a tiny bit.
“Three points so far ladies, you’re on a roll!” Cheryl comments, impressed. “Who is more of a perfectionist?”
Vanessa fumbles with the paddles in her haste to hold up her. Brooke has indeed also voted for herself.
“She will make, like, one mistake and she’ll make us run the entire thing through until she gets it right,” Vanessa explains, Brooke giggling beside her in embarrassment. “I thought it was meant to be me that worked her hard, not the other way!”
Cheryl laughs from her interviewer’s chair. She reaches the next card and her eyebrows fly up her face. “Ooh, one for your massive egos here- who’s the most attractive?”
Vanessa’s heart gives a little jump and her brain thinks almost a hundred thoughts at once. She could play things off and vote for herself (because ultimately, she’s well aware of the fact she’s cute, she’s got a mirror), but part of her wants to see how Brooke will react to the compliment. Deciding all this in the space of about two seconds, Vanessa holds up the her paddle. To her surprise and poorly-concealed joy, Brooke is also holding up the her paddle. Vanessa’s trying to hide her smile and Brooke’s expression suggests she’s doing the same.
“I mean, I’m not gonna be big-headed,” Vanessa plays it off. Cheryl is looking at the both of them with a little scheming smile on her face.
“Well, nice to see that the first time you drop a point is because you’re both just too busy trying to compliment each other, in’t that sweet!” she grins. Vanessa wishes she had one of Cheryl’s cards to fan the blush away from her face. As Cheryl moves on to her next card, her mouth drops open. “Oh, right, this one’s a good ‘un. Who is most likely to have a crush on someone in the cast?”
Fuck. Vanessa can feel Brooke giving similar amounts of hesitation beside her, and the two of them share an awkward glance and a laugh. Without really knowing what she’s doing, Vanessa slowly holds up the paddle that says me. She’s almost scared to look at Brooke’s, but she leans forward anyway. Staring back at her from the paddle is the exact same word as the one she herself had held up- Brooke has also said me.
Cheryl gives a reaction much as if she’s reporting on breaking world news. “Ooh, now that’s interesting! You’ve both said yourselves. Any reason? Do we actually have any crushes flying around the studio?”
Vanessa holds a tight, awkward grimace on her face, hoping she can avoid the question. She almost feels her soul leave her body when Brooke crosses her legs and sits straight. “You might think that, I couldn’t possibly comment.”
As Cheryl appears to stave off an aneurism, Vanessa cuts in with the best way of diffusing the situation she could manage. “Aw, you know I gotta crush on you, Cheryl, stop pretendin’ like you don’t know!”
Cheryl howls with laughter, turns to the camera and appeals to her wife who’s presumably sitting at home. “Blu, babe, don’t listen to her!”
Vanessa joins in with the laughter, suddenly willing the interview to be over.
“Okay Brooke and Vanessa, at the end of Mrs and Mrs, you have scored…four!”
The production team claps them, and Brooke turns to Vanessa to hi-five her. Vanessa accepts with a laugh. Cheryl shuffles her cards and turns to the camera.
“Well they might not’ve won Mrs and Mrs but they’re still gonna be dancing on Saturday- Brooke and Vanessa, everybody!”
There’s another clap, and their interview is finished. Thank God.
It’s only when they’re walking back outside afterwards after a little bit of small-talk about their plans for the rest of the evening that Brooke quirks a bashful smile at her. “So, uh…you think you’re more likely to get a crush on someone in the cast than me? Does this mean you’ve got one on somebody?”
Vanessa suddenly feels as if she might vomit up her own heart. She plays it off, narrows her eyes at Brooke. “Alright, Cheryl, damn! I thought the interview was over. Jeez.”
Brooke gives a small laugh. They’re walking close, and every time Brooke’s body brushes against hers Vanessa swears she sees sparks flying off them both. “Just asking. I said myself, remember?”
Vanessa already feels ever so slightly giddy, so she takes the risk. She cocks her head at Brooke as she walks. “Alright, since you wanna talk about crushes so much. Who’ve you gotta crush on?”
“I asked first,” Brooke shrugs easily, stopping as they both reach the doors to the exit. Vanessa lets out an exasperated laugh.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, we are full-grown adult women.”
Brooke splutters a giggle as she leans on the door and opens it, the freezing cold air smacking Vanessa across the face. They both leave the building and Brooke stands still, her face wearing a hopeful expression. The wind is whipping her long blonde hair over her shoulders.
Damn, she looks so beautiful.
“So you’re not telling, then?” Brooke smirks. Vanessa thinks about it. She thinks about what Brooke’s honest to God reaction would be if she actually turned around and said yeah, I’ve got a crush on you. The thought of doing so almost makes her laugh.
“Well I’m not a fifteen year old high schooler, so no. Sorry to disappoint,” Vanessa smirks back at her. Maybe this is flirting. She’s not even mad about it. Thinking again, she cocks her head curiously as she shoves her hands in the pockets of her huge hoodie that she’s pulled over her interview outfit. “You gonna tell me?”
Brooke’s smile is still there, still cheeky. “No.”
“But you’ve got one.”
“I never said that,” Brooke shrugs easily. For a moment they’re both standing biting back smiles at each other, and Vanessa feels as if she’s caught in some form of stalemate. It’s Brooke that breaks it first, because of course it is, and she brushes some hair out of her face as she shrugs at Vanessa again. “Well, have a good night, anyway! See you tomorrow, bright and early.”
“Yeah, you too. Get home safe,” Vanessa says, the two of them sharing the usual friendly wave that comes with their goodbye. In spite of herself, Vanessa watches Brooke turn on her heel and walk in the opposite direction to her. Just as she’s about to start making her own way home, Brooke pauses, turning to look back over her shoulder.
The pair of them share one last bashful smile before they make their way back home and it feels as if Vanessa floats home on a cloud.
Saturday rolls around quickly, and Brooke has managed to transform herself from having feet made of concrete blocks to someone with featherlight ankles, so Vanessa is confident that they’ll score well tonight. She’s not really got scoring or the judges at the front of her mind, though, because movie week is entirely too much fun. It feels as if she’s at Universal studios as she walks through costume and hair and makeup, everyone dressed up in variations of movie characters. The best by far, though, is Jaida and Yvie’s. Any part of Jaida that isn’t clad in a grey leotard and skirt is painted entirely in grey body paint, with her hands in black gloves. Her hair has been expertly twirled into two long “ears” on the top of her head, and makeup has painted a blotted white stripe down the centre of her face. Yvie is wearing an orange and black striped morph suit, on top of which costume have given her a little red and white striped waistcoat with a buckle, a red cape, and, of course, a pair of boots to dance in.
And her face is painted like a cat.
“I’m going to see that in my nightmares this week,” Scarlet pipes up from across the green room, looking every inch the iconic Baby in her pink dress and glittery silver heels.
“More like your dreams,” Yvie winks at her, and Scarlet laughs, presumably to offset the pink blush on her cheeks.
“Yeah Scarlet, don’t you want her pussy?” Willam joins in from where she’s getting her hair swept into a low ponytail. Her costume is nowhere near as extravagant, but it’s classy nonetheless- a fitted tuxedo suit for her stint as a spy as part of her and Phi Phi’s dance to 4 Minutes. Courtney laughs from her position sitting on the dressing table beside her. Even though she and Blair were voted out last week, Courtney’s role as a pro means she’s still part of the show’s group dances. It’s something that Vanessa thinks Willam is particularly grateful for (she’s seen the hand-holding when they think no one is looking). Courtney starts singing Livin’ La Vida Loca under her breath absent-mindedly.
“Hey, listen, at least neither of us are Shrek,” Jaida consoles Yvie, who doesn’t look as if she needs much consoling.
“You guys, Courtney’s right there,” Willam pipes up again, the girls laughing as Courtney swipes at her playfully. Willam flinches in her chair, much to the irritation of the hair stylist.
The costumes aren’t all ridiculous, though. There’s a murmur of admiration when Gigi and Crystal emerge from wardrobe in skin-tight floor-length velvet gowns (one red, one black), each with a huge slit up the side. Akeria whispers something to Vanessa about Crystal stealing her idea of a big sexy rhumba, and Vanessa tries to laugh from her current position in the hairstylist’s chair but the two thick plaits they’re weaving her mane of brown locks into makes it difficult. She can’t help but let out a gasp when Jan and Jackie emerge from their costume fitting, though, and neither can the rest of the girls: Jackie is dressed in black leggings and a red waistcoat and tails, covered in shining gold brocade and black detailing. It’s Jan, though, who takes Vanessa’s breath away. She looks like a muted version of Lily James’ Cinderella in a gorgeous, floaty powder blue dress which hits her calves, little dimantés and tiny butterflies stitched into the light fabric.
“Janet, holy hell! It’s Strictly, this ain’t fashion week!” Jaida cries, sticking her tongue out at the end to let her friend know she’s joking. Jan gives a shy laugh, sweeps her immaculately curled blonde hair over her shoulders.
“Yeah, all you’re missing is a tiara,” Scarlet agrees enthusiastically.
“Hey, I thought we were meant to be showing off our celebrities!” Akeria pipes up with a raised eyebrow. Before Jan can reply, Jackie takes her hand and smiles.
“I’m happy to let this one steal the show for this week. She looks gorgeous, she deserves to be in the spotlight,” she shrugs. Vanessa doesn’t miss the look Jan gives her partner or the way she squeezes Jackie’s hand. She thinks back to what Monique had said at dinner on Sunday. Maybe something is happening between those two after all.
“Vanessa! You’re up please, fitting,” one of the costume girls calls out for her, and Vanessa obediently dashes towards the room in question. Brooke’s been squirrelled away in her own dressing room having to do some prep work for her filming the next morning, so when Vanessa sees her in her own costume, it’s not what she expects. She can’t find the words to describe how Brooke looks.
“Don’t…say…anything,” Brooke warns her, but it’s too late- the laugh is already coming out of Vanessa’s body before she can stop it, and it turns into a howl when Brooke grabs her tail- her stripy, white and black tail- and gives a twirl. She is dressed entirely as a lemur.
It’s not long until Brooke is spluttering a laugh herself. “Don’t tell me this isn’t the hottest you’ve ever seen me look.”
Vanessa’s cheeks hurt from laughing. “I don’t think I can keep my hands off you, boo, I’m gonna be honest.”
“Well luckily you’ll be wearing the exact same thing in about five minutes,” Brooke quips back at her, and Vanessa pouts and groans. She doesn’t really mind though. Mad, extravagant costumes are a staple of Strictly movie week, and she’s just happy she gets to experience it with a partner this year.
Soon enough the show is starting, and Vanessa watches the first dance from the Divinatorium with her hand entwined in Brooke’s. Neither of them mention the contact- it’s apparently just another secret. That and both of their crushes. Willam and Phi Phi are first and it seems as if Willam’s technique is a little better after her somewhat dismal scores in the weeks prior. Monique’s told Vanessa she’s seen Willam getting extra lessons from Courtney during her lunch breaks, so she suspects that’s what is making the difference. It seems to have paid off, and they get a score of twenty five altogether. After they see that dance, they can’t stay to watch Aja and Farrah as they’re on third, so while Farrah lives her Disney princess fantasy waltzing to Someday My Prince Will Come, Vanessa is marking the steps with Brooke backstage.
“This is gonna be a good week. I can feel it,” Brooke smiles at her, and Vanessa believes it. They’ve coped way better with the Jive than they did with the Paso, so she’s eager to show the judges what they can really do. Farrah and Aja get their critiques and their scores (a disappointing 17), and just like that, Brooke and Vanessa’s VT is playing and their massive cages are being rolled out onto the stage. There’s a distance between them in their two separate props, but Vanessa knows that Brooke’s feeling confident and so, in turn, does she.
“Dancing the Jive…Brooke Lynn Hytes and Vanessa Mateo!”
The electric guitar slices through the quiet of the room and with it sends an electric shock through Vanessa’s veins as she starts to dance. Her eyes are focussed on the audience, ever the professional, but she hopes Brooke is coping as well as she’s done in rehearsals. As soon as it comes to the part of the music where they “break down” the door of their cages and land into hold with each other, Vanessa can’t help it when the fake performance smile on her face turns into a real one as she faces Brooke (whose face, like hers, is painted like a lemur, complete with bright yellow eyeshadow). Brooke’s face is concentrating hard, and Vanessa knows she’s nailing all the steps as they reach the section where they figure-eight their ankles then change and do the same with their other foot.
“See I ain’t try’na hurt you, baby, no, no, no, I just wanna work you, baby…”
There’s not a whole lot of the dance spent in hold as it’s essentially a test of their synchronicity, Vanessa doing the rightfootflick, leftfootflick, flick, flick, flick, PIVOT and hoping Brooke’s doing the same beside her. But it’s fast and it’s fun and she knows her choreo is good and fuck it, they’re both dressed as lemurs, so they’ve got a fighting chance of doing a decent job this week. Brooke takes her hand and spins her round all while doing the most complex footwork Vanessa’s taught anyone before, and her face is showing it. Vanessa knows she’ll get pulled up for letting her concentration show, but everything else, technically, has gone really well so far, which is just as well as Laganja is standing up to take in every single inch of the footwork.
“Your poor little heart will end up alone, ‘cause God knows I’m a rolling stone, so you better run, run, runaway, runaway baby…”
On cue, Brooke slides herself down on the floor then jumps up, and Vanessa puts her hand on her shoulder right on the final beat. The audience erupts, the clapping envelops them, and Vanessa can’t help but freak out a little. This is the first dance they’ve done where she really feels they completely nailed every single part of it, and she’s punching the air as Brooke picks her up by her waist, spinning her round and round on the ballroom floor. When she puts her down, Brooke pulls her into another hug, and Vanessa can feel the kiss she plants on the top of her head. It’s strong and insistent and Vanessa wishes it had been pressed to her lips, but she supposes she can’t wish for everything all at once.
Vanessa barely even takes in Michelle’s interview with Brooke, she’s simply too happy. As Michelle asks the judges what they thought, Vanessa hopes and prays their comments will reflect the dance they completed.
And they do.
Vanessa listens to them all in a happy haze- the words “immaculate footwork”, “light and precise”, “turned a corner”, and “breakthrough” all pop like fireworks in her head, and she can’t help but squeeze Brooke’s hand every time the judges give them a new compliment.
“Just one very little thing,” Shangela says at the end of her critiques. “You were concentrating so hard on that, and rightly so because it’s hard! But I’d love to see more of the chemistry you have with Vanessa, because you’ve got about two minutes to tell a story out there, and to see you both connecting with each other would be lovely!”
Vanessa tries to suppress a smile at her comments, and Brooke nods affirmingly at Shangela’s words. The incredible feedback is ringing in her ears so much that she hardly knows what she even says to Divina when they both run up to the Divinatorium after their dance is done, and when it pans to the judges for their scores Vanessa can feel her own hand unbearably sweaty in Brooke’s.
“Will the judges please reveal their scores. Bianca Del Rio.”
Vanessa sees the paddle that she holds up and screams. “Seven!”
She’s so busy squealing and hugging Brooke in her delight that she almost misses the next few scores.
“Kennedy Davenport.”
“Eight!”
Vanessa’s jaw drops so far open she’s momentarily scared she’s dislocated it. This changes everything. This is night and day to the scores they’ve had previously.
“Shangela Wadely.”
“Seven!”
“Laganja Estranja.”
“Eight!”
Vanessa can hear the other couples cheering and clapping for them both and she can feel a bunch of hands patting her on the back, but all she can focus on is Brooke’s heartbeat through her chest. She is euphoric. There’s no feeling like it.
“That’s a score of thirty!” Divina tells them, and when Vanessa pulls away she can see that Brooke is crying happy tears. The sight almost makes her want to start crying too. Divina pulls a sympathetic face. “Brooke, you’re clearly happy!”
“I am! I’ve just said from the start that I don’t want to let Vanessa down, and finally we’ve done really really well!” she sniffs, and Vanessa pouts and squeezes her waist. Thirty. Their score was thirty. Thirty out of forty. They’ve only dropped ten marks and it’s week three.
This is good.
As Divina carries on interviewing them both, Vanessa feels her concentration drift away. She’s remembering Shangela’s comments about chemistry. Next week is their Salsa week. Vanessa remembers her conversation with Akeria, and operation sexy dance, and in that moment she decides to make it her mission for the week to show the judges just how much chemistry she and Brooke have.
#rpdr fanfiction#ortega#bet you look good on the dancefloor#strictly au#lesbian au#branjie#vanessa vanjie mateo#brooke lynn hytes#monique heart#monet x change#akeria davenport#cheryl hole#jaida essence hall#willam belli#courtney act#scarlet envy#yvie oddly#background momo#background scyvie#background jankie#background witney
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This kid at my school was stalking my friend. So me and the boys got his ass expelled.
Ok, so I have been waiting to post this for ever since school got out. But hold on tight, because this is a good one.
So, the time has come to pick student council president for next year, and there are two candidates. Let's call them Charlie and Franklin. Everyone at school loves Charlie. He is a great guy, really sociable, hard working, kind hearted, and is really fun and doesn't care about what anyone says.
Franklin, however, is this stuck up, religious kid who thinks he can do whatever he wants to women.
And me and my 3 other friends who I will call Zachary, Joe, and David, seemed to be the only ones who noticed or cared. We thought he was going to win, because this is Bible thumping North Carolina I'm talking about here. All the Christian kids loved him, and that made up 70% of school.
Let's start at about 2 weeks before the next student council president is chosen. I'm @ my job, when I finally get to take my break. I check my phone and see my friend, who we will call Kat, texted me. (Lots of names, sorry :/).
She texted me: "Hey you know Franklin? In our grade?"
I responded: "Yeah I can't stand his ass."
She then follows up with: "I think he's been stalking me."
I had been waiting for something like this. Not Kat getting stalked hell no, but finally some evidence to reveal how shitty Franklin is.
So I text my friends Joe, Zachary, and David and tell them: "I may have some serious dirt on Franklin. Let's meet @ the park sometime so we can take him down."
They all agree, and the very next day we were in the park in our neighborhood hatching out our plan. It came all so quick to us. It was amazing. It was like we were thinking the exact same things and then coming up with even better ways to make it all work.
Finally, we get the plan in work. We had Kat turn on your read receipt on her phone, so Franklin knew he was ignoring her texts. Also, a little background on how Kat got his number, is that they were partners for a project but he clearly wanted more.
Anyway, this would frustrate Franklin and cause him to show up @ Kat's house. Kat had cameras outside of her house too, so it was perfect. Kat would also screenshot their texts and send them to me. I would get onto my TV Productions teachers computer and email them the screenshots. David, who was in the same class as me, would distract the teacher as I did it. But I had to wait, I wanted to make sure Franklin's life was ruined.
Joe and Zachary's job was the most difficult. We were going to get Franklin to confess to groping, stalking, and attempting to rape/assault girl (s) who went to our school. But they weren't friends, so it was going to be hard.
So a week passes by, and Franklin shows up to Kat's house. He is fuming. I was at Kat's house that day because he texted Kat in all caps: "STOP IGNORING ME! WHAT DID I DO?! HUH?! I DIDN'T HURT YOU! I JUST WANT TO TALK" She told me to come over ASAP.
I was coming over no matter what, so thankfully I wasn't busy. I wanted to witness Franklin's meltdown. He bangs on Kat's door, and Kat answers and says "Can you fuck off? Take a hint you fucking creep?!"
As she's closing the door, Franklin violently grabs her arm and says "I love you, Kat," and then proceeded to try and GRAB HER ASS AND KISS HER! Kat then slammed the door and begun to cry.
I was fucking shocked. This fiend knew no bounds. I hugged Kat immediately after. I was definitely going for the kill now.
I told Joe and Zachary the next day at school to scrap their plan. I had gotten the footage from Kat's cameras, and told them to give it to our Deputy (who is awesome, and we knew he'd keep us anonymous) and then pass it on to our Principal. Once again, we had to wait to strike because we wanted to make sure his little 15 seconds of Fame turned into 15 eternities of suffering.
Flash forward about 5-6 days later and the day has come. So 1st period I show up to my TV Productions and I see David. He is so ready. The plan was he was going to talk to my teacher outside about a specific shot he wanted, but needed help with and wanted him to demonstrate.
The teacher obliged, and my time came. I plugged in the flashdrive all Mr. Robot style and download the slideshow of screenshots. Oh, and they were all extremely zoomed in, so no one could miss it. I send it to all the teachers and adminstration and had it titled as "Here's this week's episode of ..." Most teachers ignore it until the end of class, I knew my next teacher would, so I wasn't stressing. Teacher comes back and doesn't suspect a thing. No one snitches on me or anything. It was too perfect. The bell rings, and Joe screams for me and David. We rush over.
"I got the tape to Prescott. Did you email the screenshots?" Joe asked.
I didn't even have to say anything. I just gave him a look and he knew.
So I sat down in my second period, preparing for the mayhem to come. My teacher begins to play the candidates video. They start off by showing the candidates and the candidates saying why you should vote for them. We go through Historian, Treasurer, VP, and another two (I can't remember what they were) before we get to president. Charlie goes first, and this class I was in wasn't full of the stuck up Christian kids, so they loved Charlie. Frank goes and it's dead silent. No one cares. But I knew a lot would, and this class room was a minority.
The final 10-15 minutes 2nd period arrive, and my teacher per usual goes "Who wants to watch this weeks ..."
Everyone says yes, as we all knew it would help pass the time. But I knew something everyone else didn't. Felt kinda good tbh, like I was Robin Hood.
The slides roll, and the whole class gasps at the messages. The kid next to me I hear go under his breath "Holy shit Franklin is so fucked." Then, the teacher looked around like she had no clue what the fuck to do. She was flabbergasted. 5 teenagers successfully bamboozled an entire school run by adults.
Franklin left school early that day. Later that day deputy pulled me into his office, and thanked me for what I did. He said it took real courage to do what I did. I wanted to cry tbh. I told him to just please keep it anonymous. I don't want any drama, I don't want to be seen as hero or a villain, I just want to go into my senior year with no worries. He happily obliged, and gave me a big ass bear hug.
Now, while this event only happened about a month and half a go, Franklin got royally fucked. The school kicked him out, Kat's family eventually found out and went to court, only to be payed and undisclosed settlement before anything could get kicked off. Finally, Franklin will be homeschooled his senior year.
Charlie won President and I was so happy. Turns out he actually had Franklin beat even if nothing had happened to him. Oops.
Joe, David, and Zachary are doing well. Couldn't have completed the task at hand with out them.
And finally, me and Kat are dating and are seeing You Story 4 tommorow. So go fuck yourself Franklin.
So, yes, I got the last laugh. I hope Franklin can turn it around. I want the world to be full of more kind people then evil people. I hope he changes. But for now, he can go fuck himself. But always remember fellas, be an upstander, not a bystander. I wonder if anyone else actually knew, but didn't speak up. But I did, and I was not going to let Franklin slither away.
(source) story by (/u/toolfan3)
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christian tying you up n fucking u good luv ur writing bb
thank you, darling, hope this one is as good as you imagined x
“Christian!” you gasped as he took his tie off and started tying your hands to the bedpost behind you.
He smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “What?”
“Are you tying me up before you fuck me?”
He turned the question on you, tightening the knot before his fingers started shimmying up the hem of your short dress. “Are you complaining?”
“No,” you immediately reacted, feeling goosebumps rise behind Christian’s fingers as they traveled up your legs.
“Good,” he smirked, fingers hooking onto your panties before sliding them down your legs and off to the side of the room. He leaned back on top of you, starting to take his button-up off, his pants already discarded, leaving him in his black Calvins.
“Christian,” you groaned, watching his hand run over his tattooed arm before they grabbed hold of your dress, pushing it up until your core was exposed, air hitting the sensitive and already wet spot. Your hands tried to reach out to touch his body but were immediately tugged back by the tie.
“What, baby? Tell me what you want. Use your words.”
You had no problem being assertive in the bedroom, so as Christian’s curious fingers parted your thighs and traced along the outside of your hip, you groaned, “Eat me.”
And he did as you asked.
His head dipped into your thighs, lips meeting yours. You hissed at the new sensation, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he licked your folds, running his tongue up and down the wet area. You are squirming on the bed in minutes, feeling his tongue do wonders to your aching core. His teeth pulled at your folds, driving you absolutely mad before he softly tongued your sensitive nub,
“Christian,” you moaned lowly, making his face pull away from your throbbing core and look up at your face.
“Yes, baby?”
“Fuck me,” you ordered, feeling one of his fingers entering you and not knowing how long you’d be able to last if he wasn’t inside you soon.
“Your wish is my command,” he smirked, hands lingering at the waistband of his boxers.
“Wait!” you interjected. “Let me try.”
Though your hands were clasped together over your head, you could bend your knees until your feet were placed over Christian’s hard abdomen. He smirked, watching your toes curl and hook onto the waistband of his boxers, slowly and strategically pulling them down until they reached his knees, at which point he tossed them to the side.
“Impressive,” he complimented, climbing over you and lining himself up to your entrance. “I think that deserves a prize, don’t you, baby?”
You moaned as his lips met yours and he slowly entered you, stretching you out until he was balls-deep. Then he pulled back out just as slowly and rammed himself back in at a slightly faster pace.
Your legs wrapped around his waist, legs hooking around the back and pulling him closer to you.
“Fuck, Chris!” His pace started to pick up when he found your G-spot, watching you practically shake under him as he pushed back into the same spot over and over.
Your knees started to buckle as the pleasure became too intense, driving you over the edge earlier than anticipated. Your breathing faltered for a second, your back arching until your chest met Christian’s, eyes fluttering shut as you experienced our euphoria.
“Aw, baby, you came?” Christian asked when you came down from your high.
“Flip us over,” you asked him, your heavy breathing halting for a moment as he did so.
Now, you were straddling Christian, his member inside you and your hands still tied to the bedpost. And maybe it was better that way because your grip on the wooden headboard intensified as you started rolling your hips over Christian’s v-line, watching him moan from under you.
His fingers dug into the skin of your thighs as your pace quickened, his member living for the friction caused by your walls, and eventually unloading inside you as you rode him.
“Fuck,” he groaned lowly, moaning your name as you milked his high, eyes on his chest as his breathing evened out after a while.
He reached up to untie your hands, bringing them into his and placing a kiss on each palm.
You laid down beside him, both out of breath and energy, staring up at the ceiling. Eventually, you turned to Christian with a grin of your own.
“Next time, you’re the one that’s getting tied up.”
And, to that, he had no objection.
#christian pulisic#christian pulisic blurb#christian pulisic imagine#christian pulisic smut#chelsea fc
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Whenever you can, can you write some Andrew bad mental health days angst with Nicky trying to help single-handedly? Maybe while the twins were living with him? With a hopeful ending of course. More importantly I wanted to ask if you’re alright? Your last post was worrying.
So I’m doing a lot better now. It’s just that sometimes I feel like my parents treat loving me like it’s a chore and neither of them really want to do it. They also just remind me all the time about how hard it is to love me and implying that my theoretical future husband would leave me over these flaws. I made the mistake once of implying that maybe I should have a wife instead and my mother looked ready to murder me. Which u literally see me project in almost exact words in this piece. Sorry. Anyway.. that’s how my efforts at coming out are going :)) It’s fine tho. I’m going to college in a year which is its own headache.
Thanks again for your concern and your patience. I hope this is what you were looking for <3
A bone-deep sense of exhaustion had been weighing Nicky down for so long that he almost didn’t notice it anymore. Almost. Dragging himself into the backroom of Eden’s, he felt another wave of it crash over him.
“Nick,” Roland called. His eyes were wide and his legs were trembling. His lips were swollen and bruised too. A smile curled the edges of Nicky’s lips. Before he could prod Roland about his disheveled appearance, Roland said four words that always sent every thought careening out the window. “Something’s wrong with Drew.” Shoving him aside, Nicky raced down the hall. From the end of the corridor, he heard labored breathing.
“Andrew,” he called as he nudged the door open. Nicky felt his stomach plummet at the sight of his cousin curled on the floor. Tears were welling in his eyes. “Hey, man,” he started.
“Get. Out!” The words tore from Andrew’s throat, low and guttural. Fury was written into every crevice of his face. Nicky stumbled backward, falling onto his butt. The door slammed shut in his face. Crawling up to the door, Nicky lay his head up against it. From behind it, he heard Andrew’s breath coming in ragged gasps. “No. No. Please, no.” Nicky’s heart stuttered. When he’d first met Andrew, he’d made the mistake of saying please. He’d been rewarded with a none too gentle warning about using that word in Andrew’s presence. For Andrew to be saying it now…
“Andrew, let me in,” he begged.
“No!” Andrew screamed. “Leave me alone.” Tears raced down Nicky’s face. His fingers ached for they’d been clutching tightly to the doorframe.
“Let me help,” he whispered. This wasn’t the first time this had happened. A week ago, Nicky had been summoned by the school to pick Andrew up early after a similar episode. According to Aaron, it had happened a few times when they’d lived with Tilda too. However, they’d been occurring more frequently since the twins had moved in. Was it something Nicky had done? Had he hurt Andrew?
Nicky didn’t know how long he sat there, begging softly for Andrew to let him in before the door finally creaked open. Andrew stepped out, dry-eyed. His blank facade had resettled over his face but his eyes were red and puffy.
“Water,” he croaked. Nicky scrambled to his feet and checked a few of the back rooms until he found some bottled water. Offering it to his cousin, he chewed on the inside of his cheek as Andrew down the whole thing in one go.
“Andrew,” he pleaded once more.
“Home,” Andrew ordered. Nicky’s shouldered sagged but he obeyed. Shuffling down the hall, he did his best not to look back at Andrew. He gathered up his jacket from the front before grabbing Aaron. As they walked to the car, Nicky felt a cool breeze blow past. From the corner of his eye, he caught Andrew shivering. Shedding his coat, he waited for Andrew to pass him before throwing it around his shoulders. “I don’t need your shitty jacket,” Andrew snarled.
“Whoops. Guess you're so small I mistook you for a coat rack.”
“You’ve got three seconds to start running, Hemmick.” Nicky was running before the words were out of Andrew’s mouth. It was less than three seconds before Nicky heard Andrew’s footsteps pounding the asphalt behind him.
“That’s cheating,” he cried. “Doesn’t matter, though. My legs are longer anyway.”
“They won’t be after I break them,” Andrew gasped between breaths. Nicky should have known better than to rile Andrew up. While Nicky was the faster of the two, Andrew had incredible endurance. He didn’t have to outrun Nicky. He just had to wait for Nicky to run out of steam. Hooking a left, Nicky headed for the park. Vaulting over the chain-link barrier, Nicky risked a glance back. Andrew had banked to the right and was now running around the perimeter of the barrier.
Looking back was a mistake. Nicky tripped over the playground border that. Falling face-first into the mulch, he felt several pieces of it embed themselves into his flesh.
“Not so fast now, fucker,” Andrew said. For the first time, Nicky saw a smile tug at the edges of Andrew’s smile. It was a sharp, cruel thing but a smile nonetheless. As Andrew’s eyes roved over Nicky’s face, he saw the smile slip away. “You idiot,” he muttered as he grabbed Nicky’s sleeve. Too dumbfounded by the fact that Andrew was touching him, Nicky didn’t protest to being dragged across the park. He still couldn’t find his voice as Andrew shoved him onto a swing and rolled up the sleeves of the coat.
A first aid kit appeared in Andrew’s hands. Producing a pair of tweezers and antiseptic, Andrew set about picking the mulch from Nicky’s face. All the while, Nicky whined about how much it hurt. It didn’t hurt. He just needed something to fill the silence. Plastering a bandaid over the final cut, Andrew stepped back to inspect his work.
“I thought you didn’t need my shitty coat,” Nicky said. Andrew looked down as though he were just noticing what he was wearing. With a scowl he shucked it off and threw it in Nicky’s face. Andrew sat down on the swing beside Nicky. For the first time in a while, his legs were long enough to touch the ground. “Hey,” Nicky started. Andrew groaned as though the conversation was already too long. “I know you don’t want to talk but I need to know what I can do to make this easier for you.”
Silence settled over the pair of them. Just as Nicky was about to give up Andrew answered. “I just need space.”
“I’ve given you all the space I’ve got. I gave you a room. I gave you the keys to the car. I let you come and go as you please. I know you didn’t ask me to come here. You didn’t ask me to stay but I’m always going to be here. No one else really wants me anyway.” A sad smile settled over Nicky’s face. It was true.
Every person has their own love language. Nicky’s was touch. Growing up, Nicky’s parents hadn’t understood that. No, they’d chosen not to. Loving their child was their duty as parents, nothing more. Luther and Maria treated loving Nicky like a chore, never failing to point out how his every flaw would prohibit him from finding a respectable wife. Well, then maybe he didn’t need a wife. Maybe he needed a husband.
Telling his parents as much resulted in them pulling away entirely. Any semblance of love that they’d shown him was now gone. Where Maria woke early to make Nicky’s favorite breakfast, he’d begun coming downstairs to a table set for two. Where Luther brought home little things that he’d thought Nicky may have enjoyed, Nicky watched as his father actively shifted his gift-giving to Maria. It knocked Nicky’s self-confidence to a low he’d never thought possible. Suicide was something Nicky had never understood. Why would anyone want to die? Well, what point was there in living if you had no one to live for?
For as long as Nicky could remember he’d spent his life trying to please his parents. The most he’d ever gotten was a five-second hug for winning a national art contest. Shut out by the only people that had ever meant anything to him, Nicky had spiraled into depression. If it hadn’t been for Dr. Krauss’s push to send him to Germany, Nicky might not be alive today.
In Germany, Nicky had found love. Not just in Erik but Erik’s family loved him. Erik’s friends loved him. They breathe life back into Nicky and offered him a place to stay. And he’d wanted it. Going back to America, Nicky had been okay with facing his parents’ disappointment because he’d known that it didn’t matter. Soon he’d leave Columbia and he’d never look back. Everything was finally going to be okay. And then, Nicky’s world turned itself on its head. Learning about the twins had brought all of Nicky’s plans to a grinding halt.
Nicky knew what living with Luther was like. There was no way he was going to force Aaron and Andrew to brave all of that alone. Germany meant so much to Nicky because he’d been greeted with open arms. The Klose's didn’t love one single aspect of Nicky. They loved him as a whole and Nicky hadn’t had to fight for an ounce of their affection.
The twins were broken and battered and bruised, just as Nicky had been. Luther and Maria weren’t going to welcome them into their home with open arms. Nicky doubted anyone would. There wasn’t anything that Nicky had learned from his father that he’d truly taken to heart, save one: there’s always someone that needs saving. Sure, Luther had meant converting people to Christianity but, from the moment Nicky lay his eyes upon the twins, he knew that no one in the world needed saving more than them.
Nicky didn’t know how to fix them (or even if they could be fixed at all) but he’d take care of them until he found someone that could. He didn’t know how long it would take for them to each find their own Germany, but he was more than willing to stick around until they did.
“I do,” Andrew said. Nicky looked up to find Andrew’s eyes already on him.
“You what?” Nicky’s voice broke halfway.
“I want you to stay.”
#just a pipe dream#andrew joseph minyard#andrew minyard hc#andrew minyard#nicky/erik#nicky hemmick#reveal to me your deepest desires
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Preacher’s Daughter-Patrick Hockstetter X Reader Smut
Request: Anonymous: Patrick x reader imagine please? You’re the daughter of the priest where Patrick and his fam go to church, and he sees you in a white dress and immediately becomes obsessed with u. Stalking you and basically wants to defile the good Christian daughter and one night when he’s in your room (closet) he watches as you masturbate and moan his name and you can take it from there please omg sorry I’m thirsty for Patrick
Warnings: NSFW, Sex
You followed closely behind your mother and father, adjusting the skirt of your dress and cardigan. As you walked through the aisles you greeted the early comers. It was always the same crowd. Mrs.Jefferson, Mr.Matthews, the children in the choir, and the rest of the usuals.
As you chatted with them you felt a pair of eyes on you, but ignored them, continuing to follow your mother.
You sit in the front bench ready to listen to your fathers sermon. Throughout it the burning of the mysterious eyes was too much to take. You turned and your eyes locked with blue green ones that had a dark undertone.
The boy looked familiar, handsome even. You knew his family came here every Sunday, but you never talked to him so you didn't know his name. You figured after the sermon you could maybe change that.
You took in your father's words, as always so interested in the way he was so passionate about his job. You hoped you could find even a sliver of passion for anything in your life that he had for preaching.
After it ended you and your family head into the lobby to talk to those who stuck around moving from person to person. Your mother seemed to be friendly with the boy's mother.
The boy you noticed who was now leaning up against a wall, flicking his lighter opened and closed.
You went over with a sweet smile.
"Hi. I'm Y/N."
"Hey. Name's Patrick Sweetheart."
You feel your cheeks heat up at his forwardness.
You two talk for a bit and you decide he is definitely.....interesting, before your father notices you and comes over.
"Hey any trouble here?"
"No we were just talking."
"Why don't you go talk to Mrs.Anderson about the bake sale so know what she's bringing."
"Sure. Bye Patrick."
"See ya around Princess."
Your father lead you over to Mrs.Anderson and you could see his face flush with concern.
"Honey. I don't think you should talk to that boy anymore?"
"Why not I was just being friendly."
"Trust me he's trouble and the last thing I want for you is to get tangled up with him. Okay?"
You sigh and give him sad eyes.
"Okay Daddy."
"That's my girl."
Before he leaves he quietly tells you to make sure whatever Mrs.Anderson is making to be sure to convince her to also bring her caramel brownies since those were his favorite. You laugh and nod, telling him you're on it, then go to talk to her.
During the week you couldn't help, but let your mind drift to Patrick. Maybe it was the fact he was supposedly dangerous. Or maybe it was the fact that when your could you would try to disobey your father in the smallest of ways.
But whatever it was he took up a good corner of your mind, and he'd probably take up more if you went to the same school. Ever since you were little your father insisted that you go to an all girls Catholic school.
And just like he was in your mind, you were also continuously in Patrick's. The thought of defiling the good little preacher's daughter sent him absolutely wild. He seen you a few times before, when the thought originally took place in his mind, but that little sweet white dress you wore last week was really set him off. He was sure to tell the guys all about you. How sweet and innocent you were, how he needed to have you under him, all the usual Patrick related things.
Of course it didn't end there, of course with Patrick it could never end there. For the 4th time this week he took his familiar route home, that is to say stalling you before going to his own house a few blocks away.
He hid in the large bush near the side of your house, his breathing becoming heavy as he watched you change near your window. He'd only been in your room once and he had to time it perfectly so he didn't get caught. Needless to say the mission went as planned and he left with a pair of your panties.
The sight of you making his pants ever more constricting he figured he had better get home and rub one out, deciding he would come back later tonight like had a few times this week.
And comeback he did, you were gone, so he was able to slip into your room. Although before he did anything you were coming back so he hid in your closet. He watched as you prayed and got into bed, admiring the way your night gown clung to your figure in all the right places. He watched you toss and turn for a bit before his jaw damn near dropped at what he saw next.
You couldn't sleep, but you were always tired after getting off so you figured why not. Again you liked to disobey your father in the littlest ways you could and this was one of them.
You slide your nightgown up a bit a start with just one finger going at a slow pace, teasing yourself. Then you out another finger in, quickening the pace, making yourself quietly moan. However, after this the thought of Patrick's mysterious eyes, shaggy hair, and ringed fingers entered your mind.
You thought about what his head would look like in between your legs, how he would actually feel, hell even blowing off mass for a quickie. All the ideas excited you more and more as you quickened the pace again, this time adding your thumb to the mix, moving it around to put pressure on your clit. Your breath heaved as you were closer and closer to the edge, and you quietly moaned Patrick's name as you came.
Patrick smirked to himself while jacking off in your closet to the little spectacle, although he started after you so he was far from cumming. Who would've thought it'd be that easy, that all he would have to do is talk to you to get stuck in your mind.
As you came down from that high Patrick figured now would be the best time to do it. He exits your closet, walking over to your bed, and he straddles you. At first you want you scream, but through the moonlight coming in the window you can see his eyes and you calm down.
He removed the hand he out over your mouth, once he sees your calm and leans down to kiss you. It is absolutely messy and sloppy, but still filled with passion, and you can't get enough.
"That was quite the show you put on for me Baby," he laughs.
You heat up intensely at the fact he saw you.
"How long were you in here?"
"Not long before that happened. Now tell me what is the preacher's good little daughter doing getting herself off?"
"I disobey my father in the smallest most unnoticeable ways I can. It gives me almost like....like a rush of adrenaline. Like I'm actually real and not like this....perfect puppet he wants me to be."
"Hm." Patrick says as he laughs in his head at the fact you think you're real.
"Well I know one thing that'll definitely give you that rush."
He leans down kissing your neck, moving down and giving you a hickey right between your neck and shoulder. He pulls your nightgown right up over your head, happy to see you're bare underneath.
As he lets you pull his shirt off, he gives you another messy kiss, and grinds against you, making you feel how painfully hard he is.
He pulls away from you to kick off his boots, and pull off his pants. You stare at him in awe for a few seconds. While seemingly tall and lanky, he actually had some lean muscle on him, which looked so good in the space moonlit room.
You weren't going to tell him you were a virgin because you were pretty sure he knew. Which he absolutely did and he was more than happy to change that. He comes back over harshly kissing and biting his way down your body, before everything you had just fantasized about was coming true.
It felt better than could've imagined, the combination of his mouth and fingers moving from your folds to your clit.....damn that boy had skills.
You were on the edge again, this time of being borderline overstimulated when he pulled away making you whine.
He chuckled to himself, taking the look of you wreathing under neath him, before he went in. While his style was anything, but slow he figured at least the first time he entered you it could be slower than his usual pace before he really fucks into you.
So that's what he did, slowly inch by inch getting you used to the foreign stretch, before shoving himself into you and making you gasp. He continued this method going hard and fast before doing one slow thrust in the middle to really drive you nuts.
Which is exactly what it did, you were breathless you whined when you came around him, which was enough to make him cum as well. He stands backs after you finish,putting his clothes on and handing you your nightgown, chuckling at you looking all fucked out for him.
"Yeah that really disobeys him. You're mine now Sweetheart."
Unable to do anything really you just nod, accepting the fact that you would now have to hide from your father the fact that you were jot only dating, but fucking the boy who he labeled as "trouble".
He gives you a wink and then you watch as he disappears out your window while you start to fall asleep with a big smile on your face.
#it 2017#the bowers gang#patrick hockstetter#patrick hockstetter imagine#patrick hockstetter x reader#patrick hockstetter smut#owen teague
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Sinful Thoughts (Michael Langdon X Reader) Part 2
click here for part 1 // tag list: (sorry if I forgot anyone!) @fuckthatfeeling @shado-cat @hxdesworld @the-captain-kidd @mrs-langdxn @natalielivesformusic
plot: you’re the epitome of a good christian girl. michael langdon intends to ruin that.
warnings: fem!Reader, high school au, fingering, michael is kind of a dick in this but in a hot way, u get finger fucked in a janitor’s closet oopsy😋
word count: 3.6k
i.
“Forgive me father, for I have sinned.”
Your voice sounded foreign, like you were listening to yourself talk from another room. You swallowed a sudden wave of nausea as you waited for the priest to reply from behind the screen. “And how is it that you have sinned, my child?” The man’s voice was patient and calm. It didn’t make you feel any better.
You let out a shuddery sigh before responding. “I’ve been having bad thoughts. Sinful thoughts, father. Desires of the flesh...”
“I see. And have you succumbed to any of these thoughts?”
“No,” you said. Not yet, anyway. You considered this answer to only be a half-truth, as recently you’d been finding yourself grinding against your chair absentmindedly in class, watching that awful blond boy from across the room. You hadn’t touched yourself to any thoughts, at least not voluntarily, but you had a sneaking feeling that you were very, very close to breaking.
The last straw had been this morning. You’d been preoccupied in class, as usual, eyes glazed over as images of Michael Langdon’s hands danced in your mind, when suddenly there was a hollow pit in your stomach. You’d jumped to your feet and hurried to the girl’s bathroom, immediately holing yourself up in a stall to squeeze your thighs together and will away the thoughts that were bringing you closer and closer to your breaking point.
Once you’d managed to coax the feeling away, you bowed your head and recited a few prayers. God had to be testing your will— that was the only explanation you could think of that made any sort of sense. You’d always had such remarkable self-control, but you could feel it dwindling with every lude thought that crossed your mind. You had to admit, though: divine test or not, you were beginning to frighten yourself.
“Good, my child. Now recite three Hail Marys and you shall be forgiven.”
Your face fell. “Seriously? What am I supposed to do about this? I mean, I can’t think about anything but this one boy!”
The priest’s voice suddenly assumed a tone that was far more casual than wise and all-knowing. “Honestly, kid, there’s a lot worse things than having a couple dirty thoughts every now and then.”
You went slack-jawed, staring at the shadowy figure of the priest with disbelief. Was he really being serious? Did he really not have any kind of solution to offer for your problem? You huffed, discouraged, and without another word you left the confessional booth, letting the door slam shut behind you. Maybe he’s right, came a hopeful whisper in your mind. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you just touched a little...
You shook your head as if to erase the thought like an etch-a-sketch. No way. You couldn’t. You’d gone your whole life without giving in to your desires, so why start now? It’s a test, you told yourself firmly. God is testing me.
You pushed open the double doors of the church and walked into the parking lot, the sky navy blue and sprinkled with stars. You sighed, walking briskly as you started the fifteen minute journey home.
You’d hoped that going to the confessional would make you feel better, or enlighten you somehow. Instead, it had only heightened your confusion and distress. You pulled your jacket tighter to you as a soft breeze blew your hair back, footsteps erratic on the sidewalk as you hoped to shorten your walk through the cold.
Crunch. You stopped so suddenly you nearly lost your balance, whipping around as your heart jumped in your throat. It sounded as if somebody had stepped on a dead leaf on the ground behind you, but you’d been certain you were alone.
The sidewalk was empty. Not even a car was in sight. You scanned the premises anxiously before turning back around, quickening your pace. It was all in your head, you told yourself. You only made it a few more yards before you were interrupted again, this time by the sound of scurrying behind you, so clear there was no way you could’ve imagined it. You stopped, mumbling a desperate prayer and stroking your necklace, before gingerly turning around.
Nothing. The streets and sidewalk were empty. The streetlights cast eerie shadows down the uneven cement, overgrown with weeds and grass, but there was nobody there. What the hell? You thought, before scolding yourself for swearing.
You let out a panicked whimper, your body numbing from a mixture of fear and cold, and reluctantly you turned back around. You took in an indulgent breath, counting to three in your head before exhaling. It’s all in your head. It’s all in your head. It’s all-
You let out a strangled scream as a gloved hand found its way over your mouth, your body being pulled into a makeshift alley between two parallel fences. Immediately you were pressed hard against the old, splintering wood behind you, your flailing limbs tamed effortlessly by your assailant.
Then you heard a laugh. A very familiar laugh, at that. Your attacker removed his hand from your mouth, taking a step back, and even though it was dark you could recognize those angular features.
“Michael, what the- what the hell is wrong with you?” You managed, and you watched him grin at your natural reluctance to swear. A tear dropped from the corner of your eye and slid down your cheek, which you quickly wiped away with the back of your sleeve.
“I was going for a walk when I saw you, and I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”
“The opportunity to make me think I was about to be raped? Or murdered?” Your words came out at much more of a shrill pitch than you’d intended, and your body continued to shake from the leftover terror.
“Shhh,” he cooed, reaching a leather-clad hand to your jaw and tenderly wiping away the tears that continued to spill, forming dark spots on the front of your sweater. Even though you glared at Michael with contempt, that dreaded sinking feeling returned in your stomach upon having his hand against your skin.
“Don’t touch me,” you said, crossing your arms in front of you protectively.
“You say that,” he began, that stupid smirk giving way across his perfect lips, “but your thoughts are sending me a very different message.”
“You don’t know what I’m thinking.”
“Hm,” he laughed dryly, thumb still working away the glassy stains on your skin. Then he brought his face close to yours, so close that his words caused the hair on the back of your neck to stand on end. “Tell me about your dream.”
You gaped at him. He couldn’t possibly be talking about...? “What dream?”
He shook his head, appearing somewhat annoyed with you. “When will you accept that I know everything about you, (y/n)? Your thoughts, desires, dreams.” You faltered under the weight of his stare, unsure if your lack of motion was due to some sort of supernatural hold, or your own free will. “So, (y/n),” he said, lips brushing your ear and making you shiver. “Tell me about the dream you had.”
“You’re crazy,” you said, pressing yourself as far back against the fence as you could in a feeble attempt to escape his presence. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“So you don’t remember? Waking up with your panties soaked through? Using every last shred of strength to stop yourself from touching that one part of you that’s off-limits.” You blinked at him, and again came that ache beneath your undergarments, demanding your attention.
“You remember.” He placed his fingers under your chin and tilted it upwards. “Don’t you?”
You nodded, an act of betrayal against yourself. “How did- how could you know?” you stammered, shallow breaths escaping you as you fought to keep your composure.
“I’m more powerful than any god you could ever dream of,” he told you, lifting one hand to your hair and petting it.
“That’s a lie.”
He tilted his head to one side, lips twitching upwards at the corners. He was loving this, the way you studied his every move with fear and lust behind your eyes. He darted his tongue out and ran it along his bottom lip, and you nearly whined at the way the moisture glinted in the dark. “But it isn’t, (y/n), and you know it isn’t.”
You glared at him, all at once frustrated with yourself for playing into his games, and without a second thought your palm was hot against his cheek, his skin icy from the nighttime chill. Your eyes wide, you brought your quivering hand back to your side, immediately regretting what you’d done. In the low light, you could almost swear his eyes were entirely black, glossy like a raven’s wings.
“Hail Mary, full of grace, our lord is with thee,” you choked, afraid. “Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, J-J-“ You gasped for air, realizing that your throat was being constricted as your body inched upwards against the fence. Michael’s hands, however, weren’t touching you; your feet left the ground and you continued upwards as if by magic, dragged by an invisible force that also managed to prevent you from breathing.
“M-Mi-Michael,” you begged, your hands grasping senselessly at your throat. “P-pl-“ your mouth opened and closed frantically as your legs dangled uselessly below you.
He chuckled to himself before casually flicking his wrist, and suddenly you dropped back onto the ground, chest heaving as you took in a gulp of much needed air. Waves of blond hair falling over his face as he bent over to reach your level, he spoke with a twinge of sadistic amusement. “Are you ready to submit?”
All you could do was look at him, entirely speechless, and his lips curved up into a triumphant grin. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow, (y/n).”
Without another word, he strode out of the alley and into the night, leaving you alone to deal with your thoughts.
ii.
All morning at school that next day, you compulsively checked the clock with a lump in your throat. Your stomach was unable to stop its incessant churning as you anticipated your inevitable crossing of paths with Michael later that day. You couldn’t shake the feelings of fear- fear for what he was, as it was blatantly apparent to you now that he wasn’t fully human- and arousal, and the combination of the two emotions was intoxicating.
You knew it wouldn’t be long before you unraveled in the palms of his ring-clad hands. There was just something about him that you couldn’t shake, and you thought maybe it’d be better for everyone if you just gave in to your desires.
You hated that you’d been brought to the point of nearly giving up- you’d been so strong until you met him. What was it about him that was powerful enough to change you?
When the time came to go to biology, you were forced to evaluate your options: the first was showing up and pretending like nothing was wrong, even though you knew Michael would be reading your thoughts all the same. The other was the more cowardly option- hiding out in a secluded part of the school while skipping the class altogether.
Michael would know that he’d won if you didn’t show up for class, something so out of character for someone as studious as you. You knew this. But wouldn’t he know either way that he’d gotten under your skin? He already seemed to be in tune with your every thought. Was there even any use pretending that you hadn’t been affected by him?
In the end, you wound up finding yourself hidden out in the janitor’s closet, knees drawn to your chest as you scrolled through your phone. Sure, it was the easy way out. But you were beginning to suspect that there would be no escaping Michael whether or not you went to class.
Sitting awkwardly amongst the mops and cleaning supplies, your heart jumped as the doorknob began jiggling gently.
You bit your bottom lip. You knew who was behind that door. It’d already been on the back of your mind that Michael might know where to find you, but your teeth began chattering in apprehensive excitement all the same. You watched the lock turn by itself- again, you’d known there was the chance that he could bypass whatever obstacles you put between the two of you. Every time he proved his supernatural powers to be more than a figment of your imagination, though, it managed to surprise you.
The lock clicked, and then the door was opening, a thin stream of light from the fluorescent-lit hallways cutting through the dimness of the closet. And then there was Michael with his beautiful hair and black jacket and expensive pants, towering over you as you became engulfed in his shadow.
He looked at you wryly, taking a step inside and shutting the door sensibly behind himself. “Is there a reason you’re in a dusty closet instead of biology class?”
Your fingers thoughtlessly traced your cross necklace for what seemed like the thousandth time that week, even though you knew it wouldn’t help you now. “You know why I’m here, Michael,” you said grudgingly.
“Why don’t you tell me?” he said, and you rolled your eyes. This was all a part of his plan to ruin you, having you swallow your last ounce of pride to admit that you were afflicted by him.
“I thought you knew everything,” you said sarcastically as he leaned forward and offered you his hand.
“Oh, believe me, (y/n), I do,” he said, helping you to your feet after you placed your hand in his. “I just want to hear you say it.”
He came closer to you, hips swinging slightly as he took his usual long, leisurely strides. Your back hit the dusty shelves, shaking something loose- there was a soft crash as something scattered across the floor, but you hardly noticed, too busy fixating on Michael as he closed in on his prey. Rolling his neck slightly, he licked his lips; his eyes were dark and glinted with a carnivorous sort of hunger.
“Fine,” you said loudly, resenting the way he regarded you so smugly. “I’m here because I couldn’t bring myself to face you. Because you make me want to do bad things. Un-Christian things. Happy?”
“Now, how hard was that?” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, blinking innocently. “Tell me what you want,” he said, his tone gentle but authoritative, fingers trailing down your cheeks and ghosting your jaw.
“You know what I want,” you murmured, looking down as your face flushed with shame. Was he really going to make you say it?
Of course he was going to. You shouldn’t have expected any sort of mercy from someone like Michael Langdon. He was eating this up, thriving on your weakness. And for some reason, as ashamed as you were to admit it, that raw, domineering power only made your center throb harder with want.
“Look at me,” he commanded calmly, so low you almost thought you’d imagined it. You obeyed, shuddering as his eyes seared invasively into yours. “Tell me what you want, and you can have it.”
“I want-“ you began, pausing to gather your bearings. “I want you to touch me.” You hardly registered the words as your own; it felt like you were outside of your body, watching helplessly from afar as you eagerly allowed Michael Langdon to strip you of your remaining dignity.
“That’s it,” he said, lowering his hand to toy with the hem of your skirt. “Let go of everything. Give yourself to me.” He hiked up your skirt to your waist, and you could only imagine how crude this scene would look to an observer as he rolled your nude colored pantyhose down to your knees. You whimpered, barely noticing the way the shelf behind you dug painfully into your back.
“Where do you want to be touched?” he asked, making you groan in exasperation. Wasn’t the fact that you were submitting to him enough? Why did he need to further humiliate you?
“Please,” you breathed, but he only shook his head at you, no sign of sympathy in his stoic gaze. “Michael.”
Your hand shot forward and gripped his wrist, tugging it desperately towards your dripping core. He seemed pleasantly surprised at this, and seemed to be rewarding your boldness when he starred to rub circles over the thin fabric of your underwear. You moved your hand to grip his forearm, hissing as he applied hard pressure to your aching clit.
“Your underwear is completely soaked through,” he remarked, sliding his hand up to the waistband and snapping it hard against your lower stomach. “Have I always made you this wet?”
You knew he expected an answer from you, freezing in place as he waited for your reply. He could probably continue this for hours if he wanted to, just destroying you bit by bit. You gulped and nodded quickly, hoping that would suffice as an answer to his question.
He worked your underwear down to your knees, bunching it alongside your pantyhose. Next you felt his dress shoes nudging between your flats, urging you to spread your legs apart. You complied, his fingers stroking your upper leg and dipping into the juices that had begun to dribble down your inner thighs.
When he’d coated a sufficient amount on his fingers, he lifted them to your lips; you parted them obediently and he slipped them into your mouth. You wrapped your lips around them, moaning wantonly at the taste of your wetness combined with the salty flavor of his skin.
“Who would’ve known that the sweet little Christian girl would turn out to be such a needy slut?” he mused, removing his fingers from your mouth to trace them lightly over your swollen clit. “Good girl,” he praised, dragging his moist fingers over your entrance before easing them inside your tight walls. You whined, grinding your hips down as you felt yourself being stretched out for the first time in your life. It was exquisite, the way he felt inside you, and you couldn’t believe you’d been denying yourself this for so long.
He started out torturously slow, allowing you to get used to the feeling of his fingers inside you before increasing the intensity. When you’d been properly stretched out, he thrusted harshly upwards, forcing a gasp from your lips as your vision blurred. Your eyes fluttered shut and his pace quickened, his fingers expertly reaching and working at your deepest points with each vigorous thrust of his wrist. Your arms braced his neck, holding him close to you in case he might change his mind, decide to leave you high and dry. The thought of that alone made you want to sob.
“That’s it,” he said, aligning his thumb with your clit and tracing shapes over it firmly. “Allow yourself to forget everything but the pleasure.” You were one step ahead of him, your mind already blanking out as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, thumb pushing against your sensitive bundle of nerves without mercy. You cried out, muscles tensing as you realized you were about to have your very first orgasm, and for the first time you understood, really understood, the reason people touched themselves, had sex before marriage. What was so goddamned sinful about wanting release?
You rocked your hips forward, your walls clenching around him, and he stopped, fingers remaining inside you and thumb hovering just over your clit. You whined, rolling your hips against his hand, but he moved his hand with your body, not allowing you to take more than he was willing to give. “Tell me,” he ordered, knowing very well you knew what he meant.
“Michael, please,” you pleaded, wiping away a bead of sweat that was traveling down your forehead. “Don’t do this, I- I need this-”
He hummed softly, just barely sweeping his thumb over your clit, pulling it away before you could buck your hips towards him. “You need what, (y/n)? I need to hear you say it before I can give it to you.”
“Make me come, Michael, I need to come,” you blurted, blinking back tears which wobbled precariously over the rim of your eyes. You saw him grin, and then your vision blurred as he resumed massaging circles roughly against your bud, fingers stretching apart inside you before pounding hard against your spongey walls.
“Oh my- oh my god,” you sighed, too wrapped up in your ecstasy to care about using the lord’s name in vain. All you cared about in this moment was Michael and his beautiful hand turning you inside out, giving you what you’d been yearning for so desperately. He curled his fingers inside you and that was it- you orgasmed, a tsunami of pure, sinful bliss washing over you, and you made sure your face was buried in his shoulder to muffle the shrieks that you simply could not stifle.
You laid your head there while he slipped his fingers out of you, wiping the excess moisture over your protruding outer lips. Mindlessly brushing away a strand of his perfect hair from his neck, you opened your eyes with a contented hum, still too flustered from your orgasm to think clearly.
And then you almost screamed.
Suddenly you had all the answers you’d been looking for. You knew for certain now who he was, why he had such seemingly supernatural powers that both frightened and compelled you. It was remarkable, you thought, that you hadn’t realized it sooner.
Below his ear, etched in reddened, raised flesh, was a number.
6-6-6.
#michael langdon#michael langdon smut#michael langdon imagine#cody fern#ahs apocalypse#apocalypse#ahs smut#ahs imagines#mine#ahs#american horror story
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