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“Bossy. I like it. But you know what I like more? Your posh little accent. Question. Does it sound the same when you say crude things?”
Once, a girl was like, “Choke me, Daddy,” and I nearly killed her. In my defense, she didn’t specify how hard I should choke her, so I went with the flow—the flow being maximum violence.
Another guy sent me a text saying, “Are you looking for a doormat? Because you can step on me any day and I’d bend over and take it.” So I did just that and stepped on him. What? He asked for it and, I kid you not, he jizzed all over my room. Then he did bend over and took it.
would’ve preferred
“Nope.” I push back. “He’s straighter than straight.” “Thanks?” Jer mutters. “That wasn’t a compliment.” He releases that defeated sigh again. “What’s going on, Niko?”
“You’ve always fucked women, but have you done that because you feel you have to due to peer pressure and what’s defined by society as normal or because you want to?”
“What is this about?” He stands up. “What did you hear?” “What should I have heard?” His face falls for a fraction of a second and I step into his space. “So? What? Tell me. Tell me! What should I have heard?”
On a scale of straighter-than-straight Jer to fluid-as-lube Kill to confused-as-shit Gareth, I wonder where Brandon King falls. Not that I’m tempted to find out. That would be crazy.
Just kidding. I am crazy.
Women are soft and pliant and should be worshipped. Men are to be used. Who am I kidding? Both are to be used.
Stop thinking about Brandon and dick. They obviously don’t mesh.
“Oh cool, you remember! Nice to officially meet you, Brandon. Or, hold on! I actually found you a perfect nickname. Lotus flower. You know, because you managed to bloom so beautifully while surrounded by the muddy swamp that is Landon. Isn’t that so fucking poetic?”
“Don’t run away from me, lotus flower. This is the second time you’ve done it, the third if we count the initiation. I’m kinda hurt.”
“You need to stop cutting yourself off mid-sentence. The suspense is killing me. You’re playing a bit hard to get, Prince Charming, but I’m all over that shit. Fight me. Fight me. Fucking fight me!”
Back off. Step away from me. Do not touch me. Remove your unpleasant presence from my vicinity.
Who the fuck are you, Clara, and what’s your favorite way to die?
The guy who will take my cock between his lips and thank me for it, that’s who.
It’s me ;) Nikolai, in case the handle didn’t give me away. Wanna hang out? Like friends? Ok, that was a lie. Being friends wouldn’t work since you’re such a delight to be around. All standoffish and grumpy and shit. The exact opposite of fun. We could have a drink?
*GIF of a bored kid tapping the table* We can do this all day, Prince Charming. Love talking to your inbox. What a fucking thrill. Why do you always use the same hashtag? Is there a meaning behind that? Why do you play lacrosse? Can you send me your playlists that you listen to all the time? Not really into rock, but I love discovering new music. Also, isn’t rock too extreme for your prim-and-proper image? Not that I’m judging. I actually dig the contradiction. Kinda makes it fun to try and figure you out. Why did you want to become an artist?
Aren’t you too uptight to be into something that requires people to let go of their creativity? Or are you different when painting? Please tell me you do that half naked. It’s blasphemous to hide beautiful bodies, you know. Want to exchange numbers? Here’s mine XXXXXXXX. Hello, lotus flower’s inbox, lovely to see you again this evening. You looked hot today. Not that I’m hitting on you or anything since you’re sooo straight. Let’s consider this my hopeless one-sided crush on a straight guy. You don’t have to reciprocate. Unless you want to *eyebrow wiggle emoji* *sunglasses emoji*
Yup. All good. My texts are still sitting prettily in here. Will check again later to make sure.
Stop bugging me or I’ll block you.
“Heard Kill nearly got killed. See what I did there? Also, whose head do I have to cut from their body, rip the flesh from, and hang on a stick—”
“Get over yourself.” He’s looking ahead like a fucking robot. “I’m here for my sister and her boyfriend.” “Tomayto, tomahto. Wanna have that tour anyway?” “No.” “How about dinner?” “No.” “A drink?” “No.” “Do you have another word in your monosyllabic asshole vocabulary tonight?”
“Are you allergic to shirts or something? Why are you always half naked?” “Because I look fucking awesome and it’s a pity to hide it. Also, does this mean you were checking me out?” “Nonsense. It’s impossible to miss your constant state of nudity.”
“Listen to me, you thick fucker. I’ve been tolerating your nonsense for far too long, but enough is enough. You’re not my peer, friend, or anything in between. So crawl back into your hole and stop being in my fucking space or I will crush you.”
“Talk dirty to me, baby.”
“That’s what she calls you, right? Baby. No, it’s the less glamorous version. Babe. Tell me the truth, did you get a boner because you were kissing her or because I got an erection for you? It’s not good form to look at a guy’s hard-on when you’re kissing your girlfriend, don’t you think?”
“Mmm. I love the sound of my name on your lips. Say it again, baby.” “I’m going to fucking kill you.”
“Tell me more. I’m getting all hot and bothered with your foreplay. I love it when you curse, baby.”
“You want to know what I think, lotus flower? I think you were fighting your goddamn demons to kiss her. The deeper you went, the more forced it looked. The longer you had your mouth against hers, the more burdened you looked, so it’s safe to say you weren’t hard because of her.”
“Shut your fucking mouth,”
“Your bossiness turns me the fuck on, baby,”
“But you didn’t get hard for Clara, did you, baby?”
“I can always test it real quick.”
“Or what, baby?” “Nikolai, if you don’t stop, so help me God, I will…” “What? You’re leaving me in suspense again, baby.”
“I told you not to touch me, you disgusting prick.”
“I told you I’d beat you the fuck up if you said that again. Get the fuck out of my face, hypocrite.”
