pov you are my brother and i's youth pastor circa 2014 when he called us The Sisters and then unprompted corrected himself to The Brothers and then said "i don't know. you could be anything!" in a room full of baptist teenagers
Part I ; Part II ; Part III ; Part IV ; Part V ; Part VI
Trapped in a basement with Eric and a maniacal vampire, waiting on Pam to save the night.
Warnings: needles and torture
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I ended up in the basement, where Eric had been held seemingly the entire time, silver chained to a leather padded chair. He looked limp, his massive body slumped back.
But, upon hearing me enter, he jumped awake, and tensed up with strenght he didn't look like he had left. He was suddenly menacing as ever, muscles bulging, veings swelling, tendons pulling under the skin. Though his skin was papery white, and his eyes were red and sunken, he still looked otherworldly attractive. Stupidly, that was some of what I was thinking. And I was glad to see him alive.
Eric hissed at the vampire as he tied me into a similar chair, wrists and ankles, all in silver, not to any effect. The vampire looked Eric in the eye. "Pray, Mr. Northman, save your strength, you'll need it."
"You don't know who you're up against." Was Eric's retort.
"Pardon me for this... observation, you are a guest in my home, I shouldn't be so blunt to you, but you provoke me. Are you so dense? Or just distracted by the damsel, that you can't tell I'm older than you? Maybe not by more than a century, but, I assure you, the things I saw in those decades, were far fiercer than any little viking rampage you were told of as a bedtime story." He giggled at his own joke. Tucked his chin in his chest, like a kid.
He believed he was telling the truth, maybe he was even right. Maybe he was stronger than Eric.
"Don't talk about me while I'm gone. The room is surveilled anyway, I'll know." He winked and left through the thick plastic curtain that separated that room from the rest of the basement.
"Still glad you stayed back?" Eric smirked, now that we were 'alone'. He leaned back again, to save his strength, and he again looked dead... -er.
"Wouldn't change a thing..." I shook my head at him.
"Good. Glad to see you're holding strong. Now listen." He began whispering so gently, I could barely just hear, I was sure no mic would pick that up. "I can't protect you now, so here's what you'll do - you'll sit there quietly, won't look him in the eyes, or provoke him. Let him focus on me." A chill went down my spine. I hadn't doubted that he would defend me, but hearing it aloud from him, in his state, was sobering. Suddenly, danger felt very near and very real, and Eric seemed fallible for the first time.
I could only shake my head, and he looked disapprovingly back, but had no time to argue, because we were joined once again by that vampire.
He floated in with unsettling calm, gloved hands held folded at chest level, but anticipating something was coming couldn't have prepared me for what did come.
Too fast for my eyes to perceive the motion, he wedged a tiny silver needle beneath one of Eric's fingernails. I heard his grunting before I noticed the little point of the needle catching the light from underneath his pointer finger nail.
"What the fuck?" I breathed out. Eric was masking the pain, but it was clear, to me, that it was intense.
"How does she read your mind?" The vampire asked of Eric.
Eric exhaled a shaky laugh. And left it at that.
The vampire pulled the needle out very slowly and held it against the dangling, naked light bulb above his head.
Then he ran it across Eric cheek, making a tiny red burn line, so thin, it was healing as it was being traced. The vampire lowered his feet to the ground. That couldn't be good. He could then thump his steps, as he waked behind Eric's chair and placed his hand on his forehead, forcing his head back. He was making sure I could see the needle point approach Eric's clear blue eye ball. I knew it would probably heal and that it'd be fine. But I didn't want to see it, and I didn't want Eric to feel it.
"Fine. You want to know, I'll tell you."
"She's bluffing. She's got nothing to tell you, she's just some girl who works in my bar." Eric interjected. It didn't convince him.
"Pray, let me know how you do it. Just note that, if you are 'bluffing', I will not hesitate to kill Mr Northman."
"Clearly."
"No, really." The vampire perked up. "I would love nothing more than to watch on the security camera, as the sunrise reduces him to ashes. Truly, that would be a sight to behold. One so old? The flames would be deliciously colored. And you too would get to watch. And I envy you. Screens can't render that kind of thing truthfully. You would get a front row seat." he started to laugh. "I have never had as easy a time getting someone to break as you. I didn't even get to warm up. You're young, it's true. But still. I haven't had to touch you. Now, tell me, come on." He gestured flamboyantly with his hand, as he rolled the needle between his pointer finger and thumb.
Eric's gaze was a warning. I knew exactly how it would play out, as soon as I said it. But I believed every word this vampire had said, and so I felt I had really no choice. "It's my blood."
"So it is? Elaborate." He urged me on, gesturing with the needle like a musical conductor.
"It's when he drinks it that I can see his thoughts." I said, looking off into the distance, not wanting to read either of their faces anymore.
"Excellent. How wonderful. You, my dear, have, I am afraid, just signed your own sentence. You are going to be so useful to me, you have no clue. But fret not. Mr Northman won't be wasted either. He is evidently a very important tool in making you compliant. He is going to be as incremental as you are." He said petting Eric's hair now. Eric was not concerned by this, he seemed to not even register it. His apathy radiated all the way to me. I had handled situations poorly in my life, but this time, I had dug a truly deep pit for us to crawl out of. No guarantee we would.
The vampire came near me and, disposing of one glove with his teeth, ran his hand along the veins on my inner forearm, a sort of caress. Or the opposite of that. I would have crawled out of my skin if I could have, my body was revolting, and tensing, flashing both hot and cold.
I didn't feel I deserved anything from Eric at that point, but I didn't know where else to take my gaze, so I locked eyes with him. He wasn't angry anymore, or wasn't showing it, he wasn't afraid, wasn't disappointed, the sight of his eyes was the still point of my spinning mind. Eric held my gaze, as though he were holding my hand.
In the meantime, the vampire punctured a vein on my inner arm with his silver needle, and drew a drop of blood to sit on the surface of the skin. He looked at it longingly. He was ready to lick the blood, but that had to wait, because loud, erratic voices flooded the basement. It was their security men, coming to warn him about something clearly urgent, they were spitting a number back and forth, "code five.", "code five?", "code five!". Code five must've been bad, but how much worse could it get?
Eric perked up, cautiously.
The vampire came to grab my shoulders, as he tried to explain to his men how important it was that they take me with them, since it was already decided the building had to be evacuated. He was also making the case for Eric's being shipped along, since they needed him to torture, to keep me in check, etc, etc. It was a wild thing, to be negotiated over like this. Negotiated over, in a literal sense, because they were shouting in each other's faces, as they leaned above my head. My ears were full of noise, that I was fighting to drown out, so it somehow took me a few moments to realize, when it stopped. The human who had left my ears ringing had been yanked from my vicinity, and was being punched around by a different man. Probably because of the ringing in my ears, it took me even longer to realize that the two men were not of the same side. One could say they were uniformed differently, but that takes a level of discernment more sophisticated than mine, at that moment. Both black combat outfits, both in bulletproof vests, somewhat different.
As more men invaded the tiny room, I started to search around for the vampire. I couldn't spot him in the multitude of struggles going at once, and then a man hit, head first, the concrete floor at my feet, and I forgot why I even cared where the vampire was, when, clearly, more important things were unfolding. My view of Eric had also been obstructed, but I had begun to theorize that these were his men, since I sat tied to a chair in the middle of a minuscule indoor battle field, and I wasn't being so much as shoved.
This only lasted a short time. Soon enough, the victors, the invading group, presumably our rescue, had finished rendering unconscious our kidnappers, and were convening around us, to where I could see Eric again. They parted to make room for the slow, pointed footsteps of Pamela. Wearing stilettos, even in action, she stopped in the mid space between our torture chairs, and crossed her arms, preparing for a dramatic moment, which she had undoubtedly earned.
"If it isn't my maker, and his pet human." She sounded extremely self satisfied. And it was music to my ears. Normalcy, at last.
Eric closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief, he relaxed back into the chair, to look up at his progeny. Pride was radiating off his face.
Pam's icy demeanor melted fast, whatever gloating stance she had choreographed didn't seem a priority anymore. Equipped with black leather gloves, as she was, she tore Eric's restraints off.
He quickly stood up, looking down on her, he cradled her face in his hands. They took each other in, as her eyes were starting to well up. He hid her face against his chest, stroked her long hair, with smooth, gentle motions, not caring about the discomfort of the men in the room, as they waited to be instructed further.
Pam eventually became conscious of them, however, so she pulled away and smoothed the ends of her hair down. "I was up all day, tracking you down, of course I have the bleeds." She pretended to cover her ear with her hand.
Eric instructed someone to untie me. I didn't have much feeling in my feet or hands. He pulled me up, and, as though he sensed it, held me to lean against his side.
There was a cloudiness to our minds, since there were many things none of us were processing in that moment. We failed to question where the vampire had disappeared to. Or how he had done it. I had forgotten that the old man even existed, despite maybe being the only one of us who ever knew it. And I had failed to take in, at that first point of reunion, how good it felt to hold Eric again.
I started to imagine how glad I'd be whenever I finally regained the privilege to see myself out of a room, but, until then, there was the New Blood escort that cleared the premises and proceeded to lead us outside. Not to be ungrateful, but I was becoming very people adverse.
Then the high of seeing the outdoors kicked in, the sense of urgency, the oppressive atmosphere of that house, they were lost and forgotten, we didn't seem to know what to do with ourselves. Leaving had sounded like the obvious highlight of the evening, but then came the urge to stand around and contemplate.
"We should burn it down." Eric murmured to himself. "Fucking secret organizations." I chuckled and, only then realizing what he had said and how it sounded, he did too. A genuine, radiant laugh, crinkling the skin around his eyes.
Pam was approaching, somewhere behind us, arms crossed. She was impatient to leave.
"Pam." Eric called out. He didn't seem to need to see where she was at a given time, he either heard her, or sensed her presence.
"What?"
"Get me some gasoline, would you?"
She sighed, but made to leave anyway.
"And matches!"
She gestured with her hand as to say she knew.
Pam herself didn't return, but a man provided Eric with what he asked for, and he nodded to me, to follow him. We approached the house again, and ascended the front steps, for the last time. Eric kicked the front door open and splashed the gasoline inside, all across the pristine polished floor. When the canister was empty, he nonchalantly tossed it in, and handed me the match box.
"You do the honors."
I struck a match, took a step back and tossed it in. Flames rose instantly. We descended the stairs and took some distance. The entire entry hall was ablaze by then, and pieces of plaster were collapsing, to feed the flames, the white walls, already tainted by smoke, the glass covering the paintings bursting, the flowers withering.
Eric was watching the fire, I was watching him. His face illuminated in flickering orange, his eyes piercing as ever, but still very troubled. He didn't look like someone enjoying himself, despite having been set free, and getting to watch the house succumb to the flames.
"Would you like a ride back, or should we just leave you here? Should I have brought a blanket for you to..."
"Pam." Eric sighed and turned to his progeny. He outstretched his arm to her. I took a step back, but he pulled me in as well, he tucked me under his arm, and pulled Pam under the other. He stood with us both a while, in silence. He kissed the top of Pam's head, his mind still elsewhere. She was beyond happy to be reunited with Eric, on the other hand, and saw no reason to continue dwelling.
"I really did mean it, they will leave us here, if we don't hurry to the car." Pam couldn't, or didn't want to conceal the tremor in her voice, but she wouldn't bring herself to say anything nicer than that either.
"You two go ahead, make them wait for me, I will be a minute."
When Eric showed up, he hopped into one of the cars, not making eye contact with anyone. "What are you waiting for? Aren't we leaving?" That was as good a time as any to depart, the burning of the house, though cathartic in its own way, would, in fairness, never bring the closure we wanted. It would never answer our questions of why, it wouldn't reveal who those people were, or where they went, it wouldn't do anything to restore our sense of safety. I had no idea how we would sleep that day.
All that uncertainty hung over the car ride. No one seemed to want to speak, or listen to the radio. We stared at the country side passing us by, the wild vegetation lit by nothing but headlights on this moonless night, looking dry and thorny. The only sounds, those of the road, the tires on the asphalt, the engine, my and the driver's breathing. I hoped it would be a healing sort of silence.
Pamela was observing Eric with concern, there were things she wanted to talk to him about, preferably without me there, but I wasn't the only obstacle. Eric was very much inwardly focused, holding his hands tightly interlaced, to rest his chin on. She complied with this, for maybe an hour, then, when she could take it no longer, she layed her hand on his back, smoothing over his wrinkled top. She didn't say anything, though.
"There are more of them out there. Those two, they weren't acting alone." Eric murmured suddenly.
"Does that mean what I think it does?" Pam retorted with great exasperation, almost whining, if she were one to do that.
"We have to find the others, we have a responsibility. To put the word out, to investigate, to end this... whatever it is."
Pam took her hand back and leaned into the headrest, "If you so wish."
Eric met my eyes. His expression was humorless, exhausted, I could only guess that I looked much the same, probably worse.
"This is not your fight." He looked out the window briefly, then turned back. "You are free to go wherever you want, I will make sure you have anything you need, if you-"
"I would like to stay, if that's alright."
Eric's reaction was extremely restrained, but he looked happy not to have to finish his sentence. He nodded, and seeing this, interpreting it as an acknowledgement, as acceptance, Pam closed her eyes and brought her hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "I know I'm thrilled."
#The only reason they didn't kiss on the lips is because the show would have been CANCELED down if they did.
wait. really? do you have a source on that? never heard of this before
😓 This is embarrassing for me but you’re right, I have no idea where I got this information and it definitely could be false. I’m not saying it’s not true at all, but I have read so much about Falsettos that my brain definitely could have blended multiple pieces of information together to get this conclusion when it isn’t true.
However, I will say that the decision to have them never kiss seems very deliberate (especially when you think of the whole “the approach as if to kiss” line) which would be very unusual unless same-sex kissing was actively being censored on Broadway.
Pls.pls.pls if requests are still open and if you feel like it, I need more Norman Jayden🥲man's frustratingly underrated (like wth?)
yes yes yes!! thats what im saying!!! i love him so much why is hr such a niche fandom >:( p.s excuse this being an unfinished kinktober draft from last year yikes :sob:
tags: m!sub, smut, canon deviance. intox / drug play (tw!), car sex, creampie, use of triptocaine, i think thats it :P
🌧️—
The gravel on the road rattled under the wheels of his car as he drove down the backroads. A laser-focused glare, his hands twitching on the steering wheel as he tried to focus. A light pang of guilt, a grim frown. He pulled off to the side, hidden behind fences and facing train tracks. The slight sludging sound of the car’s wheels sinking into the mud.
The car came to a slow stop as the rain pittered on the roof, blurring the windows from prying eyes as he fiddled with the blue vial. He groaned, pulling the metal bar under his seat and pushing it all the way back, then pulling me onto his lap.
“Sorry to take you out here.” He mumbled, as his hands brushed up and down my skin. His lips glided across my collarbone with a low groan.
“S’okay.”
“Hotel room ain’t safe f’us..” He trailed off, mouthing softly at my shoulder and neck in an attempt to be apologetically reassuring. His mouth pulled away with a short and shaking inhale, he leaned back and fiddled with the vial.
He opened it with a pop of the lid, one finger pressed against the opposite side of his nose and he gave a sharp inhale, snorting half of the vial and leaning his head back onto the headrest with a shaky sigh. “That’s the stuff.” He mumbled before holding towards me. “You wanna hit?”
I took it from his hand and held it to my nose, inhaling the last half while tilting my head backwards, slumping down into his arms, going partially limp and letting the vile slip out of my hands and onto the floor somewhere to be incriminating evidence at a later date.
“Thank you, baby.” I crooned, leaning into him and letting my lips brush against his neck. He let out a breathy moan and nodded into it, holding me tightly against him.
“Just keep kissin’ me, gorgeous, gotta let it hit.” He rasped out gently, sinking into the seat as I took control. His hands kept running up and down my sides, and he reached down momentarily, spinning the dial for the chair to lay less upright.
He loved the weight, laying down with me on top of him and letting us sink into the chair. He was limp, slumped against the fabric of the carseat. His eyes glazed over as he tried to enjoy the feeling, what little strength he had left he used to support my body that was lazily draped over his.
It only took a few moments to settle in. I sighed, shuffling around to grind into his hips lazily, waiting for the sudden renewal to hit me like a train. His breathing was ragged as he shuffled his hips, unbuckling his belt and trying to tug them down.
“I missed you.” He breathed, tugging at our clothes with a fervour to get them off. His shirt was thrown over the back of the seat and his pants pulled to his thighs, his hands fiddled between the hem of my shirt and my waistband.
I drew my hands to pull down my shorts with a lazily hum. “Missed you.” I lifted my hips, brushing my nose against the top of his head as I kicked the fabric to the floor. “So bad.”
My position made him nuzzle his face into the curve of my chest. His body trembled as he took off my shirt, throwing it in the backseat, and his mouth exploring the expanse of my torso.
My fingers laced through his hair, with a smug grin, his lips wrapped around the nub, earning a choked moan. “Cold?” He hummed, feeling them harden under the rain-clad air. I huffed in dry amusement, reaching behind me to turn on the heat, the air blowing through the car. “Smart.” He mumbled, not disconnecting from the skin.
His fingers danced across the flesh, short groans eliciting from his throat as his mouth stayed preoccupied. He dipped down, rubbing the insides of my thighs before grazing higher, and rubbing two fingers between the folds. His thumb running circles with a hazy look of adoration.
He tilted his face upwards, taking in the look on my face as he sunk his fingers deep, lazy circles on my clit. I nodded blankly, my hands digging into his hair, tugging at the locks to hear the lewd sounds that left his mouth. Both as vocal as the day is long.
“Please, let me fuck you.” He asked softly, his fingers pumping and curling softly, feeling the wetness drip into his palm. “Please.”
His voice was breathless and pitchy like a child about to break into tears, low whispers of pleads filling the air as his fingers curled. My mind was too far away, too distant to fully distinguish the words from the slight ringing in my ears from the perfect way he pushed into my squishy spot that was calling his name.
My nails dug into his shoulders with a vacant nod, and he nodded back slowly. “Come on, say it.” He whispered, needing that vocal permission; “Tell me you’re here, gorgeous.”
“I’m here.” I sighed at his slowed movements, my body slumping slightly and head resting forward on his shoulder. “Yes, you can—” My body tense but languid at the same time, feeling everything all at once jolt through me as my mind ran hurdles to balance it out.
“Yeah?” He breathed with a lopsided grin, taking no time to shimmy his hips into place.
His hand tightly wrapped around his cock as he rubbed the tip between the wetness. His hips bucking as he slid himself up and down. I nodded, watching the way his eyelashes fluttered whenever his needy tip brushed against the entrance.
He slid in with a breathless groan, feeling the warmth, it was almost overwhelming as the chills covered his body. “Oh, fuck.” A small sigh as his body writhed against the seat. He pushed deeper and deeper.
I bit my lip, hovering over him until his hands gripped my waist and pulled me down into his lap. An atypical rhythmic pattern of sloppy movements, moving my hips back and forth, audible grunts drawing from his throat.
My senses slowly started to come back to me, shuffling my knees to his sides and beginning to move myself in time. His throat constricted tightly and silent pants for air were all that were audible as his lips chased mine, but never connecting.
“You feel so good, so damn good.” I praised as I moved my hips so he’d nudge where I wanted him to. “I missed this.”
He vacantly agreed, his hips rolling desperately as he watched me slowly fall and then rise on him, his head lolled to the side as his lips ghosted my skin, my cheek, my jaw, my neck. “God, please use me.” He whined, wanting more, more, more.
I shuffled my knees again to support my weight, my hands on his shoulders as I slowly dragged myself up the space of his cock, then moving down harshly. On each downstroke, the soft tip would roughly hit the spongy spot inside, a blissed out moans from both of us filled the compact space.
His body trembled, his arms loosely draped around my waist and spine, his mind reeling with the bruising pace that shook the car. “You feel so fuckin’ good.” I slurred out, head lolling to the sides like I didn’t have the strength to hold it up. “It’s been too long.”
“Yeah. Has.” He responded simply, words bouncing around his skull in an attempt to form sentences like a DVD screen saver. His back would arch, pressing into me, before he’d slump back down into his comfortably languid state.
“Help..” I whined, pulling at his hands to help me fuck myself on him, my knees buckling at the exhaustion that strung itself through my body. He picked up quickly, his hands digging into the soft skin above my hips, digging his nails in and moving me in time. His body almost perked to activity at the request to do something besides lazily dragging his lips across my skin.
“That’s it, use me to get off, fuck.” A strangled moan dragged from his pink lips, swollen and slightly bruised from the way he tried to muffle himself and tried to press love on my skin. He was half mindless, too content to think; Why would he? His dream girl sitting on his lap, feeling higher than heaven.
The build up was overwhelming yet slow paced — an innate inability to relax enough to feel it due to the way high stakes euphoria spiked every inch of the body between my toes and my fingers.
My fingers dug into his hair and his eyes were glued on me, astonished by the view. A light golden hue in the car from the overhead light, the pitter-patter of rain on the roof, the blowing huff of the heater, and his girl perched on his lap like a prize.
“Fuck me like ‘m a toy, gorgeous.” He whined, jerking his hips to meet my thrusts, his words slurred and coming out like ‘gorjus’, “I’m close.”
His hips jerked in time with my downstrokes, and my hips rolled against his before they separated. The space between our thighs was a sticky mess, and I moaned in agreement. The train tracks rumbled in the distance as I felt elated, like I was floating on air.
My body was taut, my stomach clenched and my pussy squeezing him tightly. He let out a choked groan and I ran my fingers through his hair, cupping his face. “I’m gonna cum—” He warned.
His thighs clenched as he tried to hold it back, but he didn’t stop the tight grip on my waist, I didn’t stop the way I moved on my knees. “Me too.” I whispered. HIs head buried into my neck with a whimper, mouthing at the skin with tender kisses, something to keep his mouth busy to keep himself from the imminent.
His cock twitched as he felt the warm, wet space strangle him, he knew it was close, too close to keep fighting it back, tears pricking his eyes as he let out choked moans. “Where you want it?” He begged, barely able to get out the words.
“Anywhere.”
A sob clawed at his throat. “Please, inside— god, inside, I want it inside.”
He felt the rhythmic pulse around him and his head threw back, thrashing against the headrest with a low groan. The train tracks vibrating, the loudness of its approach counteracting the ringing in my ears as my back arched, my rigid body pulling away from him as I dug my nails into his shoulders as grounding.
The bright light from the larger vehicle riveted into the cabin, a white glow that illuminated him, the jaw slack and knitted brows, arched upwards and creasing his forehead as he tried not to clamp his eyes shut.
“Norm—” Almost silent cries left my throat, muffled by being so close to the tracks, and as the train droned past, he forcibly pulled me into his embrace. He wrapped his arms around my back, pulling me into his chest and burying himself into my neck.
His moans vibrated through me as his hips jerked with vigour, before pushing to the deepest point, “Oh, fuck, I’m—” With that same pitchy whine, stammering wildly, his cockhead twitching as he felt his release wash over him like cold water.
Our bodies melted together, limp and tired, sweaty and engrossed in each others presence. Head resting on each others shoulders as the hum of the heater broke the silence between our pants for air. It was like a sudden crash, hitting all at once and now the exhaustion set it quickly.
“D’ya wanna turn on the radio?” He mumbled awkwardly with a kiss to the shoulder, shuffling his body to keep the embrace. A long silence filled as the 8-track played, the guitar instrumental playing us out as we set ourselves in the embrace, uncaring of the world outside, uncaring of being perceived, and uncaring of the bite the cold air brought.
The return of the Thin White Duke. Throwing darts in lovers’ eyes — here are we, one magical moment. Such is the stuff from where dreams are woven.
