Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Wrong Time, Wrong Place
Don't worry. There's no rape... yet. But there might be soon. Haha. Although it won't really be rape. But I put it in the warning anyway.
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Chapter 2
As we got into the car, I looked at him and then down at my legs. Why was I going on a date with him again? Oh, right, cause he was a charmer and somehow managed to convince me that going on a date with him was a good idea. I kept thinking, as he made his way over to the driver’s seat, that I should get out of the car. He hadn’t even started driving yet. I still had a chance to run.
Yet my body wouldn’t move as he slipped in the other side of the car. He locked the doors and took off. I stared out the window, thinking how much of an idiot I was. I lost my chance to escape. And here I was, in sweats and a white tshirt on my way to a date with a guy who somehow forced me on a date. I was wearing disgusting amounts of makeup and I felt like I was a clown going on a date with a prostitute.
He obviously sensed my hesitation as he slid his hand onto my leg and took my hand with a grin on his lips. And now I was remembering his lips on my ear. ’My dick in your ass.’ I shivered slightly and then he laughed a little, “You okay there, kid?”
I slowly looked over at him, “I’m going on a date with a guy who is planning on stalking me at both of my jobs. I look like a fucking clown who’s been snorting coke for five hours. I don’t know your name and my brain is swirling because you kissed me. So… I don’t really know.”
He was silent and the smile on his lips had faded. I said something wrong, didn’t I? He just stayed quiet. It was a long time before anyone said anything. All I could hear was Marilyn Manson in the background of the car. ‘You’re so pretty when you cry. Don’t wanna hit you but the only thing between our love is: A bloody nose, a busted lip and a blackened eye.’ He finally stopped at a red light and looked at me as I heard the music continue ‘You’re a little pistol and I’m fucking pistol whipped.’ He took a breath, “My name. It’s Brendon. And,” he laughed, “Who said I’m taking you on a date?” he grinned.
Shivers went down my spine and he turned back to the road, “When I undo my belt, you melt and you walk away with a red, red, red welt. You’re a little pistol and I’m fucking pistol whipped,” he sang along. This was so bad. This was going to end so badly. So so badly. Especially with the song about rape playing in the background. He was going to play it while he did it, wasn’t he?
Okay, so maybe I did have a rape fantasy, but I didn’t want to ever actually be raped. And I couldn’t even get out of this right now. I was in the car with him. And he was singing along to this song. He was singing along with a smirk on his lips. I stared at the door handle, debating how badly hurt I’d get if I just opened the door and fell out. I could die. But I didn’t want to get raped.
In the blink of an eye, I grabbed the handle, but the door locked and I slowly looked over at him. He smiled at me in a really eerie way, “Think you’re going somewhere?” oh god. Oh god. Oh god. I didn’t even know what to say anymore. He smiled at me and kept driving, “The more I give to you, the more I die. And I want you. And I want you. And I want you. And I want you. You are the perfect drug, the perfect drug, the perfect drug,” and I had to admit, despite the eeriness of the situation, he was a really good singer.
Why did that even cross my mind? I didn’t know what to do. I wanted out. Everything inside of me was turning to mush. After a few more minutes of his soft eerie singing with the music playing gently in the background, he parked in front of a large house. He got out and slowly walked over to my side. I fumbled around to unbuckle my seat belt. I pushed the door open and was about to run, but he grabbed my wrist. He pulled me into him with a smile, “Think you’re going somewhere?”
I squeaked, “No?”
“Good. Because if you were trying to run away, I wouldn’t let you have a safe word,” he smirked and pulled me into the house. Oh god. So it was what I thought it was. I was going to die. He was going to kill me. He walked past the living room where I saw the owner of the club I worked at sitting. He smiled at him, “Hey there, father.”
“Oh, you brought home another one? Don’t kill this one, Brendon. He’s actually a good asset to my club,” and he went back to doing what he was doing. Brendon only chuckled. My heart sunk down into the pit of my stomach. Oh my god, oh holy shit.
Dear god, please help me. I know I’m not religious or anything, but oh my god, I need you to help me here. I don’t want to die. I really don’t want to die. I’m too young to die. He’s going to kill me. He’s really going to kill me. What did I get myself into? HELP ME! Not that praying was going to do much at this point.
He opened a door and shoved me inside with a grin. He pushed me onto his black and red bed and climbed on top of me, “Now… Time for the restraints,” he grinned, showing off glistening white teeth. And that’s when I noticed them. That’s when I noticed that about him. Oh god. Oh my god. He leaned toward my neck and licked it before he bit down on it lightly. I gasped and squirmed. He grinned even wider, “I love it when you squirm.”
That’s it. I was going to die. I was dead. Cool.
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A/N: This wasn't where I was going with it in the beginning. But as I re-read it, I liked this idea of it. Here are the links to the songs mentioned in previous chapters and in this one.
"The Perfect Drug - Nine Inch Nails":http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hpuu_xODUpo
"Pistol Whipped - Marilyn Manson":http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SeMtOrsWO28
"Heart-Shaped Glasses - Marilyn Manson":http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DZrpv7l_s8I
Yeah, I'm not JUST a fan of Panic! at the Disco, you know! Haha. I do love me some Marilyn Manson. :P I do not own these songs! And nor do I think that people who listen to this music are crazy or anything like that. That's just Brendon himself. Anyway... Please rate and review! Three reviews would make me happy. :)
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Chapter 2
As we got into the car, I looked at him and then down at my legs. Why was I going on a date with him again? Oh, right, cause he was a charmer and somehow managed to convince me that going on a date with him was a good idea. I kept thinking, as he made his way over to the driver’s seat, that I should get out of the car. He hadn’t even started driving yet. I still had a chance to run.
Yet my body wouldn’t move as he slipped in the other side of the car. He locked the doors and took off. I stared out the window, thinking how much of an idiot I was. I lost my chance to escape. And here I was, in sweats and a white tshirt on my way to a date with a guy who somehow forced me on a date. I was wearing disgusting amounts of makeup and I felt like I was a clown going on a date with a prostitute.
He obviously sensed my hesitation as he slid his hand onto my leg and took my hand with a grin on his lips. And now I was remembering his lips on my ear. ’My dick in your ass.’ I shivered slightly and then he laughed a little, “You okay there, kid?”
I slowly looked over at him, “I’m going on a date with a guy who is planning on stalking me at both of my jobs. I look like a fucking clown who’s been snorting coke for five hours. I don’t know your name and my brain is swirling because you kissed me. So… I don’t really know.”
He was silent and the smile on his lips had faded. I said something wrong, didn’t I? He just stayed quiet. It was a long time before anyone said anything. All I could hear was Marilyn Manson in the background of the car. ‘You’re so pretty when you cry. Don’t wanna hit you but the only thing between our love is: A bloody nose, a busted lip and a blackened eye.’ He finally stopped at a red light and looked at me as I heard the music continue ‘You’re a little pistol and I’m fucking pistol whipped.’ He took a breath, “My name. It’s Brendon. And,” he laughed, “Who said I’m taking you on a date?” he grinned.
Shivers went down my spine and he turned back to the road, “When I undo my belt, you melt and you walk away with a red, red, red welt. You’re a little pistol and I’m fucking pistol whipped,” he sang along. This was so bad. This was going to end so badly. So so badly. Especially with the song about rape playing in the background. He was going to play it while he did it, wasn’t he?
Okay, so maybe I did have a rape fantasy, but I didn’t want to ever actually be raped. And I couldn’t even get out of this right now. I was in the car with him. And he was singing along to this song. He was singing along with a smirk on his lips. I stared at the door handle, debating how badly hurt I’d get if I just opened the door and fell out. I could die. But I didn’t want to get raped.
In the blink of an eye, I grabbed the handle, but the door locked and I slowly looked over at him. He smiled at me in a really eerie way, “Think you’re going somewhere?” oh god. Oh god. Oh god. I didn’t even know what to say anymore. He smiled at me and kept driving, “The more I give to you, the more I die. And I want you. And I want you. And I want you. And I want you. You are the perfect drug, the perfect drug, the perfect drug,” and I had to admit, despite the eeriness of the situation, he was a really good singer.
Why did that even cross my mind? I didn’t know what to do. I wanted out. Everything inside of me was turning to mush. After a few more minutes of his soft eerie singing with the music playing gently in the background, he parked in front of a large house. He got out and slowly walked over to my side. I fumbled around to unbuckle my seat belt. I pushed the door open and was about to run, but he grabbed my wrist. He pulled me into him with a smile, “Think you’re going somewhere?”
I squeaked, “No?”
“Good. Because if you were trying to run away, I wouldn’t let you have a safe word,” he smirked and pulled me into the house. Oh god. So it was what I thought it was. I was going to die. He was going to kill me. He walked past the living room where I saw the owner of the club I worked at sitting. He smiled at him, “Hey there, father.”
“Oh, you brought home another one? Don’t kill this one, Brendon. He’s actually a good asset to my club,” and he went back to doing what he was doing. Brendon only chuckled. My heart sunk down into the pit of my stomach. Oh my god, oh holy shit.
Dear god, please help me. I know I’m not religious or anything, but oh my god, I need you to help me here. I don’t want to die. I really don’t want to die. I’m too young to die. He’s going to kill me. He’s really going to kill me. What did I get myself into? HELP ME! Not that praying was going to do much at this point.
He opened a door and shoved me inside with a grin. He pushed me onto his black and red bed and climbed on top of me, “Now… Time for the restraints,” he grinned, showing off glistening white teeth. And that’s when I noticed them. That’s when I noticed that about him. Oh god. Oh my god. He leaned toward my neck and licked it before he bit down on it lightly. I gasped and squirmed. He grinned even wider, “I love it when you squirm.”
That’s it. I was going to die. I was dead. Cool.
---
A/N: This wasn't where I was going with it in the beginning. But as I re-read it, I liked this idea of it. Here are the links to the songs mentioned in previous chapters and in this one.
"The Perfect Drug - Nine Inch Nails":http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hpuu_xODUpo
"Pistol Whipped - Marilyn Manson":http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SeMtOrsWO28
"Heart-Shaped Glasses - Marilyn Manson":http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DZrpv7l_s8I
Yeah, I'm not JUST a fan of Panic! at the Disco, you know! Haha. I do love me some Marilyn Manson. :P I do not own these songs! And nor do I think that people who listen to this music are crazy or anything like that. That's just Brendon himself. Anyway... Please rate and review! Three reviews would make me happy. :)
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