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thegirl20I was bored and I wanted to write some Skins fic. But obviously I had no ideas so I decided to do that 'put your iTunes on random and write a drabble based on whichever song comes on' thingie to get my creative juices going a bit. So I did.
Admittedly the first one is a bit longer than a drabble and was not completed during the span of the song, but the others were.
There's swearing in these. It's Skins! ETA: There is also sex, which I should've probably mentioned before because it isn't like me to write sex and therefore could come as a shock. But still, it's Skins!
Auld Lang Syne – Mairi Campbell
She shivers in the wind and pulls her jacket tighter. She’s standing on the porch of a log-cabin in the middle of God-knows-where in the dead of winter. Inside a countdown starts and she sighs. She fucking hates New Year’s Eve. It’s an excuse for a piss-up and communal grope. And in her mother’s group of friends, that means getting sloppily snogged by lots of blokes with beards who claim all kinds of religious convictions which seem to fly out of the window after a couple of beers. A cheer goes up and she looks up at the cloudless sky.
“Happy fucking New Year, Naomi,” she whispers.
Her phone starts vibrating in her pocket and a smile springs to her face unbidden. She picks up.
“Happy New Year!”
She can barely make the words out over the din but the voice is unmistakable.
“Happy New Year, Ems.”
There’s no immediate reply and she can hear Emily talking to someone else in the background.
“Katie says Happy New Year too.”
She raises an eyebrow in surprise but before she can respond, there is some shuffling at the other end.
“What I actually said was that I hope you’re having a better time than my fucking miserable git of a sister is. She’s been moping all over the cunting place since we came up here.”
Her throat tightens at the thought but she finds herself smiling.
“Tell her I miss her too,” she says, her voice thicker than usual.
“Jesus Christ, tell her yourself. I’m going to find some big Scottish bloke to shag. The two of you lezzers are killing my buzz. Oh, Happy New Year and all that.”
“Happy New Year, Katie.”
In the changeover she hears Katie say something like ‘as fucking bad as each other’.
“Sorry about that.”
“S’OK. I miss you.”
“Oh God, don’t say that, you’ll make me cry.”
She can hear from Emily’s voice that she’s pretty much already crying.
“This is shit,” she says, sighing and hating how shaky it sounds.
“I know.”
“Next year let’s tell our families to go fuck themselves,” she suggests.
“Yeah? What’ll we do instead?”
It doesn’t scare her anymore, talking about a future that involves both of them together. It scares her to think they might not be. She smiles and closes her eyes.
“I dunno. Maybe we’ll go to Paris and get pissed on red wine and kiss on the Champs-Élysées at midnight.”
“That sounds lovely.”
Emily sounds sleepy and she can imagine her sitting on the staircase in her granny’s house, leaning against the wall with her eyes half-closed. It makes her chest throb with need.
“Or maybe we’ll just stay in Bristol and fuck all night so we won’t even know when stupid Big Ben chimes and one year will just blend into the next without us noticing.”
“You’re such a romantic, aren’t you?”
Suddenly, she needs to hear it.
“Tell me you love me, Em.”
“I love you.”
And there it is. Without hesitation or question or embarrassment.
“I love you too. And I miss you like fuck.”
She’s crying and laughing at herself at the same time. She wipes at her face messily with the back of her hand. Emily’s voice is rough with emotion when she replies.
“Two more days.”
It sounds like an entire lifetime.
“Yeah.”
“Look, I’d better go, they’re starting the sing-song and Katie’s gonna come looking for me to do a number.”
She laughs at that, a genuine laugh.
“A number, Ems? And pray tell, what are the Fitch twins going to treat their fans to?”
“Fuck knows. Last year she had me do ‘Sex on Fire’. I thought my granny was going to need resuscitated.”
She bites her lip. She doesn’t want to say goodbye. She’s thankful when Emily starts speaking again.
“So…can I call you later?”
Her reply comes immediately.
“Yes.”
“OK then. I guess I’ll speak to you later.”
“OK.”
“OK. Bye then.”
“Bye Ems. Break a leg. Preferably Katie’s.”
“Oi!”
“I’m kidding. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Damn – Girls Aloud
There’s no instruction book that comes with this shit. How am I supposed to know how to act around you? How am I supposed to control my fucking treacherous body as it reacts to the sound of your voice or the smell of your perfume? I try to ignore you, that doesn’t work. I try to be your friend, that’s worse. It’s got to the stage where I only feel right when I’m with you. When I’m not with you I’m fucking thinking about you or trying not to think about you. But I’m not…like that. I don’t want to feel like this.
Heartbreaker – Pat Benatar
I wish I could hate you. It would be so much fucking easier all round if I could just detest you. You make it an attractive option. Let’s face it, you’ve fucked me over on more than one occasion. But the problem is that you always come back. You look at me with those eyes and I know, I fucking know, that deep down you feel like I do. Now if only you could admit it without having to be completely off your tits. I fucking hate myself for letting you break my heart with every word you don't say.
Sugar High – Coyote Shivers
Emily’s not sure when they stopped going out. It was gradual, she supposed. One of them would comment on how cold it was outside, or how the club the gang were going to played shit music and they’d decide that staying in with a bottle of wine was a far more attractive option. They’d lie on Naomi’s couch, cuddling and making fun of crap Saturday night television shows. Inevitably they’d end up tangled around each other, kissing and touching until Emily would start her descent down Naomi’s body. She never got tired of Naomi’s taste, of the way her own body would quake with desire when Naomi moaned her name, of the way Naomi melted in her hands at the first swipe of her tongue. Yeah, staying in is the new going out.
Watch me go – Girls Aloud
It’s quarter past one in the morning and they’re in a club. Her hair is sticking to her forehead and neck. Naomi’s hand is inside her blouse. ‘Let’s get out of here.’ The words are hot against her ear. By quarter past two, she has Naomi tied to her bed with two pairs of tights. Naomi’s breathing is quick and shallow and she wastes no time in making her come. At quarter past three, they’re in the shower and Naomi’s fingers are thrusting inside her, quick and rough, just how she likes it. The water is cold by the time they get out, sore and happy. An hour later, they’re ready to go again.
On my Own – from Les Miserables
Emily likes night time best.
At night she can be the assertive twin. She can be intelligent and witty. At night, Katie follows her.
And during the night, Naomi wants her. They walk into college holding hands and kiss goodbye before class. They play footsie in the pub and Effy rolls her eyes and Panda asks them about lesbian sex.
At night, Naomi’s in love with her. Her lips are soft and her arms are strong.
She wishes the night would never end. Because she always wakes up alone.
The Thunder Rolls – Garth Brooks
Naomi sits by the window, watching the rain. She tries to tell herself that Emily’s stopped off somewhere to wait out the storm. It can’t be anything else. What else would keep her out to three o’clock in the morning? A figure runs up the path, using a bright red jacket as a futile cover from the torrent. The door opens just as a clap of thunder rolls overhead, Emily almost falls in.
Her first instinct is to go to her and hold her, thankful that she’s OK, that she isn’t hurt. But she reins it in, she wants to see her eyes first. Emily looks up, she doesn’t need to say anything. Naomi knows.
“Naomi, I’m sorry…I…”
“Effy.”
It’s not a question but Emily nods anyway. Naomi looks at the ceiling, willing away the tears that have blurred her vision. She doesn’t look at Emily again. She walks past her and out of the door, into the rain.
We Danced Anyway – Deana Carter
Emily can’t think of a time she’s ever been as happy. In some nameless Spanish village they’d come across a festival of some sort. Naomi had attempted to explain what it was about until Emily’s arched eyebrow forced her to admit that she hadn’t a fucking clue. Emily had shrugged and said they might as well join in anyway. So in the crowded streets they dance and kiss and do their best to sing along to Spanish songs they don’t understand a fucking word of. Emily leans back in Naomi’s arms, laughing at everything and nothing. Naomi looks down at her and Emily’s breath catches in her throat. And they dance.
Admittedly the first one is a bit longer than a drabble and was not completed during the span of the song, but the others were.
There's swearing in these. It's Skins! ETA: There is also sex, which I should've probably mentioned before because it isn't like me to write sex and therefore could come as a shock. But still, it's Skins!
Auld Lang Syne – Mairi Campbell
She shivers in the wind and pulls her jacket tighter. She’s standing on the porch of a log-cabin in the middle of God-knows-where in the dead of winter. Inside a countdown starts and she sighs. She fucking hates New Year’s Eve. It’s an excuse for a piss-up and communal grope. And in her mother’s group of friends, that means getting sloppily snogged by lots of blokes with beards who claim all kinds of religious convictions which seem to fly out of the window after a couple of beers. A cheer goes up and she looks up at the cloudless sky.
“Happy fucking New Year, Naomi,” she whispers.
Her phone starts vibrating in her pocket and a smile springs to her face unbidden. She picks up.
“Happy New Year!”
She can barely make the words out over the din but the voice is unmistakable.
“Happy New Year, Ems.”
There’s no immediate reply and she can hear Emily talking to someone else in the background.
“Katie says Happy New Year too.”
She raises an eyebrow in surprise but before she can respond, there is some shuffling at the other end.
“What I actually said was that I hope you’re having a better time than my fucking miserable git of a sister is. She’s been moping all over the cunting place since we came up here.”
Her throat tightens at the thought but she finds herself smiling.
“Tell her I miss her too,” she says, her voice thicker than usual.
“Jesus Christ, tell her yourself. I’m going to find some big Scottish bloke to shag. The two of you lezzers are killing my buzz. Oh, Happy New Year and all that.”
“Happy New Year, Katie.”
In the changeover she hears Katie say something like ‘as fucking bad as each other’.
“Sorry about that.”
“S’OK. I miss you.”
“Oh God, don’t say that, you’ll make me cry.”
She can hear from Emily’s voice that she’s pretty much already crying.
“This is shit,” she says, sighing and hating how shaky it sounds.
“I know.”
“Next year let’s tell our families to go fuck themselves,” she suggests.
“Yeah? What’ll we do instead?”
It doesn’t scare her anymore, talking about a future that involves both of them together. It scares her to think they might not be. She smiles and closes her eyes.
“I dunno. Maybe we’ll go to Paris and get pissed on red wine and kiss on the Champs-Élysées at midnight.”
“That sounds lovely.”
Emily sounds sleepy and she can imagine her sitting on the staircase in her granny’s house, leaning against the wall with her eyes half-closed. It makes her chest throb with need.
“Or maybe we’ll just stay in Bristol and fuck all night so we won’t even know when stupid Big Ben chimes and one year will just blend into the next without us noticing.”
“You’re such a romantic, aren’t you?”
Suddenly, she needs to hear it.
“Tell me you love me, Em.”
“I love you.”
And there it is. Without hesitation or question or embarrassment.
“I love you too. And I miss you like fuck.”
She’s crying and laughing at herself at the same time. She wipes at her face messily with the back of her hand. Emily’s voice is rough with emotion when she replies.
“Two more days.”
It sounds like an entire lifetime.
“Yeah.”
“Look, I’d better go, they’re starting the sing-song and Katie’s gonna come looking for me to do a number.”
She laughs at that, a genuine laugh.
“A number, Ems? And pray tell, what are the Fitch twins going to treat their fans to?”
“Fuck knows. Last year she had me do ‘Sex on Fire’. I thought my granny was going to need resuscitated.”
She bites her lip. She doesn’t want to say goodbye. She’s thankful when Emily starts speaking again.
“So…can I call you later?”
Her reply comes immediately.
“Yes.”
“OK then. I guess I’ll speak to you later.”
“OK.”
“OK. Bye then.”
“Bye Ems. Break a leg. Preferably Katie’s.”
“Oi!”
“I’m kidding. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Damn – Girls Aloud
There’s no instruction book that comes with this shit. How am I supposed to know how to act around you? How am I supposed to control my fucking treacherous body as it reacts to the sound of your voice or the smell of your perfume? I try to ignore you, that doesn’t work. I try to be your friend, that’s worse. It’s got to the stage where I only feel right when I’m with you. When I’m not with you I’m fucking thinking about you or trying not to think about you. But I’m not…like that. I don’t want to feel like this.
Heartbreaker – Pat Benatar
I wish I could hate you. It would be so much fucking easier all round if I could just detest you. You make it an attractive option. Let’s face it, you’ve fucked me over on more than one occasion. But the problem is that you always come back. You look at me with those eyes and I know, I fucking know, that deep down you feel like I do. Now if only you could admit it without having to be completely off your tits. I fucking hate myself for letting you break my heart with every word you don't say.
Sugar High – Coyote Shivers
Emily’s not sure when they stopped going out. It was gradual, she supposed. One of them would comment on how cold it was outside, or how the club the gang were going to played shit music and they’d decide that staying in with a bottle of wine was a far more attractive option. They’d lie on Naomi’s couch, cuddling and making fun of crap Saturday night television shows. Inevitably they’d end up tangled around each other, kissing and touching until Emily would start her descent down Naomi’s body. She never got tired of Naomi’s taste, of the way her own body would quake with desire when Naomi moaned her name, of the way Naomi melted in her hands at the first swipe of her tongue. Yeah, staying in is the new going out.
Watch me go – Girls Aloud
It’s quarter past one in the morning and they’re in a club. Her hair is sticking to her forehead and neck. Naomi’s hand is inside her blouse. ‘Let’s get out of here.’ The words are hot against her ear. By quarter past two, she has Naomi tied to her bed with two pairs of tights. Naomi’s breathing is quick and shallow and she wastes no time in making her come. At quarter past three, they’re in the shower and Naomi’s fingers are thrusting inside her, quick and rough, just how she likes it. The water is cold by the time they get out, sore and happy. An hour later, they’re ready to go again.
On my Own – from Les Miserables
Emily likes night time best.
At night she can be the assertive twin. She can be intelligent and witty. At night, Katie follows her.
And during the night, Naomi wants her. They walk into college holding hands and kiss goodbye before class. They play footsie in the pub and Effy rolls her eyes and Panda asks them about lesbian sex.
At night, Naomi’s in love with her. Her lips are soft and her arms are strong.
She wishes the night would never end. Because she always wakes up alone.
The Thunder Rolls – Garth Brooks
Naomi sits by the window, watching the rain. She tries to tell herself that Emily’s stopped off somewhere to wait out the storm. It can’t be anything else. What else would keep her out to three o’clock in the morning? A figure runs up the path, using a bright red jacket as a futile cover from the torrent. The door opens just as a clap of thunder rolls overhead, Emily almost falls in.
Her first instinct is to go to her and hold her, thankful that she’s OK, that she isn’t hurt. But she reins it in, she wants to see her eyes first. Emily looks up, she doesn’t need to say anything. Naomi knows.
“Naomi, I’m sorry…I…”
“Effy.”
It’s not a question but Emily nods anyway. Naomi looks at the ceiling, willing away the tears that have blurred her vision. She doesn’t look at Emily again. She walks past her and out of the door, into the rain.
We Danced Anyway – Deana Carter
Emily can’t think of a time she’s ever been as happy. In some nameless Spanish village they’d come across a festival of some sort. Naomi had attempted to explain what it was about until Emily’s arched eyebrow forced her to admit that she hadn’t a fucking clue. Emily had shrugged and said they might as well join in anyway. So in the crowded streets they dance and kiss and do their best to sing along to Spanish songs they don’t understand a fucking word of. Emily leans back in Naomi’s arms, laughing at everything and nothing. Naomi looks down at her and Emily’s breath catches in her throat. And they dance.
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no subject
Date: 2009-05-04 06:39 am (UTC)Sugar High and Watch Me Go are songs about sex. I'm sorry, I had to go there ;P
no subject
Date: 2009-05-04 01:35 pm (UTC)I'm new to this fandom. Just watched series 3 last week.
Also, I'm definitely not complaining about the sexiness. I've never heard those songs before, so it was a pleasant surprise.
no subject
Date: 2009-05-04 07:03 pm (UTC)I'm relatively new to Skins too. I got the DVDs at the start of April. It's fab.
Sugarhigh lyric - "I feel so funny deep inside, when I lick between your thighs, Sugarhigh." - Video
Watch Me Go lyric - "I was dressed in red, tied up to your bed, begged you on my knees." - Video
See? Not my fault.
no subject
Date: 2009-05-04 08:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-04 09:11 pm (UTC)(And it's lovely to know that you are on Team Naomi, deep down.)