#if i don't finish a fic in like three days i get so sick of it
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tboy-boone · 10 months ago
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i don't know if i'll post this fic but ouguuguhuhuh i'm tired of working on it. but i don't work on it, i'll have to do other things i really don't want to do
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hoshigray · 1 year ago
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𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇[𝐞𝐫]!! | t. fushiguro + s. ryōmen
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𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Next time, look around the area before you say you find a serial killer attractive. Because you’re about to see what mess your words will have you end up in — and your clothes all torn up.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: serial killers! Toji + Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - age gap (the reader is in their early 20s) - porn with plot - oral (f! + m! receiving) - threesome - double penetration; anal (first time) & vaginal - restricted movement (hands tied up) - face-sitting - cowgirl dp positions - gun + knife play - choking - spanking - unprotected sex - overstimulation - degradation (brat, broad, slut, whore) - pet names (baby, dollface, good girl, pet, princess) - blackmail/threats - the reader is in an established relationship w/ Nanami - mentions of blood, tears, spit, and drool.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k (told you, porn with plot, lol)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: uhhhh happy Friday the 13th, everybody???? blame @ramonathinks for this idea (jk, don't, she's so amazing, ty for pushing me into this, mona bear ♡ and tysm for beta reading; your thoughts mean the world). Haven't done a fic in two months sooooo go easy on me!! Not proofread, so I'll fix stuff l8rrrr
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“No.”
“Oh, come on, Y/n! Just answer the question!”
“You’re so fucking sick, you know that!?” You glare at your friend, who slumps on the booth chair with a heavy sigh. 
A slight breeze tickles your skin through your comfortable sweatshirts as the leaves on the trees slowly change to autumnal colors, and Halloween decor is already adorning every house and every yard. It was a warm and sunny afternoon on this pleasant Friday. Usually, you’d be cozied up in your apartment enjoying yourself, probably catching up on some horror flicks you missed last year. 
But alas, that was not the case. Because you’re a college student. As October has finally rolled around, only one thing prevents you from enjoying this beautiful season — midterms. The thought of it is enough to pull you into a pool of dread. Every day has been one whirlwind after another. Yet, on the bright side, all you have now is one last exam to worry about, and you’ll finally be able to rest this weekend. So here you are, at the diner with your best friend, Shoko Ieiri, completing your papers while eating off your plates to satiate the stress. For the most part, things were going smoothly.
Until the news anchor on the television at the bar relays an announcement… 
“…Once again, everyone, please be on the lookout for these two killers on the loose. Three weeks ago, the two recently escaped from their cells, killed three guards, and are still at large. There have been accounts around the state that reported recent sightings of either or both criminals, the recent one being in this county 27 hours ago. So, please, stay safe. The killers are identified to be…”
And Shoko, being the curious person she is, asks you a question that stops your fingers from typing on your laptop: “Do you find those killers hot?” 
That’s how you two end up where you are now, groaning at the brunette’s persistence in getting your approval to find two criminals — murderers, even! — attractive. 
“Hey, Y/n, I know you hear me.” Shoko snaps their fingers at you while you try to get the assignment done. “Just answer the question: don’t you think those guys are hot.”
“We didn’t come all this way for you to talk about your hybristophilia fantasies.” Facing the Word document, you remind your friend why you’re here in the first place. “Just get back to writing; I wanna finish this and get home.” There’s nothing said afterward for a few seconds, thinking she has finally given up.
However, “First of all,” your eyes close to conceal them rolling behind the lids. “I’m not into hybristophilia; I just know a hot guy when I see one. Second, look at their mugshots. Like, damn, you’ve ever seen anyone so intimidatingly good-looking before? Come on, have a look!”
“You’re such a weirdo,” the click-clacking of your fingertips tapping your keyboard fills the rest of your answer. 
Still, she persists. “Y/n, look at the phoooone~”
No words, only tapping keys.
“Y/n?”
The keys become louder. 
“Pretty, pretty, pleaseeeee~?” 
Louder.
“Y/n!!”
A fist bangs on the booth table as the other closes the laptop shut, sending another glare to the person across from you who holds the phone up. You’ve had it at this point, so you say with a steady breath, “If I look at the dumb mugshots and answer your dumb question, will your dumbass leave me alone and finish your work?” The brunette only puts the phone on the table and slides it your way, giving you big doe eyes and whimpers like a hurt puppy. You sigh with your nostrils as you snatch the phone up, your gaze stationed on the images presented.
The image displayed two mugshots: on the left was a man with raven hair and a scar on the left of his lip. Intense, forest-green orbs contrast the black strands that cover his forehead. The mugshot letter board below him is labeled as "Toji Fushiguro." The one on the right is another man with spiky salmon-colored hair pushed upfront with prominent black tattoos decorating his nose, cheeks, and forehead. The board named him as “Sukuna Ryōmen.”
You look at the pictures intently, examining the men’s features at your discretion. It didn’t occur to you how long you were gawking at the mugshots until you peered from the phone to see Shoko give you the biggest shit-eating grin. Shaking your head, you chew the inside of your cheek before responding.
“….Well,” you cough. “…they’re not terrible looking at all. They are…..hot.”
“Told you!” Shoko slams the table with high enthusiasm, earning another sigh from you as she snatches the phone back. “Would you fuck them?”
You almost popped a vein. What the fuck—“is wrong with you!?” 
“It’s just a question, geez.” She holds her hands up defensively. “Or is that too lewd and raunchy to ask the partner of the trusting, charismatic “Golden Boy” SGA president, Kento Nanami?”
You choke on your spit before you can say anything, and your cheeks dial in warmth. “S-Shut up! Don’t bring my love life into whatever deviant horny thoughts you’re thinking!”
“I’m sorry, I’m boreeeeeeed. I don’t wanna do this paper, ugh.” The brunette whines and bangs their forehead on the table surface; your eyes roll for the fifteenth time in the past three hours. “…Maybe I should get some dick after this.”
“For fuck’s sake, I’m going to use the restroom.” 
You exit the dining booth when they give you a muffled response of anguish, straightening yourself and heading for the back of the diner. As you walked away, you noticed a pair of hooded figures sitting at the booth behind you. Realization kicks in, and you groan internally. Oh, God, they probably heard what we were talking about! But what caught your mind next was that one of them had a black mark on the bridge of their nose. Huh, what an odd tattoo…
After using the toilet, you wash your hands at the sink, but your mind is still fixated on that weird tattoo. Who would get such a thing on their face? Wouldn’t that hurt? I wonder if that’s the only tatt— And then It clicked, you quickly turn off the faucet and dry your hands, exit the rest restroom, and run to your booth. Shoko was begrudgingly typing away on their laptop until she saw you return in a hurry. 
“Hey, you okay?” She asks you, but you aren’t looking at them. Your face contoured to a confused expression as you stared at the booth behind the one you were sitting in, now empty. 
“Did…..The two people who sat behind us, did you see them?” 
“Hmm? No, I didn’t. Must’ve left while my head was on the table.”
“Uh huh…” you say nothing more as you slowly sit back in front of your laptop. Your mind is now clouded with confusing thoughts, questioning your experience up until now. It could be a coincidence, quite far out at that. Regardless, you could’ve sworn you saw that tattoo on the Sukuna guy that Shoko showed you. It was such an uncommon decor, especially since you just saw it on the face of a criminal. Not to mention, the news anchor earlier stated that those two killers were in this exact county…
Needless to say, you didn’t touch your keyboard for about twenty minutes. Your mind was too wrapped up elsewhere to think clearly about your school assignment, and your body harbored a disturbing chill worse than the soft autumn winds.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“…So, why are you researching about the loose killers again?”
“Hm? Oh,” you stop typing on the laptop to attend to the phone call you’re on. Exiting your bedroom, you walk to the living room. “No reason, I was just curious. I saw something about them on the news at the diner with Shoko.”
The person on the other side of the line hums. “You should be careful about stuff like that.”
“Yeah, I know, Kenty,” you open the sliding door to your balcony and close it behind you before taking a seat on the cream-colored swing chair.
“I’m very serious, Y/n.” It was none other than Kento Nanami who was speaking with you. The trustworthy “Golden Boy” of your class year, the circumspect president of the Student Government Association… your loving and attentive boyfriend.
"I know you are."
"And those guys aren't just any usual criminals. They're notorious killers who barge into people's homes at night to steal valuable things. Maybe even kill their victims in their sleep if they have the time. So, be very careful, okay? Can’t trust these streets at night, especially now with those guys on the run. So, don’t go anywhere alone, always have your pepper spray on you, and be sure everything is locked — doors, windows, everything.”
A deep sigh leaves your lips. “Yeah, I double-checked all the locks once I got inside.” 
No one says a word; the rustling of the trees and the beeping of cars from the traffic at the light substitute this awkward silence. Until Nanami says, “….You scared?”
You don’t answer immediately, your mind flashing back to the bewildering encounter at the diner earlier today. Those two hooded men, one with a black tattoo on his face. It felt too surreal to feel like a coincidence, yet it wasn’t too far out of your mind to think as such. The timing was strange, with the news reporter and your conversation with Shoko. The thought of two murderers nonchalantly being in the same space as you rub you off in the worst way imaginable. “…Kinda, yeah. A bit spooked.”
“You want me to come up there and spend the night?”
“No, no! You don’t have to do that,” you hurriedly decline his proposal. “I know you’re busy with homework and student government stuff. I wouldn’t want you moving around so much; I’d feel bad.”
You hear him chuckle on the other side of the phone, and your heart swoons at the sound. “Don’t feel bad; you could never be a burden to me, especially when your safety is my top priority.” Another skip of the beat; it’ll never fail to amaze you how sweet he is with his words.
“Thank you, Kenty. But still, I know you’ve got a lot on your hands. You don’t have to see me right this moment. Besides, isn’t Haibara supposedly dragging you to some party at Geto’s?” Nanami is silent for a few seconds before he groans; a smile creeps up on your face at his reaction.
“Unfortunately, yes. I have to leave to pick him up, and then we can go…But I can cancel and come o—“
“Absolutely not.” You’re quick to interject. “You’ve been so high and on edge with your exams. This is the first party after midterm week. And I can bet my left toe that Gojo — cause you know he’ll be there if Geto is — will be upset you couldn’t make it.”
“…….Which one?”
“Excuse me?”
“You have five toes on your left foot, so which one—“
“Kento.” He chuckles once more for your ears to hear at the use of his real name. “Have fun, okay?”
Nanami hums. “I’ll try. I’ll come by your place Sunday. Sounds good?”
“Perfect. Take some pics for me. Love you!”
Your boyfriend bids you farewell before ending the call, already missing his voice. A yawn creeps out from you, a sign that you are indeed fatigued and need rest. Leaving the balcony, you close the door and do a final check at your door. Confirmed that it’s locked and secured, you turn off the living room lights and head back to your bedroom to get some shut-eye. 
You shut off and close your laptop on your desk before turning off the lights. Then, you lift the comforter and finally enter the chilly embrace of your bedsheets.  Usually, you’d scroll on your phone for a little bit until you get drowsy enough to fall asleep. Yet — it could be because of the exam you were doing at the diner — you felt way more exhausted than usual and wanted to sleep right away. And you did just that: closed your eyes, listened to the calming rhythm of your breaths, and soon drifted into an anticipated slumber.
….Three Hours Later….
The next time you open your eyes, you’re not in the room you left yourself in — let alone the bed. 
Instead, you find yourself somewhere cold and dark. Your bed is nowhere in sight, just a lone chair facing you. There are no windows, no desks, just you and this chair with a sole overhead light that almost blinds you when you slowly get up. 
The change of scenery throws you off as one thought after another picks up the pace of confusion. Where am I? What is this place? This has to be a sick dream of mine…Wait a minute. You look down to find your pajamas are shriveled and torn up, pieces of the material scattered all over where you’re lying on the cold floor. Also, what the fuck!? You can’t seem to move your hands and feet, noticing that there’s some rope restricting your limbs from moving freely from one another. No matter how hard you try, squirming does little to no help, yet it confirms that this is not a dream.
What the absolute fuck is going on right now!? It was an appropriate question for this perplexing situation, not knowing where to pick up from to start picking clues as to why you’re here. Better yet, who brought you here?
“Ah, look who’s awake.”
You turn to the sound of a door opening and closing; the direction it came from makes it hard to register the distance of whoever was speaking to you. However, that doesn’t matter because you can hear footsteps approaching you and a figure stepping into the light. And when the face finally comes to your field of vision, your blood shifts into an immediate icy cold.
Standing to you by the chair was a man in a tight black shirt that exhibited his muscular arms and physique way too perfectly, harboring dark and baggy pants. But those weren’t the features that had your breath hitch. No, no. The man before you had raven hair with the length stopped to his ears and strands that covered his brows. They did not even try concealing the striking green eyes that looked straight at you. And the familiar scar at the right of his lip put everything together for you — the mugshot that Shoko showed me, the inmate that escaped prison…!
Toji Fushiguro, in the flesh, takes a seat on the chair with his legs spread while putting on black gloves. He notices your look of realization and smirks; you don’t like how his scar is rooted up with the motion. “Y’re a pretty heavy sleeper, ya know that. But I guess that made bringing you here a lil’ simple.” 
A tiny bit of confidence prompts you to speak with the man. “Whe–Where am I?”
“C’mon now, little girl,” your stomach churns when he scoffs at you. He brings up a hand to help him as he cracks his neck. God, why is he so jacked!!? “Y’re supposed to be smart, right? You know that’s the wrong question to ask me.” 
Okay then, think, Y/n, think… ��…Why did you kidnap me? Is it for money? Because I don’t have much—“ The palm of Toji’s hand faces you to halt you from speaking more, making your nervousness dwell even further. 
“For one, you should really consider locking your balcony door when y’re done using it.” There are not enough words to describe the mental facepalm you gave yourself. “If we wanted to run y’r pockets, we woulda done so earlier.” He casually admits to you. “But that’s not why we brought ya here, so he’ll explain it to ya.”
He? Wait, wait, we??
The other mugshot hits you like a flash before you hear the door open and close again. Of course, Toji isn’t the only one on the run right now. There was another guy with salmon-colored hair and tattoos. The other figure, now wearing a black tank tee and ripped black jeans, came from behind Toji. Your stomach drops to the floor when your eyes land on the prominent black tattoo on his nose — now seeing that he has way more on his face, shoulders, arms, and wrists. The scene from the diner replays until your brain can’t keep up. It was him, no doubt about it.
“Well, well. Did the sleeping beauty finally get their rest?” Sukuna Ryōmen, looks just as [if not more] dangerous as Toji. He stuffs his hand into the back of his jeans pocket. “Listen here, I’ll be asking you some questions, and I expect nothing but honest answers. Got that?” 
You don’t know what possessed you to ask the question. You being scared shitless right now should’ve prevented you from doing so. And yet, you ask, “And if I don’t?”
It happened way too fast; your eyes couldn’t even process it happening. But one moment, the salmon-haired criminal was standing in front of you beside Toji. The next, you feel someone crouched behind you with the cold feeling of something barely piercing your skin. Your eyes widen, and you don’t dare move a single hair. Toji shakes his head at you, the smirk on his face still present. Now you can guess who had fun cutting up your PJs.
“I don’t think you wanna know the answer to that question.” He says it so close to your ear that you could’ve nearly fainted. Sukuna then moves the knife to scrape the side of your neck. “And don’t you ever think you’re in a position to ask me questions. Use that college brain of yours, brat.” 
You gulp — a risky move when you have a sharp object to your neck — and nod. Satisfied, the pink-haired man removes the knife from your proximity and stands right up. “At least you follow things quickly.” He says while walking back to where he stood prior. “Now, question one: do you know a kid named Kento Nanami?” 
The mention of your boyfriend’s name hits you like whiplash. Kento? What do they want with him!?
“…Yes, I do.”
“Good. Next question,” You chew the inside of your lip before he asks you the following. “Where does he live?”
Your body almost shuts down when he says the final word. No. No, no, no! Absolutely not! “I can’t tell you that.”
“Tch, just when you were doin’ so good.” Sukuna sucks his teeth. “And why the hell not?”
“Because I don’t want you hurting him.”
He barks a laugh. “You don’t even know what we’ll do to him! Damn, talk about a loyal dog.” 
The insult sparked a flame in you. It was a small one, but a flame nonetheless. “Why the hell do you want to know anyway? It’s not like he knows you any—Hrckk!”
“What the hell did I say about you asking questions, huh.” A hurried hand meets your throat, black nails digging into your skin as his grip gets unbearably tight. You attempt to keep a stern face despite choking for some air, but you’d be lying that the pain wasn’t getting to your head.
“Alright, Kuna, let ‘em go.” You almost forgot about Toji sitting on the chair until he spoke up. With a displeased click of the tongue, Sukuna releases you and throws you to the cold, hard floor. “For your information, princess, that kid does know us.”
You’re coughing up a storm, but you still listen. Your eyes are watery, and your throat pulses. “Hic…Ack, what—What are you talking about?”
Toji continues. “That little friend of y’rs is the reason why we were behind bars for three years. Fuckin’ kid saw us break into a house in his neighborhood and called the cops on us. For the longest time, we’ve thought about getting out of those damn cells and coming back to rip that lil’ fucker limb from limb. Maybe ransack his whole home and then some.” 
“And now that we are out here,” Sukuna chimes in. “We plan on doing just that. We were sitting right behind you at the diner and heard the brown-haired chick say his name, meaning he had to be around this county. And when he heard that fucking square had a little girlfriend, who better to introduce ourselves and point us the way than you.” 
So much information hits you all at once that you’re not given enough time to process it properly. Nanami called the cops on these guys? Where was that piece of information on the phone call!!? Three years ago, it must’ve happened before the start of freshman year. And then there’s the matter of these murders trying to kill him — the love of your life! 
You immediately try to weigh your options: you could give them a fake address, but that would lead them back to you and have you killed instead. And Nanami doesn’t live at home right now; he’s on campus with you and everyone else. So, sharing these two his home address will just have his family killed in his place! Oh, you wouldn’t handle that guilt; you just couldn’t!!
“So, what’ll it be, little girl?” Toji’s voice snaps you from your rampant thoughts. “You can be a cute girlfriend and be loyal, and we’ll just kill you right here, right now. Or, you give us an address, we’ll put you back to sleep, and you’ll never see from us ever again.” 
Those two options were far from what you wanted to do. You would never want to jeopardize your poor boyfriend’s life and those around him for being a model citizen, especially for these assholes! There had to be a way, something you could do!
“Please, don’t hurt him!” The ropes on your hands and feet have you shuffle to look at the two men from the dirty ground. “He didn’t do anything wrong. Please just spare him!”
“No-can-do, brat.” Sukuna comes down to your level once more, yanking your shirt — or whatever’s left of it, your bra practically out for the whole world to see — to lift your upper body. “Nothing to ease a vengeful spirit than taking care of the problem, right? So do us a favor, will ya.” 
Tears are fighting your control to fall, your body trembling. You’re scared, so so frightened. But most of all, you’ll do what you can to make sure your “golden boy” stands tall for you. “Please, I’ll do anything! Anything you want, I’ll do it! So, please!!” 
Sukuna opens his mouth to bite back, but no words come out. Actually, his expression resorts back to a neutral tone. He then turns to Toji, who looks at him with a quirked brow. There’s nothing but silence between the two, a silent conversation between the two killers that you have no choice but to stay quiet for. And you jerk when the two focus back on you. Sukuna then finally says something.
“Anything, huh?” It’s the worst when he sneers at you. Such a devious man. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“Tch. Fucking brat.” Sukuna sucks his teeth before he snatches your chin with a rough vigor, forcing your teary eyes to face him. And it doesn’t help that you now have a gun pointed at your temple. “This is your warning. You better do this right, or you’ll be the first to get a gift with your boyfriend’s head all minced up. Now, use that mouth. Properly.”
Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you’d end up here. You stood on your knees and hands on the concrete floor, your mouth occupied with Sukuna’s cock, propelling your face to and fro to meet the base. Why the handgun to your head? According to the salmon-haired man, he said: “Try to fight, run, or bite our dicks off, then this whole mag is getting emptied.” So, you’re literally giving the fellatio of your life. And judging by the grunts coming from Sukuna, it seems you’re doing a decent job keeping him going. 
As for the other one, Toji, his hands grabbing onto your asscheeks from beneath should answer that. “C’mon, baby, sit on my face. I don’t bite…” you can tell he has the biggest grin on his face saying that, has you hesitant to follow orders. Regardless, you gently sway your ass down to sit on his face. But impatience gets the best of him before he pulls you down himself, his nose abruptly hitting your clitoris. You jolt despite his hands keeping you on him, forced to feel his tongue and mouth indulging on your wet folds.
So there you sit, bare and nude, for the men to use you as they see fit. Whatever piece of your clothes were torn off you to be fully exposed for them. This is what you choose to do for the sake of your boyfriend: giving yourself off for the night. 
Oh, if Shoko could see you now. Sucking off one of the exact murderers you two were talking about at the diner while the other eats you out? You know you’ll never hear the end of it from her if — by some miracle — she finds out! And you’ll hold onto that miracle for as long as you can. 
“…Fuuuck, hnngh! It’s been a minute since I had my dick on something tight,” Sukuna comments while putting his free hand on your head. His thrusts increase to have your tongue bathe the underside of his dick, and he sighs at you choking when the tip suddenly hits your uvula. “Heh, that’s right. Keep those tears coming, pet…You seem to be enjoying yourself there, Fushiguro. This broad taste that fucking good—Ohhh shit, fucking shit…”
You can feel Toji’s lips curve into a smile from down under, he gives your labia and clit a slow and antagonizing lick before responding to his partner in crime. “Mmmm, man. It’s been a while since I had to do this. Crazy how this princess got with a square like that kid. Wonder if he makes ‘em feel good like this.” And then he returns to your clit to give it a harsh suck. 
Your body continues to be used like a toy. Your jaw loosens to oblige Sukuna’s girth that’s currently hitting the back of your throat every time your lips meet the pubes of his pelvis. His ruts dial-up, and you ball your fists with the constant oral abuse on your face. Drool runs down your chin with every shove of his length, practically choking you with his dick. And the commotion between your leaking vulva and Toji doesn’t go unnoticed either; motherfuker’s tongue is relentless, making sure every crevice and part of your pussy is familiar with him. And the sounds of him slurping your essence are so lewd, so erotic for your ears that you think they’re bound to explode on you. 
“—Ahhh, damn, I’m gonna cum,” Oh, God. Your eyes open to look at Sukuna’s expression, nothing but pure enjoyment looking at your pitiful look. “You’re cute looking all pathetic taking my cock like this, whore—Mmmph!! Shiiiit, keep your head like that.” He grabs your head as his thrusts speed up to an irregular pace, your throat and face becoming numb. Your whimpers are muffled, and tears streak down your cheeks. His groans of pleasure fill the room, and before you know it, his load is released down to the depths of your throat. You’re stuck taking it, mewling on the shaft still in your mouth until he’s finished. 
He removes you when he is, his cock slathered in your saliva and still rock hard. You gawk at it, amazed that you could fit it in your mouth. And you hate to admit this, but it has you wondering what Toji’s is like. 
Speaking of, with a foggy mind, you peer down to see Toji finally done eating your cunt out. “Ya taste good, you know that.” He licks his lips provocately with a smile. You open your mouth to say something, but he cuts you off. “You ready fr’ me now?” He cocks his chin up, and you turn to see what he’s talking about, only to be met with the pinkish-red tip of his sprung erect cock. If you didn’t think you’d be able to have Sukuna’s in your mouth, you’re going to need a diety’s grace to see what you can do with Toji’s. “Heh, think I’m too big fr’ you? How the hell is Kento handling a piece like you?”
“S–Shut up, stop bringing him up!” You shout at him, tired of being reminded of the love of your life whom you’re betraying right now. All for his sake, but still…
He chuckles at your reaction. “Little girl got spark, huh. Fine then, be a doll and put it in yourself.” 
Cold sweat slides from your brow. Me? I’ve gotta put that shit in on my own!? But you have to. You know you do. So, with anxiousness pooling in your stomach, you bring your ass up and use your hand to align his cock to your wet cunt. 
It takes a lot of mental motivation for you to continue, but slowly and surely, you push the folds of your cunt onto his glans. The pain you experience makes it excruciating to bear, but with steady breaths, you push the tip in with every exhale. And when it finally enters your vulva, a gasp erupts from your puffy lips and a hiss from the man with the scarred lip. “Mmmm, slow down, baby, slow it down…” That was probably the only words he’s ever said that you could trust, so you anchor your ass down, taking in every inch of his length with his hands guiding your ass down. When you reach the base, you give yourself a few seconds to adjust to his girth within your velvety walls. “Fuck, ya feel so nice and tight, princess.”
“Is that so?” Sukuna walks from behind. “Can’t wait for me to have a go.” You couldn’t even comprehend the meaning of that sentence because the salmon-haired one kicked your back. You are now mounted on Toji completely, the two of you facing each other while Sukuna crouches behind your ass. “Get ready, I’m putting it in.”
“Huh?” Wait, both at the same time!? “Ho–Hold on, I’ve never done it in my ass bef—“
“Doesn’t sound like a problem to me; guess I’ll be the first then,” he shuts down your argument and then bends down to use his fingers and spit to ease your asshole. It feels so gross and repulsive that you could puke right now. Not that it would matter to Sukuna because he’s already set on doing it — his fore and middle finger pushing in and out of your anus. When he feels you’ve loosened up, he’ll remove his digits and substitute them with his cock. 
And he doesn’t warn you either, fucking bastard; he nudges his dick in his own countdown with no regard to how you’re feeling. Gripping onto the raven-haired man’s black shirt, Sukuna’s cock puts you through pain worth traumatizing, evoking screams that scratch your throat until he gets the whole thing in your ass. Nanami would never put you through this much pain. Never!
“Aww, y’re making the pretty girl cry,” Toji teases condescendingly, chuckling at the sight of you burying your head in his chest to shield the embarrassment. 
Sukuna hums while grinding his hips to your ass, a tiny bit of blood painting his shaft. “Hmph, good, makes my enjoyment worthwhile. Now,” you shriek with the sudden snap of his hips to your ass. “Let’s get this show started.”
When Sukuna moves, Toji follows right after, and you’re left to fend for yourself in this unsteady tempo from both your holes. You start seeing stars from the unusual stimulation, and your mind and vision become so blurry that it hurts to think. Hell, it hurts to try and concentrate on one dick at a time! One is currently scraping the wells of your walls in a way that your slit clenches around him, while the other churns your insides from the back that almost takes your breath away. More drool and tears seep into the black shirt you use to disguise yourself from them. This shit is already humiliating as is!
“C’mon now, baby. Show me that pretty face of y’rs.” Of course, Toji uses one hand to nudge your head to look at him. Your face is such a wet and hot mess, the sweat on your body making you sticky. The attempt to make sentences is beyond you, relying on moans and choked sobs to express your disorganized emotions. “There ya are. Good fuckin’ girl.”
Toji then takes your plump lips with his, his hand snaking to the back of your head to deepen the kiss. It was one thing letting them use your cunt and ass as they see fit; now, they dare to kiss you in a time like this. Oh, this is the absolute worst! How can you speak to Nanami ever again after this!? These lips are now sullied by the lips and cock of other men. You can’t ever go back and say that you were his, and it’s because of these assholes!!
…And what’s worse, you were starting to find enjoyment in what you were doing, sinking into Toji’s kiss and moaning into his scarred lips.
“Haahh…Mmmph…Damn, this slut is so fucking tight.” Sukuna watches your back glisten in the light while your ass quaked under his unstable momentum. He sneers before slapping your asscheek, resulting in a rushed moan and a twitch from your pussy. Toji breaks the kiss. “Hey, keep doing that. Think they like it.” 
With devilish glee, the tattooed other doesn’t hold back. He gives you another smack to the ass, and more loud purrs and shrieks fill the space between you three. Fast ruts to your soaping slit and ass coincide with the strikes to your butt, catching you off guard and leaving a stinging sensation every time. 
It’s apparent now that your hips start to move on their own, riding out your own high while preparing for your orgasm that’s climbing up. And the raven-haired man notices as he puts your hand on your aching buttcheeks. “Goin somewhere, dollface?” 
Oh, for fuck’s sake, let me come already!! “—Ahhnn, ooohhhh!! I’m about to cummm—I’m gonna break—Eeyahhh!!!
“That so?” You want to wipe that smirk off his stupid, dumb, handsome face. “Then go ahead and get dirty, princess. Ring us up.”
Your arousal staggers up when both of their thrusts fall into a unity, the tender spots of your gummy walls from your ass and cunt being hit and abused prompt more ecstatic moans and your head pounding with every jab. Almost there, almost! Please, please, I want it!! And you are finally given what you want; your release crashes into you in a hard swoop, the shocks crawling up your body while your holes contract around both men’s cocks. Your brain falls into an erotic trance; you only care about the euphoric sensations tingling around your body. Dizziness overtakes you, and your head descends back on Toji’s chest.
“Hmph, you really a pathetic pet.” Sukuna grinds his pelvis into your sensitive ass. The aftershocks from your release still make your body react to their movements. “Chasing for your own orgasm, huh. We outta fuck that selfishness right out of you, damn brat…”
You don’t say anything — more like you don’t have the energy to. Your ass and chasm are too stuffed to keep your mind active, and your eyelids feel too heavy to keep up. It probably was from all that crying and screaming. All you want to do is go back to sleep in your bed at your cozy apartment. But that must be asking for too much. Just please end this nightmare…
Kenty…Please forgive me, I’m so sorry….
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
You can’t remember how sleep found you that night. But your eyes open to the ray of sunshine that peaks through the binds of your bedroom. Wait, my bedroom!?
You shoot up from your bed, the soft comforter and sheets peeling off your skin, and the cool air from the air conditioning welcomes you back to your personal space. Everything untouched, everything where it’s supposed to be — where you’re supposed to be.
A deep breath is the first thing you do when you wake up, following a long exhale. Was I dreaming? You would’ve accepted that delusion had you not looked down to realize that your figure was covered with one of your oversized shirts, remembering that your old pajamas were cut and torn up. Flashes of last night return to haunt you, and shivers travel down your spine from realizing what transpired at those ungodly hours. You quickly check your sheets for any stains — Thank God, none. Funny how a pair of serial killing assholes have the decency to clean up your body. 
And then a sudden feeling of dread crawls up after hearing your phone vibrating on your nightstand. You hurry to check the screen to find out it was a text message from Nanami. It’s a Saturday, 9 a.m. He’d usually be sleeping in until noon. Curious, you unlock your phone to check what your boyfriend is texting you about.
Recent Message from: ♡ my bby nanamiii ♡
Hey, Y/n. Hope you slept well and everything’s okay. I’m coming from Geto’s place after picking up Haibara, who is going through the worst hangover right now. He said he wants to see you and that you make the best meals for his hangovers. I don’t want to intrude if you’re not up for guests, so please tell me so I can take him somewhere else. But otherwise, we’ll be there at around 30-45 mins. Let’s just relax this weekend, okay?
Reading the text as you fall in love with him all over again. After what you’ve gone through, knowing that he’s safe and sound from any trouble, all you want right now is to be around him and hold him close. To be with him and forget about everything that’s happened. 
You send a heartwarming reply saying you’ll be waiting for the two of them. Then, you remove yourself from the bed and stretch out your fatigued muscles. Ugh, I should probably shower before Nananmi gets here…
However, before you lift your shirt and head for the bathroom, you notice a glass of water and a bag full of pills. Huh…I definitely didn’t have that there when I went to sleep before I was taken. And next to the glass was a folded piece of paper. Curiosity got the best of you this morning as you picked up the material to read its contents. 
And this is where you knew your life was changing, for better or worse. Your legs give out, making you fall to your knees with a shaky breath, the hairs of your body standing, and your heart on the verge of leaping out of your mouth. What you read crushed your whole being, leaving you cold in this world — worse than the autumn breeze.
Yo, thanks for the great time last night. Keep that up, and your pretty boytoy will keep standing. Here’s water and birth control, and keep that bag safe. Wouldn’t wanna end up losing it for the next time we fuck you dumb. See ya later, pet.
SR + TF
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♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly <3 header art by rororgi mogera + dividers by the amazing @/cafekitsune!!
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just-a-creep-babe · 19 days ago
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What Makes You Tick - Prologue
(Ticci Toby x Reader)
Cheers to the new longer fic series starring Toby! Hope you enjoy this brief little intro to get a taste of what's to come~
Commissions are open!
Masterlist: x
Divider by @plum98
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Work.
That’s what Toby’s life revolves around. Day in, day out. He doesn’t have hobbies, doesn’t have friends to hang out with—and he certainly doesn’t have a family to go back home to, either. He has work.
It consumes him.
He’s thankful for it, though. It’s pathetic to say, but at least he has something. At least he’s still good for one thing. At least he’s not completely fucking useless.
So it doesn’t bother him when Slender sends him out on a mission not even a full 24 hours after the last one. It's just another distraction, another way to kill some time and keep his darker thoughts at bay. It's another way to feel useful, to feel needed.
He notices, as he's preparing his things, that his partners in crime aren't the happiest about getting thrown into another job. But then again, when are they ever happy?
Toby sits on the couch in their dingy cabin when he finishes prepping. Hoodie joins him not too long after, leaning against the side of the couch with his arms folded over his chest, and both wait in silence for the following orders.
When Masky has most of his things ready, he stands in front of them and addresses them for a debrief. It's a fairly standard mission, as far as jobs go. Something about someone with the Sickness who's trying to find the cure and needs to be intercepted—same old, same old. There's a strange kind of comfort in the regularity of the work.
Ever since the incident, Toby's life stopped making sense. But at least there's still some semblance of routine within the insanity of it all. At least he could still cling to these fleeting threads of normalcy.
"Toby."
Snap.
Masky snaps his fingers in front of Toby's face.
"You're zoning out. I need you focused."
"I am focused," Toby retorts.
"No, you're not. You're not taking this seriously."
With a roll of his eyes, Toby looks up at the ceiling.
"That's because we've done this exact same job hundreds of-of times by now. I don't need to listen to the same fu-fucking debriefing every s-single time."
Masky pinches the bridge of his nose, furrows his brows, and exhales deeply through his tired frustration.
"It's not the same every time. I'm giving you important information that you need to know and you need to remember. I don't do this shit for fun, Toby; it's not a fucking game."
"I'm not saying it's a fucking game," Toby stands abruptly as a jolt of anger snaps through his body. It takes everything in his power to stop himself from grabbing Masky's collar and shaking him. "I'm saying I'm sick of hearing you spew out the same crap time and time again when you—when you could just s-summarize it or something!"
"I am summarizing it—you fucking dipshit. You'd know that if you fucking listened for once in your life."
Toby's about to lose whatever meager ounce of self-control he has, when Hoodie steps in between them and separates them.
"Alright, that's enough. No injuries before we're on site. I don't wanna have to work more to compensate for dead weight."
"Just—focus, alright?" Masky insists, and all Toby can think about is how satisfying it would be to throw his fist into his dumb fucking face.
"I am focused," the youngest of the three seethes the words out.
"Alright, can you repeat the plan to me, then?"
"We're finding our target, going in, seeing what edge we can find. They have some—some notebook or wh-whatever and Slender wants it back. We kill if we need to."
Masky groans, as if the recap isn't good enough, but Hoodie shakes his head, as if to dissuade his partner from arguing any further.
"It'll do," Hoodie states, "C'mon, it shouldn't be a long one. The sooner we're in, the sooner we're out."
And just like that, the three separate to start loading up the car and heading out.
Masky drives, as usual, and Hoodie takes shotgun, leaving Toby in the back, as usual. He doesn't mind it too much, though; anything is better than sitting next to Masky for an extended amount of time. Plus, not having to worry about the road gives him plenty of time to look out the window and daydream. It's one of the few times he can escape, and his mind won't take him anywhere unpleasant.
Well, most of the time it won't, anyway. Which is about as good as it can get.
They sleep at a hotel after driving non-stop for the rest of the day, and they're on the road for the following two days after that. It's only on the fourth day that they finally crash at a hotel that Masky announces will be their "home, sweet home" until the end of the job.
He recaps the mission, again, but Toby, admittedly, only really pays attention to their target's description. He hears Masky explain that they’ll start working at dusk, but Toby’s already too busy testing out the mattresses and pillows to bother listening.
Thankfully, Masky ignores him instead of bitching at him, and the two other proxies talk about more shit Toby doesn't care about.
At least this won't be a long one, Toby thinks, his eyes already growing heavy as the comfort of the cheap hotel bed encourages him to relax. The last coherent thought he has is the feeling of relief that at least this mission’s bound to be over before he knows it.
And then his thoughts are lost to his dreams.
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19burstraat · 1 year ago
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ketterdam dashboard simulator
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goedmedbridge420
who up boeking they canal
10,345 notes
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drydens follow
I can't believe some of you log on here and thirstpost about barrel vagrants. it makes me so sick. these men are the very pits of society and have never honoured ghezen a day in their lives. there are so many other young men who make their living in a reverent way. have some dignity.
#ghezen #inghezenssight #ghezenhonouring #churchofghezen #handofghezen
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kooperomno1fan
lionsroar12 follow
omg HOW is kaz brekker winning this he's SO problematic he's not even good for the economy he killed members of his own gang and kidnapped councilman van eck's son
dregsundrained
cranky coz your gang fell apart aren't you
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oskervoexchange follow
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guys is this a mandela effect or what bc I SWEAR this painting used to be in the university district art museum, I literally saw it this week??? but I went today and it was GONE?????? there wasn't even a plaque?? guys pls I'm so confused why is everyone acting like this is normal for ketterdam? do priceless antiques just VANISH? am I being gaslit?
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stadhall-clerking
guys I'm so sorry I've been MIA :( I found out that my landlord was using my rent on the staves rather than fixing my black mould problem so I pushed him out the window and told the stadwatch he must have fallen and died because he wasn't honouring ghezen and got away with it. anyway I think maybe the black mould explains the dirtyhands/sturmhond fic I was writing sorry :( but I WILL finish my fairy queen of istamere meta post once I've moved into my new lodging
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dregsconfessions follow
SUBMISSION: sometimes I lie awake thinking about the time I fell down an entire flight of stairs at the slat when kaz was at the bottom, and he just stared at me (still lying on the floor), and then asked if I'd changed the beer kegs at the silver six yet. GIRL NO?!?!?!
#submission #dregs #dirtyhands #admin comment: laughed so loud my upstairs neighbour threatened to shoot me
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dregsconfessions follow
ADMIN NOTE: if the razorgulls don't fucking stop sending anon hate to this blog we'll tell dirtyhands n he'll send you your own IP address back
#see what happens you hack job seagulls
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kerchtourismboard
it's us, the real kerch tourism board, here to tell you what we're putting in the new summer season pamphlet. we got 1) three pages all about kaz brekker that end up being more of an advertisement than a deterrent 2) list of slipperiest spots in the barrel where you will fall over and get a concussion when ur drunk 3) top 10 ways to get your wallet stolen by a child in broad daylight 4) paintings of the komedie brute 5) advert for sten's stockpot 6) map of public toilets
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kerchtourismboardreal follow
we are not affiliated with any degenerate impersonator accounts who claim to be us. we are the only real kerch tourism account.
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kerchtourismboard-real follow
grafcanal smells like piss and you should bite everyone you see wearing the mister crimson costume
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stensstockpot follow
it's all 'fuck sten's stockpot' and 'I got food poisoning from the special at sten's stockpot' until you realise you don't have the money for cilla's fry, and then you come CRAWLING back to the loving arms of sten's stockpot and our special. you fucking traitors. you'll be back! you'll all be back
canaljumpings follow
what's in the special sten's stockpot
stensstockpot follow
it's a surprise ;)
bertskerch follow
nah I thought this was the real stens lmao
stensstockpot follow
bert smit you still have 45 kruge to pay on your tab and if you don't cough up we'll send our debtors to break your legs
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exchangingbabey follow
my grisha girlfriend who still wears a kefta and says things like 'nikolai lantsov is a bastard': ugh they're still debating whether or not the council of tides should be able to control kerch shipping, I hate inter-country politics
me: I think I hauve the queen's lady
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(insp) (insp)
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sweet-s0rr0w · 1 year ago
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Vintage Drarry Fics
Thought I'd put together a list of some of the old Drarry 'classics' of my teenage years, for anyone interested. All posted between 2001-2006, compiled using my (bad) memory, a lot of googling, fanlore.org and numerous different LJ rec accounts (including the incredible @capiturecs). I checked as best I could, but if anyone knows of any fics that their author doesn't want to be shared, please let me know and I will of course remove.
Please also note that these fics are of their era, when attitudes may have been different, and they may not all be grammatically perfect. I haven't reread all, as my own tastes have changed, but most importantly do note that they may not be tagged - don't blame me when, for example, Harry dies tragically on a rooftop at sunrise...
Hogwarts Era (mostly 5th-7th year)
A Thousand Beautiful Things by Duinn Fionn/geoviki (M, 105k)
Draco Malfoy struggles with changed fortunes, shifted alliances, an ugly war, and an unusual spell, with the help of a concerned professor, an insightful house-elf, and an unexpected Gryffindor friend.
All Bets Are Off by Allegra (R, 53k)
I am SICK of Good-little-innocent!Harry...Enter Playboy!Harry and his Overinflated Ego, a challenge, a bet, a couple of Really Cunning Plans - and there you have it, "Forty days and forty nights", Hogwarts style. Mayhem ensues! 
Angels and Devils by beren (E, 52k)
Harry defeated Voldemort and his act of heroism is famous throughout the wizarding world. He's trying to finish his final year at Hogwarts in peace, but, thanks to the method he chose to destroy The Dark Lord, something peculiar is happening to him, something he never would have expected. It's all rather embarrassing and making his life very complicated.
Artful Facade by Sky Sorceress (T, 66k)
Sometimes you fly too close to the sun and lose your wings. With sixth year approaching, the danger Harry seeks can be found only in the form of Draco Malfoy. What follows is a twist in the line between hatred, love, and need.
Beautiful World by Cinnamon/Lissadiane (M, 70k)
Harry finds out he's going to die on his 16th birthday. He embarks on a journey of self-destructive behaviour and drags Draco along for the ride. 
Beneath You by Cinnamon/Lissadiane (M, 113k)
Draco had no idea that the repercussions of stealing Potter's journal and shoving it down the back of his trousers would be so extreme.
Bond by AnnaFugazzi (M, 173k)
It seems 95% of H/D writers feel compelled to write a "Harry And Draco Are Forced To Be Together By Something Beyond Their Control And Then Unlikely Stuff Happens That Leads To Twoo Wuv" story. Count me among the 95% ;)
Checkmate by Naadi Moonfeather (T, 245k)
Draco has the perfect plan to get Harry Potter and challenges him to a game of Dare Chess. But is it love, or betrayal, he has in mind?
The Cicatrix Cycle by Ivy Blossom (NC-17, long!)
Three parts: Origins, Haven, Belong
Draco In Darkness by Plumeria (T, 41k)
Following an accident in his seventh year, Draco loses his eyesight. After Harry elbows his way into Draco's dark world, both boys find themselves in a strange new friendship, and they each learn new ways to see each other … and themselves.
Eclipse by PhoenixSong/Mijan (T, 287k)
"You're dead, Potter... I'm going to make you pay..." Draco swore his revenge on Harry for Lucius's imprisonment, and Harry all but laughed at him. But Draco is planning more than schoolyard pranks this time. The old rivalry turns deadly when Draco abducts Harry for Voldemort. It's the perfect plan, guaranteeing revenge, power, and prestige, all in one blow. But, when Draco's world turns upside down, the fight to save himself and Harry begins, and the battle will take them both through hell and back. If they come back. 
Friend Like Me by Lady Vader (M, 11k)
Draco's rendition of the love story that never was.
How Harry Potter Got His Groove Back by Durendal/Eleveninches (R, 12k)
Snape tries to hang himself, Draco enters an alternate reality, and Harry Gets a Clue. Humor, SLASH, naughty language, and other Evil Things. Harry/Draco, Snape/James/Lucius.
Irresistible Poison by Rhysenn (PG-13, 124k)
Under the influence of a love potion, Draco learns that poison doesn't always bring death -- there are other ways to suffer and live. Chemical emotion runs feverish as Harry and Draco discover the intoxication of love.
Lettered by pir8fancier (M, 7.8k)
Harry has a secret penpal, whose identity is as plain as the nose on his face. Except he's not wearing his glasses.
Love Under Will by Aja (R, 116k)
In their 5th year, Harry and Draco choose to be with one another; but the story--and the battle-- is just beginning...
playing the game, living the lie by Abaddon (R, 159k)
Set in Sixth Year, both the wizarding and Muggle worlds are threatened as Voldemort plans a final revenge. Past, present and future collide as all must consider where their loyalties lie; who they are, and who they want to be. Amidst it all, Harry and Draco begin a dangerous journey of understanding. Is it possible to leave everything you thought you were behind?
Resolution by Frances Potter (R, 322k)
When you've spent six years fighting evil, all you really want is a quiet time. But when your name is Harry Potter the chances of that are very slim. A series of vignettes chronicling Harry's final six months at Hogwarts. Exams, friends, lovers, Quidditch, the war and Draco all conspire to make the year end seem a very long way away.
Seamus is Seamus and You are Yourself by Ari Munami (PG-13, 31k)
Harry goes through some er... changes in his Sixth Year and everyone, including Draco Malfoy, sits up and takes notice.
Snakes and Lions by GatewayGirl (M, 139k)
When Ron and Hermione get together, they notice only each other. A nightmare prompts Harry to return alone to the empty Chamber of Secrets, and leads to a new look at an old enemy. Harry enjoys the company, but with Bellatrix Lestrange actively hunting him, how far can he trust a Death Eater's son?
Something Impossible by epicylical/Cassandra Claire (PG, 6.4k)
As punishment for an act of vandalism, Draco is forced to perform three tasks to win Harry's forgiveness - only they don't turn out to be exactly the kind of tasks he'd been expecting. With wet shirtless Draco, paint-covered Harry, and Proust-reading Goyle.
Transformation by amalin (E, 98k)
In Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts, he must face the consequences of the attack on the Department of Mysteries and the effects of Voldemort's return. And in doing so, he finds that even your enemies can teach you valuable lessons—about the world, and about yourself.
Walking the Line by SilentAuror (E, 179k)
Sixth year is over and Draco Malfoy is on the run. The war is on and an unwanted assignment is forced upon him by the only people he trusts - and a one-time arch-enemy just may be out to kill him.
Post-Hogwarts
Adagio in G Minor by furiosity (NC-17, 18k)
Seven years after Hogwarts and the war, life continues in the wizarding world. Draco Malfoy is rich, bored, and slightly jaded. Harry Potter is famous, busy, and somewhat disillusioned. They've not seen each other since school ended. What would happen if they were to cross paths again? What if it involved music?
Big Dick, Come Quick [PDF] by Calanthe (NC-17, 204k)
Draco’s got a theory. About sex. And after much searching for the right candidate, it appears that only Harry Potter, his life long enemy, can help him test it out.
Draco's Escort Service by Cheryl Dyson/dysonrules (15, 12k)
Draco's job is to escort travelers through the dangerous, war-torn countryside. Harry Potter is forced to hire him, but his destination isn't quite what Draco expected.
Left My Heart by Emma Grant (E, 85k)
Auror Draco Malfoy has disappeared, and Harry Potter has been sent to San Francisco to find him. 
Malfoy, P.I. by Nancy (R, 60k)
"I'm Draco Malfoy, private investigator. I've seen a lot--I mean a lot, and I'm like sweet seventeen a lot. I thought I'd seen it all, until a pair of green eyes stepped into my office." A noir AU set in L.A. where passion and magic collide. Slashy and sexy.
Queen of Hearts by scoradh (E, 65k)
A spectre is haunting Harry - the responsibility of his destiny. It looms over his future and, more importantly, over the future of his friends. Harry is determined to exorcise this spectre for the greater good, but on the way, he enters into a few unholy alliances.
Tissue of Silver by fearlessdiva (R, 76k)
A love story concerning possessed furniture, black silk pyjamas, courtroom drama, premonitions of doom, assassination attempts, Death Eater yoga, absinthe, bare feet and a sensible werewolf.
Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by November Snowflake (M, 58k)
When the long-missing Draco Malfoy turns up at a Ministry field hospital with amnesia, bitter Auror Harry Potter must confront the shadows of their shared past to shed light on a potentially deadly mystery.
Transfigurations by Resonant (E, 71k)
Five years after Voldemort's defeat, Harry returns to England to help re-open Hogwarts.
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awriterinthenight · 1 month ago
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"You'll have to play something for me sometime"-Jess Mariano
words: 1301
warnings: none, but sorry I haven't posted in awhile, I was sick for a couple of days, but I'll be posting more this week. Also I haven't seen any rockstar!reader x Jess Mariano fics, so I decided to write one, if you like it maybe send a request and I'll write more. Also I gave reader a certain hairstyle just so it fit the story better, but you can ignore it if you want to.
summary: Lane's band is looking for a new guitarist, so reader joins them. After practice they head to Luke's where Jess meets reader, and is entranced by her.
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"Hi, I heard you guys were looking for a guitarist, is that right?"
The guy with the long blonde hair looked up first, taking in the girl in front of him, but it was the Asian girl with glasses who spoke first, "Yes, we are, do you play?" she asked, excited to maybe finally have a full band again.
"No, I just carry a guitar around for fun," she quipped at the girl's question, "I'm joking, I do. I can play something for you guys if you want." she said, moving her guitar to open the case.
The guy who first looked at me nodded, "That would be awesome."
She set up her guitar, borrowing an amp from one of them. She played one of her favorite songs for them "Highway to Hell'. It was basic, but very good, and she was phenomenal at playing it.
She'd barely just finished, when she looked up and saw the three people in awe, "So, can I be part of the band, or..." she asked, trailing off for someone to finish the answer.
"Play like that every time and you'll basically be running the band," the guy said, shocked by how good her performance was.
"We can't wait to practice with you, are you free now. If you are, can we start practicing, and you can learn some of our songs? I'm Lane by the way," the girl with glasses said, extending her hand.
The other girl shook her hand, "I'm Y/N, nice to meet you, and I don't really have anything to do, so sure."
Lane got even more excited, and started grabbing some of their songs to show me, "These are just some of the ones we've almost perfected, and these are our covers," she said, handing Y/N music sheets.
She just nodded listening to the other girl before the other guy started speaking, "Not to intrude, but I'm Zach, guitarist, and this is Brian, our bass," he introduced before asking, "Can you sing?"
The new guitarist nodded, "I've done theater for about 6 years, so yeah I think so."
"Great, we've been meaning for someone who can sing to do vocals, so will you?" Lane asked.
"Of course," Y/N said, happy to be part of a band.
Lane couldn't keep in her excitement, "We have to teach you some of our songs, here's my favorite," she said, handing her the song.
"Cool, let's get started then."
***
After practicing for over 4 hours, everyone was tired, and in desperate need of food. So, Lane suggested they all go to Luke's.
"Luke's?" Y/N questioned, since she wasn't from Stars Hollow.
"You're not from Stars Hollow, are you?" Lane asked, feeling a bit confused on how she found out about the band if she wasn't from around her.
She shook her head, "No, I'm from Hartford. I actually go to school with your friend Rory at Chilton. She was talking about her friend having a band, and they needed a guitarist, and I've been playing for years, and looking to join a band, so I thought why not. Now here I am," the girl explained, rambling a bit.
"Well then, looks like we have to get you acquainted with the area," Lane said, putting her stuff away, as the four of them left the garage, "Luke's is the best diner ever, and I mean that."
Y/N nodded, "I'll have to take your word for it, until I get some of this amazing food," she said, having a playful tone.
***
Walking into Luke's, people stared a bit at the girl, since they'd never seen her before. She looked like every rockstar girl ever, in her David Bowie shirt, black ripped jeans, leather jacket, and combat boots. Which was a rare sight to see someone unique like her in their small town.
One of the first people to take notice of her, was Jess Mariano. It wasn't hard for him to notice her. Especially since she stood out with her half hot pink dyed hair in the back of her head. To him there was something interesting about her. It was from the way she dressed, to the bitch face she seemed to be wearing, to the way she carried herself, walking into that small dinner.
"What can I get for you guys?" he asked, starting to take the band's order.
"I'll take a burger and fries, Zack wants a soda and club sandwich, and Brian wants his usual," Lane said, ordering for the boys who took a seat at a free table.
"Alright, and for Ziggy Stardust over here, what can I get you?" he asked, making a reference to her David Bowie shirt.
She couldn't help the small smirk that graced her lips, "I think I prefer Lady Stardust, but I'll just have a burger and fries," she said, making another reference to a David Bowie song, "And a coffee."
He looked at her, slightly impressed, "Alright then, your food will be ready soon," he said, putting the ticket in before turning back to the girl who started walking towards her table.
"You're not from around here, are you?" he asked, stopping her, making her turn around.
She smirked again, which made him feel entranced by her for some reason, "What would ever give you that notion?" she teased.
Jess shrugged, "I've just never seen you around, that's why," he said, now leaning against the counter.
"Well I'm not," she said, taking in a breath, "I'm from Hartford actually. I go to school with a girl from here, Rory Gilmore. She was talking about how her friend had a band, and they needed a guitarist, so I joined them, and now they're showing me around town," she explained.
Jess listened to her story, intrigued by the fact she played guitar, "You play guitar?" he questioned, placing down one of the band's plates of food.
"Been playing since I was ten. I always wanted to be in a band, so this was a perfect opportunity," she said, shrugging as she grabbed her food.
Jess smiled at her, a rare sight to see from the boy, "You'll have to play something for me sometime, do you know any Metallica?" he asked, placing down the last plate for her to grab for her table.
She smiled again, something Jess never wanted to stop seeing, "That's like asking if I play guitar," she joked, heading to her table with their food.
Jess smirked as the girl walked away. He kept looking at her throughout her time there. It was almost impossible for him to take his eyes off of her. Her laugh filled the diner and he wanted to listen to it for the rest of his days.
She was just about to leave when he stopped her by the door, "Hey, what's your name?" he asked, "Calling you Ziggy Stardust is fun, but I think it would get old quick."
"Y/N," she said, about to head out the door with the rest of the band.
He smiled at her again, "Y/N," he repeated, liking the way it sounded, "I'm Jess," he said, still thinking of how pretty her name sounded.
"I know," she said, making him look slightly confused, "The nametag gives it away," she told him, flicking the name tag as she walked out the door.
Jess scoffed at her action, but was rather intrigued by the girl, and amused by her actions even more. It wouldn't be long till the entire town knew about Jess and the mystery girl from Hartford. The next day the entire town would be asking who she was, and what spell she put on Jess to make him so smiley around her, and how he seemed to have a soft spot for her. 
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fairyhaos · 1 year ago
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❖ take care of me anyway // yoon jeonghan
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jeonghan x gn!reader, 1.7k+ words
tags: office worker!jeonghan not rlly relevant to the plot tho, sick fic, fluff, established relationship
warnings: brief fever-induced hallucinations ig?? but theyre rlly cute, pet names, reader has a cold
notes: im sick. like, 'i have a cold' sick. and i also have another sick fic planned so uhh yeah im a little Unwell in the head too
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There are ten minutes left of Jeonghan’s lunch break when you finally call him.
“Hello, my darling,” he says, his tone both parts dry and amused. “How are you?”
“Sick,” you reply, and even just that word sounds horribly bunged up. “But you knew that already, didn’t you? You called in sick for me.”
Jeonghan just hums, smiling a little as he adjusts the phone against his ear, walking down the street back to his company building. “Maybe I did.”
You don’t say anything for a moment, and he can almost hear you pouting on the other end of the line. There’s a rustling sound as you adjust yourself in bed, and he sighs.
“How sick are you?”
“Very,” you say, miserably, and then give a series of harsh, wet coughs that has him wincing. “Very sick. I only just woke up, but my head is just…” You don’t finish your sentence. Just make a very pained sound like a wounded puppy.
Jeonghan chuckles. “Gee, I wonder how you managed to get so sick. It’s not like walking home in the pouring rain without a coat makes you ill, isn’t it?”
You whine at that, upset. “Han, I told you, I was gonna call you but my phone was dead. I had no choice! Wanted to get home fast to see you,” you add in a mumble, sounding dejected.
He smiles at that. “It wasn’t like I was going anywhere, though,” he points out. “I was all comfortably squished on the couch. I wasn’t gonna disappear any time soon. You could’ve taken your time. Waited for the rain to pass.”
“Yeah, but still,” you huff petulantly, then sniff. “Can you make soup when you get back home?” you ask after a beat, and sniffle again. “And also buy some tissues? And meds? And give me cuddles?”
Jeonghan chuckles at how pitiful you sound, resisting the urge to coo. “No.”
“What?” You’re whining again, and you sound all bunged up but Jeonghan just smiles, amused. “But your darling Y/N is currently suffering the worst cold in the entire world.”
“But alas, I think my darling Y/N is the sole person to blame for this cold,” Jeonghan says, lips twitching upwards. “Don't you think so?”
“Come take care of me anyway.”
“No.”
You make a noise of discontent, sheets rustling as you shift around in bed again. “Hmph. Worst boyfriend ever. I’m breaking up with you.”
That makes him laugh, the stunned sound being pulled out of him by your deadpan tone, and he grins to himself out on the street, rounding the corner until his company building is in sight. “Whatever you say,” he singsongs. “I’ll see later, okay?”
“Whatever. Bye.” A pause. “Have a nice day.”
Jeonghan smiles as you hang up, looking fondly down at your contact name. He’s standing in front of the company entrance, now, and he has three minutes of his break left. Just enough time to get into the elevator and up to his office.
He pockets his phone, turns on his heel and traipses off to find the nearest pharmacy.
───────────── 🧂
You’ve been drifting in and out of sleep the entire day, constantly stuck in that drowsy, so-sick-that-nothing-feels-real state, and you’ve hallucinated Jeonghan coming home a total of thirteen times in the past five hours.
At least, you think it’s been five hours.
Maybe it’s been less than that.
Whatever. Time is weird.
The point is, your mind is all fuzzy and everything feels like it’s floating, so when someone who looks an awful lot like Jeonghan comes into the room, you just groan. Hallucination Jeonghan #14 has come to pay you a visit, it seems, so you just frown and give him the response that you’ve given all his other clones.
“Go away. Stop trying to sell me fish.”
Hallucination Jeonghan #14 makes a confused noise at that, walking closer to your bed, leaning over to adjust your pillows and pull you up into a more upright position.
“I don’t want your fish,” you say, just in case he didn’t hear you the first time. “Stop it.”
That makes the hallucination chuckle, and his hand comes up to your forehead. 
Cold. Huh. None of the other hallucinations touched you before.
His hand drops from your forehead, swiping at the soft skin under your eyes gently, and his fingers are blessedly cool against your skin. You hadn’t realised how much you were burning up before.
“You’re really, really sick,” Hallucination Jeonghan #14 murmurs, and he sounds so concerned, before pulling out a bottle of water from one of the plastic bags he’s holding. Woah, you hadn’t even realised he was holding them. “Here, darling. Drink.”
You obediently take a sip once he uncaps the lid for you, before making small noises of distress when some of it spills down your shirt. Hallucination Jeonghan #14 (wow was it a mouthful to say, even in your head) just hushes you gently, dabbing at it with tissues that he’d procured from the plastic bags. 
“It’s okay,” he says softly, and his hands take yours, clasping them around the bottle. Once you’re holding it, he gets up, and for a horrible moment, you think this hallucination is going to leave again. You kind of like this one.
“Where’re you going?” you ask, but it comes out as more of a slur of vowels. You’re not sure he understood a word.
 “Drink up,” is all he says. He fishes out a packet of pills from the bag (it’s like a magic bag, you think blearily. It seems to have everything inside it). “Have these as well, okay? I’ll go make that soup you wanted.”
You nod, blinking. Dutifully, you sip the water that the hallucination has left you, because really this was one of the most gentle, doting, Jeonghan-like Hallucination Jeonghan and it kind of feels like he really does have your best interests at heart. 
Unlike the other Hallucination Jeonghans, who just wanted to sell you fish. This one really seemed to care about your well-being. 
You blink again, slowly. 
Oh. 
By the time Jeonghan comes back with a gently steaming bowl of chicken soup on a tray with a mug of tea, you're more lucid than before, pouting at him as he comes closer, having remembered his last words before you’d hung up the phone.
“You said you weren’t going to take care of me.”
Jeonghan doesn’t say anything, setting the tray on the bedside table, before sitting down on the edge of your bed, wordlessly picking up the bowl and spoonfeeding you some soup. You open your mouth easily, and he hums in approval with a smile.
“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let my darling be sick all alone, hm?” he says. “I can’t do that. Especially if you’re also seeing hallucinations of me who are trying to sell you fish.”
He continues feeding you soup in tiny sips, and the entire situation feels weirdly vulnerable, with you propped up on pillows and Jeonghan making small noises of approval every time you successfully swallow a spoonful. Like you’re a little baby bird, or something.
But he smiles so lovingly at you the entire time, so it’s kind of hard to feel too embarrassed.
“Well done,” Jeonghan murmurs, once you’ve finished half of the bowl. Your boyfriend is affectionate, almost overbearingly so at times, always poking you in the side or pinching your cheeks or tweaking your nose, but the softness with which he treats you right now is a whole other level of affection entirely.
Jeonghan cares deeply for you. You know that. You’ve never doubted how much he loves you, and he never gives you reason to doubt it. But still, when he smooths down your hair and strokes the back of your hand and gazes at you so gently, it makes you realise yet again that oh God, he loves you.
“We’re going to get you to finish the rest of the soup in a minute,” he says, reaching down towards the plastic bag at his feet, “but first. I wanted you to have this.”
Out of the bag, he pulls out…
A fluffy bunny plushie.
You blink, tilting your head, sniffing in confusion and also to try and unblock your bunged up nose. “What?”
“Say hi to Jjongie,” Jeonghan says. “He came up to me when I was buying your soup, and I couldn’t not bring him home.” The bunny’s pink ears flop adorably into its eyes as he holds out the soft toy to you. It even has a cream coloured ribbon around its neck. “He’s gonna keep you company whenever I can’t be here for you.”
“Oh,” you say softly, taking Jjongie from him with a smile. You rub your thumb over the soft fur of the bunny’s cheek. “He’s adorable.”
Jeonghan beams, proud. “Of course he is. He’s a me-substitute.”
You look up at him, smiling. “Han, I—” You can’t finish your sentence, too choked up. Literally. You suddenly start coughing, hand coming up to cover your mouth, and Jeonghan rushes forward with the mug of tea and an opened box of tissues that he suddenly procured out of nowhere.
“Hey, it’s okay, no need to cry over it,” he says teasingly as you glare at him, eyes tearing up from how hard you’re coughing. You accept the tissues and, when he pushes the tea insistently in you direction, you take the mug too.
“Yeah, yeah.” You blow your nose with one hand and then drink the tea, noting with a smile the subtle notes of honey in it. “Thank you,” you add, softly, looking down at Jjongie in your lap. Jeonghan really has gone out of his way for you.
Jeonghan just shakes his head, picking up the soup bowl again. “Thank me once you get better,” he says. “You can take care of me after. I’ll probably be catching your illness from looking after you.”
You grin, blowing your nose again, and even you can’t miss the way that Jeonghan watches you, eyes devastatingly fond.
“Yeah, but you’re gonna look after me anyways, aren’t you?”
Jeonghan grins, unashamedly bright. He taps the spoon against your lips, smiling wider when you sip the soup, the mug of tea in your hands, Jjongie the bunny in your lap. 
“Duh. I love you too much not to.”
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fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @butiluvu @sakufilms @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @raevyng @isabellah29
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 months ago
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The Quiet Ones 3
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.
Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader
Note: I really gotta finish my paper (don't worry I'm like 3/4 done).
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
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The light is there again. Bright, green, searing into your vision as it shines against the wall, weaving in perfectly between the curtains. Every night. Taunting you. And in the morning, gone. 
Can you call it a pattern after only three days?  
You don’t know what to call it. You don’t know what he wants from you. If he wanted to hurt you, he would by now, wouldn’t he? Or is this a sick game he’s playing? Whatever it is, it’s madness.  
You sit up and grab your pillow. You cross the room to the door and close it behind you. You put the pillow on the couch and pull down the folded throw across the back. You don’t expect to sleep out here either but you won’t have to stare at the insufferable dot. 
You lay down on your back and sigh at the ceiling. You stare up at the plaster until your eyes close on their own. Your shoulders are tense, your back too, every muscle in you has been knotted for days. You tried a hot shower, even a bath, but both just made you feel vulnerable. You’ve never been overly comfortable being naked but now you feel as if he can see your every movement. 
You tried some exercises in an effort to loosen up too. Those only made you dizzy due to your lack of sleep and rationing. Those should be a sign for you to rethink your strategy but your only other option is to face the danger. You know better than that. 
You huff as the last gray days pile on you. You open your eyes and bring your hand up to your forehead, trying to rub away the stress. You pause as a gleam flashes over your flesh. You drop your arm back down and raise yourself on your elbows. 
Jeez. 
Right there in the middle of your chest is the dot, rather a sliver of it. You look up as it glints in between the verticle blinds. You drop back down. Fine, whatever, if he’s going to shoot, he should just get it over with. You hate this limbo. It’s easy when you know what you’re waiting for. This is just torture. 
A sudden jarring jingle cuts through the din. You sit up, heart beating. It isn’t the deafening gunshot you expected. The green laser ripples through the darkness as you stagger up to your feet and cover your ears. You follow the blaring noise into the bedroom. 
Your phone lights up on your nightstand, flashing as you cross the space. You grab it and quickly silence it, staring at the screen in confusion. You keep your phone on silent, always. You never really use it for more than your banking and emails. On the screen, you see a map of your neighbourhood and a speck pulsing at the centre; your apartment. Huh. 
You remember dismissing that feature before. Several times when you got the phone it kept offering to set up the ‘find your phone’ app but you figured you wouldn’t need it. Yet, here it is, chiming and chirping at you. It isn’t a coincidence. It’s him. 
You peer over at the window and the green glare pours through. You look down again and find the dot right there. You shake your head and back away, hugging yourself as you flee back into the living room. It’s all so messed up and confusing. You don’t get how this can be happening. 
You go into the kitchen. No windows to haunt you there. You put your phone down and lean on the counter as you hold your head. You blow out a breath and you close your eyes. 
You try not to let yourself ask the questions but you’re so tired, you can’t keep fighting this hard. Who is he? How did he find you? Was that day at the cafe the first? Were you so obtuse that you never noticed him before? Does any of it matter? 
The silence shatters again as your phone erupts in a cacophony once more. You back away and cup your ears. You’ve never done well with noise, especially loud noise, or too much at once. It’s a sort of dissonance that makes your head spin. 
You scramble to grasp the phone, eardrums pulsing, and you hit the button again to hush it. You close out of the app and a notification pops up at the top of the screen. For a moment, you’re confused. The only messages you get are obvious scammers or stupid adverts you need to unsubscribe from. 
‘Get some beauty sleep.’ 
You scowl as you stare at the text. What does that even mean? Even if the number is private, you don’t need to guess. You know it’s him. He’s messing with you. You won’t respond, not even in writing. You delete the conversation entirely and shut the phone off. 
You leave it on the counter and go back to the couch. The laser awaits you. You lay down under it and resign yourself to your fate. The only comfort is he’s still out there and you’re in here. A ripple of fear courses through you as you wonder how long that can last. 
👄
Your mail doesn’t come to your door. It’s left in one of the dozens of metal boxes near the front door. Typically you go down to grab it twice a week. You haven’t gone once in the last six days. You don’t plan on it either. You get digital statements for everything anyhow. 
Yet, that doesn’t stop the special delivery from sliding underneath the door. You’re in your kitchen when you hear the soft whoosh. You go to the doorway and stare at the envelope on your floor as you lazily stir your instant coffee. You’re too tired to react with more than a yawn. 
You think it could be a notice from the building. They usually leave one when they have to do an inspection. Yet, there’s not sign of the rental companies logo and the envelope is black. You doubt they’ve rebranded. 
You sip from your coffee and sit at your desk. You login to the portal and open up a task. You don’t need to worry about all that. You muster all you have left for your daily toil. It’s the one thing you can’t forego; the one thing you share in common with other people, you need money to survive. 
You empty the coffee with careless gulps as you key through several tasks. The hours drag by, the clock ticking in the corner of the screen, second by second, minute by grueling minute. The days don’t matter, they all blend together in this hazy purgatory. 
You’re drawn from your mindless typing by the agonising growl of your stomach. You’re starving. Those times when you do let yourself eat, it isn’t much. Finally, your humanly needs have overcome your lack of appetite. You can’t deny it any longer. 
You return to the kitchen with your empty mug. You go to rinse it and water spurts forth, for just a second, then the pipes grind and run dry. You put the cup in the sink and cross your arm. You march out to the bathroom and try the sink in there with the same result. The faucet in the tub runs a little longer but peters out to a single drip. 
Hm, maybe that’s what the letter’s about. 
You sweep back out and scoop up the envelope. Just bending down makes you see stars. You put it on the counter and go to the cupboard to take out the salted crackers. You unfurl the top of the sleeve and wiggle one out. You munch on the stale square and slip your thumb under the flap of the envelop and tear. 
You put down the crackers and rip open one end of the envelope. You shake out the contents. It isn’t a letter. Just a folded pamphlet with something smaller inside. You unfold the spa booklet to uncover the all-inclusive pass within. You drop both and grip your head. 
Is this some sort of bribe? Bait? He’s trying to draw you out and with what? The worst experience you could think of? The smells, the touching, the people... 
You put it all back in the envelope. You don’t want it. You don’t even want it in your apartment. Your safe space. He’s invading it little by little. He can’t have it.  
You go to the door and shove it back under the bottom. You push it as far as you can and fall back, catching yourself on the wall. Your head hurts, you’re tired, you’re stressed, you’re afraid. You just want everything to go back the way it was. You want to be alone. That’s all you ever wanted. 
👄
You use your phone to authorise the two-factor sign-in to your bank account. You set it aside after confirming and wait for the screen to load. Your heart nearly stops as you see the balance. A few times you came too close to the red but this is not what you’re expecting. There’s about fifty thousand dollars extra. It has to be an error. 
You click on your chequing and bring up the next screen. There is is ‘50,000’ in bold green letters but it doesn’t say where it’s come from, just ‘authorised payment’ next to it. What the heck does that mean?  
Right below it you see your work deposit. That appears as usual. Company name, amount, account number. So what happened? 
You click the chat icon at the bottom of the page and wait for an agent to connect. You go through the typical automated questions; what is your issue? Account number? All of that. When you finally have a representative and explain the extra zeros in your account, the response is only three dots. 
You shake your head. You don’t need this. You have enough going on. Your water’s still out, you’re almost out of coffee, and you haven’t even started work. Halfway through and it feels like you’ve only just started a new week. You frame your face as you await the response. 
‘Hello, miss. Thank you for your patience. We have found no error in this transfer.’ 
You lean back and whine. That doesn’t make sense.  
‘Can I know where the money came from?’ You type. 
‘The payee is listed as London Fog LLC. It appears to be a business payment.’ 
You close your eyes. What? That makes no sense. It... can’t be. 
‘Can you reverse the payment, please?’ You input. 
‘We can attempt to reverse this. This might take a few days to process. We will keep the ticket open until this is done.’ 
‘Thank you.’ 
You close out the chat. That’s as best as you can do. It’s all so weird and you can’t deny the nagging truth. It’s not an error or a coincidence. It’s that stranger. He is playing a very confusing game. 
Your phone lights up and your eyes flit down. You lean in to glimpse the notification before it minimises. ‘Happy hump day <3’. You quickly black out the screen and flip it over. Leave me alone! 
👄
You almost expect the knock on your door. Deep down, you knew it was coming. Noon, on the dot. It’s Wednesday. 
“London Fog express!” He calls through. “Ew, this one’s gone a bit bad.” 
You hear him shifting around before the handle turns without give. He wiggles it and sighs. He huffs and you can tell by his shadow he’s leaning on the door. 
“Look, jellybean, I came all the way here, even burnt myself on this thing,” he says through the door, “you know, I’ve had some late nights...” he pauses as you sit silent, unmoving at your desk. “You don’t have to do more than open the door and take the cup. Promise, I won’t try nothing. I mean, I’ve been pretty patient, haven’t I?” 
You press your fingers to the edge of your desk to keep from shaking. 
“Right, I guess... I haven’t even introduced myself. How forgetful. Name’s Lloyd, but you could call me like L or love bear or... snookums. Something sweet like that.” 
You can’t. You’re going to pass out from absurdity. This man is psychotic. 
“You know, I’m a pretty handsy—handy guy. I could fix that water issue you got going on--” 
Holy cow. How does he know—how could he? He wouldn’t be able to just shut off your water. Right? 
“See, I get you, baby face, you’re the quiet type. You like to keep to yourself. That’s fair but everyone needs someone. I see that now,” he rambles through the door as it groans against his lean, “I didn’t before. Then I saw you and everything changed. It’s me and you, cupcake.” 
You stand and shudder, walking stiffly around the corner and towards the door. You step up and try to see through the peep hole. It’s still black. You exhale and sniff. 
“What do you want?” You croak. 
Silence. The door shifts as he takes his weight off of it. He soles scuff on the other side. 
“Hi,” his voice softens, “how are you, jellybean?” 
You close your eyes. You just want an answer. You cross your arms and rocks, a soothing gesture as your nerves bubble up. 
“Yeah, that’s okay, I know you’re not much of a talker. We balance each other out like that. I’m doing okay, you know? Cafe was a bit crowded but I got your latte. Foam shouldn’t have fallen yet so if you just want to open--” 
“What do you want?” You step closer to the door and raise your voice. 
He scoffs into a hum, “isn’t it obvious, babes?” 
You open your eyes and bit your upper lip. 
“You, baby cakes. Simple as that,” he drawls, “so why don’t you grab your tea and we can have a little sit down.” 
“Go away.” 
He huffs and clicks his tongue, “don’t be like that, sweetie.” 
“I don’t know you--” 
“I’m Lloyd, your love bear--” 
“Stop. I want you to leave me alone.” 
Another sharp exhale from the other side. A lull that prickles across your skin. 
“I can’t do that.” 
You wince, “please...” 
“All you have to do is open the door, jellybean. You know I’m a good guy. I’ve been looking out for you. Every night,” something drags down the door. “You can’t lock yourself away forever.” 
You step back and lean on the wall weakly. He’s delusional and you’re so tired. You’re almost tempted to open the door just to get it over with. You sink down onto your butt and hug your knees. 
“No.” 
That’s all you say. It’s all you can eke out.  
He taps on the door lightly and sucks his teeth. “Well, guess I gotta amp up my game.” 
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ethereal-writes · 2 months ago
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Toy Jail (Ft. Lucifer and GN! MC)
Warnings: Romantic relationship
Length: 0.8k words
Genre: Fluff, slight hurt/comfort
A/N: Whoah! First fic in how long? What’s even more wild, I wrote this and am posting it on the same day! And even wilder? It’s Lucifer centric! I’m super excited to start posting again.
As always, if I’ve missed any warnings, please feel free to let me know! Enjoy!
-Ethereal (✿◡‿◡)
Story below, please don't claim as your own!
Lucifer sighed, hanging up his coat. He had finally made it back to the House of Lamentation after a long day of the usual nonsense.
The day had started off relatively calm. He’d spent the first part of his morning in your room, working on his paperwork. His own desk was entirely covered in papers he had yet to even start, so working there would have been virtually impossible. Besides, he didn’t mind spending time with you anyway.
Then it had all gone downhill. He’d been forced to intervene in his brother’s shenanigans once again when he started hearing explosions from the kitchen— they had been trying to follow a recipe exploding cheesecake. Seriously? Why had they thought that was a good idea in the first place?
After he’d dealt with that, Lord Diavolo contacted him, letting know he had some more work for him to pick up. So, off Lucifer had gone to pick it up. At least these papers wouldn’t need to be high on his priority list.
He arrived back home just in time to diffuse a massive brawl between Levi and Mammon. Something about Mammon selling off some of Levi’s figurines or posters or some…sort of anime paraphernalia that had nearly resulted in Levi summoning Lotan.
 By the time that had all been dealt with, he had just enough time to wrangle his brothers into looking vaguely presentable before shoving them all out the door in order to make it to the student council meeting.
Now he was home, exhausted, and he still hadn’t finished the damn papers he’d left on your desk. He made it to your door, knocking three times and waiting until he heard you call for him to come in.
You were sitting on your bed, doing the last few bits of homework you’d been assigned before the weekend. You offered him a smile. “Hey, how was your day?”
He hesitated at your slightly off tone but decided he didn’t have the energy to figure it out right now. “Very long, my love. And unfortunately, still not over.” He turned to the desk to return to his papers…but they weren’t there anymore. He turned to you with a quizzical look. “Have you seen the papers I left here?”
“Your papers?” A slightly…smug look came over your face. “Yes, I have.” You gestured to a plastic tub in the corner of the room, which, sure enough, contained the stack of documents.
“Ah, thanks.” He went to go retrieve them but paused when you held up your hand.
“Ah, ah,” you said, standing up. You gestured to the box. “Your papers are in toy jail.”
“Toy jail?” He repeated. He glanced at the tub, seeing the label on it. “…what does that mean?”
“It’s a common punishment in the human world. When a child leaves their toys out where they aren’t supposed to, their toys get put into a box, or “toy jail”. To earn them back, usually they have to do some sort of chore. I got so sick of everyone leaving their stuff here I decided to implement something similar in my room.”
Lucifer huffed. He really didn’t have the time nor energy to deal with this today…though he couldn’t help but find it a little endearing. “So…you’re punishing me like a child?”
You nodded.
He sighed in mostly false annoyance. “You’re saying that I…the Avatar of Pride, the eldest, one of the most powerful demons in hell…may not retrieve my paperwork from a plastic tub in your room…because you said so…because this is how children are punished in the human world.”
You finally looked up from your homework to give him a smirk. “Uh-huh.”
He groaned, though it was really difficult to pretend to be annoyed when you were looking at him like that.
“And…what is it you’re asking me to do in exchange for their…” bail”?” He asked. He took a seat beside you on the bed, leaning back slightly to look down at you.
“I want to watch a movie with you and order takeout.”
“I…huh?” He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting you to say, but it definitely wasn’t that. “Out of everything you could ask…that is what you want?”
You nodded. A slight frown tugged at your lips. “Yeah. You’ve been so busy lately, you’re overworking again. And…I feel like I haven’t spent time with you in a while. I miss you.”
Oh.
Well, that softened him up immediately, and the guilt pulled at his heart. “…it…has been a while, hasn’t it? I’m sorry, I’m just…terribly busy…”
You nodded. “No, no, I know. But…I finished the paperwork you left here while you were gone. It was pretty easy, just…really…really tedious. So…can you maybe spend the rest of the night with me?” You asked hopefully.
Well…he definitely couldn’t say no to that. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you to lean against him. “…of course I can, dearest.”
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badomensbaby · 9 months ago
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so into you. lrh
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pairing: luke hemmings x fem!reader
summary: luke hemmings, a voice actor you've been working closely with for quite some time, ends up confessing just how into you he really is.
warnings: 18+ only. minors DNI. flirting/flustering, protected smut, degradation, praise kink, slight sir kink, dom/sub undertones, swearing, oral sex (female receiving), mask kink, explicit sexual content.
words: 4,680
a/n: iiiiii cannot express where i came up with this idea. i don't mention explicitly in this fic what video game luke's working on but in my head, it's COD MW3. (i may have a small obsession with ghost. whatever.) but alas, i left this fic alone for like a week and finished it on a whim. enjoy. x
feedback and constructive criticism welcome. requests are open!
Copyright © 2024 badomensbaby. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.
Ah, Luke Hemmings, the bane of your existence. 
It’s not that you hate him or anything, unless feeling so sick to your stomach because he’s too damn pretty to be working as a voice actor counts as hate, then maybe. But it’s really quite the opposite. 
You’ve been working at the video game development studio for almost two years. Your title has changed far too many times, as well as your responsibilities, but you get to see ideas come to life from the loose concept to the console screen so you can’t complain too much. 
Right now, you’re in the middle of a contract for a multiplayer war game. It’s a sequel, or a prequel- whatever, it doesn’t really matter. The franchise has been around for ages but they’re always coming up with new content and it’s part of your job to make sure every voice and cgi actor are dressed and ready to perform accordingly. 
Even though your manager can be a little overkill, like how he demands any voice actor be in full dress while they’re in the recording booth. It really doesn’t do much for their performance but your manager refuses to listen. 
You’re in the middle of skimming through your to-do list for the day. There’s three people who still need to get some lines of dialogue done for the storyline of the video game so it’s your responsibility to make sure they don’t fuck around in the booth all afternoon. First up, and is already late, is none other than Luke. 
It doesn’t surprise you. Despite looking like a total diva with his sharp jaw and soft, fluffy blonde curls that seem to be immune to any humidity, always laying so perfectly, he was probably the sweetest guy in the industry you’d ever met. Always polite and charming. Sometimes you think he might be flirting with you but it’s likely he’s just that nice. 
A paper cup of branded coffee suddenly invades your vision, blocking your view of the list you’ve been working on all morning. It’s warm and smells like cinnamon, your favorite. Looking up, way way up because he’s impossibly tall, is Luke, with a half-crooked smile and bright blue eyes. 
“Mornin’ Miss Y/N,” he says, despite the cheeriness on his face his voice is slightly raspy. You try not to think about it too much. It’s only eight am and you’re stuck listening to Luke in the booth until noon. “Blonde roast with cinnamon. You still drink that, right?”
Skeptically, you take the cup from him. Luke doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest by your hesitance. “Thank you?” It’s meant to be a statement but it slips out as more of a question. “Is this why you’re late, Hemmings?”
A glint of mischief flickers in his eyes. “Why, were you worried about me?”
Your stomach seems to flutter rather easily at his words. Shut up, brain! Luke’s a coworker, stop it. “We’ve only got four hours in the booth and almost fifty lines of dialogue,” You roll your eyes, trying to remain professional. “We need every minute we can get.”
“Fair enough, I’ll go get dressed. Have you got my gear ready?” Luke sips at his own drink and you can smell it from where you stand only a foot away. Chai tea latte with hazelnut. Man has taste. 
“Yeah,” You clear your throat, trying to keep your eyes away from the frothy milk of his latte dribbling down the side of his lip. Christ. “Yeah everything’s ready to go. Just get your gear on and meet me in the booth.”
“Aye aye, captain,” The blonde mock-salutes you with a wink, before heading off to his dressing room down the hall. Thankful for the ability to properly breathe again, you quickly shake your head and go inside of the small recording studio and begin to organize the dialogue Luke’s meant to be working on this morning. 
It’s almost as if you forget how to operate when Luke steps into the small room. It’s only the two of you today, as the sound technician won’t be in until later but you have a decent grasp on which recorded lines will sound best in the final production. 
Luke’s already absurdly tall, well over six feet but with his full gear on he’s pushing halfway to seven feet. With thick combat boots on his feet, and full camo gear covering every inch of his lengthy body. A thick, heavy armor carrier plate is fixed against his chest, and his mask is held loosely in his hand. You force yourself to swallow the thick lump stuck in your throat. 
“Can you turn the air on?” Luke asks, oblivious to how you’re struggling to breathe when he looks like that. “M’gonna fuckin’ roast in there if you don’t.”
“Yeah- yeah, sure,” You stumble both verbally and physically, barely managing to catch yourself as you twist behind you to turn the air a little cooler in the small room. It won’t help the flush that’s spreading across every inch of your body. You can’t face him yet, so you pretend like changing the temperature is a little more time consuming than it really is. “You can go ahead whenever.”
The sound booth’s door shuts with a soft click. Your heart’s beating a little hard but at least there’s thick glass separating yourself and Luke now, and once you’re sitting with headphones on you’ll barely be able to see him. God, what a terrible time to remember that stupid masked man fantasy of yours. 
Luke does well, as usual, hitting the perfect low pitch for his character that your manager hired him for. He plays the character well, you have to admit, hearing his voice rasped and grovely is almost too much. You lower the volume on the headphones just to spare yourself the embarrassment of getting worked up. 
It’s eleven-thirty when he finishes up. Every line of dialogue is near perfect and you’re sure they’ll make production without a hitch, so you have no qualms about turning off the recording light that illuminates the hall outside of the small studio. 
You’re in the process of organizing the recorded files for the sound technician to look over when Luke steps out of the booth. 
Instead of peeling the mask from his head, he left it on, his gloved hands clasped on the doorframe a few inches above his head. Christ, he looks like he stepped out of a fairly inappropriate fantasy dream you could conjure up after a glass or two of wine. “Even got time to spare.”
You can tell Luke’s smirking beneath the black and white mask, if the glimmer in his baby blue eyes is anything to go by. You just blink, too dumb to come up with anything to say, pulling the headphones to rest around your neck. “Uh- you- you did great.”
“Thanks, Miss Y/N,” his head cocks, helmet almost knocking into the side of the door frame but Luke doesn’t notice. “I love when you compliment me. I know you mean it.”
Your cheeks feel hot. It’s too warm in here, that’s all. Maybe the air isn’t working or something. “I do mean it,” you say softly. “You’re a great voice actor. I’d be lying if I said otherwise.”
Luke drops his hands from the door frame, instead leaning against it, his eyes still fixed on you. “You okay over there? You look a bit flushed.”
“M’fine sir- Luke,” You quickly clear your throat, hoping Luke hadn’t caught your stupid slip up. How fucking embarrassing, do you not have a filter? Suddenly a man all dressed up in gear and a mask has you calling him sir? Get a grip! 
“Sir?” Luke echoes, his voice syrupy sweet and laced with curiosity. “That’s a new one. Usually all I get from you is Hemmings. I like that, you should call me sir more often.”
You want to look away but it’s impossible. Like a damn car crash, your eyes are fixated on the tall man. It’s fucking sinful how good he looks like that. “It was- it was nothing, don’t read into it.” You deflect. 
“Yeah, okay,” Luke says sarcastically, followed up by a slow, dramatic sigh. “It’s a shame, though. Figured you’d finally admit you’re into me so I can stop pining after you in silence.”
Your eyes widen. “What?” 
A low laugh erupts from Luke’s chest. “Don’t tell me you’re that oblivious, Y/N. I’ve been obsessed with you since day one. Why do you think we’re always working together?”
“My manager said I’m doing well-“
“That was after I gave him season passes to every game the Dodgers play, sweetheart. Told him I won’t work for him unless m’with you.”
Your brows knit in confusion. Has your growth within your position all been at Luke’s doing? You’ve been working with him nearly as long as you’ve been with the company. And suddenly it all makes sense. 
Why your manager never seemed to care what you’ve been working so hard for, complimenting you regardless of any efforts shown to him. Why he doesn’t hang around the studio anymore to micromanage your every move. 
You stand abruptly. “You asshole!” The words escape without a second thought. “You bribed my manager so you could work with me? That’s- that’s…”
“I thought you’d be flattered,” Luke says, almost somberly but you know he’s anything but. He’s a voice actor for crying out loud, he can make himself sound however he wants, regardless if it’s real. “What’s the big deal anyway? You have almost total freedom and you’re stuck with me all the time. It’s a win-win.”
Whatever attraction you have towards Luke is pushed to the back burner of your mind. Yeah, you have a stupid crush on him but how could he meddle with your job like that? The two of you aren’t even friends, he had no right.
“That wasn’t your decision to make. Who knows now if I’m doing well because of me or because of you? Terry could be spewing bullshit about my performance reviews to keep you happy!”
“You’re being dramatic,” Luke drones lazily. “Of course you’re doing well because of you. All I did was keep us working together, s’not like I fucking paid Terry off to give you a promotion.”
“I don’t know that!” You yell frustratedly, fists balling at your sides. “God- you- take that fucking mask off, would you?”
Luke remains still. “Now why would I do that?” he asks lowly, stepping toward you. Your shoulders draw inward, despite your attempt to keep confident. “Clearly it’s distracting you. Which I think is working in my favor.”
“It’s not.” You mutter weakly. 
“Liars aren’t cute,” Luke tuts. “What, does my mask get you all hot and bothered, Miss Y/N? Huh? Because I’m bigger than you? Because I can do anything I want to you and you can’t stop me?”
“Luke-“
“Tell me I’m wrong, Y/N,” his voice impossibly lowers, until it’s a hushed rasp, his chest only a mere few inches from yours. Craning your neck to look up at him easily makes you weak in the knees. You know he’s right and you can’t find the words to tell him otherwise. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
Your lip quivers nervously. The words are right there, the lie you could easily spew but it won’t make it off of your tongue. His eyes are too dark to resist, swirls of pretty blue swallowed by his pupils. Blown out and expectant. “You..”
“You can’t, can you? Because you know I’m right,” Luke continues, clearly feeding off of the nerves you’re trying to swallow down. It’s written all over your face, you’re sure of it. Like a book printed in size twenty bold font. “I’m not stupid, Y/N. I see the way you look at me. I watch you quiver every time I put my gear on,”
Nothing escapes you except a helpless, trembling whimper. One of Luke’s gloved hands slowly raises to push a strand of loose hair behind your ear. Your eyes are nearly brimming with tears of frustration, of how badly you’re ready to give in to him, of how stupid you feel, wet and desperate between your thighs. It’s the mask, you try to tell yourself, but it’s useless because you know damn well it’s a lie. 
It isn’t the mask, rather the person behind it. Luke’s probably the most attractive person you’ve met in a long time, it was inevitable you’d end up crushing on him, but when he’s in full dress you can’t deny there’s something inside of you that seems to light a flame inside of you that’s impossible to put out. 
“What is it you like so much, hm?” Luke’s head cocks curiously, his cloudy eyes slowly raking over your body. You can tell he’s smirking beneath the mask at how tightly your hands are balled into fists at your sides, holding yourself back from doing something you shouldn’t. “You know what I think? I think you like giving up control. Obeying. Submitting. And when I’m dressed like this you really have no choice but to listen to me.”
“Luke..” your lips weakly spew the man’s name out. He seems to hum in content, he knows you’re close to giving in. He wants to push you over that line. Cross it with no shame. “I..”
Luke’s gloved hand grasps your jaw, firmly but delicately, so much so that it makes your head feel dizzy. “Speak up,” he demands lowly. “Tell me what you want.”
“I..” You can hardly meet his eyes. It’s pathetic of you, trembling like this and stuttering over yourself. Luke knows it too. “I want.. you.”
“Me?” He echoes, but it sounds a little demeaning the way it falls from his mouth. “You’re not giving me much to work with here, Y/N. Better spit it out.”
“I.. want..” Your eyes threaten to fall shut. You’ve never really been confident when it comes to sex but there’s something about the way Luke’s speaking to you that makes you feel a bit bold. Maybe it’s a leap but fuck, you won’t know unless you try. 
With a trembling, hesitant hand, you grasp Luke’s unoccupied wrist, slowly drawing his hand downwards until it’s caressing your clothed core. “You. Please.”
Luke actually whimpers. It could easily be mistaken for a breathy sigh but you’ve been listening to this man’s every vocality for years, you know nearly every noise he can make. “Christ, Y/N,” It’s as if he wasn’t expecting your bold move. “I swear to God I’ll fuck you right here. I will, if you’ll let me.”
“Yeah- yes,” You frantically nod, too dizzy to provide any other words of confirmation. It’s all Luke needs, really, before he’s pressing his hand harder against your damp underwear, warm and inviting, he swears he can almost feel your arousal through his glove. “Luke, please.”
“Yeah, m’gonna take care of you, promise,” Luke releases your jaw, working to strip his gloves from his hands. You almost whimper from the loss of contact but you know what’s coming next is far better than a measly touch outside of your pants. “Gonna be a good girl for me, Y/N?”
You whimper out something along the lines of “yes” that Luke seems to be satisfied with because he’s planting a firm hand on your shoulder and spinning you around, using his grip to shove your body forward until your palms collide with the sound booth’s desk. Careful to avoid pressing any buttons you shouldn’t, you adjust yourself slightly, breaths heavy as Luke shuffles behind you. 
You can feel how hard he is through the thick, camo pants he’s wearing, cock strained against the fabric and digging into your backside. Your toes curl inside of your shoes. He feels big. You feel Luke’s fingers tease at the waistband of your jeans. “Can I?”
“Yes- fuck,” You mutter through gritted teeth. There isn’t anything for you to properly hold on to while Luke’s fingers work to unbutton and unzip your jeans, before shimmying them down your hips and the swell of your ass, leaving them pooled just above your knees. 
“Don’t have a lot of time, Y/N, Mark’s up next isn’t he?” Luke slowly teases his fingers along the dampened material of your underwear, resulting in the soft arch of your back as your hips move closer to him. “Such a shame. The things I’d do for a taste of that pretty pussy..”
“Luke, can you just-“ You’re filled to the brim with frustration, desperately wet and on the edge of bratty at the amount of time Luke’s wasting. He seems to understand easily, because a hand comes down on your left cheek, leaving a pretty little pink handprint on your skin. 
“Don’t be a fuckin’ brat,” Luke says around a scoff, sliding your underwear down to join your jeans a little rougher than necessary. “Just for that, m’gonna fuckin’ do it. Don’t care if Mark comes in here to see my tongue deep inside your needy cunt.”
Luke’s words are sent straight to your core, stupidly wet and braindead from how badly you’re soaking the skin between your thighs. You hear the sound of Luke’s knees hitting the carpeted floor, the sound of his mask shuffling and the feeling of his warm breath on your flushed skin. 
Luke’s thumbs sink into your flesh easily, spreading you fully for him, your body falling further forward and ass in the air. You know you’re glistening pathetically, all for a hot blonde voice actor in some stupid war gear. “Y/N, you’re fuckin’ drenched. Holy shit,” Luke mumbles in disbelief. “You’re so goddamn pretty.”
You aren’t sure if Luke’s going to continue speaking but it doesn’t matter, his tongue’s busy trailing a fat, long stripe along your heat. Christ, his tongue is so goddamn warm, humming happily against you as he works, alternating between suckling your clit between his teeth and nuzzling his nose against you. Like he just can’t get enough. 
Blindly, your hand slips and without either of you being aware, the recording light outside of the small room has been illuminated. 
“You taste so fucking good, Y/N. So goddamn good,” He hums again before diving back in, practically fucking his tongue inside of you every which way, like he’s claiming you and drawing his name with every lick. You let out a soft, helpless cry when his teeth graze your clit again. “Could eat your pretty pussy for hours, baby. Wanna spread you out on my bed like a fuckin’ feast.”
“Luke-“ Your voice wobbles, a desperate breath following. You’re so fucking lightheaded it’s insane, all you crave is Luke inside of you. “Luke, please. Please fuck me.”
“Yeah baby, gonna fuck you,” Luke presses a quick, messy kiss against your clit before he pulls back, running his tongue along his lips to gather any excess. You don’t hear him slip the mask back on but you definitely hear his belt unbuckle, along with the fly of his camo pants. “Look at you, what a fuckin’ dream. Bent over and fuckin’ soaked, begging for my cock.”
The sound of Luke tearing a condom packet open with his teeth catches your attention. You hardly have enough strength to look over your shoulder but he’s already rolling the latex over his dick that’s just out of your view. “Where did you get-“ You don’t get to finish your sentence because the words die out in your throat, replaced with a strangled gasp as you feel the head of Luke’s cock slowly trail up your wetness. “Oh, fuck.”
Luke makes a smug, pleased sound before slowly pressing inside of you. And yeah, fuck, he’s definitely bigger than anyone you’ve slept with. Which, honestly, hasn’t been very many people. “Yeah, that’s it,” You hear Luke sigh behind you, hands attaching to your hips as he continues to feed his dick further inside. “Fuck, you’re swallowing my cock up. So desperate for it, aren’t you?”
It’s almost too much. Your eyes pinch shut, teeth sinking into your lower lip to keep the tears at bay. He’s stretching you out so good every inch he sinks inside, until he’s buried to the hilt and stills his hips. “Luke.. fuck, you’re- you’re big.”
You hear Luke chuckle behind you. His fingertips press harder into your hips. “What’s the point of being so cocky if I don’t have anything to show for it?” he says, amused but a little breathless. He’s just as affected by your tight warmth as you are by his sizable dick. “Don’t tell me it’s too much for you, Y/N. You’re a big girl, I know you can take it.”
“Just.. give me a minute?”
“We don’t have enough time, baby,” Luke says soothingly, almost somberly. “I promise you’ll get used to it.”
You intake a sharp, quick breath as Luke withdraws his hips. It’s definitely too big. There’s no way you’ll be able to fuck anyone ever again without remembering how full Luke made you feel.
 Then Luke snaps his hips forward and the tears you were desperately trying to hold back fall freely down your cheeks. A borderline scream falls from your mouth and you tighten around his dick, only drawing a groan deep from Luke’s throat as he begins thrusting in a steady, needy rhythm. 
So quick and forceful that the sound of his hips snapping against your backside echoes the sound room. So desperate that your body falls forward, chest splayed against the desk and Luke’s carrier plate wedged into your back, his masked breaths deep and warm on your neck. You cry out from the new angle, hitting that perfect spot inside of you. “Oh fuck- Luke- god- right there, fuck-“
“Yeah?” Luke asks in a low moan, digging his blunt fingernails into your waist as his thrusts grow more determined and quick, your body rucking upwards from his forceful movements. All you can do is wail and whine against the desk helplessly. “God, Y/N, you feel so good wrapped around my cock. Lettin’ me fuck you, such a good girl.”
Your position is definitely uncomfortable but you’re too cockdrunk to even care. You know you’ll cum soon, especially when Luke’s fucking you at such a brutal pace there’s a tingling that’s spreading from your toes all the way to your spine. You clench around Luke’s cock, only soaking your thighs further as more arousal coats his covered length. 
“Baby, fuck,” Luke’s voice is strained, one hand detaching from your hip to grab at your hair, fisting the strands between his fingers, craning your neck upwards until his masked mouth settles near your ear. “You’re fuckin’ soakin’ my cock, Y/N. Wonder what Mark would think if he found me buried in this sweet little pussy, huh? Think he’d be jealous? Of how desperate you are for me?”
“Oh my god-“ You know it’s coming, your legs feel like static and your head is spinning. Your vision’s beginning to blur as the beginning of your orgasm starts to crash over you. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Luke-“
“Call me sir,” He’s fucking relentless, pounding into you like he’s got something to prove. It’s messy and slippery and wet, echoing the small room. “Call me sir and you can cum, Y/N.”
“Oh sir, oh my god sir-“
“Come on baby, that’s it, cum all over my cock,” Luke coaxes you, breathing warmly against the skin of your neck. Your nails scratch desperately on the desk as you finally let go, letting out a long string of pleading moans as you finish, clenching tightly around him. “Oh christ- Y/N- yeah, that’s my good girl.”
“Oh my god..” Luke doesn’t stop even after you’ve finished, snapping his hips more forcefully than before. 
“Fuck, gonna cum,” Luke pants out. “Wanna cum all over your pretty face. Can I? Please baby, want it so bad.”
“Ye-yeah,” You half mumble, half moan. 
Your body’s in Luke’s hands as he quickly slips out of you, discarding the condom and wrapping a hand around himself, helping you slink back until you’re on your knees. Confused, you’re unable to question why you’re facing the wrong way until Luke’s hand is on your jaw and tilting your head backwards. 
And that’s a fucking view. It’s upside down, Luke’s masked face staring down at you as his hand works furiously over his leaking, hard cock, groaning and panting. “Fuck, open your mouth.”
You comply, happily letting your tongue fall flat over your lower lip, eyelashes fluttering until you hear a low, guttural groan from Luke’s throat, painting your cheeks and lips and eyelashes in pretty ropes of milky white. 
“Ohhh fuck,” Luke’s strokes slow, milking himself until every last drop is coating some part of your face. “Fuck Y/N… you look so goddamn pretty covered in my cum.”
What doesn’t stay on your face ends up dribbling onto your t-shirt. You don’t really care at the moment, fucked dumb as you curiously swipe your tongue along anywhere you can reach to taste Luke’s release. You let out a soft, pleased and rasped, “Thank you, sir.”
Luke finds some tissues to clean you up, helping you slide your underwear and jeans back on. Once you’ve regained your breath, and began the short trip back to reality, you feel your cheeks grow stupidly hot. Luke slips his mask off. 
“Where the hell is Mark?” he asks curiously. 
“That’s what you’re worried about?” You ask in a soft voice. You really want to ask what this means, the two of you hooking up like this. Was he actually into you or using that as an excuse to get in your pants? 
“He’s like thirty minutes late,” Luke shrugs, running a hand through his flattened curls. “Why? What’re you worried about?”
Your mouth clasps shut. “Nothing, it doesn’t matter,” You turn away, busying yourself with the paperwork you’d brought inside with you. “I have more recording sessions to do. And you probably have somewhere to be.”
“Y/N..” Luke frowns. 
“What?” You snap unintentionally, turning to face Luke with narrowed eyes. “What, Luke?”
“This wasn’t like..” he trails off, looking a bit nervous. It almost makes you feel bad for snapping at him like that. “A one-time thing for me, Y/N. I.. I’m into you.”
“Really?” You ask softly. “You’re not just saying that because I let you.. fuck me?”
“No,” Luke slips out a short chuckle, stepping towards you. “No, I told you m’obsessed with you. This only makes it worse. You’re not getting rid of me.”
“We can talk about this after my recording sessions, alright Hemmings?” Your lips lift into a soft, almost shy smile. Luke does the same, his eyes hopeful. 
“Maybe over dinner?” He asks. 
“Pick me up at six.” You counter. 
Luke dips to press a soft kiss against your cheek. “Text me your address. I’ll go figure out where Mark is and kick his ass for being late.”
You roll your eyes. “If he would’ve been on time that wouldn’t have ended well for both of us, Hemmings,” Luke’s halfway out the door, pausing and turning to you with a sly grin. “What? What is it?”
“Someone left the recording light on. No wonder Mark didn’t bother,” Luke chuckles, amused. “Hey.. I wonder what else we did by accident..” His eyes flicker towards the sound table’s knobs and buttons, your own widening in fear. Which switches were off before? You hadn’t paid attention to anything when your chest was pressed against it. Fuck, what if you-
You turn to reprimand Luke for putting that thought into your head but he’s gone. Before you text Mark, letting him know that you’re available to record, you double check the recording logs for anything out of the ordinary. With pink cheeks, you text Luke your address and a vague note. 
you: [123 Main St]
you: also.. seems we might’ve had an accident. 
you: file.mp3
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reneesghostinthelivingroom · 2 months ago
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Hiii!!! Love thy works!
If it's alright with you, may I please request Regina George x Reader?
Scenario: Every day, the reader comes to school with all sorts of bruises and injuries. Like, every single day. That's when, Regina finds out that the reader is part of an underground fight club to pay for their sickly mother's treatment because the reader is very poor.
Always Hurt
|| Regina George x nonbinary!reader
|| Warnings; swearing, little agnsty, reader's mother is sick, injured reader, short fic
|| Summary; reader was always hurt when they came to school. Always. Regina finally has enough and decides to ask them about it.
Requests open!
Started; September 19th
Finished; September 19th
~~~
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Regina was sick of seeing you with some new injury every day. Every time she laid eyes on you there would be some new bandage wrap added to your body. Today was her final straw when she saw the stitch just above your eye.
She walked right over to your locker, crowds splitting so she could get through. Regina cleared her throat to get your attention as her arms folded across her chest," What the actual fuck?"
You immediately froze. A million different scenarios ran through your head as you looked at your girlfriend, seeing the intense gaze she had on you. No, not on you. Well yes on you but focused on something just above your eyes. Then you remembered your stitches. Great...
"Regina-"
"I need names, Y/N." Her tone was just as demanding as that look in her eyes. You swallowed.
"Names..?"
"Who's been doing this to you?" She gestured to all of you. Which made you sigh.
"Technically, me." You stated as you pulled out your text book, then paused when you saw the startled look on your girlfriend's face and realized how that must have sounded," No, no. God. That came out wrong. I mean. I signed up for a fight clu-"
The words weren't even out of your mouth when Regina spoke," I'm sorry, what? FIGHT CLUB? ARE YOU ABSOLUTELY-"
This time you cut her off, cupping your hand to her mouth as you dragged her to the closest bathroom. She bit your hand which made you flinch and let go, shaking your hand slightly.
"Ow."
"Deserved." Regina scoffed," I can't believe how absolutely moronic you are. Joining a fight club? I can't express this enough, what the HELL?"
You grimaced as she raised her voice and tried arguing your side, but she just cut you off again.
"You better have a damn good reason, Y/N because I swear-"
"It's for my mom!" You kind of just blurted it out. Trying to let yourself be heard over Regina's rant.
Regina paused as she heard you and studied your expression, you looked like you were on the verge of tears. Which made her reel in just a little. She could tell you weren't lying to her.
"It's for my mom..." You repeated, your voice almost a whispered murmur now," she hasn't been doing great and this was the only job I could get that would actually pay what I need for her recovery and I-"
"Your mom's sick?" Regina asked, you nodded.
"She has been for a while."
Regina sighed and flicked your forehead, you swatted her hand away," You're still moronic. You could have come to me. I spend probably what you need on shoes alone." She rolled her eyes, arms back across her chest," my parents wouldn't notice if it was missing."
"You'd do that..?" You just stared at her. Trying your best not to cry.
"Well it's either that or watch you get your stupid ass beat. What do you think I'm picking, dumbass?"
You laughed a little, despite it all. Then pulled Regina into a tight hug, one that she was about to pull away from until she heard your sobs. She grumbled and gave your back a pat. Not being the best at comforting.
"Three, two..." She then started counting once the hug went on a little too long for her public comfort, you quickly let go. Understanding her boundary.
"Thank you."
"Don't mention it." She started walking out of the bathroom, with you following. She looked back at you," Seriously. Don't."
"Scared people will think you're soft?" You gave her a playful nudge.
"You're fucking stupid." She muttered.
"I love you too." You gave her forehead a kiss and she pushed you away from her, which made you laugh.
She really tries to act like she doesn't care.
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in-act-ive · 1 year ago
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Hi can I request shameless X male reader where the reader is like an older brother to the boys and he defends them with his life pretty much it can be and he comforts them with side hugs y'know pulls them in for one especially when they fight with Fiona( nothing against her love her but I wanna comfort the boys y'know) headcanons or a oneshot i don't mind
Anyways have a good day
Yep! Sorry it's not a fic! I'm still a bit sick and I want to get this out before school starts up again!
Request : yes
Type : headcanon
A / N : more shameless stuff!! I'm not mad y'all just need to give me a minute to do some other stuff. All jokes aside this request was fun. Sorry I didn't do Liam!
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Carl Gallagher
Knowing Carl you probably come to the rescue... A lot
He starts shit he can't finish
You have to come fight people for him a lot of the time
He also ends up getting people to jump him so... You have to save him then too
When you get injured he makes you deal with it
Its not that he doesn't know how
He just doesn't want to look at injuries he caused
When / after he gets in a fight with hie family he tries to avoid you
He doesn't want to bother you with his issues
You know where he hides though so you can help him
He's more of a " lets not open up.. Lets just stay DEAD SILENT instead "
You'll hug him
He won't admit it but that definitely helps him feel a bit better
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Lip Gallagher
He likes to fight people for the hell of it
Lip can hold his own, really
Sometimes you just insist on stepping in cause you're much more responsible than he is and you know when he can't handle a fight or when its not worth it
Your normally pulling Lip out of a fight instead of defending him
He fucking hates it
His brothers appreciate it though
When you do end up fighting someone for Lip and get hurt he tends to your wounds immediately
He scolds you as he does so though, even if its his fault
When he gets in a fight with family he comes straight to you
He probably falls into your arms and just angrily huffs until you comfort him
He's not great with words
You've gotten used to it touch and you comfort him pretty quickly
He likes hugs and is very open about it
Especially yours
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Ian Gallagher
Hes probably the more tame of the three boys
Definitely gets in fights he cant handle though
You have to step in and save him all the fucking time
He tries to tell you he's fine
He's not
When you get hurt in a fight he'll patch up your wounds
So scolding
He just explains what he's doing and does everything very gently as if your a child
He hates when you get hurt
You may be a bit older than him but he doesn't give a shit
You two just have a mutual overprotectivness over each other and everyone has picked up on it
After a fight with his familyhe comes to you first
You'll sit with him and he'll explain what's going on
You try your best to give advice
He nods and thinks about what you say as you speak
It almost always ends in you cuddling him while he sleeps
He cannot get in a fight with anyone without being mentally exhausted after
Note: This was not spell checked nor grammer checked! I apologize in advance for the mistakes
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bellysoupset · 1 month ago
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okay, in the spirit of getting back to writing, how about a mini fic with Vince and Jonah driving somewhere and Jonah’s stomach is upset and they have to pull over so he can puke? And Vince is just really, really “Vince” and being all “take your time” and “I’m here for you”and Jonah’s all impatient and just wants to puke and get it over with so he can go be with Leo. Your choice as to who is driving because I can see advantages to both. Thank you and so glad you’re back!
"Should I pull over?"
"Shut up."
Vince snorted, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel and whistling under his breath. He had no idea how he had gotten roped into this... Well, he did, it was just ridiculous. Leo was sucked into an important client, meaning he was working over the weekend when he shouldn't have and Wendy's supervisor was on her ass and had switched up her hours last minute... And so Vince had gone to Welton, only to find that him and Jon were all alone for the weekend and that Jon had set up an appointment at a nearby venue, an appointment Leo had been initially supposed to participate in.
Long story short, he had been roped into driving for three hours, on top of the four he had already driven to get to Welton. This was fine. And then once they got to the venue, it was closed and a total bust. That was fine too. And they had stopped on a side of the road shady gas station for food and it was clearly kicking Jonah's ass and-
"I'm so sorry," Jonah groaned, pressing a fist to his stomach and avoiding looking at him. He hadn't been looking at Vince ever since he had been forced to pull over and ask Vin to drive on the way back too, since he was too nauseous to focus.
This meant that in the past two days Vince had driven a total of ten hours, almost back to back, and six of those he could bill on Jon alone. He was so guilty that he wasn't sure if he was nauseous because of the stupid fried temaki or because of nerves.
"Chill out," Vince pushed his shoulder slightly, in an affectionate manner, "I'm not mad."
"You-" Jonah gulped down, muffling a wet burp against his fist and breathing out slowly, "should be."
"Alright, give me-" Vince interrupted himself with a yawn and squeezed his eyes shut for a split second, to get rid of the slight blurriness, "give me ten minutes and I'll yell at you, if that makes you feel better. At the next stop."
"Fuck you," Jonah glared at him, wrapping an arm around his stomach and rocking on his seat, leg bouncing nervously, "it fucking hurts."
"I'm sorry, that sucks," Vince's hand, the one not in the steering wheel, moved to rest on Jon's shoulder and squeezed it in a soft manner, "are you sure you don't want me to pull ov-"
Before he could finish his sentence, Jonah dived forward and let out a deafening belch, followed by a string of little burps that sounded like he was gargling with liquid. Vince raised his eyebrows, both impressed and grossed out by the fact he could tell just how close to puking his friend was. He wasn't one to be sympathy sick, but damn...
"Fuck," Jonah braced against the dashboard and Vince looked at the road, saving them from swerving onto the oncoming traffic. He glanced quickly at Jon, noticing how his friend had assumed a corpse grey shade, instead of his skin's rich dark brown color, and how sweat was dotting his face all over.
Vince sighed, turning up their emergencies lights and starting to pull over on the side of the road, only for Jon to turn his head and glare at him, "I'm not gonna puke," he said strongly, "we should go."
"Jonah, why are you doing this to yourself?" Vince rolled his eyes, parking on the dust shoulder, "you're gonna hurl. Hurl then."
"I'm not-"
"I'm not judging you," Vince sighed, rubbing his temples and staring at his friend in an amused way, "but goddammit, you look so sick, just get it up and-"
"Please, can-" Jonah all but whined, rocking back and forth, "can you stop talking?!"
Vince scowled at him, not bothering to answer the man and resting his chin on the steering wheel, looking out the windshield to the road ahead. It was sunset and he was not looking forward to driving the remaining an hour and a half in the dark, when his eyes were already burning.
Next to him, Jon curled up more and let out another small burp, looking like he wanted to become one with the door. Vince closed his eyes and waited, yawning once more. He counted one, two, three burps before Jonah threw the passenger door open and stuck his head out, letting out a pitiful moan.
Vince sighed, moving on the seat in order to rest a hand between his friend's shoulder blades and rubbing up and down, "just get it up, man, you'll feel better in a moment..."
"We should never have c- I should never-" Jonah choked out, before his body decided to cut his apology short by sending up his lunch in a powerful wave all over the side of the road.
Vince wrinkled his nose in distaste and patted his back, forcing his friend to belch, "there you go, get that shit out of your belly. Freaking rancid place," his own gut was starting to ache a little, "atta boy."
"I'm not a fucking horse," Jonah growled, spitting in the dirt and clearing his throat, "why aren't you pissed? I ruined your weekend."
"I don't know, Jon, from where I stand it looks like your weekend was more ruined than mine," Vince chuckled, reaching without thinking and messing Jonah's curls as the man sat back in correctly, slamming the door.
"I guess," Jonah leaned into his touch, seeking some comfort before his rational side caught up with him and he straightened up abruptly. Vince snorted.
"You can rest on my shoulder, I promise I'm not gonna tell Leo," he said in a hushed manner, as if they were trading secrets. Jonah opened a small, exhausted smile, curling up against the window.
"You're too nice, Vince, I hate it."
His friend blushed, rolling his eyes and flicking at Jonah's ear in an annoying, older brother way, "yeah, sure you do, Jonny. Sure you do."
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ellieluvr420 · 8 months ago
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Eye for an Eye Pt.4
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MASTERLIST (and information about Palestine) Please read!
SYNOPSIS: Your body yearned for the touch of your girlfriend, the warm embrace that calmed your mind but you couldn't give in, the anger you harboured for her at disappearing with her group for three months without any warning, explanation or even a mention of when she would be back stopped you in your tracks any time you got close to giving in. You loved Abby so much but looking at her made you sick, you couldn't push the feelings down no matter how much you craved for things to go back to what they once were. You hadn't planned this but the anguish in those green eyes mirrored yours and sucked you in before you could think twice about the repercussions of your actions. You made your bed when you made the deal with the auburn-haired stranger, eventually you'd have to lie in it.
I want to quickly stress that this is a darker fic and there will be a lot of darker, possibly triggering themes to do with mental health throughout so take that as a warning. I likely won't do warnings for each part because part of this fic for me is that you don't know what's going to happen until you read it so please do not read if you find graphic descriptions of mental illness and topics surrounding that triggering. But if you do read, thank you so much, this story is really important to me and I appreciate any interaction whatsoever!
Had this in my drafts and wasn’t gonna post until i finished chap 21 of friends?never but @moonspowder is holding their breath so had to get a move along 🤗
₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧    
You waited for Abby to fall asleep, it didn’t take long, she was clearly exhausted from the day of crying and grieving her beloved friends. You watched her sleep for a little while, imagining what it would look like when she wouldn’t wake again but you dragged yourself away to pack your backpack ready to go back to Ellie. You grimaced at the thought of seeing Ellie again, after your dramatic exit earlier you were sure you wouldn’t get a warm greeting but you didn’t care either way. You were going to make sure Nora died, not to see her. 
The walk there was tranquil, you heard a few screeches here and there but that was normal, it didn’t bother you, you had managed to sneak into the weapon armoury as its never got someone working it overnight and you were quite adept at picking locks so the added weight of your weapons and ammunition in your backpack acted as an anchor, comforting you and keeping you on this plane of existence instead of floating away into your mind like you had been all day. You had a rifle over your shoulder and Ellie’s switchblade in your hand, every time you looked down at it you smiled at the memory of pointing her own knife at her as you left earlier, it felt like you were mocking her and you liked it. 
You practically skipped up the steps of the fire escape, bounding in through the window gracefully and sauntering through to the stage where she was already sitting on one of the chairs in the front row waiting for you. You smirked at her as you made your way towards her where she scowled at you. 
“You’re a fucking bitch you know that?” She spat. 
“Well that’s not very nice.” 
“I specifically asked you not to tell Jesse and you tell him at the first opportunity. What the fuck was that for?” 
“Payback.” She rolls her eyes and stands, holding out her hand, you look at her puzzled until you remember the switchblade still firmly planted in your palm. You fold it back together and place it in your back pocket as you smile.  
“You’re being weird, what’s wrong with you?” 
“You don’t know what’s weird and what isn’t with me Ellie, you don’t know me so stop acting like you do ‘kay?” That didn’t help, stop being so defensive. She was right, this wasn’t you but if you had been you, you would’ve let her kill you before you agreed to hurt Abby, but you’re not you, and that’s the point. “I didn’t come here to chat so are you ready?” 
“Yep.” You turn on your heel and start walking back towards the window. 
“Jesse not joining us?” 
“No, he needs to rest his ankle and he’s not the biggest fan of you so it was best he stayed.” 
“Can’t imagine why he doesn’t like me.” You flash a coy grin over your shoulder and Ellie chuckles before she can even think to hold it in which makes her scowl in your direction even more. As you bend over to crawl through the window you feel Ellie’s fingers brush against your ass before a hand comes up and grabs your hip, holding you in place. You squirm and curse at her as her free hand dives into your pocket and retrieves her switchblade. You glare at her over your shoulder, and she sticks her tongue out at you. Childish. Even the subtle blush of her cheeks angered you as you made your way down the fire escape, her following closely behind. 
As you trailed along the dark paths of Seattle towards the park you planned to cut through, you wondered what could have happened if you had met Ellie before, under better circumstances. You know if you had met her before you had been ruined, darkened by the torment of love and hatred, you would have liked her, found her charming. Anything that you would’ve liked about her only drove you further from her, the thought of getting close to someone again, feeling for someone again, it made your blood run cold. You’d do whatever you had to do to keep your distance until everything was over. 
You reach a dead end that has you huffing as you notice the double doors slightly ajar to your right. “Fuck’s sake.” You mutter to yourself as Ellie comes to stand next to you. 
“What?” 
“Was hoping we wouldn’t have to cut through any buildings, but I guess I was wrong.” 
“No hold on a minute, if you can get me to the top of the wall I can pull you up.” You quirk an eyebrow at her, challenging her declaration, it wasn’t that you didn’t think she was strong, it was just a very high wall, it seemed like a long shot. 
“Well worth a try because these buildings are crawling with infected typically.” She nods and you walk to the wall, pressing your back against it and cupping your hands together.  
“You ready?” She checks as she puts her foot into your hands. 
“As I’ll ever be.” You nod and in sync she jumps up as you boost her and somehow she actually manages to grasp onto the top edge and pull herself up. It was impressive to watch, you hadn’t met anyone as adept as Abby until you met her. She lowers herself down and reaches an arm out to you. 
“Just jump and grab my hand and then don’t fucking let go okay?” 
“Yeah I got it.” You take a breath and leap as high as you can, the second you feel your hand in hers, you breathe a sigh of relief, she starts slowly pulling you up and the second you can you grab onto the ledge to help her for the last bit. Once you’re both over the wall she stands with her hands on her hips and a smug look on her face. “I swear if you say I told you so.” 
“I wasn’t gonna say a thing, you said it for me.” She smiles and you continue walking without looking to see if she followed but you know she has from the faint patter of her footsteps. 
The entrance to the park comes into view at the same time that you hear a high-pitched whistling. “The fuck is that?” Ellie whispers. 
“Scars. We’ll take it slow and just try and sneak around them okay, keep your head down and stay quiet.” 
“Yes ma’am.” You glare at her before creeping forward, this time checking she’s following. The whistles grew louder as you moved deeper into the forest until you heard a blood-curling scream, followed by begs and pleads from another WLF soldier. “What the fuck.” Ellie whispers next to you as you both see the soldiers strung up from trees, one with his organs dangling from his body and the other flailing about desperately as he screams and tries to bargain for his life. “Do you know them?” 
“Yeah I know the one they haven’t cut open yet. Daniel.” 
“Oh, sorry.” 
“Don’t be, I’m not.” She scoffs in disbelief at your bluntness as you keep moving until you hear the swish of an arrow cutting through air and the fleshy squelch of it landing in a body. You turn to see Ellie lying on the floor grunting as she yanks at the arrow. You immediately spot the scar heading straight for you and you lunge at her, digging your knife into her neck and yanking it out, her blood splattering over you, painting you skin red. Just more blood on your hands. It will all be over soon. You return to Ellie and kneel beside her. “Hey, hey, let me do it.” She nods and as you snap the arrow so you can pull it out easier, she gasps and squeezes your arm as she clamps her eyes shut. Her hand burns your skin, you needed to get this done quickly. 
“You better be right-handed.” You say trying to lighten the mood as you yank the arrow from her left shoulder, she whimpers slightly but as soon as it’s out, she breathes a sigh of relief. 
“Yeah I’m right-handed.” She watches as you pull your backpack off and retrieve a bandage from the front pocket. “You came prepared.” 
“I was actually planning to leave this time so yeah I did. Take your shirt off.” 
“Wh- why?” 
“So I can wrap this bandage around it. I’m not tryna cop a feel, relax. Just take your arm out of the shirt.” 
“Right.” She winces as she pulls her left arm from the shirt and you press the end of the bandage to the seeping wound before grabbing her hand and pressing it onto the hole firmly. You wrap the bandage round her shoulder and under her armpit as tight as you can before ripping it and tying it off then helping her back into her shirt. 
“You okay?” 
“Yeah but we need to keep moving.” You help her up and begin sprinting towards the exit of the park until you’re no longer surrounded by foliage, instead comforted by the urban forest that you found a lot easier to navigate.  
“See through those two buildings there, that’s the hospital. We’re not that far away now.” You were half telling yourself that and half telling her. It’s not like it would get easier the closer you got to the hospital, but the closer you got, the closer Nora was to meeting her demise. That’s why you were here. To make sure she died, that’s it. 
₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧   
 
The sound of ‘it was a good day’ by Ice Cube rang through the halls, one of yours and Abby’s favourite’s. You thought it was ironic, that particular song playing while Nora gets slaughtered, poetic almost. “There’s a door on the other side of the room, I’m gonna go round and make sure she can’t run through there. Just wait a couple minutes before you go in, yeah?” 
“You’re not coming in with me?” And let Nora blow yours and Abby’s relationship wide open? No, you were not going in there.  
“No, I’m gonna make sure no one comes and finds us. Why? You want a little company?” 
“You made your point.”  
“Make it hurt.” You mutter before walking off round the corner to go find the door. The song ringing through your ears causing a slideshow of memories with Abby to flash through your mind, you shake them away as the door comes into view, you press your ear to the door and as you hear Ellie’s voice inside you get to work barricading the door, you slam yourself into the large metal cabinet to scrape it across the floor until it’s firmly in front of the door. You moved slowly to make as little noise as possible, the music covering your plight well. You go back to pressing your ear against the door just as you hear Ellie’s disgruntled voice. 
“You fucking cunt- Agh!” A crash and then the handle shaking violently as Nora tries to make her escape, you can’t stop yourself from popping up in the glass pane of the door and smiling with a little wave and tilt of your head. She whispers your name as her face screws up before you disappear from the glass again leaving her and Ellie alone. You shouldn’t be enjoying this, you barely felt human anymore, it’s her fault, it’s their fault, it’s your own fault too but you’d fix that soon enough. You appear at the other door and glance through the window. Nora’s on the floor, unmoving as Ellie stands over her with a large metal pipe in her hand, the end dripping with crimson. You notice the tremor of the pipe, the rigid stance of Ellie as she stands over Nora, and then she thrashes the pipe down onto her, again and again. Was this what Ellie had witnessed when she found you at Hillcrest? You needed to get moving so you enter the room quietly and as she lifts the pipe again you grab it and yank it out of her hand. She spins to face you and you feel like she might kill you there and then for stopping her. “You got her. We gotta go.” She nods and lets you lead her out of the room, and out of the hospital into the cool night air. She doesn’t speak, she doesn’t move without a nudge from you, she doesn’t notice when a runner creeps up on her from behind until you’re ripping it off of her, throwing it to the ground and stomping its head into the cement underneath you. If you don’t sort her out soon, she’d get you both killed so you drag her into a nearby house, sitting her down on the sofa before checking it’s clear and securing the doors and windows then returning to her. “Ellie, I need you to focus. We need to get back to the theatre, so I need you to focus.” 
“I- I shouldn’t have done that.” 
“Why?” 
“I should’ve just killed her. I’m as bad as them. I made it hurt.” She looked up at you and suddenly that familiar feeling you thought you were free from comes rushing back like it had never left. Guilt was crushing, it was worse than any physical pain you could ever describe. Your whole body ached and twinged as every nerve felt like it was on fire. You crouched down to make her look at you, attempting to distract yourself from your own inner turmoil with hers.  
“Ellie, look at me.” Her eyes flick up to yours as you cup her cheeks with your hands. “She fucking deserved it, they all deserve it. You’re gonna do this and you’re gonna go back home and forget about this place and everything in it. You’re gonna go be happy with your girlfriend and your friends and you’re gonna move on but you have to make it out of here alive first, so I need you to focus.” She doesn’t say anything, she just mirrors your own hands as she cups your cheeks, your skin burns.  
“I don’t know how to be happy anymore, I don’t think I can go back to the life I had before all of this.” She leans in and your eyes widen as you put a hand on her chest. 
“Ellie, don’t do this to yourself. Dina is what you need.” 
“I don’t know how to be what she needs.” She leans in again and you can’t shake the feeling you’re taking advantage of her, she’s vulnerable, she’s grieving, you can’t do this.  
“Ellie, you don’t want this. You’re confused, this would be a mistake that you’ll regret every day. Think about Dina.” 
“She doesn’t look at me the same anymore, Jesse doesn’t other, they don’t get it. You do. Please, I know what I need, I need this. I need to feel real, like I’m not just a heartless killer, I know you understand that.” Fuck, she’s right. You know it’s wrong, everything’s wrong, she’s not Abby but in your eyes, Abby isn’t Abby anymore. She changed and she changed you with her. Why did cheating feel so wrong when you were fantasising and planning on killing her? Why did you feel bad for a girl you hadn’t even seen? Everything you were doing was driving you further into that bottomless black pit that you’d never escape from. It was pointless trying to fight the darkness slowly squeezing the life out of you, so why are you still trying? It would all go away soon so why fight it? You started all of this because the hurt they had enacted on you caused a large gaping abscess to form where your heart used to be but now, now you had lost control, blinded by your rage, by your bloodlust. She was right, you needed to feel real, just once more before it all ends, before everything catches up to you, it would sooner or later, catch up to you. You just needed to feel real. 
You sighed and looked into her eyes before nodding gently and leaning towards her, closing the already small gap between you both. Your lips pressed together, cautiously at first, her hands moving down to your hips and squeezing tentatively. This wasn’t right, you half expected to see a monster looking back at you next time you looked in a mirror, how could a broken heart do this much damage? Were you overreacting? Were you like this all along and Abby just gave you an excuse to show your true colours? You just needed comfort, affection, from someone who hadn’t set your heart on fire and stomped it into the ground. You just needed some comfort. 
Ellie sucked your tongue into her mouth as you straddled her hips, desperation seeping through your pores as you latched onto her hair and yanked her head back to give you access to her neck, you pecked at the skin just below her ear and as you went to suck you had to stop yourself, you couldn’t leave any traces of your evil on her pale skin. Her hands squeezed at your thighs as she nudged your cheek with her nose to get you to face her once again. The air was dense, it was clogging your throat, any time you pulled away you felt like the air was sucked out of you and your body was being crushed. You couldn’t take it, you couldn’t understand how it made you feel so much more immoral than anything you had done over the past few days, yet it still made you feel alive for the first time in months. 
Ellie could barely think, barely function, all she could focus on was your lips on hers as her hands roamed your body. Any time Dina would pop into her mind she’d just press herself further into you, it blocked everything else out. How could she go back to her normal life, after everything, after you? She knew you didn’t feel the same way, she could tell, this was just a necessity to you, a distraction, but to her, it was everything, it was like you were letting her be the version of her that rose from the ashes of Joel’s death, not trapping her in a cage of who she used to be.  
“I’m sorry Ellie, I’m so, so sorry.” Your voice was cracking and trembling as you spoke but when you opened your eyes to see hers still closed, no reaction to what you had said, the panic set in. Not again. “I’m sorry Ellie, please hear me, I’m sorry, I’ve ruined you too. I’m sorry.” You were practically screaming as tears rolled down your cheeks. This time her eyes snapped open again but they were only filled with lust, something else that you couldn’t decipher but you didn’t want to. 
“I needed this too, thank you.” She breathed out and your stomach churned, your hand immediately going to your cheek to feel that it was completely dry, you heaved at the feeling and jumped off of her, you’ve lost it, you’re barely connected to your body anymore, some outside force controlling it.  
Her eyes went glassy as her jaw dropped open slightly at your sudden change in demeanour. “Did I do something wrong?” Her voice was small, shameful as she averted her eyes from your manic ones. 
“No I- I heard something, we need to move, we’re too close to the hospital.” 
“Oh... okay.” She looked like a beaten puppy as she stood and grabbed her backpack, wincing at the pain in her shoulder. You tore your eyes away from her to look out the window and make sure it was safe to leave before turning back to her and taking in her features, her hair messy and tangled, her cheeks blushed, and her lips parted as her chest rose and fell heavily. You stared as she stared back until you took a breath and went to reach for the doorhandle, but it wasn’t there. Instead, your fingers found the bottom of the window that you had left ajar upon your exit of the theatre. You snapped your head towards it and screeched as you yanked it upwards and threw yourself through the opening. You turned back and you felt your body go cold as Abby was standing behind you, climbing through the window with eyes so dark you thought they were black. The blue was no longer there, replaced by inky darkness that matched the background, the theatre seeping away from your vision and leaving only you and her. You screamed and cried as she inched closer to you, you tried to scramble away but she snatched your ankle back towards her and climbed on top of you, squeezing your chin as her eyes stared into your soul and sucked it out of you. Your whole body tingled before going numb as a single tear rolled down your cheek at the sick grin that twisted her lips upwards mocked you. 
“Hey, come on, wake up, fuck please wake up, what the fuck?” Ellie’s voice boomed through your head, light blinded you as you used every ounce of strength in you to open your eyes only to come face to face with Ellie peering over you. “What the fuck was that? You just passed out as you went through the window.” 
“S-sorry, I- I dunno what happened.” 
“What do you mean you don’t know?” 
“I mean I don’t fucking know.” You could never tell her what you had seen, what was happening to you, you couldn’t even begin to verbalise it. You sat up and surveyed your surroundings, you were at the theatre, you had blacked out for at least an hour, best case. You needed to fix this, you needed to get home before Abby wakes up.  
“Are you okay? Let me help you up.” She goes to lift you up but you smack her hands away, you didn’t know why you were agitated but you were, you needed her not to touch you or look at you or breathe near you because your skin was itching and you felt like you were a bomb seconds away from exploding. 
“I got it, I’m fine, okay? I’m probably just over-tired.” You walk away from her and disappear through the curtains as she follows you down to the chairs where you dropped your backpack and began pacing. She sat beside the backpack and pulled her arm out of her grey t-shirt once again to look at the bandages that were now stained red and leaking onto the hand she pressed on the wound. 
“I don’t suppose you’ve got anymore bandages you wouldn’t mind sharing.” 
“Yeah, front pocket of my backpack.” You would’ve got them for her but you couldn’t stand still right now, you needed to keep moving as you begged for the memory of the journey from the hospital to the theatre to return to you but there was not even a second of it you could remember. 
Ellie watched you for a second before going to the front pocket of your backpack and routing around it. Her hands brushed over something thin and smooth, a piece of paper but not like the paper in her journal, like film almost. She knew she shouldn’t snoop but you didn’t seem like the type to share and she just wanted to know more about you so she flipped the polaroid over to look at the picture and the sight made bile rise to her throat as she clutched it and brought it closer to her face. You were completely unaware of her actions as your back was turned to her mostly but her eyes still flicked between you and the polaroid. “What the fuck is this?” She spat as she stood and stormed over to you. 
“Hm?” You turned and immediately a polaroid fluttered at you, landing on the floor at your feet. Your hand shook as you picked it up and realised what she was talking about. The polaroid was of you and Abby, her kissing your cheek and you beaming at the camera, with ‘my love’ written in sharpie on the thick white border. “I- Ellie...” You whispered as you refused to look up at her. 
“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?” Her hands thrust you backwards sending you stumbling as she reaches behind her jeans and yanks her pistol out, aiming it right at your heart. You don’t move, you don’t look away, you just stare back at her eyes that were fiery with rage as her lips sneered at you. 
tags: @emiliabby @liasxeatt @kawaiibreadbouquet-blog @tphmnv@a-little-bit-of-everybody@chrry1ovr
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aftgficrec · 6 months ago
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Anonymous said: Hi! Thank you so much for your work. I'm looking for long finished fics, it can be canon or not AND I'm also looking for fics focused on Kevin and Neil friendship
From Ravens angst to food wars there’s a lot of Kevin and Neil here for you to enjoy. Readers, find the long complete fics portion of this ask here. -A
previous recs
Kevin & Neil here
Kevin & Neil friendship here
BFFs Neil & Kevin, physically affectionate here
Neil & Kevin as bffs/brothers + Kev/Neil here 
‘To All my friends’ here
‘on thin ice’ here
‘Exit Wound’ here 
‘Necessary Losses,’ ‘Remember! Proplifting is Shoplifting!,’ and ‘CVS’ (completed) here
‘don't be suspicious, don't be suspicious’ here
‘I have a Prom-Posal’ here (updated)
‘The Manga is Way Better (Save me from the Fangirls)’ here
‘Homecoming King’ here 
‘The One Where Everyone Finds Out’ here
‘How to outrun the mafia, an essay by Neil Josten’ here
‘my friends and I, we got a lot of problems’ and ‘please, carry me, carry me, carry me home’ here
‘I can see the stars though the tears in my skin’ here
‘Odd Eye’ here
‘Carrots’ here
‘You Can't Take the Sky from Me’ here 
‘Something Crazy About It’ and ‘The one where Andriel get Cats’ here
‘Dear Advice Guy,’ ‘a little bit special,’ and ‘quicksand’ here
‘Slow Parade’ and ‘Bad Habits’ here
‘Technique is Important’ here
‘venus as a boy’ here (completed)
‘Light a Match’ and ‘stupid, normal teenagers’ here
‘"There's blood on my/your hands."’ here
‘Neil Josten Is a Lucky Man’ here
‘Two worlds collide’ and ‘Fear & Loathing’ here
‘Father’s Day, ‘08’ here
‘Point Nemo’ here
‘Extra thermador on the side’ ch 14 & 15 here
‘Gimme a Kiss and I'll Kiss You Right Back’ here
‘North Star’ and ‘it's my first and perhaps last time (aka the Exy World Cup Fic)’ here
‘my one, my dear’ here
‘I’m too young to feel numb…’ here
‘The Sickness Was Forever,’ ‘Whatever it takes,’ and ‘It's Just You and Me, Just Us, and Y(our) Friend Kevin’ here 
‘Different Roads’ and ‘I Was Ruined From The Start’ here
‘Spun Sugar Truths’ here
‘But man, I can hate you sometimes’ here
‘Remember Me, Love, When I'm Reborn…’ and ‘The Suit Universe’ series (updated) here
‘Through our memories, we live’ here (completed)
‘Die Free or Die a Failure’ here (completed)
‘A Falling Star’ series here
you may also like
andreil & Kevin here
more kevineil here
Andrew & Kevin here
to whom it may aggravate by knoxout [Rated G, 1931 Words, Complete, 2022]
to: [email protected] from: [email protected] ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID????? Kindest regards, Kevin Day
Strike That (from the record) by Mercey [Rated M, 1393 Words, Complete, 2023]
Kevin and Neil decide to read fanfiction about themselves on their podcast. Shenanigans ensue.
Medicated rabbits don't run as fast by AllTheSpadesAndAces [Not Rated, 8690 Words, Incomplete, Updated Nov 2023]
Neil Josten has his mother to thank for an addiction to painkillers, but he won't speak (that) ill of the dead. He's stayed on the run after her death. He never hits the same AA or NA meeting more than once. Usually only going once in every city he passes though. Maybe he should have remembered not to stray too close to Raven territory. After all, he knows what that place can drive people to do. OR Neil meets Kevin at an AA meeting.
tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: drug addiction, tw: alcohol abuse/alcoholism
Your eyes can’t fool me by maia_m03 [Rate G, 3533 Words, Complete, 2022]
There’s something familiar about this kid and Kevin can’t quite place it. Until he does. (A ‘Kevin recognises Neil at Millport’ AU)
neil josten vs vegetables (aka kevin) by orangejuice9 [Rated T, 3138 Words, Complete, 2023]
Three times Kevin tries to put vegetables in Neil's food, and one time Neil gets his revenge.
this is [home], this is hell by straycrow [Rated M, 1402 Words, Complete, 2022]
The day Kevin left the Nest and Neil behind.
tw: violence, tw: abuse
What the fuck did I do in the end? (Just to not be yours) by allfortheBoyds [Rated M, 2305 Words, Incomplete, Updated April 2023]
Kevin goes back to the nest so that Neil can run
no rest for the mischievous by tropicalblend [Rated G, 1681 Words, Complete, 2023]
Kevin forgets an essential piece of Neil's food order so Neil must enact revenge, he must.
frying pans by aknosde [Rated G, 1078 Words, Complete, 2023]
When Kevin trudges down the stairs and into the kitchen Saturday morning it's to the smell of frying sausage and a headache the likes of which he hasn’t seen in years. The fact that the former makes him want to throw up considerably more than the latter lets him know what kind of day it’s going to be. (Or: Neil cooks Kevin breakfast)
tw: implied disordered eating
i want to hold your hand by gay_irl [Rated T, 3481 Words, Complete, 2023]
Neil starts to notice that Andrew occasionally exchanges casual touches with Kevin. He feels something about it but he's not sure what. He talks to Andrew and starts to realize the value of non-sexual intimacy. He decides to try it out.
tw: implied/referenced child abuse
why am I like this? by chronically_peach [Rated G, 1744 Words, Complete, 2023]
Kevin doesn’t believe in loneliness. He doesn’t believe in friendship or the need for people around. He spent his entire life never being alone but never having a friend. Loneliness didn’t affect Kevin. Or so he thought. One night Kevin breaks down during late night practice while alone at the court. When he doesn’t come home Andrew and Neil go looking for him
In the Blooms by KaijuusAndKryptids [Rated G, 1273 Words, Complete, Aftg Spring Exchange 2022, Locked]
Kevin works on sobriety, and needs something to fill the time to distract him from needing a drink. He falls into gardening incidentally, but more and more often he finds that he wants to garden for gardening's sake and not to complete another objective.
Proof of Life by mostly_maudlin [Rated T, 2132 Words, Complete, 2022]
Realistically, Kevin knows he is safe now. No one is after him anymore. No one is plotting to drag him down into the hole he's clawed out of. He has people who will fight to keep it this way.
Kevin? Aaron? Together? My life can't get any worse than this by Artificiosus [Rated T, 2129 Words, Complete, 2022]
He takes a deep breath in. "Where?" "Where what- oh," Kevin replies. "Where?" Neil repeats, his heart rate is speeding up, he feels frozen to the spot. Dread? Fear? Whatever it is, it's locked him down. Kevin gulps.  ~~~~~ Kevin tells Neil that he and Aaron slept together.
Hey Look Neil, You Made It! by alexis_needs_sleep [Not Rated, 2224 Words, Complete, 2022]
7 years after Kevin agreed to teach Neil how to play Exy, Kevin shows up on Neil's doorstep with a long overdue gift.
Sticking with our Losers by Webaqoof [Rated T, 1647 Words, Complete, 2022, Locked]
Kevin dragged his ass from the front porch steps where he was laying down, ready to enter the house. He furrowed his eyebrows to find it still closed, because he clearly heard Neil ringing the doorbell. “Why is the door not open?” Neil brought his hand to his chin in a thinking posture. Which was funny because he never really thought anything. “I think it’s because one of the people in the house doesn’t like me much.”
Could Have Been Me by thornilee013 [Rated T, 1843 Words, Complete, AFTG Mixtape Exchange 2024]
Kevin finally voices a question that's been bothering him.
i should hate you, i feel stupid. by hynjinnnniee [Rated T, 3391 Words, Complete, 2024]
kevin experiences some complicated feelings after riko dies, and the monsters help him through it.
Naked-Fruit Chiffon Cake, one box by riri_a [Rated T, 2579 Words, Complete, 2023]
Kevin Day was having a very boring morning. Some might say his life was boring in general. Everything changes when a homeless guy with blue eyes decides to rob his workplace. Kevin thinks he's incompetent.
Tell Me the Truth by birthdaycandles774 [Rated T, 1948 Words, Complete, 2023]
The Foxes were staying at the winter banquet for both days, how boring. Andrew had gone to get ice for his drunk brother and cousin when he noticed two Ravens. So far from their nest, strange. He never expected to make a deal with the unannounced member of the 'Perfect Court' who only wanted him to protect Kevin Day. He definitely didn't expect to want the mysterious Raven to stay. The one where Neil was caught by the Moriyamas and is the one to get Kevin out of the Nest.
Kevin Day is keeping Celeste series by Twolipsliterature [Rated G/T, Collection, Incomplete, Updated Feb 2023]
Part 1: What never belonged to angels, Had never belonged to men [T, 1837 Words, Complete] Neil, Andrew, and Kevin are in Columbia for the summer following Riko's death. Needless to say, Kevin is not handling it well. When a breakup leads to a breakdown, Neil and Andrew must learn what it is to be a friend and how to help peice someone back together instead of being the one to break them apart
tw: alcohol abuse/alcoholism
Part 2: If I let you perceive me, do you promise to love me? [T, 11037 Words, Incomplete, Updated Feb 2023] The last thing Kevin expected to do after a messy breakup was immediately fall for someone. Yet, here he is, smitten and cursing himself for it. With more baggage and trauma than he can hide under his bed, Kevin is hesitant to open up to someone. How can anyone get to know him when he barely knows himself? Lucky for him, Celeste is very good at piecing things together. OR: Despite his best efforts, Kevin falls in love.
Part 3: A Lesson In Loving You, A Lesson In Being Loved [G, 4966 Words, Complete]
After months of sneaking around, Neil decides its high time Kevin introduce the foxes to his not-so-secret girlfriend. When it finally happens, he can't shake the feeling that there's something more to her that Kevin is missing...
A Collection of my varying AFTG short stories… by BasiliskCrane [Rated M, Collection, Updated July 2021]
Chapter 6: "your an idiot... " (G, 438 Words)
You Gave Me A Key And Called It Home by vinesse [Collection, Rated T, Complete, 2019]
Chapter 31: Scared, Me? (466 Words)
A Series of H/C One-Shots For All For The Game by carefulren [Rated T, Collection, Updated 2018]
Chapter 1: Neil Downplays How Sick He's Feeling, and the Foxes Step In Chapter 4: sick and problematic kevin trying to keep the team away from him, but the team ignores him
Art
kevneil arguing dynamic comic by @wuzeio
quality bonding time animation by @broresteia
weekly call comic by @bleepbloops
tramp stamps instead of face tattoos art by @koihoi
AU where Kevin meets Neil on the run art by @lucky-slice
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pedge-stuff · 1 year ago
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it's not that kind of cold shower (pedro x gn/m!reader)
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a/n: POLL RESULTS ARE IN... and this was the result! would y'all still be interested in a "pedro takes care of sick reader" fic, too?
(this story specifically comes at the request of two anons, who requested bathing/showering while sick, and emetophobia. I don't have much experience on the latter, so I apologize if it's incorrect??)
you knowwwwww it had to be the Dieter pic, tho.
as always, same vague universe as “marked.” drop a line if you have a sug.
summary: 2am on the bathroom floor.
——————————————————————————————————
You wake up alone.
This doesn’t register, at first. You roll over, running a hand over your face as you blearily open your eyes. You’ve gotten used to having a bed to yourself, with Pedro’s current production schedule. (Although the dogs always end up migrating from the foot of the bed in the middle of the night.)
Except, the bed beside you is still a little warm. Pedro is home— has been home, for two days now. He took a car straight from the Disney lot to LAX, and was on a flight to JFK about three hours after the voice work for Mando wrapped. Something about “needing to see his boy,” which he swore was Edgar, with a wink and a kiss blown over Facetime.
The room is dark, still, and quiet. But as you sit up, a sliver of light becomes noticeable under the crack of the bathroom door. You blink the last dredges of sleep away, waiting for him to finish his middle-of-the-night pee. It’s nice, having him here. Waking up beside him always kinda feels like a luxury; you savor it while you have it. His next job— some stupid commercial for a game on an app? He explained it twice but neither of you really understand it— doesn’t start until the end of the month. If you fall asleep before he finishes peeing, you’ll miss an opportunity to fall asleep wrapped around him. These are sacred in their scarcity, at the moment.
Except, the toilet never flushes. After a few long moments, you swing your legs over the side of the bed.
A quiet knock yields nothing. Frowning, you gently push the door open.
Knees to his chest, head propped backwards on the edge of the tub, Pedro is lying on the bathroom floor. His eyes are squeezed shut against the fluorescents.
“Baby,” you whisper, “Pedge, what’s going on?” You kneel down, rubbing a gentle thumb over his kneecap. He’s just in a t-shirt and boxers, the cold tile leaving his exposed calves littered with pinprick goosebumps.
Without opening his eyes, Pedro grimaces. “I dunno,” he says quietly, in a rasp that makes you wince. “Woke up feeling like this.”
“Nauseous?”
The muscle of his jaw twitches. “Hate throwing up.”
“I know, love, I’m sorry.” You bring your hand upwards, carding a few fingers through his hair before palming his forehead. Alarmed, you brush it with the back of your hand, as well. “You’re really burning up, Pedro, Jesus.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows reflexively, but says nothing. Then swallows again.
You reach for the closed lid of the toilet, before returning to your feet. “If you need to throw up, throw up. You’ll feel better afterwards.”
Busying yourself with filling a glass by the sink, you purposefully don’t look, attempting to give him some privacy. But he doesn’t move. Barely lifts his head up, when you offer the water. A sheen of sweat glistens on hollow of his throat, and the collar of his sleep shirt (yours, actually— some soft old 5k thing he always reaches for) is damp.  
“Fuck,” he whispers. “Thought I escaped the curse this time.”
The curse, of course, being your nickname for the way his body absolutely freaks out at the panic of having downtime. Without fail, every time he gets a break, he’s down with something— at best a cold, at worst, what was eventually dubbed the “shittiest Christmas present ever” last year. It’s like his immune system decides it’s on vacation, as well. You’ve started planning around it, blocking off the first few days he’s home just in case. After two days, though, it really seemed like he was in the clear.
Your train of thought is interrupted by the sounds of a grown man gagging. All you can do is kneel behind him, rubbing a hand softly down the length of his back. The muscles flex and tremble beneath as Pedro coughs and coughs. Any part of you that might have been grossed out, is eclipsed by concern. You can feel the heat of the fever through the thin cotton of his t-shirt.
When he finishes, you flush without looking while he reassumes his position against the tub. “M’sorry,” he says, after a sip of water. “Go back to sleep, I’m good.”
“Don’t apologize, and don’t be dumb.” You press a kiss to his shoulder before resting your cheek there for a moment. “You gonna puke again?”
His jaw clenches again. “I don’t think so?”
Abruptly, Pedro sits up, and you tense in anticipation of another round of heaving. Instead he reaches back, grabbing the collar of his shirt to tug it over his head. Lacking his usual gusto, he tosses it towards the hamper in the opposite corner of the bathroom, and misses spectacularly.
“I won’t tell the Lakers,” you tease, “if they call to offer a job.”
Pedro huffs a quiet laugh. “Snitches get stitches.”
“Real tough threat from the man on the bathroom floor.”  
He pouts. “You have to nice to me, I puked. I could be on my death bed.”
You press another kiss to his shoulder; the skin is clammy. “America’s Peepaw Pedro Pascal Found Dead at 47, In Bathroom Like Elvis But Way Less Cool. Turn to A7 for story.”
“Now who sounds old! Who reads celebrity death announcements in tabloid magazines anymore?” The joking puts you at ease, a little. He is less green in the gills than he was when you found him, although the tops of his cheeks are still flushed with fever. It seems like he has to convince himself to reopen his eyes after every blink; his eyelids rest at half-mast.
“Mm. You got me there, I guess. Do you feel okay enough to go back to bed?”
Pedro runs a hand across his chest. “Think I might need to rinse off first.”
He braces himself on the edge of the tub, and you reach out a hand to steady him as he slowly rises to his feet. If his knees audibly crack, well, you didn’t hear anything.
Pulling off your own sleep shirt (his, also stolen; some old Fleetwood Mac shirt that hangs to your fingertips), you tuck it into the towel rack, and move to turn the shower on.
“What are you doing?” The invalid has paused changing with his boxers halfway down, in a way that would be so fucking funny if it wasn’t equally, achingly endearing.
“You are leaning on the counter to stand up right now. I’m not gonna let you slip and fall to your actual death in the shower.”
He looks down at his own hand in betrayal as you adjust the water to an acceptable lukewarm— not so cold as to be unbearable, but cool enough that it might take the edge off the fever. Pedro frowns mournfully as you step out of your own boxers.
You roll your eyes. “We will do this again when you can enjoy it.”
The shower is plenty big enough for the two of you, and you position yourself behind him, legs splayed, arms wrapped around his waist. Cheek smushed between his shoulder blades, close enough to let the warmth of his skin deflect the chill of the water.
It’s not really a shower for washing. Moreso a “stand under the water until you feel human again” type of rinse. But you twist anyways for the body wash Pedro likes, when you are sure he isn’t about to faint into the glass door. He sighs as you rub the gel across his shoulders, reaching around to wash the sweat from his chest and stomach. It does something to you, having him here— within arm’s reach, pliable, soft with sleep. Comfortable beside you.
You stay there awhile, letting the water wash over you, until you feel him sway, ever so slightly.
“Love,” you say softly.
“Mm?”
“Are you falling asleep?”
Pedro reaches blindly for the handle, twisting until the spray subsides. You place a kiss to the wet center of his back. Revel, one last time, in the feeling of his body against yours, before you hand him his towel.
There is a coordinated, albeit wearily measured, return to bed. Pedro foregoes a new shirt, choosing instead to fall face-first on top of the rumpled duvet. You track down some Tylenol PM, with fingers crossed that maybe this is just a 12-hour thing. But, just in case, the bathroom waste basket is also placed beside the bed.
Finally, you slip beneath the comforter, maneuvering your patient until he is at least partially covered as well. And then, in turn, allow him to manipulate you into precisely the position he wants to be held: your face tucks into the damp, curling hair at the base of his neck, arm wrapped snug around the middle of his torso, legs entangled.
In the morning, you’ll deal with the next hurdle. Hopefully not the next hurl. But for now, you sleep.
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