#the sweat is a paid actor | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

beefrobeefcal · 24 days ago

Text

Colosseum Capers feat. Din Djarin & Dieter Bravo

Summary: Din is a virgin and Dieter teaches him some things.

Pairing: Dieter x Din x f!reader | Rating: 18+ MDNI | Word Count: 6,787

Content Warnings: couch sex, din is a virgin, dieter teaches din how to make thick in the warm, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, p in the v, cum touching, jerking off, bruised willy, busted wrist, gary has had it up to here, everyone is consenting gleefully, jerking off to a live show, cum play (ish), talk of cum, weed is smoked, mention of religious trauma, premature ejaculation YEEHAW!

Author's Notes: for my very own november prompt challenge THE GLANDOLORIAN of course being dropped right at the buzzer.

Thanks to @strang3lov3, @noxturnalnymph & @bitchesuntitled for their eyes, minds, thots and love - i would have let my utter defiance take over and not done this without your encouragement. Thanks also to @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

No more tag lists - follow @beefnotes + turn on notifications for fic updates!

You stood behind the ticket desk, supposed to be counting the float and getting ready for the evening’s show but instead you were bored out of your mind and sweating in your polyester toga. Once again, the owners decided to not fix the AC to cut costs, and the humidity plus the sweltering heat was giving you a horrible case of swamp ass and a foul mood.

Colosseum Capers (aka ‘Capers’) was a Medieval Times knock off, started in 1979 by two brothers who had a shitty idea fueled by a night out at a shitty bar. They had sold it to a corporate group in the late 80’s who had developed a mall on the plot next door and had changed hands many times over since. It was some real estate investment trust that was letting it run into the ground now. It wasn’t glamorous, but it paid the bills and got you up close and personal with B and C list celebrities, and free concessions, keeping your monthly grocery bill lower than average. That, and if you batted your lashes at Gary, the manager, you could get your gas paid for every now and then.

There were a lot of perks in this dump, but the one thing that made Capers almost not worth it was the star - Dieter Bravo. He was a washed up 1990’s soap actor who hadn’t actually done anything of note since he showed up to the Emmys drunk, high, or both in 2003, then allegedly passed out backstage and pissed his pants. You have to say allegedly because at the time, Dieter had enough money to have a team that gave enough of a shit to scrub the media, stopping the release of the details. But now? Now he was ‘Marcus Acacius, Gladiator of Rome’ five to seven nights a week in a shitty dinner show theatre two blocks from the Las Vegas strip. No one gave a shit about him except those who recognized him from his days on The Young & The Restless.

You couldn’t stand him. Despite how far he had fallen, it still wasn’t enough to knock his ego down; he was arrogant and obnoxious, slept with the majority of the female staff - and a few of the male staff, too. He’d tried to bed you once, his gravelly, sleep deprived, booze fueled voice cawing at you to come to his dressing room one evening. You’d rolled your eyes in disgust, never once being fooled by him, declining him just as rudely as he had offered. In response, from then on in, Dieter pretended you either didn’t exist or antagonized you, giving you orders or interfering if someone was speaking to you to let them know you were a ‘celibate bitch’, landing you with the nickname ‘CeeBee’.

The only good thing about Dieter was the one thing his drunk, out-of-shape ass needed to play gladiator - Din. When Dieter couldn’t take to the stage, Din stepped in. He took no credit and played Dieter playing a Gladiator well enough for only die-hard Dieter fans to notice and those seemed to be dwindling in numbers season by season.

If Din had asked you to his dressing room (if he had one), nothing could have stopped you from going to it. He was everything Dieter was not. He was quiet, polite, sweet, sober, and while he looked like a younger, less bloated version of Dieter, you found him far more handsome and attractive. The only problem was that Din was never anything but polite in the most standoffish way to you and anyone else who he interacted with - no joke pulled a smile on his face, you had never heard him laugh once, and he was insanely private. Beyond his name and his age - which you had to suss out from the badly stored employment records - you knew nothing about him.

Din Djarin, 36 years old, male was what you knew to be a fact. Great body, patience of a saint, likes plain soda water, potentially hung, gorgeous brown eyes, soft-looking brown hair were based solely on your observational skills. Everything else about him was a mystery.

“Ceebee!”

You groaned outwardly and rolled your eyes when you heard Gary’s voice. It was too hot and you felt too gross to want to deal with his bullshit.

“I know you heard me ‘cause I heard that attitude!”

Sucking in a deep breath, you stood up from leaning on the counter and yelled back. “What, Gary?!”

“Bravo. Get him. Need to know if we gotta call Din for tonight.”

“No, Gary, you do it! It’s too hot for me to deal with his bullshi-”

“CeeBee, goddamnit! Now!”

You could hear the final threads of Gary’s triple bypass fraying in his voice. You knew he hated Dieter more than you did and if he had the power, Dieter would have been fired years ago and Din would be the gladiator full time. And you knew that if you were hot, the overweight, balding 67-year-old Gary was feeling it worse, and despite what an aggravating human he could be, he was also the closest thing to a friend you had in this city. Today was not the day to give him a hard time.

Huffing, you stepped out from behind the ticket counter and stomped down the ramp to the ‘Staff Only’ door, and pushed through. As soon as you opened the door, the acrid smell of weed from a bong hit you and you grimaced. You didn’t want to go any closer to his dressing room, so you called out, not attempting to hide your irritation.

“Bravo! Gary wants to know if you’re-”

“Ceebee! Baby! Come on in - don’t be shy!”, Dieter interrupted in a lazy, rough but loud voice.

“No. Gary wants to know if you’re g-”

“Fuck Gary and get in here. Not gonna pull anything!”, he barked, then sang out, “‘less you wan’ me to...”

You scowled as you heard the smug grin in his voice. Against your better judgement, you let out a harsh huff and stepped into his open doorway. There he was, the bastard, laid back on a couch not even fit for a second hand store, in his green robe and boxers. His face was pulled into a large, stupid smile and his eyes were red and heavy lidded.

“Hey pretty lady…”

The way he looked at you and spoke made you want to shave your head with a cheese grater, but you’d promised Gary last week that you’d try and be more cordial with Dieter, so you slapped a tight smile on your face and crossed your arms.

“Bravo. Ga-”

“CeeBee… honey, you look tense.” He patted the couch next to him. “Come on, baby, take a hoot. Chill out.”

“Gary wants to know if he’s gotta call Din in.”

The lazy smile on his face dropped slightly, and the small bit of his eyes you could see seemed to grow darker. Until that moment, the insecurity Dieter had over Din being better suited for this job had never occurred to you, but you could see it clear as day now. “Fuckin’ Din…”, he growled as he stood up and moved towards you.

Trying to not let him see how intimidated you were as he stood far closer than you thought necessary as he glowered down at you, you held that tight smile and looked him up in the face.

“Tell Gary to call Din so he can watch me-”, he snarls lowly, poking his finger into your collarbone, “-an’ see how this show is ‘sposed to be done.”

After you’d relayed the message to Gary and watched his face go even redder, you went back to the ticket desk and tried to look busy. Gary was going to be in a mood tonight, having to pay both Dieter and Din to be there, and given how hot it was, he already knew that attendees would complain about the lack of AC so admission would be 50% instead of having to issue refunds. It was going to be a long, rough night.

For the next hour, you handled the small crowd of attendees coming in, then hit a lull, allowing you a moment to pull out your phone and scroll through your socials mindlessly.

“Hey.”

Din’s voice cut through the ambient crowd chatter from the lobby and theatre and you clumsily tucked your phone in your bra and looked up, trying to give him as sweet and soft of a smile you could muster.

“Hey yourself.” You cringed internally at the saccharine, soft tone of your voice, but you couldn’t help but fall into this coquettish nightmare version of yourself when he was around.

Din swallowed and nodded, eyes darting over you nervously. He cleared his throat and tapped the desk a few times and nodded again.

“Let Gary know I’m here, yeah?”, he murmured, taking one last look at you before heading down the ramp to Dieter’s dressing room.

You watched him walk away, his tight little ass hugged beautifully in his dark, faded jeans, and you let out a hopelessly desperate breath. Din, despite being an enigma to you, had you in a chokehold and he didn’t even know it.

That routine carried on for the next week: Gary would send you to Dieter to see if he needed to call Din; Dieter would make a vague pass at you and when rejected, he would tell you Din needed to come in; Gary would look like he was going to have an aneurysm; Din would come in and shyly say hello.

Capers was closed on Sundays and this particular Saturday felt like it was dragging. Before Gary could call out and send you to Dieter’s room, you were already at his office door asking if he needed to know if Din was coming in. Opening the ‘Staff Only’ door and being hit in the sinuses with weed haze didn’t have the same impact as it had before and you didn’t bother announcing yourself before you walked into Dieter’s dressing room.

“Din?”, you asked flatly, giving him a bored look.

He looked up at you, noting your lack of enthusiasm and his interest was piqued. “Awe, CeeBee. Take a seat and a hoot with me, sweetheart.”

If you had been blindfolded and didn’t already know he was sitting in front of you, you wouldn’t have known it was Dieter speaking; his tone was much softer and almost Din-like. For a moment, your guard was dangerously close to coming down and the way he looked at you through the blue haze from his bong was almost too enticing for you to ignore.

But then he coughed hard and let out a fart, making himself laugh. The illusion was broken and a scowl sat on your bored face.

“Din?” you repeated in a far more firm tone.

Dieter continued to giggle and cough, obviously ignoring your annoyance and once he was settled he nodded before taking another hit off the bong. He sat upright and blew the smoke into the air, coughing again.

“Yeah, baby… you know the drill. He needs to watch the master work.”

“And you really think that’s you? Seriously?”

It came out before you could stop yourself. God, you must be PMS’ing what with your inability to hold back your words or your facial expressions.

Dieter stilled, eyeing you warily. You saw the shift. The annoying stoner had evaporated into the smoke in the room and what was now standing from the couch was a considerably angry looking Dieter.

“What was that?” His voice was solid and low, almost coming out in a dangerous growl.

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out as he took a few strides and stood above you, glaring down at you.

“I didn’t catch that, CeeBee. You wanna say that again?”

The low and burning timbre of his voice did something to you that you hated more than anything - it turned you on. You could feel how wet you were getting as his intense puffs of breath from his nose hit you in the face. His brown eyes were dark and narrowed right onto yours and just by shifting his weight he was closer to you, backing you against the wall next to his door. His hand came up beside your head, planting his palm on the wall while the other gripped your chin ever so gently.

His head tilted slightly and his voice was softer, but still held the edge of his temper. “I put up with a lot from you, you know, CeeBee. Don’t think you appreciate what a fuckin’ gentleman I’ve been.”

Despite the position you were in, you couldn’t help but scoff. Dieter shook his head, his grip on your chin becoming a bit firmer.

“I mean it. I’ve been good. You think anyone would hear you scream from down here?”

Your eyes widened slightly at the threat and he smiled.

“There it is.”, he chuckled darkly. “Knew you were a smart girl.”

He leaned forward, mouth far too close to yours and murmured, “Might not be as in shape as the Virgin Din, but I know how to take you down a few pegs, honey…”

God dammit. Fuck. Whatever he was doing was working and the self loathing you had become well acquainted with in all your morning afters was getting itself ready for another bout. But then your mind stopped, going back to what he said about Din.

“Virgin?”

The smug smirk on Dieter’s face grew into a smile as he leaned back and he purred, “Yeah, you think that nerd has ever put his dick in anything that wasn’t made of silicone?”

You could feel yourself getting hotter and wetter by the second. Why was Dieter talking about Din like that so hot? And why did his eyes boring into yours as he spoke make you feel like you were being put in your place? Sure, you’d maintained prolonged eye contact with Dieter in a standoff situation more than once. But this? This was different; he had the upper hand and knew it, and was now toying with you.

His hand on your chin moving down to your neck and barely putting any pressure, like he was testing the waters. His eyes followed suit.

“I can see your pulse…”, he murmured, eyes lidded and fixed on the side of your neck. He brushed his thumb over your pulse point and his eyes snapped back up to yours. He inhaled and in his exhale, he breathed out, “You like this…”

He wet his lips and he had you wound so tightly around his fingers, you could have come from that act alone. Dieter was mesmerizing and his ability to seduce was something you never expected.

“I caught you watching him, you know.” With that low growl of a declaration, you swear you saw a possessive flash in his eyes, and his grip on your throat tightened slightly. “He wouldn’t know what to do with you. But I do…”

“Bra-Bravo… ple-”

He cut you off with a grin. “You wanna break that vow of celibacy you been clingin’ to?”

You scoffed and bit back, “I have not been celibate!”

Dieter laughed lowly and leaned in, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “You just fuckin’ everyone but me, huh?” Then pressed another kiss to your cheek. “Whorin’ it up and not letting me have a bite?” He kissed the other cheek. “So mean, baby.”

He ghosted his mouth over yours, and he pulled back as you tried to catch his lips with your own. You let out a soft whimper and he returned a mock-pout to you in response. “Awe, CeeBee. Don’t tell me that all you needed was a firm hand and I coulda fucked you on this couch years ago…”

“Fuck you…” You spat through gritted teeth.

“I’d love to, honey.” The juxtaposition between the softness of his eyes and voice, and the force of his hand pushing between your thighs made your head spin. His large hand cupped your whole crux and his middle finger pressed the cheap, thin polyester fabric of your toga against your thong-clad slit.

Dieter sucked in a breath between his teeth and looked almost pained and he groaned, “Fuck, you’re soaked…”

It was like he broke character at the hint of a sopping wet pussy and the real Dieter came back out for a split second. “I need her, CeeBee… bet she’s aching for me, too.”

His mouth met yours in a hungry, fevered, desperate kiss, his tongue shoving its way past your teeth and against yours. You gripped onto anywhere you could - neck, shoulders, hair - and he grabbed your ass and hauled you up and over to the couch, letting you fall back onto it unceremoniously. Before you could react, he was down on his knees between your open legs, frantically tossing your toga skirt up, covering your head.

“Bravo! What the fu-ooooooh!” Your confusion turned to pleasure as his mouth kissed your heat through your thong with the same fervor he’d kissed your mouth.

He reached under you as he kept his mouth on you, pulling your thong down. He sat up and brought the small clump of damp fabric to his nose and inhaled.

“I fuckin’ knew it…”, he groaned. “Holdin’ out this sweet of a pussy on me.”

He dove back in.

Unbeknownst to both you and Dieter, Gary got tired of waiting. He’d assumed that you and Dieter were having a blowout argument and that’s why you hadn’t returned yet and he called Din in. Whether Dieter was going on tonight or not, just in case he decided to throw a fit, Din needed to be here.

Twenty-five minutes later, Din walked in the front door and was surprised to see the ticket desk unmanned. He was disappointed; he liked seeing you and seeing that smile and hearing your voice. Even if outwardly he didn’t show it, he had nightly dreams about pulling you apart and making you whimper and whine under him. But he never took the chance; a girl like you probably already knew what a good fuck felt like and Din hadn’t made love to anyone ever. Never even gotten a blowjob, let alone a handjob. What 36 year-old was still a virgin? He knew what kind - him. The loser who grew up in a religious cult, the kid with the only outside influence being kung fu and swashbuckling movies watched in secret in his cousin’s basement. Those were the only taste of the outside world he had and as soon as he turned 18 and escaped, he found a mixed martial arts studio to train him then he found Caper… and then you. It would have all been perfect - if he knew what to do with his dick.

He sighed and dropped his shoulders. Adjusting his backpack, he wandered down the ramp to the ‘Staff Only’ door and pushed in.

The first thing that hit him was the smell of Dieter’s weed, and before he could feel nauseated at the smell again, he heard… Din furrowed his brows. He knew that sound, but only in his late night fantasies. His eyes widened and he sucked in a breath, covering his mouth.

It was you.

Then he heard Dieter, grunting and groaning, and his heart sank. Just from those sounds alone, he knew Dieter had finally sunk his claws into you and he didn’t have a hope in hell in having you to himself. He swallowed back the dejected huff, about to turn away and leave. But he couldn’t; the chance to at least get to see you all laid out and in ecstasy was too great a temptation, even if he wasn’t the one to do it to you.

Cautiously, he took a few steps to Dieter’s dressing room door. It was open halfway and he thought if he could just take a peek, just get a glimpse, he would be set for the next six months at least in his nightly self-loving session.

He crept up to the door, peering around the frame, and almost choked. There you were, naked and on your hands and knees, crying out and gripping the sofa as Dieter had one foot planted on the floor and the other he kneeled on as he pounded into you, his hand digging into the soft flesh of your hips. His mouth went dry and he could feel his jeans getting tighter in the crotchular region, mindlessly rubbing his bulge against the door frame in small motions.

When Dieter reached one of his thick arms around your waist and brought your back up flush with his front and Din got his first look at your bare breasts, bouncing in time with Dieter’s thrusts, he let out an involuntary groan, inadvertently alerting you and Dieter to his presence.

Your eyes, hazy and heavy lidded, snapped to Din’s face watching through the doorway and Dieter chuckled into your ear before sucking your lobe into his mouth. His eyes bore into Din’s and Din couldn’t look away. He couldn’t move, he was frozen in place.

Dieter smiled, his teeth holding on to your ear as he grunted and thrusted up into you.

“Din… her cunt’s perfect. Ripe and ready to snatch your v-card, buddy.”

You watched as Din’s hips involuntarily bucked against the door frame and Dieter felt you flutter and clench around him.

“Mmmm… she wants you, too, my dude.”

You whined as Dieter let you go, shoving you face down on the couch and pulling out. Din watched with eyes wide as Dieter walked tall and proud towards him, his cock bouncing up against his paunch of a belly. Din stumbled back, his back hitting the wall and Dieter stepped out into the hallway and crowded again Din, caging him between his arms and bringing his face right up to his.

“You wanna taste her?” Dieter rasped, his mouth close enough to Din’s that he could smell your tangy musk on his breath.

Din’s mouth was agape and eyes wide as Dieter leaned in and kissed him. It was much softer than Din could have ever expected Dieter to be, but he gasped into Dieter’s grin when the older man’s hand palmed the front of Din’s jeans, feeling just how hard his dip into voyeurism had made him.

“Oh you’re ready, aren’t you, buddy…”, Dieter grunted, pulling back slightly to watch as Din’s eyes rolled back as he applied more pressure and Din bucked his hips against his hand. He smiled as he watched the younger man pant and huff and he kissed him again, this time more aggressively. Dieter then pulled Din away from the wall and dragged him into his dressing room, standing behind him while ensuring Din’s eyes were on you. Dieter wrapped his arms around his slight waist and started undoing his jeans as he kissed his neck.

“Now… Ceebee’s ready… got her all primed up for you.”, he purred, then nodded towards you. “Show him.”

You hesitated, unsure if this is not only what you really wanted but also for Din. But then Din bit his lip looking at you in a way that set your body on fire and Dieter gave you a firm glare, wordlessly taking control of the situation. You tentatively laid back and opened your legs, pussy puffy, pink and glistening. Din whimpered and Dieter smiled darkly at you.

“Good girl…” His tone was low and dark and he kissed Din’s neck again, sliding the zipper fly of his jeans down. “You want that? Wanna feel it wrap around your dick, there, bud?”

Din nodded eagerly, a pained, yearning look on his face as his eyes stayed glued to your exposed core.

“Yeah?”, Dieter breathed out against Din’s neck, lifting his shirt to expose his toned midriff. “I know you’re packin’...”

Din huffed out a whine and closed his eyes, leaning back as Dieter’s hand pushed down his underwear enough that his cock slapped up against his stomach. The top was red and weeping, looking painfully hard. Dieter gently gripped it and you watched as Din’s knees nearly buckled as he let out a loud whine.

“Shhh… I know… new things… overwhelming… Doing so good for me, buddy.”, Dieter cooed softly, his thick arm holding Din up against him while the other gently began to stroke him. “Ceebee, honey… look at him. Fuckin’ hung…”

Your eyes hadn’t left Din’s cock. Even in Dieter’s large hand it looked big, and your cunt ached in need. You sucked in a breath through your nose and your lips parted as you exhaled shakily.

“She likes you, Din… Look at her. All flushed and needy… look how wet she is…”

Din nodded and whimpered, biting his lip hard as Dieter spoke softly as he stroked him. His head lolled back onto Dieter’s shoulder and he panted out, “I… I wan’her… but I-I don’know wha-”

“Shhhh… Dieter Bravo has you covered, buddy. Bet you you’re gonna wanna marry her after this.”

He nipped his neck and released Din’s cock and put his hands on his hips. Din huffed out, a pained look on his face and Dieter nodded to you.

“Look at her, Din… You wanna feel how warm and wet she is?” Dieter’s voice was low and his eyes were menacingly dark. He nudged Din towards you, his shins and knees hitting the edge of the couch between your open legs.

You looked up at him, lips parted and brows furrowed; he looked perfect and so very overwhelmed. His hair was beginning to stick to his forehead and his small, husky whimpers were making it very hard to not just get him away from Dieter.

“Din… if you don’t want thi-”

“N-no!”, he choked out, looking down at you. His pupils had taken over his whole eye and his features were pulled in a way that made him look almost demonic. “No… fuck, no I wan-want this- you. I want you.”

You nodded, your breath hitching at his apparent enthusiastic - and slightly unnerving - need.

“Atta boy, Dinny…”, Dieter praised in a growl. “You wan’her snatch suckin’ you in?”

Din nodded, mouth hung open, panting as his eyes stared at your pussy. Dieter continued to chuckle, gripping Din’s hips as his cocked stayed hard and twitching against his flat stomach.

“You ever touched the winking eye of god, buddy?” Dieter cooed. Din shook his head slightly, still dumbly staring down at you. Dieter nudged Din again, onto his knees between your legs. “Go on… don’t be shy…”

Din brought a shaky hand to your core, a whisper soft touch of his index finger moved slowly around your hole and then up against your clit, making you twitch and let out a gasping whine.

“See? She likes that…” Dieter’s eyes flick to you. “Don’t you, CeeBee?”

You nodded and moaned out an ‘uh-huh’. You let out a whimpering yelp as he pushed two fingers into you suddenly, and Dieter’s hand gripped his wrist.

“Ho, ho, ho, buddy! Easy… gotta be gentle with her…”, he tsk’d softly, his brows furrowed and he pulled Din’s hand back gently.

“S-sorry… I-”

“S’okay, Din… it’s okay…”, you nodded looking up at him. It didn’t hurt, it just surprised you.

Dieter moved his hand up over Din’s and adjusted Din’s thumb over your clit, having him apply just the right amount of pressure in a circular motion. “That’s it… ringin’ the devil’s doorbell…”

Dieter released his hand and Din pushed two fingers back into you slowly, keeping the mobile pressure on your bundle of nerves. Despite the slight jerky motions and the bit of hangnail Din had on one of his fingers, for a first timer, it felt pretty good. Dieter patted Din’s hip and moved around to you, dipping his head down and kissing you.

“You gonna give him a good time, CeeBee?” The softness in his eyes and the direct way he asked told you that he ironically and weirdly had a great deal of respect for the ritual you were about to take part in, the one involving Din losing his virginity.

You nodded, huskily replying, “Yeah, Bravo-ooh fuck! Yes… r-right there!” then panting out moans.

Din’s long fingers had found the spot that had evaded so many men in your life. And he hit it over and over, and his thumb, the way his thumb kept the motion on it…

Dieter got up quickly and moved behind Din, his hands on his shoulders, nodding. “Keep doing that… Yes, yeah, good boy. Yeah… when she makes that sound? You keep doing whatever it is you were doing when she made that sound.”

Din’s breath panted out between his teeth as he bit his lip in time with his fingers in and out of you. Dieter didn’t know where to look: you, knees bent and legs open, whining and arching your back or Din, sweating and hypnotized by your pussy sucking his fingers in. He swallowed hard and put his hands back on Din’s slim waist and almost hoarsely encouraged him as he looked at you over his shoulder.

“Come on, buddy… you got her this close… come on… make her cry… keep - Christ on a cracker - keep going…”

Din’s breath hitched with each inhale and his cock was painfully hard, beading precum on his toned stomach, and you could feel your orgasm slipping with his loss of rhythm. You reached down and gently grabbed his wrist to stop him, looking at his face.

Din was on another level of existence. His eyes were glazed and his bottom lip was wet and reddened from his worrying it between his teeth and his cheeks, neck and the part of his chest you could see were flushed and damp.

“Buddy…”, Dieter whispered as he pressed soft kisses on his neck. “She wants you, baby…”

Din nodded loosely, his brows furrowing, and the only sound that came from him was a low whine as Dieter’s hands pulled his jeans and underwear down further on his hips. You sat up and tugged his t-shirt up and off his body and there he was.

“God, I remember when I looked this good…”, Dieter groaned, reaching around and smearing his hand through the precum on Din’s stomach. Din hissed and groaned as Dieter gripped his cock and rolled his foreskin up and over the tip with a gentle twist a few times, making the younger man shudder and whine and lean back against him.

You watched this severely intimate moment between the two men and you could feel your arousal slick your hole even more than it was. “Din…”, you mewled.

Dieter’s gaze snapped to you and he grinned, his brow flicking. “Hear that, buddy? She’s askin’ for you. You and your big, fuckin’ hog. Wants you to rail her. You think you can?”

“Y-yesgodpleaseyes!”, DIn grunted out, desperation and agony bleeding his words together.

Dieter nodded, a silent, huffed chuckle rippled out of him and over Din’s skin, and you watched the goosebumps raise where it touched. He stopped his movement and held his cock, thumbing the slit gently. “How you gonna take her, huh? You wanna fuck’er from behind, holdin’ on to her tits? She feels so good like th-”

“I… wanna see… her face.”, he stammered out slack jawed, keeping his dazed eyes on yours.

Wordlessly you took his hand and pulled him down to you, and he responded by kissing you. Given that it was only his second time locking lips with another person ever, you excused how wide he had his mouth and how forcefully his tongue jabbed your teeth.

You reached between the two of you and wrapped your hand around Din’s aching member and he whined pitifully into your mouth, bucking his hips. Dieter put his hands on his waist and dug his fingers in as he hotly growled into Din’s ear, “So fuckin’ ready, Dinny-boy!”

You notched Din’s cock at your waiting entrance and he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, with Dieter hushing him from behind.

It was then that you heard him - Gary was yelling for you, Dieter or Din as he walked down the ramp towards the ‘Staff Only’ door. Dieter’s head whipped up and at his open dressing room door then back at you, eyes wide with a hesitant grin pulling at one side of his mouth.

“You two… you keep going… I’ll - “, he stated softly, thumbs pointing at the door, and with that, he got up, threw on his robe.

It was almost too late when Dieter bounded towards the door and he ended up slamming it behind him just as Gary walked into the hallway.

“Bravo, I been callin’ for-” “We are meditating.”, Dieter replied, trying to keep his tone as ‘zen’ as possible as he put his palms together and bowed. “We are healing what is fractured.”

Gary stared at him for a beat before narrowing his eyes. “You’re what?” “Meditating. And you are bringing in some real bad energy, there, Gare-bear.”

“What the fuck did you just call me?”, Gary barked back, confusion and nervousness right under the surface.

Dieter smiled, keeping his voice smooth and calm. “Your negative vibes are giving you what we call ‘energy constipation’... so come in, sit on the floor with us and hum your body’s vibration to give yourself a spiritual laxative.”

Gary must have thought that he died and this was his own personal hell. He stared at Dieter for a second too long, trying to find anything to say, but only managed a hoarsely gruff “No.” before he turned and left the hallway.

Dieter watched him leave and when the ‘Staff only’ door closed, he breathed out a sigh of relief and returned to the room.

Din had his eyes clenched shut, hissing curses under his breath as you hushed him. Dieter couldn’t ignore the want apparent in your voice.

“He in yet?”, he asks softly, crawling in behind Din again. He noted you giving him a nodding shrug and he nodded back. “Buddy, come on…”

Dieter gripped Din’s hips and pushed them forward gently enough for his cock to wedge its way into you. You gasped and gripped Din’s shoulders.

“Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod!”, Din whined out as his cock moved into you. He tilted his head back, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

Din was thick and you were torn between feeling honored that you were the first to feel his girth stretch your pussy and what a shame it was that he wasn’t getting his hog sucked or fucked regularily. As his coarse hairs at the base of his pressed up against your clit, your mind went blank. Sure, you’d had dicks of all sizes throughout your trysts and encounters, but Din was the biggest. Even Dieter, with his extensive experience, couldn’t compare to how big Din was and what it was doing for you… apparently, size did matter.

“Jesus fuckin - Din… honey… you’re huge…”

Dieter’s hands on his hips pulled Din back and then pushed him forward. “Keep this pace…”, he murmured, peering over Din’s shoulder. “Look… look down… Jesus, look…”

Din managed to bring his head down and it was almost too much, seeing your tits rise and fall with each breath while his cock went into you and came out, shining with your arousal.

“There’s nothing better, Dinny-boy…”, Dieter cooed before kissing his neck. You watched between slitted eyelids as one of his hands came up to Din’s chest, gently tweaking one of his nipples.

It happened in slow motion: Din’s body jerked and he let out an agonized groan, your eyes widened and you grabbed his arms, and Dieter’s smile dropped and he pulled Din’s hips back.

Din’s cock was already spewing white, pearly cum as it popped up and out of you. His come dribbled out of your pussy and off your mound, lips and the creases where your thighs met your crux, pooling under you. All three of you were breathing heavily, while Din’s brows furrowed above his clenched eyes and you and Dieter exchanged glances.

The quiet of all of your breathing was cut by Dieter scoffing, “Well that was fuckin’ rude.”

You stared at him, completely disgusted by his audacity and snapped, “Bravo, what the fuck??”

Din murmured “I’m sorry.” and you sympathetically rubbed his arm.

“It’s okay… we ca-we can try again?”, you offered softly.

Dieter scoffed again, sounded offended, but you weren’t sure at what. “No! I saw what you did there, Din, and that was NOT the way! You’re cleanin’ up his fuckin’ mess like a gentleman!”

“Dieter - Jesus Christ!”

He roughly grabbed Din around the waist and pulled him back with one arm and his other wrapped under his armpit in a Half Nelson, his hand gripping his hair. His grin was scarily intimidating. “Party’s not over. You’re gonna make her cum, fingers and mouth.”

Din nodded, clearly spooked but fully on board for whatever, and Dieter shoved his face into your pussy and held it there.

If Din was shaky on his first time putting his dick in a pussy, he was a natural born killer with his mouth. He took to it like a fish to water, intuitively going for your clit with tongue then his mouth. You let out a sigh and smiled, feeling like you had to fight your eyes from crossing.

“Yeah…”, Dieter groaned, letting Din go and getting up. He pushed his weed rolling tray off the coffee table and shoved his pants to his ankles before sitting on the table and gripping his cock in his hands while he had a front row seat to Din eating you out.

Din had watched enough porn and read enough about how eating pussy was like using your tongue to get the meat from between the bones on a chicken wing that he felt confident enough about it, and your sighs and soft breathy sounds encouraged him to keep going.

He adjusted his face lower, shoving his tongue into you and ground his nose against your bundle of nerves, sending a wave of pleasure over your body. The only thing that could dampen this was -

“She taste good, buddy?”, Dieter grunted, tugging his cock. His face was red and sweaty and on every downstroke, his fist pushed into his belly.

“Shut the fuck up, Bravo!”, you hissed, arching your back slightly and grabbed your tits,worrying your nipples between your fingers.

Dieter grinned, grunting, “Tell me to shut up again… I wanna cum on your tits while he tongue fucks you.”

You were about to retort, but Din moved his mouth back up to your clit, and shoved a few fingers into you and began pumping them in and out. You pinched your nipples hard and cried out, screeching his name and Din moaned and whined as your arousal squirted up his arm and on his lower face.

Dieter stood up and took a step towards you but tripped over his pants still around his ankles, falling face first on the floor.

Din sat up, his shoulders rising and falling with the biggest grin on his wet face. “You’re so pretty…”

You thought it was such an oddly innocent thing to say to you, given the things that just transpired, but you smiled at him. You both couldn’t hold back the giggles and Din caged you between his elbows as he leaned down and kissed you.

As you made out on the couch, Dieter groaned face down on the floor. “I think I broke my dick.”

That night’s show went down as one of the best Din had ever given, while Dieter went to the hospital for a broken wrist and potentially bruised phallus. You were sure Gary knew exactly what had happened in the dressing room, but he said nothing beyond a quick nod and a maybe half smile.

The doors opened and you looked at the rows of friends and family in rows on either side of the room, then your eyes locked with Din as he stood at the other end of the aisle, next to Dieter. His mouth twitched, showing the emotion he was trying to keep at bay, as you walked towards him. When you finally stood in front of him, he took your hand, and you both faced Dieter.

“Dearly beloved.”, Dieter started with a smile. “You are gathered here to watch me marry these two chucklefucks because I’m the one who brought them together.”

Gary huffed angrily from the front row. “Jesus Christ, Bravo.”

No more tag lists - follow @beefnotes + turn on notifications for fic updates!

#the glandolorian 2024 #dieter bravo #din djarin #reader insert fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #x reader #x female reader #female reader #🥩

146 notes · View notes

inchidentalmeowmeow · 8 months ago

Text

That sweat drop was a paid actor 🥵

Resurfacing this Max gif cuz wtf

#i am not proud of the sound i made when this popped up on my pinterest feed #sir what the hell #man’s chest is a mile wide #pls sir hv mercy 😭#max verstappen #mv33 #mv #f1 #formula 1 #lestappen #< just adding this in case anyone wants to delulu with me #cuz IMAGINE

307 notes · View notes

kremlin · 4 months ago

Text

i actually do know who needs to hear this, it’s most people, in fact, it’s likely you, statistically; we are entering the american election campaign season, and there are caveats i’d like you to be aware of, and to that effect, i am cashing in on my many years of demonstrated knowledge about The Computer.

you indeed cannot trust what you read on the internet. someone will, indeed, go on here and tell lies. this is no shocker to you, you know this, i know this, i know you know this, but i insist you think about it.

you must know my beliefs regarding conspiracy theories fall far, far to one side of the spectrum: i do not believe them. i dismiss them out of hand on principle. axiomatically. and i am here today to tell you the concept, existence, execution, and proximity of paid, phony, engagement-manipulated, political advertisement is not only real, it is the status quo.

would you describe yourself to others as:

A.) smarter than than they think you are

B.) not as dumb as they think you are

if you responded with option A, you are more than likely to be greatly more susceptible to these underhanded messages than you think. option B respondent’s outlook is brighter, only relatively. to restate this in a more digestible way, there are two wolves inside you, one takes top-voted comments to reddit posts on face value. the other, takes top-voted comments to reddit posts on face value. you take top-voted comments to reddit posts on face value.

those responsible for such comments are effective in their endeavors, because they think about it. they do not approach their work mystically nor inefficiently. they know what to say to you, because they know what language you speak.

a thoughtless individual would read one of the only proper noun phrases in this post, “american election season”, and limit their perspective to exactly two possible entities to watch out for. this individual has, with a pep in their step and a whistle on their lips, stepped directly on a land mine. maybe this individual was you, if so, don’t sweat it, allow me to yank you away at the last moment by your shirt collar. there's tertiary actors at play, and possibly even more, if only we could invent a word that mean's "the fourth thing" and so on

a very large, very easily guessable country has, for some time now, engaged in organized astroturfing or misinformation or disinformation or whatever-you-want-to-call-it campaigns, to great effect, with their angle being to flood the airwaves with so much conflicting information that you, the individual, feel hopeless, and lose your confidence in discerning truth from fiction.

i use this example not because that country or my country or this election or whatever is a key component here, they're not, this applies to everyone using the internet socially, and if you don't think there are disingenuous actors' words appearing on your computer screen at some regular rate, you're also stepping on a landmine.

you just have to think about things, and maybe, from time to time, turn on an electric stove and put your finger on it to remind yourself that there is indeed a very real, objective reality we live in, and that if you find yourself asking, "how can we see if our eyes aren't real", someone has put rats in your head

it goes beyond just politics though, hell, i would describe all of modern marketing to use essentially these same tricks. don't fall for them! my technique is to just approach any written text found online, most especially "comments", with the same utter hater energy as salieri in amadeus.

and hey, while you're at it, pass this thinking along to kids, they're kind-of the first generation that has to deal with an internet that is mostly ingenuine meaningless bullshit, not like we had it, when it was mostly genuine meaningless bullshit.

#words #w

91 notes · View notes

maliciousblog · 7 months ago

Text

Smile for the camera (Eunwoo)

He was binging on your latest drama. You had finally caught your big break as a lead in a successful drama as the main lead.

The drama ranking No.1 in many countries ,shooting you into stardom. Earning you much critical acclaim and praise not only for your talent but also your beauty with a whole new army of fans with it.

Him included he initially admired your talent his guilty pleasure being watching your interviews and saving the cute fan edits that were made of you. His admiration for your work blooming into a little crush for you. He was taken for your personality and work ethic.

He tried to get his agent to book a project with you but given your sudden shooting up in popularity you were booked and busy.

Music video shoots , runway shows , ad campaigns you name it your face was on it.

Not that you would complain about it.

You loved working the job you had genuinely bought you joy.

As you were able to make dreams a reality through your work you could make art come to life.

You knew you busted your ass to get where you are.

Months of auditions only to be faced with constant rejection and when you finally did land a job it was a minor role not even noticeable to most.

When those countless hours of work finally paid off it was a dream come true a dream you had put your blood and sweat into.

The dream you spent your whole life working towards and you sure as hell weren't about to let these new opportunities pass you by.

So you took them as they came agreeing to every intriguing project your manager bought to you.

Currently you were at the launch of a beauty brand collaboration. You were appointed as the ambassador of the beauty brand star dust releasing a line for makeup inspired by your favourite desserts. The lip products named after the sweet treats you enjoyed to eat and the eyeshadow palettes inspired by your favourite colours.

To no one's surprise the launch went well and you were back home letting your aching feet get some rest.

Just as you were about to dooze off the shrill ring of your mobile woke you up half asleep your hands reaching in search for your phone.

Picking it up your manager's voice coming through telling you that you had an audition for a drama first thing in the morning you hummed in agreement and tossed the phone across the room. You were worn to the bone this was tomorrow's problem right now you had to rest in order to make your best impression tomorrow.

As you close your eyes in sleep another pair lay open restless at night.

Eunwoo lay awake nothing particularly stopping him from sleeping it was just one of those days.

When the air was stale and the bed was a little too warm to be comfortable.

Maybe a walk would help.

Rustling out of bed he pulled on a black hoodie and a cap. Conceal his face as he aimlessly walked down the city streets in an effort to tire himself out.

Looking into the buildings that lined the streets lit up with bright lights luring unsuspecting customers inside.

That's when he saw a poster of you advertising your makeup line.

He had some time on his hands and wouldn't do him much harm to go check it out.

He was supporting a fellow actor it was the right thing to do.

Birds of the same flock should look out for each other right?.

Before he knew it he was at the counter inspecting the products not that he would get much use out of them he did use makeup while filming but not exactly the sparkling and glittery kind but that didn't really matter now did it.

His desire for coming in wasn't for the makeup it was for you.

He grabbed a box set of your entire collection and headed for checking out.

The underpaid store clerk didn't take too much notice of him.

Monotonously scanning his items and bagging them not forgetting to slip in the complimentary photo cards of you.

Handing the bag to him before turning their eyes down back to scrolling through their phone.

He grabbed his bag thanking the clerk ,heading back to his apartment.

Excitement blooming in his chest wondering which photocard he had gotten.

It felt weird is this what his fans felt like when they bought his merch.

He never thought he would be able to be in the shoes of his fans but here he was in their position.

It felt weird. He couldn't place what exactly it was you barely knew him.

Yet here he was getting giddy at the thought of which mystery little piece of cardboard with a selfie he would pull.

He grabbed some take out on him way back to his apartment.

Placing his food on one side of the table the other side he placed your merch tearing into the packaging inspecting the contents inside admiring it.

Saving the photocard for last it was a selfie of you holding a macaroon. He had to agree it was cute.

Slipping it into his wallet the action seemed so natural to him.

He had become a full on fan boy now. There was no going back.

The following days were spent buying out more of your merch in fact all the merch you had to offer.

Finding its place into his house.

The best of all was when he got a call from his agent that he was given an offer for a drama where you were cast as the female lead.

He agreed to it with a little too much enthusiasm that his agent had to ask him to at least check the script out first.

He replied that he would but for now to immediately inform production that he would accept the job.

He didn't care what the drama was about as long as he got the opportunity to work with you.

Imagine his joy when he discovered that it was a romance drama a sweet collage love story with you as him love interest and him as your leading man. The story was sweet and touching.

It was bound to gather success . the story was good , along with both of your talent and star power it was bound to be a hit.

He managed to rush production into starting filming as soon as possible stating that he would have scheduling issues if they didn't.

You were more than happy to get back into work.

Especially with someone like Eunwoo.

The first day on set went like any other day

The usual outfit fittings and test runs. Nothing out of the ordinary apart from your over enthusiastic costar.

It was endearing at first his enthusiasm to spend time with you.

His insistent demands to rehearse your scenes together before filming.

You couldn't deny them he was your senior and had much more power over production and executives than you did.

One word from him and you could get kicked off set.

You didn't have an option but to go along with what he said and agree to rehearse the scenes over and over again.

You guessed that he was just a perfectionist.

But it didn't end at that he insisted on spending as much time with you as he possibly could giving you the sorry excuse that he was method acting and he was just doing it in order to stay in character to make sure the emotional scenes were more believable and realistic.

In his perspective it was just a crush and he was just doing what he had to do to make sure you were in his sight and eventually fall for him.

Who could resist him.

He knew he had to play it safe with you he had to make sure his moves were precise and calculated.

You were too focused on your career to be dating.

Not that he didn't try.

The constant flirting and dropping one hint after the other.

He got your message loud and clear you weren't interested.

Honestly it was a little insulting and he would be lying if he didn't admit that it didn't sting his ego a little. He knew his worth and knew that he was more than a fine catch.

But you were just too stubborn. Weren't you but that was just a small issue he could easily fix.

You were so perfect together.

Everyone around you saw it.

The staff were head over heels for you both.

Your chemistry ozzed off the screen mostly because you were a good actor.

But something was missing in the plot.

Something that would send your life into a spiral.

Your pair was a little too perfect it would make the story boring to the audience.

Most of the filming was completed over the past 4 months but the story was a little flat. It lacked the drama that was needed to keep the audience hooked.

The writing department had to predictable idea of adding a second lead creating a love triangle.

It wasn't anything ground breaking or new but it was a good way to spice things up and add some drama enough to keep the audience hooked.

You didn't mind the change added to the script.

You could work with it.

But one member on set wasn't as flexible he spent the next few hours arguing with executives on the plot changes but their hands were tied the sponsors had invested too much into the drama for it to possibly not do well.

They had to do what production told them too.

There wasn't anything they could do to change it.

But at least it would only add a few more weeks onto the filming schedule he could work with that.

He knew it was a game of patience.

For now he just had to suck it up and choke back down the bile that raised in his throat each time he saw you and the second lead Yunho film together.

His crush escalated into obsession when he saw the both of you film for the first time.

It looked so natural.

It made his blood boil.

Especially when he heard some of the staff on set say that they were team Yunho. The thought of which made him white with rage.

The worst of it wasn't even when you were on camera.

It was your willingness to spend time with Yunho off camera.

It perplexed him.

You would constantly try to make stupid excuses to avoid spending time with him.

But here you were giggling away at the stupid jokes this boy cracked.

He couldn't see how much his presence suffocates you. Constantly hovering around you using every excuse to be near you.

Adding unnecessary intimate scenes to the show. Stealing kisses from you while on camera to make things seem more "believable".

It was pathetic and you saw right through it at first it was flattering but not it just felt like you were being taken advantage of and the worst thing about it was that there was nothing you could do about it.

It was a man's world and you knew that.

One wrong move from your side to piss off the wrong man in power and poff you would just be another star forgotten by time.

You just had to suck it up for a while longer it was just a couple more weeks of filming and everyone knew you would end up with him.

It was all part of the bigger picture.

Filming went by in a haze and you and him were filming a commercial for one of the sponsors of the show.

It was a perfume brand warranting a steamy little commercial.

It was the first look the public had to your pair and they ate it right up.

Buzz for your show skyrocketed as they couldn't help but to start shipping the both of you.

The chemistry was undeniably mesmerizing.

Which wasn't because you liked him it was just because you were a good actor.

Your dislike for him only grew with how cocky he was about the success of your advertisement.

The interviews and promotion that followed you drama was even more insufferable.

He made it his mission to sell the image of the ideal couple to the public.

It was a trap and you knew it.

He would post you on his social media and be flirtatious and drop constant hints of your make belief relationship.

He very well knew that if he had the public on his side he could get you to do anything he wanted.

If they believed that the both of you were a couple and began shipping the both of you.

You would have no choice but to be his.

If you broke it off with him the public would brand you a slut.

Breaking the heart of a man that loved you so dearly and sincerely.

How could you be so heartless.

Offers for work would start to drop and he would conveniently drop a cheating scandal on you and then poof overnight your career would be non existent.

It was a sick and twisted trap but one that would surely work.

Once the show aired to no one's surprise it was a hit. The numbers are higher than you had ever seen before.

Within weeks the both of you were being offered roles by big media houses to work together again.

Your agency was pressing you into dating him publicly.

Threatening to terminate your contact and black list you if you denied.

They knew that they would make huge profits off your relationship and were more than willing to squeeze out every last bit of it off you no matter what the price.

It was either that or losing the career you had spent your whole life building up.

You were in your apartment sobbing into your pillow when you heard the door to your room creak open.

There he stood with a beautiful bouquet of spider lilies in hand.

In the low light of your bedroom he almost looked like a statue his beauty was sickening in different circumstances you would consider yourself the luckiest girl in the world to have a man like him.

But only you could see behind his beautiful mask that hid his cruel intentions for you.

He came up to you wiping away your tears.

"You wouldn't have to go through all this if you just said yes.

Not that you have much of an option not to.

I can give you the world.

And you have to be such an ungrateful little bitch don't you."

You felt your scalp burn and he yanked you up by the hair to face him.

"You will go along with whatever I say.

You will do anything I ask of you.

Either that or I'll destroy you and everything you love.

I'm honestly being kind to you I could destroy your career and still have you.

But I'm being kind , agree to be my doting love struck girlfriend and you get to keep your precious little career.

I'm a reasonable man but I'm not a very forgiving man so don't take advantage of my kindness.

It would be unfortunate if I were to leak your family's private information now wouldn't it.

Just imagine what our crazed fans would do to them when they find out you hurt me and our relationship by being a selfish cunt."

You shoved him off you.

'Please just leave them out of this you want me right fine. Ju.. just please leave them out of it I'm begging you.'

You pleaded to him.

"See that's my good girl look how reasonable you are right now.

I would hate to see something bad happen to my in-laws.

So now be a good girl and pick up that bouquet and go post about how amazing of a boyfriend I am and how much you fucking love me alright."

He said as he left a kiss on your forehead leaving you there in shambles.

" By the way. You look really pretty when you beg. I should make you do it more often."

Once the news of your relationship was aired out into the world it has gone just as he predicted it would.

So the both of you had become the No.1 power couple of the entertainment industry.

He made sure you did a convincing job at playing the devoted partner who always supported him and stood by him no matter what.

He made sure to pick out your roles for you making sure you mostly worked with him or did solo lead movies and shows.

Making sure to keep your interaction with men that weren't him to an absolute minimum.

And it did work for a while but that didn't stop men from flirting with you or asking you out despite being in a very public relationship.

Who could blame them you were beautiful and off camera anyone could see your dislike for your boyfriend that occasionally showed on your face.

You always tried your level best to make sure that he would always be happy.

And his happiness was at the direct proportion to how well you behaved.

You soon realised he didn't just want a girlfriend he wanted to make sure you were his forever.

He wanted to put a stop to this unwanted male attention that you always drew onto yourself.

It wasn't enough. This relationship was enough it was too fragile it was too rocky.

You always felt like you were walking on thin ice when you were around him.

Trying to make sure you smile didn't falter, making sure the hugs and kisses you gave him felt genuine.

The words of affection you uttered towards him were genuine.

It wasn't too hard to convince him of it , you were an actor after all.

It wasn't too hard to give him the illusion of the perfect life he wanted.

What was hard was for you to accept defeat.

It was all part of his plan after all wasn't it.

The final piece of the puzzle.

He stood at the other side of the room as your sobbing echoed through the walls reaching his ears.

You slid down the walls clutching a positive pregnancy test. Knowing that all hopes of ever leaving him were gone.

There was no leaving him now.

Him baby trapping you would force you to marry him as soon as possible before anyone knew that you were pregnant.

He had it all now.

Successful career.

Loving wife and now a beautiful family.

You were finally defeated.

You were stuck with him now for life.

You loved your children and he did too.

You managed to convince the world that you loved him maybe one day you could convince yourself too.

You were no longer a person just another accessory that he paraded around on his arm.

Show off like a trophy that he had won.

He lived the life others could only ever dream of having. While you were stuck in a nightmare that he had carefully woven for you.

#dark #dark fic #kpop #yandere #yandere fic #yandere kpop #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #horror #cha eunwoo #astro eunwoo #eunwoo fanfic #dark!fic #eunwoo smut

104 notes · View notes

hotvintagepoll · 11 months ago

Text

Propaganda

Laurence Olivier (Hamlet, Rebecca, Pride and Prejudice)—Any reference article will tell you that he's one of the finest stage actors of the 20th century and (arguably) contributed to transforming the landscape of live theater in the Anglophone world. But this is the Tumblr hot men poll, where it is arguably more important to know that he was an incredibly charming bi disaster who eye-fucked Vivien Leigh so conspicuously that everyone talked about it, both before and after their marriage. I do not have words for how hot this man was. I once sat under a portrait of him in black velvet and tights in the NPG cafeteria, and let me tell you I remember that so much better than my sandwich. I listened to a recording of him as Coriolanus on stage and got full-body chills. I photographed his copy of Richard III in the Folger Shakespeare Library for the sake of seeing his handwriting and his thoughts. ...okay, so I may have a problem, but the point is. So hot. And delivered one of the iconic pre-1970 lines about bisexuality on film ("oysters *and* snails," Spartacus 1963.)

Harry Belafonte (Carmen Jones, Island in the Sun)—one of my favorite things in the world when I'm sad is kicking back and listening to him and Danny Kaye singing "Hava Nagila" together. Or who can forget this man singing the Banana Boat song with the Muppets?? immensely talented, a powerful fighter for civil rights and humanitarian causes his whole life, if you have any remaining doubts PLEASE look at the following pics [clips and pics attached below]

This is round 3 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Harry Belafonte propaganda:

youtube

"Now let me say this about the songs of the Caribbean - almost all black music is deeply rooted in metaphor. The only way that we could speak to the pain and anguish of our experiences was often through how we codified our stories in the songs that we sang. And when I sing the 'Banana Boat Song,' the song is a work song. It's about men who sweat all day long, and they are underpaid, and they're begging the tallyman to come and give them an honest count - counting the bananas that I've picked, so I can be paid. And sometimes, when they couldn't get money, they'll give them a drink of rum. There's a lyric in the song that says, 'Work all night on a drink of rum.' People sing and delight and dance and love it, but they don't really understand unless they study the song that they're singing a work song, a song of rebellion." -Harry Belafonte

Laurence Olivier propaganda:

"THEE actor man. You can't take theater classes and not know about this man. THEE Hamlet. Look at this lil blondie. VERY talented. (we are ignoring him also playing Othello, no he should not have done that) He was a pretty baby"

#harry belafonte #laurence olivier #i WILL keep the drag king picture in the propaganda i like it TOO much #round 3 #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old man #Youtube

217 notes · View notes

livelovecaliforniadreams · 7 months ago

Text

That's the day that Chad and I found out that the show wasn't coming back. Or the, that I'm sorry, I take it back. That the show was coming back just without us. -Hilarie

Wait, the day you were shooting your flaming Amy's flashback. Tell us everything. -Sophia

Well, we'd shot everything else. Right? -Hilarie

Wait, wait, wait. So you were doing these flashbacks, these like this deep nostalgia episode, not knowing that it was teeing up the exit. -Sophia

I was put in the blonde wig again as punishment for having red hair. Right. And I noticed a conversation with like Brooke and Victoria where it was like, are you really gonna leave the company and ruin the careers of all the people that you've been? Like such a pointed conversation for you to have to have 'cause we were all in contract negotiations at this point, except me. I had never gotten a phone call from anybody. And so they were making offers to everybody and everyone was trying to hold the line. And all they needed were a couple people to sign on in order for the show to come back. And Chad and I never even got phone calls. So we were seated in that diner booth and we're like, it's our last day of filming. We did all of the present day stuff, we did most of the flashback stuff. And all of a sudden our producer Greg Prange is like, all right, everybody like pause what you're doing, circle up. Just wanted to make the announcement. The show is coming back. We've been picked up for a seventh season. And Chad looks at me and he's like, have you even gotten an offer? And I was like, no. And he's like, I haven't gotten an offer. And so around us, everyone around us is like hugging and high fiving. I mean, it felt like balloons were dropping from the ceiling. Everybody was so fucking pumped. And he and I just kind of sat there and we knew it was coming. We had, you know, Peyton got hit by a car in the last episode. She's on her death bed, you know, and he and I were the highest paid actors on the show. And we knew we were on the chopping block. And so our bosses, Voldemort and other Dipshits were in town. And we said, can they come to set? They were at the production office and we were at Flaming Amy's. We like, can they come to set? It's only, it's two o'clock in the afternoon. Can they come here and just like explain to us what's going on? Is there something, can someone just talk to us? They refused. They would not come speak to us. And instead they took other actors out to dinner that night to celebrate. And so Chad and I wrap work and I gotta take that fucking wig off. and you know, there's a sense of betrayal 'cause you're like, huh, okay cool. We didn't hold the line and so we'll go be the expendable ones. Fuck it. And Chad and I decide for the first time ever in our time together in Wilmington, that we are gonna go out together and we are gonna tie one on. And so Chad and I ended up at the Whiskey, which was like a bar right on the corner of downtown. You know, and like metal bands played there. And Bibis, our friend would play there all the time until two o'clock in the morning. He and I are just like sweating and smoking and drinking and dancing. And Chad's a very good dancer and every college chick in the place is like, oh my God, it's Lucas and Peyton and they're really together and this is so crazy. And it was insane. And so then from two to three o'clock in the morning we sat on, on like a retaining wall downtown and just really discussed like, we're out. We've had this shit dangled over our heads. There's no one here who's fighting for us. You know, the friendships are fake. It's not real. And we're gonna go and we're just gonna do some other stuff and we'll always tell each other the truth. You know? And so he walked me home and I remember that also being kind of weird. It felt like a date. It's the one date that Chad and I went on and it was very platonic. And then I called him a cab. And even the cab driver was like, I'm picking up Lucas Scott from Peyton Sawyers house. It was crazy. But from that moment on for the whole rest of this season, it was, it was hell. It was really bad. It was really bad. 'cause it was, it was so pointed, you know, I'd been the person to do every upfront, every TCA every advertiser dinner party. I hosted the launch party for the CW I had been the company girl and it was the biggest fuck you. -Hilarie

But Chad and I had this magic night. We still laugh about it. I mean it was, it was probably the hardest I ever partied in Wilmington. And he didn't really drink, so I remember being shocked. Shocked, That he was drinking his like vodka cranberries or whatever he was drinking. We were both just so blindsided by it. Like we, we knew it was coming, but until it happens. -Hilarie

#crazy #insane stories #drama queens #super shitty what they did to hilarie and chad though #oth #othedit #othedits #one tree hill #leytonedits #leytonedit #leyton #love #lucas x peyton #peyton x lucas #lucas scott #peyton sawyer #hilarie burton #chad michael murray

86 notes · View notes

chestcongestion · 6 months ago

Text

Losing Your Grippe- Ch.4: Ha//zbin Ho/tel

This was way longer of a chapter than I was originally expecting, but I am ultimately very satisfied with how it turned out, I sincerely believe and hope it was worth the wait!

Fic is under the cut as always, I hope you guys enjoy!

Word Count: 9,275

Content Warnings: Contagion, Current events-adjacent disease testing (mentions of rapid tests and antigens and whatnot)

On the other side of Pentagram City, Angel Dust was reclining in a chair while waiting for his turn on set.

Valentino had come up with a brilliant idea for a porn where two security guards fuck a jewel thief as punishment for breaking into the museum they work for, but there had been a few setbacks during filming. The usual cinematographers were out sick, and the two burly actors playing the security guards would have been out, but there was no one their size on the employee roster left to replace them.

“Hn’KtShoo! Mm… I’m sorry, I think I’m holding the wrong script… I’m ‘Guard One’ and you’re ‘Guard Two’,” Axel, a rhinoceros demon with a spike collar neck tattoo and industrial piercings in his ears, said.

“Shiiit dude, you’re right, we’ve been memorizing the wrong scripts- HDd’TsShihh! HhdD’Tshhhuh!” Hummer, a muscular barracuda demon with translucent neck and back fins, said as he struggled to stay on his own two feet, his nose trickling down his face, in spite of constant sniffling to avoid such a fate.

“Idiots! Pull yourselves together, I don’t understand why you’re both bumbling around when we’re on a schedule… god, for nerds I recycled from Voxxy’s staff, you two are idiots,” Valentino grumbled, folding his arms in between fits of furiously slapping at his copy of the script.

“I feel hot,” Axel complained, fanning himself off with the script.

“I feel cold… H-HhDd’TSHhuhh! Hnk’Tschhuh!” Hummer said, followed by a heavy sniffle as he rubbed his upper arms in an attempt to warm his damp skin.

“Waaah waah waah, excuses excuses, I’m freezing my ass off but you don’t hear me complaining about anything but your piss poor performance!” Valentino shouted into his cupped hands, turning to cough into his fuzzy sleeve after raising his voice irritated his throat, “kHHF! KHFF!”

“Val… I-ihh…Ih’PsShuu! Ih’PSshuu!- stop shouting… my head hurts,” Velvette complained from her small platform of blankets and cushions next to Valentino’s chair. Her bedroom was being fumigated after a cleaner found two nests of hornets under the floorboards, and because she was too exhausted and feverish to be left alone, Valentino was charged with keeping an eye on her while he worked. Velvette’s hair was pinned up in a loose ponytail of dense curls, a few flyaways and stray hairs poking out of the style and sweat trickling down from her hairline as she shivered in her fleece button-up pajamas patterned with hearts and swirls.

“I’m so sorry, pequeñita…I-Ihh’PTsShhEW!- euch- I’ll try to keep it down,” Valentino replied, his voice slightly rough as he took a swig of his cosmopolitan, coughing harshly into his fist after the alcohol stung his raw throat, “Hurry it up and try agai-ihh… IiH’PTSshhhEW! Ih’PTsShhiiiew!”

Axel and Hummer got back into position and attempted to run through the scene again, Axel grimacing as his joints ached intensely every time he took a step or bent down to grab something.

“I just checked the… snff!- the perimeter a’d the… SnFFF! Snff!- the back door is ope’d… Hh’hnkk-TsSchoo!” Axel read, his nose beginning to drip until his sniffles became snorts, “SnRK-snrk!- fuck- Did you check the camberas for the back door to see if a’dyode- Snrk!-”

Before Axel could finish his line, the first line in the entire script, he was interrupted by Valentino throwing a box of tissues at the side of his head.

“Oww!”

“If I wanted a bumbling idiot who couldn’t enunciate the letters ‘m’ and ‘n’, I promise there’s meatheads way hotter than you who I could’ve paid a lot less, say your lines right, idiot!” Valentino hissed, squeaking indignantly as his antennae twitched before turning to cough into his fist.

“Mby ndose is stuffed up- SnRkk!- I ca’d barely breathe,” Axel argued, wilting a bit from exhaustion as a trickle of mess threatened to run down his face before he wiped at it with a balled-up tissue.

“Hurry up and blow your nose or I’ll punch you in that hunk of ivory in the middle of your face and unstuff it myself!”

“Val, please,” Velvette groaned, grabbing her pillow and using it to cover her head, whimpering in pain before letting out an aggressive, hacking cough, “Oh for fuck’s sake- KHFFF KOFF khff khhuff!- I need to- KHFFF kHFFF!- take some more cough syrup.”

“You’ve already had a dose three times, Velvette, you need to save the last two doses for tonight, you can’t have anymore,” Valentino said, quietly taking the bottle of raspberry-flavored cough syrup out of Velvette’s hands and stowing it away in his pocket, only for the fashion designer to start clawing at his coat in retaliation, “Ow- OW! Velvette, cut it out!”

“You’re being a prick, give it to me,” Velvette hissed, weakly throwing a punch at Val’s leg only to wilt back into her small nest of quilts, “I… I need it.”

Exhausted and covered in febrile sweat, Velvette shivered and wrapped herself in a throw blanket, glancing back up at Valentino with a pitiful look in her eyes.

“You can have some more cough syrup later, I promise… KHhf-khff!” Val promised, moving a piece of Velvette’s sweat-dampened hair out of her face, even as his own eyelids began to droop.

In the middle of watching all of the chaos during the shoot, Angel felt someone tugging on his sleeve, and turned to see Papermint- Vox’s assistant- standing sheepishly next to him while holding a small vial and a long swab.

“What’sa matter wit’ you? Whadda you want?” Angel asked, having grown slightly irritable throughout the day due to a mixture of the commotion and a slight headache that seemed to develop out of nowhere.

“Mr. Angel Dust, I need you to open your mouth,” Papermint muttered, shuffling in place in an attempt to shove down any visible nervousness.

Angel scoffed, “Oh dat’s rich, for a shrimp like you it’s 50 bucks to see my tongue, 100 for the uvula, and 200 more if ya want me to do anythin’ else while my mouth’s open.”

Papermint chuckled, adjusting his glasses with the hand that wasn’t holding the swab, “No, no- uhm… because Ms. Velvette was diagnosed with the flu yesterday, company policy dictates that all VoxTech associates undergo diagnostic testing for at least a week as a precaution,” he said, “I have to swab your tongue and the back of your throat, and you should get your results via SMS message in a few hours.”

Angel sighed, shrugging his shoulders and turning to face Papermint properly, “Alright, if it’s policy I guess I gotta do it anyways,” he said, gently massaging his temple with one hand, grimacing at the dull throbbing pain beneath his skull.

“Excellent!” Papermint cheered, gently holding the swab in front of Angel’s mouth, “Say ‘Aaah’.”

“Aaaaah,” Angel droned, his voice straining a bit as Papermint swabbed along his tongue, underneath his tongue, and at the back of his throat.

“I’m impressed, most people I’ve had to swab have gagged and choked even when I’m only swabbing further back on their tongue,” Papermint said with a warm smile, only to shudder upon realizing who he was speaking to, “Oh… ohhh.”

“There we go, glad ya figured that one out on yer own,” Angel said with a smirk, rolling his eyes and taking a sip of water from the bottle next to his chair, “How’d I do, shrimp? My throat look nice and pretty?”

Papermint chewed on his tongue, flushing slightly as Angel batted his eyelashes and winked playfully at him, “A-about as attractive as an individual’s internal cavities can look, Mr. Angel Dust!” he said.

Angel giggled, “Good answer,” he said, gently cupping Papermint’s cheek in his hand and giving it a few flirtatious taps, “Alright, now get lost, I gotta get ready for my cue if they ever get past the first two lines.”

“Y-yes, of course, thank you for your cooperation with the testing! I’ll leave a few rapid testing kits near your chair for you to take home, enjoy the rest of the shoot!” Papermint said with a wave.

Angel waved back, turning to look back at the set and wincing once the shouting and throwing of chairs aggravated his slowly-building headache, “U ugh, I’m gonna be sittin’ in this chair forever,” he groaned, tugging at his eyelids.

“It cannot be that difficult to get your lines right, we haven’t gotten past the first page of this goddamn script and it’s been two hours!” Valentino screamed, throwing his copy of the script at Axel as his eye twitched.

“Ow!” Axel whined, rubbing his head after the script made impact.

“Fuck off! Do better or I’ll… I’ll… i-Ihh… hhh! Hihh-!” Valentino began, scrubbing at the center of his face and sniffling, “Ihh-”

“HnK’TSHOOO!” Axel sneezed.

“i-IHH’PshHhue!” then Velvette.

“I-IhH’PsSHHHiIEW!” then Valentino.

A flicker of blue static appeared in the center of the studio before Vox took its place, clasping his hands together, his back panel open and an unamused look on his face.

“Alright, I have seen enough,” Vox sighed, “Shoot’s canceled, we’re done here.”

Vox turned to address the actors and crew that were still on set, “Filming is postponed until further notice, all of you are free to go home, building staff will hand you a week’s worth of rapid testing kits on your way out, but you are free to leave,” he said.

A majority of the cinematographers and audio technicians put their equipment away before hurrying out of the studio, eager to enjoy their time off.

Vox approached Valentino’s chair, gently planting a kiss on the back of his neck and pressing a cool metallic hand against his forehead, “They’re all going home, you are coming with me to get swab tested,” he said, his voice soft as he gently wiped the sweat from Valentino’s face and turned to address Velvette, “and you are going straight to bed.”

“I don’t want to go to bed,” Velvette pouted, leaning against Vox’s side after he pulled her to her feet, struggling to stand up straight, “M-my room’s still full of hornetss.”

“Not your bed, Vel, our bed,” Vox chuckled, hoisting Velvette into his arms and rubbing the hot skin on her neck and shoulder with a cool hand.

“Oh… alright then,” Velvette sighed, pressing her face against Vox’s chest as he carried her, quietly fading in and out of consciousness as Vox walked through the halls, into the elevator, and back up to their penthouse at the top of the tower.

Upon finally registering her new surroundings, Velvette yawned and whimpered in frustration when Vox peeled her away from him and set her down in his and Valentino’s shared bed, covering her shivering form with a blanket.

“Noooo- Khhf khff!- come back, don’t leave me in here,” Velvette whined, tugging on Vox’s sleeve and staring up at him with shimmering eyes.

“I’ll be right back, I promise, I’m just going into the bathroom with Val, I’ll be right out,” Vox said, gently twirling a lock of Velvette’s hair around his finger before letting go and walking a few paces into the master bathroom, where Valentino was leaning against the sink and grimacing at the swab for the rapid flu test.

“Papi, where do I stick it?” Valentino asked, pulling off his glasses and cleaning them off with a paper towel before pushing them back onto his face, “I-Ihh’PTsSChhiiew!”

“Peel the plastic off and then swab the top and sides of your tongue and the back of your throat,” Vox explained.

“How far back?”

“This is a swab test, not a blowjob, right around your tonsils is fine,”

“What the fuck are tonsils? Khhfff-KHFF!”

“The fleshy round things in the back of your throat that swell up when you get sick,”

“What are you talking about?”

Vox rolled his eyes, swiping around on his screen and pulling up his ‘Internals Close Up’ app that allowed Papermint and his technicians to get a better look at his throat using two cameras attached to the roof of his mouth, “Okay, see where the uvula is?” he asked.

Valentino squinted at the screen before nodding.

“Look behind it, see those two things poking out behind my tongue?”

“Mhm,”

“Those are my tonsils, everyone has them,”

“That’s trippy,” Valentino said, prying his mouth open wide with his fingers before swabbing his tongue and throat, moaning in satisfaction upon swabbing around his newly-discovered tonsils, “Nghgkk, Koff-khfff!”

Vox winced, “You alright?”

Valentino removed the swab, drooling a bit as he took his fingers out of his mouth, flashing a slightly loopy smile, “M mm that felt good, it’s like getting your back scratched but in your mouth,” he sighed, “I wanna do it again, my throat itches so bad.”

Vox looked down at Valentino’s crotch and rolled his eyes, “Val, for the love of God, it shouldn’t be that easy to get you hard,” he said, looking away and placing the swab inside of a tube of fluid, shaking it up before smearing the wet swab onto the testing strip.

“It’s not my fault that my dick responds whenever I feel good, Voxxy, don’t be a prude… I-Ihh’PtSchhiEW!” Valentino replied, his flirtatious tone fading after his sneeze, the feeling of the cold bathroom floor against his feet making him shiver.

Vox squinted at the testing strip, watching as the paper turned blue before quickly turning red, “Yup, positive, you’ve got the flu… how do you feel?” he asked, watching Valentino bracing himself against the water tank of the toilet.

“Uhmm… not too bad,” Val responded, cleaning off his glasses, with his sleeve, “Just a little tired… and cold… really cold.”

Vox turned on the hot water faucet of the master bathroom’s tub, switching on the shower and letting it run until steam began to fill the room, “Take a hot shower, I’ll get your pajamas,” he instructed, closing the bathroom door and walking back into the master bedroom of the penthouse, rummaging through a drawer and pulling out a pair of yellow silk pajamas covered in purple hearts, the only set of pajamas Valentino owned that covered his chest, stomach, and more than 50% of his legs.

“Did I- Khff!- get Val sick?” Velvette asked weakly, curled up in her blanket in the middle of the massive bed, “‘M sorry… I-ihh’Pshhuu!... didn’t think I was getting sick, now we’re gonna… KHff-khff-khff!- miss the summit.”

“The summit’s being pushed back, apparently everyone and their dog is sick at the moment, so there’d be no one in attendance, we’ll all be able to go when you’re feeling better,” Vox said reassuringly, pressing a hand to Velvette’s forehead, “103.”

“I feel absolutely horrid,” Velvette complained, tears in her eyes, “My head hurts, my back hurts, my throat hurts… I’d rather be on my fucking period.”

Vox winced, “You must really be miserable if that’s the case… want some medicine?” he asked.

Velvette shook her head, “Had too much already… can I have some tea? I’m thirsty,” she pleaded, her voice hoarse and cracking before she turned back towards her pillow to cough.

Vox gently motioned toward Velvette’s large metal cup, magically filling it three quarters of the way with hot liquid, and handing it over to Velvette, who eagerly took a sip.

“Nghh, it tastes different,” she croaked, “kHFff-Khff!”

“It’s peppermint, figured it might help your muscles and joints,” Vox said, stroking Velvette’s back as she coughed in between sips, “There we go, does that feel better?”

“Mhm,” Velvette replied, setting her cup down on the nightstand and curling back up into her blanket, wiping her eyes with the heel of her palm, “snff-snff! ‘S good… making my ndose run, though.”

Vox plucked two tissues out of the box on the nightstand, gently holding them up to Velvette’s face and stroking her scalp as she emptied her sinuses into them until both tissues were thoroughly soaked, “Think you’ll be alright?” he asked.

Velvette nodded weakly, rubbing her eyes again as she settled against her pillow with a scratchy yawn, “I think so,” she mumbled, “Do mby eyes look puffy?”

Vox briefly glanced at Velvette’s eyelids, noticing that they seemed normal and inflammation-free, just accompanied by slight dark circles due to Velvette’s lack of restful sleep, “Not puffy at all, you just look tired… but that’s fine, you are tired,” he said with a smile.

“So tired,” Velvette replied.

THUMP!

Vox perked up, turning to look at the bathroom door and silently fretting about the possibility of Valentino falling, “I’ll be right back Vel,” he said hurriedly, walking into the bathroom and peeking behind the shower curtain.

Unfortunately, Vox’s worst suspicions were confirmed, and Valentino was sprawled out on his back in the bathtub, being pelted with comfortably warm water against his unbearably hot and flushed skin. Unable to hoist himself back up, the pornographer simply moaned in pain, staring at his beloved partner with glassy eyes.

“Val, what happened? Did you hurt yourself?” Vox asked, tugging anxiously on the wires in his neck and ignoring the sparks that flew as a result.

“Shhh shhh, it’s fine,” Valentino said, his voice hushed and soft as he struggled to his feet with Vox’s help, his legs shaking, “Just got really dizzy all of a sudden, then out of nowhere my legs gave out… I feel a lot worse now, is that s’posed to happen?”

“Yes, it usually gets worse on an exponential curve and hits pretty fast,” Vox sighed, pressing his palm against Val’s forehead, “102…2.4… 2.6… 2.8… 103… 3.2… 3.5.”

“I feel hot,” Valentino complained hoarsely as he leaned against Vox for support, “Khh-KHFF! Khfff!”

Unable to muster up the energy to hold his hand to his mouth, Valentino’s harsh and raspy cough was released into the open air, with particles quickly hitting the sensitive wires and circuit boards that were tucked away in Vox’s back panel- which was still hanging wide open haphazardly.

Vox was so focused on looking after Valentino that he didn’t even feel the moisture brushing up against his delicate circuitry, and instead just patted Valentino on the back after he coughed, “It’s okay, once you put your pajamas on I’ll bring you a glass of water,” he said.

“Mkay,” Val replied, sniffling as he slowly struggled to pull on his pajama pants and the accompanying shirt, sighing in relief once he finally finished, before staggering over to the bed and collapsing against the comforter, curling up next to Velvette and smiling at her, “Hola pequeñita.”

“Hiii,” Velvette greeted weakly before turning away to scrub aggressively at her face in an attempt to fend off a pending itch, “I’m so sorry I got you sick… Iihh’Pshhuue! Ih’psshhuu!”

“It’s fine… I don’t blame you- snff!- I’m just exhausted,” Valentino mumbled as his eyelids began to droop.

“Me too,” Velvette agreed, rubbing her eyes.

The two struggled to entertain one another and keep the other awake by exchanging goofy faces and long stares while Vox was out of the room getting a glass of ice cold water, but eventually their efforts failed, and Velvette fell asleep with Valentino following right behind her. The two snored peacefully outside of the occasional raspy cough, and Valentino unconsciously inched closer to Velvette as the two slept, the two patients caught in a half-hug of sorts.

A few minutes later, Vox returned to the master bedroom with a glass of water, only to find his life partner and their closest friend fast asleep, their chests rising and falling.

“Well, sleeping is good, hopefully they’ll feel a little better,” Vox whispered, turning out the lights in the master bedroom and carefully draping a blanket over Valentino’s unconscious form before turning on his heels and leaving to go get some work done in his office.

On the walk to his personal workspace in the penthouse, Vox was suddenly stopped in his tracks by his frenzied assistant, who was hurriedly tapping through various screens on his touch-screen laptop, “What is it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Sir, I just got a notification from your technician, there’s been a breech,” Papermint explained, showing Vox his laptop that was littered with warning messages and system alerts.

Vox blinked, suddenly feeling the draft blowing onto his circuits and wires, “Ohhh, that’s just because my back panel is still open, I got sidetracked and forgot to close it,” he chuckled, closing the panel on his head and smiling triumphantly, “There- snff!- problem solved.”

Papermint adjusted his glasses and scrolled through the message log, only to wince and yelp upon receiving more warning messages, “Uhmmm, it seems that the problem hasn’t been solved, Sir, your system is still reporting a breech, there’s foreign body activity near your processor and your air filtration system is about to malfunction…” he said, biting his lip nervously.

“Nonsense, I probably just need my sensors adjusted, my air filtration system is fine- Hhn’Kk! Hhnkk! Kxhht!” Vox replied, only to be stunned by his sudden sneeze, a fine spray misting out of the sides of his head from his stuttering air circulation system. Vox sniffled, tapping the side of his head in an attempt to knock non-existent dust loose, “Wh-what else do the system alerts say?” he asked.

“Organic material has leaked into your system and your software is having a pseudo-immunological response,” Papermint said, rambling as he fumbled with his notification wall and smoothed out his hair.

“Layman’s terms please, Papermint, I don’t have time to decipher your jargon, I’m getting a headache,” Vox complained, massaging the corners of his screen as his interface glitched and his fans malfunctioned again, “Kxhht! KXHHT! Hhn’kk!”

“You have the flu,” Papermint said nervously.

Vox’s eye twitched, “Oh for pete’s sake… khff!- I can’t be sick, all three of us can’t be sick,” he groaned, “What am I gonna do?”

“I received some experimental immune defense spray from Sloth Pharmaceuticals the other day, and all my swab tests have come back negative, Sir, I could help look after you if need be,” Papermint offered with an eager smile.

Vox sighed, “Thank goodness for the clowns at Sloth Pharma… Hhn’Kk! KzZXHHT!” he said, wiping up the coolant that was beginning to leak from his air filter with a tissue, “Euch… snff!”

“Why don’t you put on something comfortable and join Mr. Valentino and Miss Velvette in bed?” Papermint suggested.

Vox opened his mouth to object, only to realize that he’d rather be relaxing in bed than sifting through licensing agreements, and shrugged, turning on his heels and heading back to the master bedroom, his exhaust fans stuttering and making him cough as they clashed against one another and his liquid coolant system.

Papermint smiled contentedly, dusting off his hands and heading over to the penthouse’s small laundry room to hunt for the warm mist humidifier and a can of pressurized air to clean out Vox’s air filters. “This will be nice,” he mumbled enthusiastically to himself, beginning to sort through various devices in search of what he needed.

About forty-five minutes later, back at the hotel, Angel sauntered in through the front doors and walked over to the parlor-turned-quarantine space, leaning over the arm of the sofa to massage the space between Husk’s ears, “I’m back from the fuck factory,” he greeted, kissing Husk’s cheek.

“You’re back early- Khfff khff! KHFF khff!- fuck,” Husk observed, rubbing his neck and chest and grumbling in pain after his harsh, throaty cough.

“Eh, Val’s sick so I’ve got the week off, fine by me, I was supposed to do a two-on-one in a contortion pose for ‘dis stupid flick, I’m happy I get to put it off long enough for Val to hopefully forget about it,” Angel said, sighing as he handed Husk his glass of water from the coffee table, rubbing his back as he took eager gulps before setting the empty glass down.

“Happy for you, I can’t even touch my toes, couldn’t imagine takin’ it up the ass with my legs behind my head,” Husk said, chuckling until a wave of dizziness overwhelmed him and he reclined against his pillows, covering his eyes with his palms as he tried to compose himself, “Sorry… room started spinning.”

Angel inched closer to Husk’s level of the makeshift sofa-bed, kneeling down and resting a cautious hand on Husk’s forehead, “Marone, your brain’s gonna melt and start leakin’ outta your ears,” he said, frowning in disapproval before kissing Husk’s cheek, “How ya feelin’?”

Husk swallowed, adjusting under his blanket and scrubbing under his nose to stave off a damp sniffle, “Like death,” he grumbled, losing the fight against a violent shiver that radiated up his spine, “I’m so cold.”

Angel leaned over, wrapping Husk in a tight hug and nuzzling up against the crook of his neck and his shoulder, “My poor baby,” he crooned, kissing Husk’s neck, “This make ya feel any warmer?”

Husk’s body was wracked by another violent shiver, and he continued to tremble before shaking his head as his vision began to blur and warp, forcing him to brace himself against the arm of the sofa, “Fuck… I can’t see straight… ‘m gonna lie down again,” he said, gently pushing away from Angel and curling back up into his blankets, his sharp teeth chattering, “Khhhhfff- khff khff!”

Angel pinched the center of his face, gently massaging the skin as pain continued to build behind his eyes, “Goddamnit,” he groaned, hoisting himself to his feet and rummaging through the cleavage separating his chest fluff before pulling out his phone, scrolling through his text messages, “My head’s killin’ me.”

“E-ehh’PssSCHEW! Eh’PsSCHHEW!”

Angel turned, seeing Lucifer reclined on the loveseat, noisily blowing his ‘nose’ after his wet sneeze, “You too, huh?” he asked, smirking at Lucifer’s fuzzy socks peeking out from the other end of the blanket.

“Mm- SnFF!- mmhmm,” Lucifer replied, rubbing at his eyes before tossing his soggy tissue in the trash can next to the loveseat, “I feel awful.”

“Well, I’m gonna go talk to Vags before I hop in the shower, need anythin’?”

Lucifer released another pitiful sniffle, “Another glass of apple juice?” he requested, taking another swipe at his tired eyes.

“You got it,” Angel said, shooting Lucifer a thumbs up before walking out of the parlor and into the kitchen, where Vaggie was chopping vegetables and humming to herself while Niffty- visibly bored- peeled shrimp while sitting on the kitchen island, separating the viable meat and the veins and shells into two separate bowls.

“You’re back early,” Vaggie remarked, not even looking up from the carrot she was slicing.

“Yup, shoot got canceled before I even had to read any lines,” Angel said with a snicker, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of apple juice, pouring it into a glass with a couple of ice cubes. Upon filling up Lucifer’s cup, Angel gently shook the bottle of apple juice, looking skeptical, “I coulda sworn this bottle was full this mornin’.”

“Lucifer and Charlie both basically refuse to eat, so they’ve been chugging it, I’ll have to get more bottles delivered when I order groceries tonight,” Vaggie replied, “Have you seen Alastor?”

“Nah, ain’t seen hear or tail of ‘im,” Angel said with a shrug, “Gotta go bring King Pipsqueak his juice, I’ll be back.”

Vaggie waved at Angel as he vanished back into the parlor, when she began to hear the hissing sound of static in her ears, turning around and focusing to try and decipher where the sound was coming from.

“Hzzhht! Hxhht! HxXhht!”

Vaggie narrowed her eyelids, waiting patiently and counting in her head as the noise continued, until suddenly it changed.

“HxXHhht-Shhiew! Hnk’Kzxhht-Chew! HnXxhhT’Shhew! ‘Shhhiew! ‘SHHIEW! ‘Chhiew!”

A-ha!

“Alastor, get out of the pantry, I know you’re in there,” Vaggie ordered, watching with a smirk as Alastor slowly stepped out of the walk-in pantry, clutching his handkerchief to his nose and attempting to wipe at his watery eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

“Snff-snff! You kndow- snff!- I would have cobe out eventually- Hnx’xXHt-CHEW! HnxXHhtiew! ‘Chhiew! ‘Shhew!” Alastor said, blowing his nose and fanning off the red, irritated skin with his free hand.

Vaggie rolled her eyes, only for her exasperation to screech to a halt upon hearing Alastor’s audible congestion and constant sneezing, “You okay?” she asked.

Alastor roughly cleared his throat, wiping desperately at his nose in an attempt to stop the near constant dripping, “Sindce I ndo longer have the privilege of bei’g discreet with mby… issues, I’b goi’g to be hondest- Snrkk!- a’d say ndo,” he said, his eyes twitching as he felt another sneeze building in his sinuses, “hHihh! H-hihh!! Hhh! HnkXxh’tSHEW! HxXhht-Shew! Hnk’Kxhht-chew!”

“A shocking but pleasant surprise… I’m not proud of you for being vulnerable, I just like watching you suffer,” Vaggie scoffed, smirking at Alastor and feeling a swell of pride when he opened his mouth to snarl at her, only to sneeze instead.

“Uch… I’ve been milli’g about with plague urchins for far too long, and their opportunistic pathogens have got mbe right where they want mbe,” Alastor grumbled, “Hih’KxXHHT-cHHIEW! Hih’Kxhhttiew! Hnk’KxzZHt-Shew!”

Niffty giggled, climbing onto Alastor’s shoulder and poking his nose.

“Hh’Xxhht-Chiew! HxXhht-shew! Hhnk’Kxhht-schiew! ‘sCHHiew! ‘Sheww!” Alastor sneezed, his eyes streaming with tears and his nose running hopelessly as he swatted Niffty away, still holding his handkerchief up to his nose.

“I’m not going to help you if you’re gonna be coy to avoid being embarrassed, say what you mean or you can put a clothespin on your nose and help me with dinner,” Vaggie said, unamused.

Alastor flushed, turning away and mumbling something through clenched teeth.

“Huh?”

Alastor mumbled a bit louder, but ultimately still unintelligible, especially with his handkerchief clasped over his nose and mouth.

Vaggie placed both hands on her hips, “Alastor, just say it,” she ordered.

Alastor huffed, balling his free hand into a fist before rolling his eyes and letting the confession spill out, “I thig’k I have the flu!” he exclaimed, sniffling as he swiped at his nostrils with his damp handkerchief, “Happy ndow? H-Hhnk’Kxhht-chew! Hnk’Xxht-shiew!”

“Not really, it means I’m down a helper,” Vaggie sighed, “Go sit in the parlor on the other loveseat, I’ll be in there after I wash my hands to take your temperature.”

Alastor gave a weak nod, wandering out of the kitchen and into the parlor, still sneezing.

Upon Alastor leaving the kitchen, Angel returned, having showered and changed relatively quickly, “Well, looks like ya’ found mista’ happy face,” he said, pouring himself a glass of water and hurriedly chugging it before wiping off his mouth, “What’s up wit’ him?”

“He thinks he’s getting sick,” Vaggie groaned, “It’s gonna be me, you, and Niffty looking after things, I guess.”

“Guess so,” Angel replied, only to pause, pulling out his phone and scrolling through his messages, “Damnit, what’s takin’ them so long? At this point I oughtta just take one a’ the rapid tests they gave me.”

“What are you talking about?” Vaggie asked, washing her hands in the sink before wiping them off with a dish towel.

“Bunch of people at my job are gettin’ sick, so they tested all of us, and we’re supposed ta’ get the results soon, but they sent us home with a bag of ‘rapid tests’ that take like a minute,” Angel explained, gagging quietly, “I didn’t mind swabbin’ the back of my throat, but that stupid stick tastes awful runnin’ across your tongue.”

Vaggie’s face brightened, and she grabbed Angel’s wrist, “Well, buck up and get ready for the taste, because the four of us are gonna take one,” she said, leading Angel out of the kitchen by tugging on his arm, “C’mon Niffty.”

Niffty scrambled to get down from the kitchen island, skipping after Vaggie and Angel only to run back into the kitchen, hurriedly clean the shellfish scent off of her hands, and sprint to return to the parlor, eagerly sitting on the floor between Alastor’s legs.

Angel pulled out four rapid tests from the plastic bag of them he’d been given upon leaving the broadcast tower, handing one to Vaggie, one to Alastor, and one to Niffty before keeping the last one in his hands.

Husk and Charlie were both fast asleep, curled up against the base of the sofa from their respective levels of the makeshift trundle bed. Lucifer, on the other hand, was somewhat awake, and watched the four “healthy” hotel residents unwrap their tests in between small sips of his apple juice.

Angel opened his mouth, scrubbing the surface of his tongue, the underside of his tongue, and the back of his throat, swirling the swab in a circle on the surface of his tonsils, nearly drooling with satisfaction as the sensation of the swab on his throat appeared to be scratching an itch he wasn’t even aware of, “Ngghhkkkk… nghh-ghhkk,” he droned, pulling the swab out of his mouth and struggling to keep a stray hand from gravitating toward his groin, “Hrghht-hrmm! That felt good…I kinda wanna do it again.”

Alastor rolled his eyes, “Shambeless pervert- snff!- Hnk’Kxhht-Sshiew! ‘Shhiew! ‘Shhhew!” he grumbled, reluctantly putting his swab in his mouth and gagging with disgust upon swiping around his tongue and gagging a bit harder while reaching the back of his throat, quickly pulling the swab out once he’d been scrubbing for the instructed amount of time, “Euch… that was disgustii’g- Iihh…. HnKxXHt-SHEW!”

Niffty quietly scrubbed her tongue and throat with her mouth closed around the swab, humming ‘Lollipop’ to herself as she worked the swab from side to side and up and down, pulling the swab out of her mouth and giggling after it made the same ‘Pop!’ sound that can be heard after the first segment of the song, “All done!” she cheered.

Vaggie grumbled, nearly gagging prematurely upon watching the others complete their swabs, “Si vomito, mataré a alguien,” she grumbled, popping her swab into her mouth and hurriedly scrubbing the surface and underside of her tongue before gently inching closer to the back of her throat, sighing with relief when the sensation wasn’t nearly as gag-inducing as she expected, pulling the swab out with a triumphant smile.

“Okay, now ya hafta put the swab in this tube and shake it around… and then rub the wet swab on the piece ‘a paper in the testing kit,” Angel explained, squinting through his bothersome headache to read the tiny print on the back of the testing kit’s packaging.

All four participants shook their tubes of testing solution before smearing the sample across the rapid testing paper.

Vaggie watched as the wet portion of her paper turned blue, “Negative,” she said with a smile, “Phew.”

“Negative!” Niffty cheered, waving around her blue testing paper.

Angel blinked, watching as his testing paper turned blue for a moment, only to quickly turn red, “Positive,” he sighed, massaging his temples with one pair of hands, “Explains why my head’s fuckin’ killin’ me.”

Alastor waited patiently as his testing paper turned blue, and remained blue for a brief period, only to change colors, “It’s…greend- HnkXxhht’SHEW!” he said, cleaning off his monocle with his sleeve before staring at the testing paper, confused.

Angel looked at the back of the testing kit, “Green is negative for… antigens… but positive for… antibodies, the fuck does that mean? Christ on a bike I barely passed goin’ to Catholic school in the 20s, I can’t read ‘dis shit,” he grumbled, pulling out his phone and plugging the words into a search engine, “Oh for Christ’s sake- I got nothin’ on ‘antibodies’, but it says that testin’ negative for antigens means ya ain’t sick… I gotta keep scrollin’.”

Alastor looked puzzled, staring back at his confusing testing paper before sniffling hopelessly into his handkerchief, “The accursed thi’g has to be faulty- HnkXxhht-sCHHIEW! Hnk’Kxhht-shew!- if I was fide I wouldn’t be put through the id- Snrkk!- indig’ndity of all this sdeezi’g… HnK’Xhht-SHIEW!” he said.

Vaggie walked over to the loveseat where Alastor was sitting, pressing a hand to his forehead and waiting for a moment with narrowed eyelids before pulling it away, “I think it’s right… you feel fine to me, nice and cool,” she said with a smirk, “You’re just being a hypochondriac.”

“Stop usin’ them big words, I don’t wanna have to look up anythin’ else, this is makin’ my brain hurt!” Angel complained, still scrolling through his phone.

“You’ve been so worried about getting sick that your brain is doing everything it can to convince you that you’re sick,” Vaggie explained, poking Alastor’s red and irritated nose.

“HnK’Tshhew! Hnk’Kxzxht-chiew! Hnk’KXxshIEW!” Alastor sneezed, wiping his nose with his handkerchief and letting loose a watery sniffle, “Euch…the’d why does mby ndose still feel so Iiihh…i-ihh…. Itchy?”

Vaggie stared at Alastor’s runny nose and his watery eyes with puffy, visibly irritated eyelids, before directing her attention to Alastor’s handkerchief, noticing that his breath began to hitch and his eyes watered more when he held it closer to his twitchy nostrils, “Hand me your handkerchief,” she instructed.

“What? Ndo- snff!” Alastor argued.

Vaggie rolled her eyes, yanking the cloth out of Alastor’s hands, and watching as the Radio Demon’s twitchy, sensitive nose seemingly calmed down, his watery eyes drying up, and his breathing returning to normal after a few damp sniffles.

Alastor sighed in relief, wiping the moisture out of his eyes and fanning at his friction-reddened nose, “Oh my goodness,” he said in between panting breaths, leaning his head back against the back of the loveseat.

“That feel better?” Vaggie asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Very much, yes,” Alastor said with a relieved smile.

“So it was just your allergies, mystery solved,” Vaggie said, folding her arms, “Wonder what was on this thing that was making you sneeze so much.”

Vaggie held up the handkerchief so that it was closer to her face, sniffing the air around it and sticking out her tongue in disgust when a heavy scent wafted into her nostrils, “Euchh, this thing reeks of cologne, no wonder you were sneezing so much,” she said, tossing the practically wet handkerchief into a garbage can in the far corner of the room.

Alastor’s eyes widened, and he turned to stare at Lucifer with an unamused glare lingering in his eyes in spite of his tight smile, “It appears that your sweat practically burned the stench of your repulsive cologne into my clothes after I carried you,” he said through clenched teeth, “I was able to wash the stench out of my coat, but I didn’t think to wash my handkerchief that had been tucked into one of the pockets.”

Lucifer scoffed, “My cologne smells fine, not my fault you’re allergic to it,” he said, blowing a drowsy raspberry in Alastor’s direction.

“I wouldn’t put in so much effort to aggravate me when you’re so… fragile,” Alastor said, practically snarling as he flicked the center of Lucifer’s forehead.

“Oh please- Khff khff!- I can still unravel your skin at the seams,”

“I’d like to see you try, ‘Your Majesty’, your tiny little skull would be meeting the blunt metal edge of my microphone,”

“D’aww, I appreciate the flirting, but you’re not my type… I could still give you a big, wet, germy kiss for your trouble if you want,”

Alastor hit Lucifer over the head with his microphone, clutching the fabric on the chest of his shirt and shuddering with disgust, “You go too far,” he chided, avoiding Lucifer’s gaze by staring at the carpet.

“Not far enough, get back over here so I can stick my tongue down your throat- Khff- KHFF!,” Lucifer teased, sticking out his tongue and tugging on Alastor’s long sleeve, giggling deliriously.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Vaggie said, pulling Alastor away from Lucifer and pushing Lucifer back into a reclined position in his makeshift bed, “Alastor, leave Lucifer alone- Lucifer, keep your tongue to yourself.”

Lucifer folded his arms, pouting, “Fiine,” he said, plucking two tissues out of the box in his lap and blowing his ‘nose’, tossing the soiled tissues into the trash.

“Overpowered garden gnome,” Alastor grumbled.

“Pretentious loser,” Lucifer spat back.

“Self-pitying recluse,”

“Bitter self-absorbed misanthrope,”

“A bit hypocritical coming from you, you insecure man baby,”

“At least I can admit when I’m a hypocrite, you delusional megalomaniac,”

Angel’s head swam as his brain tried to piece through the article on antibodies he was reading, the onslaught of syllables the two men were flinging at one another, and his own throbbing headache and sore throat, “I have no idea what the hell’s goin’ on,” he whined, clutching his sore abdominal muscles as sweat trickled down his face, soaking into his thin layer of fur.

“Lay-about!”

“Piss worm!”

“Callate!” Vaggie shouted, pulling on the back of Alastor’s shirt and swatting at him before sticking a thermometer from her pocket into Lucifer’s mouth to quiet him down, “Both of you cut it out.”

Alastor and Lucifer’s shouting roused Charlie from her slumber, the princess rolling over and sitting up with a scratchy yawn as she rubbed her eyes, looking around the room, “Mmm… wha’s happening?” she mumbled, trying to shake off the grogginess that weighed down every word that left her mouth.

“Nice going, jackasses,” Vaggie huffed, turning to stroke Charlie’s feverish cheek with her left hand before kissing her forehead, “Nothing babe, don’t worry about it.”

“Oh… okay, okay, I trust you- Snff snff!- I need a tissue,” Charlie rambled, blowing her nose into a folded-over tissue before settling back into her blankets with a shiver, “What time is it?”

“Honestly I don’t even know, Angel, what time is it?” Vaggie asked, looking over her shoulder towards the spider.

Angel groaned, massaging the center of his face before glancing at the time on his phone in the corner of the screen, squinting at the tiny print making his headache even worse, “6:15,” he said, going back to reading.

“There you go… it’s earlier than I thought it was,” Vaggie said with a slight smile, running her fingers through Charlie’s hair, “You okay?”

“Not really, but I’ll manage… H-kHHF! KHFFF!...(gasp)- KHFF KhFF KKHhFF!,” Charlie replied, rubbing her chest after her harsh cough and looking around the parlor, focusing on the swaying image of Lucifer, shooting him a drowsy wave, “I didn’t know my dad made it back home… Hi, Dad!”

Lucifer waved back at Charlie, humming inquisitively at Vaggie and gesturing to the thermometer under his tongue- which had started to beep.

Vaggie rolled her eyes, pulling the thermometer out of Lucifer’s mouth and glancing at the screen, “103.4,” she said, wiping off the thermometer with an alcohol wipe before stowing it back in her pocket.

“Aw, you too, Dad?” Charlie asked, leaning over the arm of the sofa and resting her chin in one hand, “Sorry I got you sick… Eeihh’KsSchiew! Eh’KsSchiew!”

“No worries, Charlie, I picked this up the old fashioned way…snff! Last time I take the bus anywhere,” Lucifer groaned, swiping at his ‘nose’ with the back of his hand.

“Wait, if both of us are sick, that means neither of us are gonna be able to go to the summit!” Charlie exclaimed, tears welling up in her eyes, only for Alastor to place a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“No need to worry, the overlord summit has been postponed on account of the majority of its attendees being… indisposed at present,” Alastor said with a calm smile.

“Wha?” Charlie asked, looking up at Alastor with a confused look on her face.

“If I hear anotha’ word wit’ more than two syllables that nobody knows the meanin’ of, I’m gonna pass out,” Angel snapped, turning away from his phone to cough, tucking his head into his elbow and swallowing against the ache in his throat before going back to reading.

“Everyone’s sick, so they’re putting the summit off until later, Babe,” Vaggie explained.

“Oh no, that’s terrible- Eeh’Ktschhew!- sorry… wonder how everyone managed to come down with it so fast… so close together,” Charlie pondered, pulling her blankets up to her chest.

“Ahhha!- Koff KHFF KHFF! KHHHFFF!- fuck!” Angel shouted, tossing his phone aside and massaging his face, “Finally figured out what the fuck the antibody shit means!”

Vaggie gestured for Angel to continue.

“It said on this stupid website… ‘A green test result means that there is no active infection, but that the body has built up a resistance to the pathogen after a past infection, typically a recent one’,” Angel said, leaning back against the loveseat and draping an arm over his eyes.

“So that means that you aren’t sick now, and you’re immune because you were sick recently,” Vaggie said, turning to look at Alastor with an unamused glare, “Before anyone else.”

Alastor held up both hands defensively, “I have no recollection of being anywhere near this ill, that’s absurd,” he argued.

“Not even a week ago, when I heard you down here trying your damnedest not to cough while you made your coffee before you disappeared for four days?” Vaggie asked, tilting her head to the side as she awaited Alastor’s response.

“I-I felt perfectly fine, I only had a bit of a cold, and I do not appreciate this accusatory tone,” Alastor replied with a huff, polishing his monocle with a microfiber cloth he pulled from his pocket.

“Alright, what did you do that day after you left, if you don’t mind me asking?” Vaggie asked, leaning over the back of the sofa and stroking Charlie’s hair as she waited.

“I… I had to go to a sovereign overlords meeting… and then I had to visit the seamstress where Rosie had her dress made in order to pick up the extra fabric for my ensemble, a charming young succubus, I wish I could remember her name,” Alastor began to ramble, nervous sweat coating his forehead as he fiddled with the base of his microphone and averted his eyes.

Charlie sniffled, narrowing her eyelids, “Did she have purple hair and a star shaped tail?” she asked.

“As a matter of fact, yes, she did, how did you know?” Alastor replied with a chuckle, only for Charlie to snarl angrily, balling her fists before throwing her pillow at his head, “Ouch! My dear, there’s no need for senseless aggression- Ouch! Hey!”

Charlie hissed and threw another pillow, “You,” she growled, “You started all of this because you’re too stubborn and stupid to admit- let alone tell someone- when you’re sick- Snff snff!- so you just wandered around town getting germs everywhere. All. Day!”

“I- I reject the notion, you have no proof!” Alastor exclaimed, feigning a hurt expression as he pressed a hand to his chest.

“Bullshit, breathin’ is enough to spread it around, not even mentionin’ the kinda trail you leave behind when you’re constantly blowin’ your nose wit’out washin’ ya’ hands… you filthy fuckin’ germ-spreader,” Angel said, folding his arms and furrowing his eyebrows in anger.

“Yeah! Exactly- Eeihh’KsSCHIEW!- Oh shoot- KhHhFF khff khff! KOFF- Khhff- khHff!,” Charlie said, rubbing her chest in an attempt to calm her ragged breathing after her coughing fit.

“This kind of aggression and hostility is quite unlike you, Charlie, I must say I’m surprised,” Alastor remarked, quickly ducking as Charlie threw another pillow at him, “The projectiles are also unlike you.”

“Oh ffuck you!” Charlie hissed, her horns peeking out through her crown of blonde locks, the same angry red as her nose, “I’m tired, I’m cold, my whole body hurts and I can barely get up to go pee, and you act so grossed out and high and mighty about ‘germs’, I’m allowed to be mad when they’re your germs to begin with! I’m allowed to be angry sometimes! KHFFF-KHff-Khfff!”

Vaggie gently tapped Charlie’s back, carefully making sure not to rouse Husk from his sleep as she leaned over the arm of the sofa to embrace her girlfriend, “Of course you are, Babe, but try not to get too worked up,” she whispered, kissing Charlie’s feverish neck and smiling when Charlie melted into her touch, “There we go, it’s okay.”

“Nice going, Antlers,” Lucifer scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Oh hush, you have nothing to do with any of this,” Alastor said, waving Lucifer off nonchalantly.

“Hey, listen Tough Guy-” Lucifer began, sitting up and beginning to gesticulate, only for Vaggie to pull away from Charlie and walk over to Lucifer, pressing her cool hand against his burning forehead and silencing him as he sighed in relief, “Mmm… that feels n ice.”

“I bet it does, and if you promise to stop picking fights with Alastor I’ll go get a cool washcloth for you,” Vaggie said with a knowing smile, noticing the eager and desperate look in Lucifer’s eyes, “Promise?”

Lucifer nodded weakly, “Mkay, I promise,” he said, lying back down and staring at his socks, chuckling to himself as his feverish mind wandered, turning the solid blue fabric into a makeshift sky, clouds drifting across the fabric.

Vaggie sighed, turning to Alastor and gesturing at him, “Well?” she asked, unimpressed and exasperated with the nonsensical back-and-forth.

“I… I apologize for unknowingly causing all of this… and for being a bit-” Alastor nearly gagged on the platitudes forming on his tongue, “- impersonal and detached in my methods of engaging with the afflicted, particularly in this instance since your ailments were my fault to begin with, and… I will find some way to make it up to you,” he said with a pained smile, one eye twitching behind his monocle.

“Awww- Snff!- that was beautiful,” Charlie said, her voice cracking as she threatened to cry, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve before blowing her nose, “I forgive you… I wasn’t even that mad, I just really don’t feel well and it’s making me cranky.”

“Perfectly understandable, my dear,” Alastor replied, fighting back a shudder and reaching out to stroke Charlie’s scalp, “Nowhere to go from here but up.”

Charlie nodded, coughing harshly into her elbow before weakly gesturing to her three pillows that were scattered at Alastor’s feet, “Can I have my pillows back?” she asked, pitifully attempting to lean over and reach out to grab them.

“Of course,” Alastor said, tucking two of Charlie’s pillows behind her to support her back and neck, and placing the third pillow near Charlie’s feet, “Better?”

“Mmhm… Ehh…E-ehh… EhH’KSschew! Eihh’KtsSChiew! Eehh’KSschheww!” Charlie hummed in reply, emptying her sinuses with a desperate blow before tossing the damp tissue in the garbage, “O h hhh… my sinuses hurt.”

“I’ll get you some decongestant after dinner,” Vaggie promised, massaging Charlie’s sinuses with her fingertips. As she massaged Charlie, Vaggie looked over and noticed Angel curled up in a half-formed fetal position, shivering, “Are you gonna be okay?” she asked.

Angel made an indecisive gesture with his hand, wiping sweat from his brow and grimacing as an ache radiated through the muscles in his abdomen, legs, and back, “I ain’t feelin’ too hot… Hh-KHFF! KHFF!- ‘s like I got hit by a truck,” he mumbled, voice slightly hoarse from his sore throat as a hand reached up and rubbed the base of his neck.

Vaggie thumbed Charlie’s cheek for a moment, before walking over to the loveseat opposite Lucifer’s, maneuvering Angel into an upright position and pressing a palm to his forehead, “You feel plenty hot to me,” she chuckled, pulling the thermometer out of her pocket.

“Ya know what I meant,” Angel huffed, rolling his eyes.

“Mhm, I did, open your mouth,” Vaggie instructed, sliding the thermometer under Angel’s tongue and waiting until it beeped before pulling it out, “102…2.4…2.7.”

“Shit,” Angel said with a groan, lying back down only for Vaggie to tug him back upright.

“Ah-ah-ah! Sit up, I’ll be right back with your pajamas, you can lie down after you’ve changed,” Vaggie said, “Where do you keep them?”

“They’re lyin’ across my bed- Snff! Snff!,” Angel replied, his eyelids threatening to droop as a deep flush covered his cheeks, burning bright enough that it was visible through his fur.

“Alright, I’ll be right back, Niffty make sure he doesn’t lie down until I come back,” Vaggie said, turning on her heels and disappearing up the stairs.

Niffty giggled, standing on the back of the loveseat and gently combing Angel’s frayed hair with her tiny fingers, “You’re so sweaty I can use it like moisturizer,” she said.

“Khhff-khff! Quit rubbin’ sweat into my hair, Niff… Snff!” Angel said, weakly swatting at Niffty only to relent, enjoying the feeling of her tiny hands massaging his scalp, the sensation practically relieved his throbbing headache, “Mmm…”

Vaggie returned to the parlor with a silk pajama top adorned with pink lace, a pair of fleece pajama pants with button-up pockets, and a pair of large pink socks, tossing them in Angel’s lap and dusting off her hands, “You need help getting to the bathroom to go change?” she asked.

Angel shook his head, “I got it, I got it,” he insisted, putting on the pajamas and socks, before squirming a bit and adjusting two of his arms, suddenly pulling out his shirt, jacket, pants, and boots from the waistband of his pajama pants, “All’a them years doin’ quick changes finally paid off… hHh! Hahh! Hah’TsShhew! Hah’TsSsHEW!”

Vaggie folded Angel’s street clothes and placed them in a laundry basket behind the sofa before handing Angel a pink fleece blanket adorned with zebra stripes and a box of tissues.

“Thanks, Vags… Snfff! Euch,” Angel said, plucking a tissue out of the box and gently pressing it to his face before emptying his sinuses in a heavy blow that sounded closer to a honk at the tail end.

“Okay, now that everything is all settled, you four are going to stay here and rest,” Vaggie said before turning to Alastor and Niffty, “and you two are going to help me finish dinner.”

“Of course, lead the way,” Alastor said calmly, resting his microphone in his palm and shifting his weight onto his other foot before following Vaggie into the kitchen.

“Okey-dokey!” Niffty cheered, skipping behind Alastor and Vaggie, only to scurry back into the parlor and land an open-hand slap on Husk’s chest, rousing him from his deep slumber, before scrambling back into the kitchen, giggling uncontrollably.

Husk snorted, rapidly shaking his head and rubbing his eyes as his ears twitched, “Hhm? KHFF-KHFFF! Fuck… my chest hurts,” Husk grumbled sleepily, opening his eyelids after a moment of struggle and looking around the room, “Mmm… what time ‘s it? Did I miss somethin’?”

“Nothin’ important,” Angel yawned, pulling his blanket up to his chest and blowing his ‘nose’, “H-hahh…Hah’TsShew!”

“Bless you,” Husk said, still a bit drowsy. About seven seconds passed, before Husk’s eyes widened and he whipped his head around in Angel’s direction, “Wait a minute, when the hell did you get here?!”

Angel snickered, weakly kicking his feet as his snickers devolved into full blown laughter, laughter so intense that Angel began rolling gently from side to side, only to roll off of the loveseat and collapse onto the carpet.

Husk rolled his eyes, “Real funny, huh Legs?” he asked, glancing over at Angel again with an unamused scoff.

“Damn right it was funny, it was worth it,” Angel said in between guffaws and coughs, only to groan in pain as the sore muscles in his back throbbed after the initial impact, “Not completely worth it… but it was still funny.”

Husk sighed, using the television remote cradled in his lap to turn on the TV, before rolling back over to face the base of the sofa, and falling back asleep, his soft but deep snoring filling the room as his ears and tail twitched, the rest of his body completely still and quiet.

“HrRR’SshOO! HrR’Schuhh!”

Well, mostly quiet.

#ha/zb/in ho/tel #snz #snz kink #snz fic #illness kink #gingey.rtf

66 notes · View notes

littlemissthunderstorms · 1 year ago

Text

just some lover

alex turner x reader

angst!

concept- photographing ex boyfriend alex’s show (i’ve convinced myself this is the worst thing i’ve ever written. just so you know i have self awareness.)

———

the crowd roared and cheered as the boys walked on and grabbed their instruments, getting ready for the first song. stage lights glittered and shimmered all across the set, the stage basked in a medley of purples and blues. you stood on the opposite side of the backstage area with your camera, a few other people around you.

your eyes followed the boy as he adjusted the mic. your heart dropped a bit when you saw him, the ache growing as he started to sing. you hadn’t heard his voice in a while, the sick nostalgia of it all making you start to regret your choice.

when you took the job offer you were hesitant, knowing arctic monkeys were in the lineup, but it paid good, so you took it. all you had to do was get good shots of the band, it shouldn’t be that hard, right?

this was the first time you’d seen alex since you two had broken up 4 months ago. sickly sweet longing melted and twisted at your heart, causing your hands to slick with a cold sweat as you held your camera.

memories of him singing to you softly when you were sick, or whenever you’d had a rough night started seeping through the cracks of your mind, memories that you’d hoped to forget starting to re-enter like a film reel. you cleared your throat, raising your camera and taking a few cool shots of the band, trying your very best to distract yourself. you were here for work, to simply take photos of the concert and that was it. nothing else. so stay focused.

for the most part you were pretty good at not allowing yourself to think, but you couldn’t ignore the way nausea twisted at your stomach. you didn’t realize how sentimental this would all feel. in different circumstances you would be backstage for different reasons. not just the photographer. in different circumstances you’d be teasing him about his sweaty hugs when the show was over, staining his cheek in your black honey lipstick. in reality, he didn’t even know you were here.

surely he’d moved on, probably had plans with some other girl after the show. your heart sunk at the thought, realizing you weren’t apart of his life anymore, and how quickly it happened. it just felt off being here like this, like an actor walking onto the wrong set. you caught yourself thinking too much again, bottling up the nauseating thoughts the best you possibly could.

your co workers next to you soon struck up a conversation with you, laughing and pointing at people in the crowd with funny signs. you were deeply grateful for the distraction.

throughout the show, you were mostly focused on getting good shots and conversing with your photographer friends. you assumed the nostalgia and heartbreak you’d endured moments prior was just the usual sinking feeling of seeing your ex for the first time since breaking up and that the immense feelings had simmered down. so, you didn’t think about it for a while, pretending alex was just some rockstar you never even knew.

———

the sun was fully set now, yet it was still sweltering. you were now in your tanktop, sipping cool water and holding it up to your forehead and cheeks. you noticed everyone in the band was now drenched in sweat, their cheeks flushed in the stage lighting.

a crew member came up to you, asking you and another photographer if you could get some shots from right in front of the stage, meaning you would have to go right in front of the pit barrier. meaning there was a high chance alex would see you. nevertheless, you agreed, you weren’t going to let this interfere with your work.

once you were down there, your initial worries of him seeing you simmered a bit. alex’s eyes were shut for the most part, opening only for mere seconds just to close again, getting lost in the melody. and probably a bit of heat exhaustion. you hid your face behind your camera, snapping a shot of jamie on his guitar.

the atmosphere was buzzing in the pit, people were climbing on other peoples shoulders, holding up signs, and dancing together. it was adorable, it helped to take the edge off a bit. yet you couldn’t quite get rid of the sinking feeling that kept lingering.

———

everything was going fairly okay until the intro chords of a certain, very familiar song started to reverberate through the venue. she’s thunderstorms. your heart dropped. you cleared your throat and put a vice grip on your camera.

alex had written this song for you about 11 months prior. you remembered him playing it to you for the first time on his acoustic, the way he shyly mumbled “s’ not done yet, but it’s about you.” you remembered how he fell back onto the couch as you kissed him, telling him it was the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for you.

you remembered when it came out, how alex had teasingly called you ‘thunderstorms’ a month after. your lip quivered, heart shaky as you held back tears. you took a deep breath, trying to redirect your thoughts as you took a few more shots of the band.

“she’s thunderstorms, lying on her front, up against the wall.”

the tune twisted at your stomach, your shaky hands making most of your shots come out unfocused and blurry. you tried to convince yourself you were just being dramatic to soothe your feelings, it didn’t work much.

as your teary gaze flickered to alex, you couldn’t help but notice the way his face contorted into sadness. what seemed like a tear, that could easily be perceived as a drop of sweat trickled down his cheek. was he really crying? he couldn’t be. but you knew him well. you noticed how he quickly concealed his emotions, running a hand through his damp hair.

your heart sunk. you’d thought all along that alex had moved on quickly. was he actually crying? if he was, it must’ve been a hell of a coincidence that it was during this song. you knew alex had moved on quickly when breaking up with girls in the past. you thought he would have the same habits with you. you were usually the same, sad for a bit but then moving on in a couple of weeks, wondering why you were ever sad in the first place.

but not with alex. when you broke up with him, you were a mess. it was a hard decision, and it was mutual but it tore you apart. four months later and you still couldn’t get rid of the pit of regret that sat in your stomach when you woke up in the morning and he wasn’t there. it didn’t feel right this time.

you two had broken up because your schedules weren’t working. you barely saw him, for he was traveling with the band and writing for the new album. you’d been busy yourself with the new photography program that had you doing a lot of traveling aswell.

you both decided it was for the better, fearing your relationship would fall apart and end on bad terms due to long distance if you hadn’t ended it then. but still, it didn’t feel right. you wondered if he felt that same pit in his stomach. a tiny part of you really hoped he did.

however, a few weeks ago, one of the team managers for the arctic monkeys reached out to you and asked if you wanted to be one of the designated photographers for the band. this meant you would follow them around on all of their tours, basically meaning you would constantly be around alex. the pay was a lot better than your current salary.

she told you that you had a couple of months to make the decision. you constantly debated with it, earning sleepless nights out of the situation. it’s not like you could just call up alex and be like “hey so the initial cause of our breakup has been solved and i’ve actually been asked if i wanted to follow you guys on tour so haha when do you want to get back together.”

it wasn’t that surface leveled. you couldn’t just decide to get back with him just because you would actually be around him all the time. you’d assumed alex had moved on already, not wanting to go backwards.

but deep down, you still held immense amounts of love for him in your heart.

you’d truly felt like he was the one, your soulmate. you couldn’t even believe that you two weren’t together anymore. over the past months you wished and wished your paths would cross again. this couldn’t be it for you and alex, right?

the feeling simmered over you. you felt like you could control the situation and finally get rid of the immense regret you faced every day. a glimmer of hope sat within you ever since you’d gotten the offer. yet a part of you assumed you were just being irrational and that he wasn’t in love with you anymore, it was over for the better.

“you alright?” the photographer next to you questioned, sensing your nervousness. “yeah! i’m good, just a little hot out.” you managed a convincing chuckle. it seemed to work, the other photographer agreed and went back to adjusting their lens.

hurt tore through your heart again. you had to learn to come to terms with reality, you couldn’t keep pretending he was going to come crawling back to you. it was time to suck it up.

“here is your host, sounds as if she’s pretty close.”

just as you thought you were in the clear, hidden enough behind your camera, you looked up and made direct eye contact with alex. shit. the boy stared at you for a long moment, almost as if he was trying to convince himself you were really there. you blinked back at him, in a momentary trance, like a scene from a movie where everything slows down. you nervously broke the eye contact, gulping hard as you pretended to adjust your camera.

when you looked back up, he had his eyes shut again, singing just like before. you couldn’t really read his expression. he looked as if he was in pain but it could be read off as overheating.

once the song was over, the ache in your heart lifted a bit. you took a deep breath, a bit overwhelmed by all the emotions that muddled your mind.

you’ll be alright.

———

it was now somewhere around midnight. the show had ended about 30 minutes ago and you were now helping load photography equipment into one of the vans.

after carrying a particularly heavy bag, you slumped against the streetlamp, observing the void-like quality the sky held. it was an inky black, no stars were out tonight.

you were about to head in to ask your co worker if they needed anymore help when a hand gripped your shoulder. you jumped, a goofy smile and brown curly hair greeting you as you turned around.

“nick!” you slapped his chest playfully. “you scared the shit out of me!” the boy chuckled, pulling you into a hug. “i missed you terribly.”

you hadn’t seen any of the boys since you and alex’s breakup and you missed them like hell. you continued to chat with nick, exchanging greetings and catching up.

as nick talked to you, he noticed something different about you. it was difficult to notice, but he knew you well and could sense the lingering sadness that resonated within you.

“so, how’s the photography program?” you shrugged at the question. “honestly, not well. it’s super stressful and not at all what i’d thought it would be like.”

“i’m sorry, that sucks. i know you sacrificed a lot for that job.” nick looked at you, knowing you both possessed the understanding that alex had been the sacrifice. the love of your life, gone for some shitty program.

you nodded, clearing your throat. screw it, it wouldn’t hurt to tell him. “i actually um, i got an offer to shoot for you guys on the suck it and see tour, i don’t know if you knew or anything. i’ve got a while to make my choice. the pays a lot better but i’m just unsure because of… you know.” you shrugged, looking back up at nick, who had a wild grin on his face.

you furrowed your eyebrows. “what?” he shook his head, still grinning. “nick, seriously what is it.” you were starting to get annoyed. he knew something you didn’t. the boy looked up at the dark sky, and then around you both, contemplating if he should tell you or not.

“alex was the one who recommended you.”

STAY TUNED FOR PT.2!!

———

hellooo!! i hope you enjoyed, i’ve convinced myself this is the most boring thing i’ve ever written soooo i’m sorry if it was 🤕

sweet dreams! ⭐️

taglist- @ultragirrl @inmyownfantasywrld @almluv @raven-ql @ohladymoon @yourstartreatment @missbabyjay @andulina567 @blair-s-world @rentsturner

#alex turner #alex turner x reader #arctic monkeys #humbug #alex turner fluff #alex turner one shot #suck it and see #tlsp #alex turner smut

278 notes · View notes