#lotsa word vomit

[ienjoywritingfilth]

a sinner i am part ii

You should regret what you did. . . so why don't you?

trope: Boyfriend's Dad PP character: Joel Miller x f reader / Shawn Miller x f reader chapter summary: It's the day after your encounter with Joel you should both regret what you did, right?

series masterlist

you wanted more of this story so i'm gonna give it to you!!!!!!!!!! i have a whole story plotted so i hope you stick around and reblog and review and all that good shit. - IEWF

warning: 10/10 on the sexual tension scale, fantasy oral, lotsa guilt, public masturbation, male masturbation, cheating on your bf (but it’s cool, cuz its with Joel and everything is fictional in this universe), alternative universe b/c daddy miller stays alive and hates golf and he has a son named Shawn, no Sarah. rating: E

words 6.3k

taglist: @lady-viscera | @cjdign | @fuckthatbazinga | @liciafonseca | @stevie75 | @joelalorian | @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff | @akah565 | @dontknow446 | @pedritosgfreal | @yesjazzywazzylove-blog | @untamedheart81 | @ashleyfilm | @sptbear | @elegantduckturtle | @noneofmyshipsarereal | @blahkateisdone | @hisandsnakes | @wintersquirrel | @shivkillian | @sheepdogchick3 | @moel-jiller | @cuteanimalmama | @gossipgirl-03 | @cowboymarcs | @tahi2006 | @guelyury | @churchofjoemiller | @r3dheadedwitch | @tutarrads | @galway-girlatwork | @supertoga

part ii:  fun in the sun

I am good, but not an angel. I do sin, but I am not the devil. I am just a small girl in a big world trying to find someone to love. - Marilyn Monroe

You lay in bed the next morning, eyes on the ceiling and a deep ache in your stomach. You glance to your left, looking at the sleeping form of Shawn, his thick hair falling onto his cheek as he inhales and exhales slowly. The light hits his golden skin, making him glow. His sharp nose leads into his pouty mouth, always so soft against yours. 

He looks so much like Joel.

Is this what Joel looked like at this age?

You feel bile rise up in your throat as the thought skitters across your mind like a beetle. You throw yourself out of bed, rushing into the bathroom. You tug the door open on your side, making it to the sink in just enough time to vomit.

As you continue regurgitating last nights kaleidoscope of alcohol you hear the door creak and the visage of Shawn appears in the mirror, coming up behind you with a concerned look on his face.

“You okay, babe?” he asks, coming to pull your hair back from your face into a loose ponytail as you spit.

“Too much to drink at dinner I think,” you offer between gags.

“Let’s hop in the shower,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss to your shoulder when you’re finished brushing your teeth minutes later.

The two of you undress and you welcome the water that coats you. You imagine it washing the sins of last night from your body. Shawn washes your hair tenderly, making sure to scrub at your scalp how you like. You soap up everywhere, as well as his body. He’s hard when you get to his cock, his mouth in a sultry smile.

“We just got clean, but I think I wanna get dirty,” he grins.

“I just puked,” you say, trying not to look disgusted.

“Don’t need your mouth,” Shawn says with a playful grin as he kneels in front of you. He kisses your lower abdomen softly, his eyes trained on your face. You gaze at him there, supplicant and sweet and guilt washes over you.

“No, its okay,” you say shooting him a wobbly smile. “I’m still not feeling great.”

“Is this because of last night?” Shawn asks, concern on his features when he pulls himself to stand. “I’m sorry, I just wasn’t in the mood.”

“No, it’s not that at all, I promise.” You swallow a lump in your throat. “I was just being a bitch last night, because I drank too much. Forget anything I said, I’m so glad I’m here with you.”

The water sluices over the two of you as you hug him to you, your eyes shut tightly. He hugs you back, murmuring that you’re not a bitch, that he loves you, and that you’re both going to have such a fun time. The entire time all you can focus on is how his body feels slighter, softer than his fathers.

------------------------

The two of you exit a short while later hand-in-hand. You’re wearing your denim shorts and a cute t-shirt over your new bikini. Shawn is dressed in the cut offs and blue Hawaiian shirt you bought him the week before as a pre-gift.  

You hold your breath when you step around the corner into the kitchen and see Joel standing there in shorts and a similar shirt to Shawn’s but in burgundy. He’s working on making an espresso with the machine; his head rising when he sees you two enter.

“Mornin’ lovebirds,” Joel offers in a sleepy, morning voice.

That voice has your thighs clenching together as you remember his moan in your ear from last night. What the fuck is wrong with you? How could you think those things about a man twenty years older than you? Your boyfriends father?

You can’t even look at him. You just look at the refrigerator over his shoulder.

“Mornin’, let’s get some breakfast,” Shawn suggests. “I’m starvin’.”

“You two go on,” Joel says plastering a smile on his face. “I’m a little slower this mornin’. Musta drank too much last night.”

“You and this one,” Shawn says slinging an arm around your neck and tugging playfully. “Don’t know how to handle your liquor.”

You and Joel laugh uncomfortably. A buzzing sounds and Joel pulls his cell from his pocket.

“S’Tess,” Joel says reading the number. “Gimme a sec.”

Joel moves past the two of you to head outside. You feel his shoulder brush yours and you stiffen but he doesn’t seem to notice. You watch him raise it to his ear as he steps into the sunlight, a handsome smile crossing his face. You look over at Shawn. 

“Tess?”

“My dad’s girlfriend,” Shawn says after he swallows a sip of his dad’s coffee.

“Oh right,” you nod. “You mentioned that.”

That’s right. If this secret gets out it’s not just your relationship that will be blown up, but Joel’s as well. You feel a little more relaxed at that, knowing that it’s not just your life on the line so to speak.

You sneak another glance at Joel as Shawn finishes off his dad’s drink. Joel’s hair is beach and curled in parts, woven with silver streaks. His neck is long, his hands large and his biceps curl lusciously as he holds the phone to his ear.

His voice is muffled through the closed door, but you can still hear snatches of it, low and deep and rumbling. You exhale shakily, trying to muffle it behind getting a glass of water. But your eyes remain on Joel as Shawn, oblivious to everything, pulls out his phone to check out something on his fantasy football WhatsApp group. 

As if he can feel you looking at him through the glass window of the door, Joel’s eyes cast in your direction. You quickly spin, feeling your heart pound. You hear the squeak of the door opening and you see Shawn smile at his dad.

“How’s Tess?”

“Good,” Joel says, quickly darting a look at you before looking back at his son. “She was just lettin’ me know that her flight gets in around eight tomorrow morning.”

“Good,” Shawn says. “Are we still plannin’ on bookin’ some excursions today? Wanna get to the desk before everything gets filled up.”

The three of you walk along the stone pathway that leads to the main resort. Women in large sunhats and men in ball caps with lobster red sunburns wish you a good morning. Staff in blue polo shirts embroidered with the resorts logo tell you to have a wonderful day.

The sun beats down from above, coating your shoulders in delicious, warm rays. You tilt your head back a bit, letting it touch your face. You want to enjoy your time here, despite everything that happened last night.

“Just gotta stop at the washroom,” Shawn says with a guilty look as you all walk into the air-conditioned resort lobby. “Dad’s espresso isn’t exactly sitting well.”

“You can’t handle my caffeine level, son,” Joel says with a grin. “Still just an amateur.”

Shawn rolls his eyes and moves through the crowd of chattering people to hit the washroom. You watch him leave, suddenly very aware that it’s just you and Joel standing there by the planters alone.

“S’a real gorgeous day,” Joel offers after a beat.

“Mhmmm. I can’t wait to go swimming.”

The two of you fall into an uneasy silence and you hold in the urge to cry. Joel has always been a safe, comfortable person to be around. This new withdrawn man that stands so stiffly beside you is like a stranger. You twist your fingers together anxiously, wishing Shawn would hurry the fuck up.

Joel clears his throat.

“I gotta say one thing and then we’re never talkin’ about it again.”

You feel your eyes widen at his words. You crane your neck over your shoulder to make sure you have privacy before turning back to face Joel. The man who is normally so cool and casual looks like a wind up toy on cocaine. He’s jittery and nervous looking.

“I just need to make somethin’ real clear, somethin’ that’s been botherin’ me since last night,” Joel says, licking his lips nervously. “You gotta know I never saw you like that or had feelings like that. All those times you were in my house over the years, I never thought about you like that. Ever. Not just because you’re my son’s girlfriend, but because you were so young. And that’s not my type, I mean, I don’t like younger women.”

It comes out of him in an awkward mess of tripping over his words and wincing. You can’t say that you’ve ever seen Joel with women even close to your age. The youngest maybe in her late thirties.

You never even considered that Joel could have been attracted to you until last night. He wasn’t a lecherous older man leering at you during family dinners or hugging you too long. He’d always kept a respectable distance, always made sure he looked at you with respect. When you dressed up to go out with Shawn for special dates the most he said was that you looked elegant.

Joel still looks agitated. When he takes your hand in his it’s firm, like a handshake.

“And I’m sorry I took advantage of you. I never shoulda let it get that far, even if I was a little tipsy.”

Surprised, you blink up at him. Joel thinks he took advantage of you? It’s almost laughable. You were the one who initiated everything.

“You didn’t take advantage of me, Joel,” you assure him, feeling sympathy vibrating against your bones. “I wanted to do it. It felt good to do it.”

Joel’s eyes sweep your face, concern and something else in them. You wonder if you should have not said the part about it feeling good.

“I hope we can go back to how things were before,” he says.  “I like how you and Shawn are together, you’re a good couple. I don’t want a stupid mistake to fuck it all up.”

You feel a relieved smile slide over your lips. Yes, that’s exactly what you want.

“Me too.”

 Joel smiles relieved at you, his eyes taking on that familiar chocolate brown warmth. Joel’s hand drops yours.

“He’s comin’ back,” Joel says quickly. “We’re never talkin’ about this again. Ever.”

“Okay,” you reply quietly, feeling chastised by his tone of voice.

Shawn comes up to you both and slips his arm around your waist, pulling you close. You smile up at him.

“Let’s go book some fun shit!”

After a breakfast in the resort dining room and a stop at the excursion desk your week of Hawaiian paradise is loosely mapped out.  Guided hikes, snorkelling, Dole plantation, museums, a luau on your last night. Most days have at least one activity and you’re looking forward to most.

But you left off the turtle swimming. You felt embarrassed about it after Shawn’s reaction yesterday.

Besides, you could use the money you saved for it on other things like souvenirs for your brother and parents. They’re all together this Christmas back in your hometown, sad to miss you but excited for you to have an adventure.

‘You work so hard, you deserve a little luxury,’ your mom had said when you told her.

“Tess loves hiking,” Joel says with a roll of his eyes as the three of you head to the pool. “I’m sure she’ll have us all up at sunrise for that.”

“Not me,” you say with a laugh. “I hate hiking.”

“C’mon,” Shawn insists, “you gotta go on at least one. Promise me.”

“Ugh, fine,” you say dramatically. “But only if you promise me a great view.”

“It’s Hawaii,” Shawn shoots back. “You can’t throw a rock around here without hitting a great view.”

Joel stops at the little hut next to the pool, telling the two of you to grab towels from the staff.  When you and Shawn return Joel is smiling behind his sunglasses, telling you both to follow him. You’re excited, skipping behind Shawn with a huge smile on your face. Things can get back to normal now! You’ve talked with Joel, you’ve smoothed over the issue and you can pretend like it never happened.

You follow the man in the blue polo to a nearby private area, one with teak wooden areas sat side by side along a shallow pool of water. Gauzy curtains hang blocking out the wind and several lounge chairs with plush white cushions. On the low table is a bowl of fresh fruit and several bottles of water in glass tumblers. A hammock is tied to one side, colourful pillows inside.

“Here you are, sir,” the man in blue polo says to Joel, motioning to the large wooden cabana on the end, the one with the best view of the ocean in front. “We will be back to take your lunch order soon.”

Joel thanks the man, slipping a fifty into his hand before he looks over at you and Shawn.

“Thought our first day should be one to remember.”

You squeal before throwing your tote bag onto the hammock. You toss your towel in along with it before your hands go to the hem of your swimsuit cover up, a cute little crochet piece that you happily throw onto the towel.

You glance behind you to thank Joel when your mouth runs dry. He’s got his book and phone on the lounger, but he’s shrugging off his Hawaiian shirt, hanging it on one of the hooks. He wears only his navy swim trunks and without a shirt on he’s fucking delectable. Gold all over,  broad shoulders and a back that ripples with power as he pulls the lounger out of the sun. His body is firm, but his belly has just enough softness to suggest comfort. There’s no way he’s gonna be fifty in a few years, how can that be?

He slides onto the lounger as Shawn takes off his own t-shirt, slipping it onto the same hook. You have to admire Shawn’s body, trimmer, leaner, and sexy as fuck. Shawn works hard on his muscles, but he’s not broad in the shoulder or chest like Joel. He’s the kind you find in the gym, with strong arms and calves to die for.  You look at your boyfriend’s biceps that bulge when he grabs a water and take a sip and you muse like father, like son. They’re both so fucking sexy for vastly different reasons.

Stop. Stop thinking that Joel is sexy.

The ocean is calling your name and you must answer. You dig in your back for your sunscreen as Joel and Shawn settle themselves into the two loungers side by side, talking lowly about something back home with the business.

You squirt suntan lotion into your hands, rubbing together and then sliding your slick hands down your arms and shoulders. You hate burning, and you want to avoid skin cancer, so you’re diligent in putting lotion on. You get every inch of your front and your legs, turning to ask Shawn to do your front.

You catch sight of Joel from the corner of your eyes, finding that his head is tilted slightly in your direction, despite scrolling on his phone.  It’s impossible to see where Joel is looking due to his mirrored sunglasses, but there’s this strange part of you that’s certain he’s watching you lotion up. You can’t be positive of course; perhaps it’s just your own paranoia. . . or desire.  

Why does the thought of him watching you turn you on so much?

You don’t know what on earth is guiding your actions next. You squeeze the lotion into your hands, rubbing them together before coming to your throat, sliding your coated hands down. You move sensually over the exposed mounds of your breasts, exhaling softly as they dip below the hemline and under the straps. Your nipples are hard, both at the sensation of your fingers grazing them over top the fabric, and the thought that Joel might be watching. You finish with your heart pounding in your ears as you imagine Joel watching you caress your chest.  

Stop it. This is not you. This is your boyfriend’s dad. You’re fucking disgusting.

You walk over in front of Shawn, blocking the sun from his face.

“Will you get my back?” you ask Shawn, your eyes back on the ocean in front of you. “I’m dying to swim.”

Shawn takes the lotion from you, parting his legs so you can sit between them on his lounger. You move your hair over your shoulder, letting him squeeze the lotion onto your back. You shudder a bit, its cold on your sun-warmed skin.

It makes you wriggle in your seat, making Shawn pinch you lightly on the side, murmuring “stop squirmin’.”

Joel’s head tilts in your direction and you feel your stomach clench pleasurably. Is he watching you? You arch your back slightly, sighing as Shawn gets your shoulders.

You have to give your head a shake at your sick thoughts. Why would Joel be watching you? He already apologized for everything; he wants things to go back to normal. And you want them back to normal! You don’t want to live with this guilt.

Shawn kisses your shoulder and announces he’s done, snapping the lotion bottle closed as you jump up.  When he doesn’t make any move to join you, you stop, looking down at his supine pose and frowning.

“Aren’t you gonna come?”

“You know I don’t like swimming,” Shawn says with a smile.

“Back home in the pools,” you pout, pulling your sunglasses on and straightening. “But this is Hawaii.”

“Yeah, and I’m gonna sit here and read my book while I enjoy watchin’ you swim.”

You roll your eyes and press a kiss to his cheek.

“You’re no fun.”

“Dad, you like swimmin’,” Shawn says, patting your bottom playfully. “Will you go with her?”

You clock Joel tensing up as he unbuttons his Hawaiian shirt. He darts his gaze from his son over to you and you try to keep your voice from wobbling.

“No, its fine,” you say quickly. “I’m probably gonna be quick anyway.”

You turn and quickly make your way down the sand, grateful at how isolated this section of the beach is, thankful that you don’t have to stay there with Joel looking at you.

Joel watches you saunter down the sand, trying not to focus on how your ass jiggles deliciously in your swimsuit.  He’s thankful he doesn’t have to swim with you right now because he’s not sure he could keep from getting hard.

He doesn’t know what the fuck is wrong with him. You’re off limits, you’re his son’s girlfriend and you’re so much younger than him. He doesn’t know why something in his brain suddenly transformed you from his son’s girlfriend into a sexy woman with curves in all the right places. He’s never looked at you like that, never seen you as anything but an extension of his son. But now? Now it’s like you’re a stranger to him, a stranger he desperately craves to touch again.

Watching you lotion yourself up was like his own personal hell, trying to convince himself not to watch you while trying his best not to brick up.  He exhales softly, watching as you dance along the edge of the water, dipping a toe in to test the temperature.

"Dad how did you know you wanted to marry mom?" 

Joel looks to his son in surprise, seeing the reflected insecurity in the question. The topic of Shawn’s mother is one that is often avoided, or brushed under the rug. Joel doesn’t like to ruminate on the past, he doesn’t like living in that time when money was tight and his son was going to the first grade without a mother. He doesn’t like remembering the long nights trying to build up his business while he made cupcakes for school bake sales.

But perhaps he should thank her. Without her absence maybe he wouldn’t have striven so hard for success. Without her absence perhaps he would have grown complacent being a foreman instead of running his now incredibly successful company.

"Couldn't imagine a life without her," Joel finally answers honestly. "Didn't want to do anything without her by my side." 

He takes a large gulp of the drink, thankful for its cool and refreshing taste as the sun warms the sand. He doesn't like to think of his ex wife very often. Maria was a kind woman in many ways, a fun wife but a terrible mother. 

Shawn looks nervously at you in the water, his lips thinning.  You’re prancing in it now, it’s up to your waist and you’re splashing it in front of you, maybe trying to scare off an insect. Joel watches as you spin, holding your breath and finally diving in.

You emerge seconds later, your hair slicked back and your body glistening with water. It sluices down your body in rivulets as you stride back to shore, your body shining, your swimsuit clinging to you and from here Joel can see your nipples hardened.

Fuck.

"And how did you know things were over for you and mom?" 

Joel forces his attention from you over to where his son is looking anxiously at his hands.

"I didn't really. I was still in love with her until she took off. But she just wasn't cut out for bein' a mom. She never really took to it." 

Shawn hates hearing that, hates knowing that his mom never really took to him. He nods, looking a little broken. Joel feels the familiar guilt of not being enough washing over him, like the waves on the ocean.

"It was never about you, son," Joel assures him. "Your mom just had a lot of demons." 

He sees the way Shawn is looking at you, a curious mixture of love and something else. You’re coming closer, a smile on your face as you wave at Shawn. He returns it with a smile and wave of his own.

"Why?" Joel asks. "You thinkin' of ending things-"

"It's nothing," Shawn says shaking his head. "Never mind." 

You enter into the cabana, washing your sandy feet in the shallow pool of water outside the cabana.

“It’s so nice and refreshing,” you tell them both, drying yourself with the towel before hauling yourself into the hammock. “You’re missing out, Shawn.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

You’re a little wobbly at it but finally you right yourself and sink into the comfortable canvas. It’s not long before you look drowsy, a yawn escaping you. The three of you fall into a comfortable silence, reading books, swaying in hammocks, listening to the waves of the ocean.

“I’m gonna get a beer,” Shawn announces when the sun is directly overhead. He glances over at you while standing up and pulling his t-shirt on. “You want anything babe?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Dad?”

“Bud if they have it,” Joel replies, leaning back and putting his book over his face to block some of the sun.

“Be right back.”

Joel listens to his son leaving the cabana, his sandals slapping as he makes his way back to the resort. Joel could have called over one of the staff, but he has a feeling Shawn needs moment to think. He’s always been like that since he was a kid, a chronic over-thinker.

There are some in the nearby cabanas, Joel can’t see them but he can hear them. Some chuckle throatily, others snore.  He glances over at you, seeing the way the sun glistens off your skin. You must be parched.

“You want some water?”

Joel realizes that you yourself have joined the land of the sleeping when you don’t answer him. And despite everything he said to you this morning about making things go back to normal, he can’t stop himself from taking in your body.

Your breasts are practically spilling out of your suit, at least a size too small for you. As you breathe they rise and fall invitingly. He would only need to push it down an inch to have your sweet pink buds there, waiting for his tongue and teeth.

That’s your son’s girlfriend.

Joel exhales before tilting back in his lounge chair. 

Shawn's a good kid, a damn fine son. They've been through a lot together, a seamless bond, a friendship as well as being father and son. Joel knows so many other parents who can't wait for their kids to leave the house, who roll their eyes when their kids hang around. 

Not Joel, he loved when his son came home from college all wet behind the ears and excited about his classes. Joel loved having a mini-me that was just as passionate about the same things. 

He loves him so much that sometimes it cleaves his heart, making it ache and always has. He remembers the pain of taking Shawn for his inoculations, of kissing his first scraped knee, of holding him when a girl turned him down to the high school dance. 

Shawn had always been more sensitive than Joel, more even-tempered. Joel admired that in his son, hell sometimes he was even a little jealous. But to know that his own flesh and blood wouldn't stand up for his partner puts a bad taste in his mouth. 

Joel remembers when Shawn was born several weeks premature, he remembers his wife asleep in the hospital bed as beeps and hushed voices sounded. He remembers going to see his tiny son hooked up to wires, fighting to live. Joel remembers so vividly begging on his hands and knees to the entity above to spare his child, that he would give him the best life possible. 

And now that same father who would have sacrificed anything for his son sits with his thick cock aching as he watches that son's pretty girlfriend gently sway in the breeze. 

It's bad enough he's looking, bad enough that you're with Shawn. But Joel is with Tess, the sexiest subcontractor he's ever met. A woman who takes his cock with gusto just as easily as she berates insolent employees. She's tough, she's beautiful, and she’s his.

And yet he frittered that all away on a stolen kiss with you. 

Why? 

You make a soft sighing sound in your sleep and Joel feels his cock twitch. You twist in the hammock, nestling more on your side. Your breasts press heavily together and Joel swallows a moan when he sees the sweet blush of your nipples poking out at the top. 

Joel feels like the most lecherous person on the planet as he sits next to you in the cabana, watching you nap in the hammock from behind his glasses. 

He should throw a towel over you. You talked about this. If was a mistake. A onetime drunken mistake. But it's like it unlocked something in Joel, something feral and dark. Something that demands to be fed and it only costumes lust. 

He watches as you continue to sleep on, your curves touched by the sun sending skittering sunbeams along your gorgeous body. 

The desire in him is overwhelming. 

Joel glances behind him, noting that it's still fairly secluded. No one around to see him

I could be fast.

His hand slides down his stomach, over his swim trunks, coming to graze the aching cock as he watches those sweet little buds poking through your bathing suit. You're fast asleep and you have him rock hard.  

Joel keeps his eyes on you as he squeezes the head of his cock through his trunks, groaning a bit to himself as he recalls the kiss last night. Fuck you'd felt good in his arms, all supple and sweet. You'd wanted him bad, your pussy practically a magnet for his cock. 

Would you have let him touch all of you? If that splash hadn't startled you both would you have let him finger you, your head thrown back and your body jolting against his palm? Or maybe you'd even have let him fuck you against the nearby palm tree? Your arms around his neck as he fucked into your sweet velvet clench, holding you possessively and telling you exactly how to come for him. 

He's stroking himself through his trunks in earnest now, his breathing coming out in short little gasps between his plush parted lips. He imagines you on the shore, crawling to him in your swimsuit, your breasts swinging heavily as you grin up at him.

That's right, pretty girl. I'd make you cum right on this cock. Make you beg me on your hands and knees to fuck you harder. 

Joel's hand moves faster, jerking himself through the fabric as you sleep unaware that you're the star in his debauched daydream. The sound of the waves and rustling of his trunks are all that can be heard. 

Fill you full of my cum, makin’ you into my own little fuck toy. Yeah you'd like that, goin’ all whiny because I won't let you cum when you want. Have you slobber around my cock like a filthy little slut.

Joel's getting carried away now. His hand slides under his swim trunks, swallowing a groan when his wide grip finds his hardened length, weeping at the tip. Before he can stop and think rationally he's begun jacking himself off underneath his shorts.

He's all red faced, breathing through clenched teeth. He wants you to wake up and see what he's doing but at the same time he doesn't. Fuck he's losing his mind. He feels out of control, like he can't help himself. He's not this guy. He's not this guy but you're so fucking sexy and you kissed him and he could make you feel so good, he knows he could. 

Bounce that sweet body in my lap, c'mon babygirl, make daddy cum. Make him-

Nearby whistling causes Joel's blood to run cold. It’s followed by the telltale sound of sandals slapping the sand. It's Shawn on his way back from the bar. 

The fuck is wrong with me? Joel thinks to himself, tugging his hand out of his swim shorts. I'm fuckin' sick.

He wills his cock to soften, terrified that Shawn will see. In a panic he grabs the nearby towel, throwing it over his crotch and placing his book over top. Shawn rounds on the cabana, passing his father the cool bottle.  

"They didn't have bud. Hope Corona will do."

"Yeah, that's great, thanks." 

Shawn collapses into the chair beside his father. If he thinks the towel over Joel's lower half is odd, he doesn't remark on it. 

"She's passed right out," Shawn says casting a loving gaze your way as you away in the breeze. "She could sleep anywhere."

"Yeah?"

Shawn nods. "She fell asleep on the subway when we went to New York."

Joel grins at that, imagining you there, eyes shut as tourists walk by you on the bustling train.

He's known you for years and he has seen you fall asleep in some comical places. His favourite was last summer when the three of you went to a symphony because Joel was gifted tickets from a client at work. 

You'd been excited, wearing a beautiful dress and knotting your hair. Joel had thought you looked so elegant, feeling strangely proud of the woman his son was with. You were intelligent and funny and warm and beautiful. You reflected well on Shawn and subsequently Joel. 

You were sat between the Miller men, your eyes luminous as the concert began. But before intermission had arrived Joel felt your cheek against his shoulder. He glanced down to see your eyes shut and your body slack with sleep.

That was back when things were simple. When he just thought you were a sweet little thing that made his son happy.

Desperate to change his clouded imagination, Joel turns to his son.

“You still enjoyin’ school?” Joel asks, tipping the beer into his mouth.

“It’s okay,” Shawn nods, taking a long pull from his own bottle. “I just kinda wish I coulda done the Computer Science program instead.”

“I figured with you takin’ over the company one day, you’d wanna focus more on the business end of things,” Joel muses, his eyes still taking in your sleeping form from behind his mirrored glasses. “I guess I didn’t see how a degree in computers was gonna help.”

Shawn looks uncomfortable, “It’s a Masters of Science in Computer Science, dad.”

“Okay, still.”

“I don’t see why I need to take it over anyway,” Shawn mumbles. “You got Uncle Tommy and his son.”

“Your uncle Tommy didn’t build the company from the ground up,” Joel says darkly.

Shawn hates talking about the future of the Miller Company. Hates the thought that he’ll have to carry on the legacy that his father built from the ground up. Hates that his own interests and passions have to be pushed to the side. Hates that yet another part of his life needs to be shut down.

“Dad, it’s my vacation,” Shawn says sighing. “Can we not talk about this stuff now?”

Joel frowns before nodding, looking back to the ocean. He’s irritable and tired and he’s so pent up he could scream. He takes one last look at you before announcing to Shawn that he’s going to swim. Shawn nods, looking at his phone.

Joel moves quickly into the water, thankful that not a lot of people are around. The sun is beating down and he swims quickly, his long arms slicing through the waves until he’s a good distance away. From where you and Shawn rest in the cabana you only see Joel’s head.

He looks out into the endless blue, his mind a jumble. His cock is hard again, just remembering how you looked coming out of the water. He glances around casually, still ensuring the scattering of couples are nowhere near him and then he pulls out his cock underwater, stroking it quickly.

His eyes shut as he bobs in the water, trying to keep his motions subtle. But despite the lag of the water he has it at a good pace, the pleasure easily building in his body. 

He imagines you both in the cabana  alone, the two of you naked. His hand sliding up your ankles, your calves before tracing along your soaked slit. In this fantasy your eyes flutter open and you smile sweetly as his hands slide up and begin to grope your breasts.

‘Feels good’, you tell him. ‘Feels so good. Don’t stop.’

He sees your cunt getting wetter, your head falling back. You’re arching for him, desperate before you’re suddenly falling to your knees in front of him, noticing his hard cock. You lick the tip, moaning as you gaze up at him with a fucked-out expression.

‘Please daddy? I want your cock.’

Joel taps the head of his cock onto your waiting tongue, satisfied that you sit there waiting.

‘Yeah, babygirl. Make daddy cum.’

Your fantasy self urges his cock into your mouth, eyes on him as he fucks into your mouth. His balls tighten and he floods your mouth while you moan around his girth.

“Fuck, fuck,” Joel hisses as he erupts under the water, sending ropes of watery cum shooting into the waves, quickly evaporating as he swims in the other direction. Disgust fills him immediately as he realizes what he’s done and who he thought about.

He races to the cabana, pulling his shirt from the hook and grabbing his book from his lounger. You’re awake, talking to Shawn. You both look over at Joel in confusion at his rapid movements.

“You okay, old man?”

“Headache,” Joel replies to his son. “See ya back at the room.”

Tomorrow Tess will be here, he tells himself as he walks back to the unit. Tomorrow things will be better.

It’s just that he has no distraction, no outlet for these weird feelings. He hasn’t been laid in over a week, that’s all.  And you’re just there in front of him. It could be anyone.

He’s hard again by the time he gets back to his bedroom.

He rushes into the bathroom, turning on the shower. He’s about to get in when he spots the door to your bedroom cracked open. He can’t stop himself from moving in, eyes darting around the space. Your suitcases sit side by side by the closet. Your dress for dinner tonight is hung on the back of the chair before the mirror. Shawn’s baseball cap, forgotten this morning, rests on the ledge of the window.

Joel continues this strange voyeuristic adventure, seeing that you don’t make your bed in the morning like he does. Your vitamins sit in a plastic pack beside your phone charger on the bedside table. Your makeup is on the table by the mirror, along with your perfume.  Joel pops open the cap, inhaling the sweet aroma of violet and black coconut. Its how you smelled last night, your sticky body pressed to his, your lips so soft and desperate for him.

His cock twitches at the memory.

Don’t fuckin’ do it, man. This is crossin’ so many lines.

He can’t stop himself. He sprays it onto his wrist before placing the bottle back on the vanity. His cock is throbbing now and he throws himself into the shower, tugging his cock furiously as he holds his wrist to his nose.

It’s like you’re there in the shower with him, begging him to fuck you.  He inhales the sweet floral scent as his hand jerks quickly, causing the pleasure in his spine to run the length of his body. His cum hits the tiles seconds later, your name echoed in the space.

He feels absolutely disgusting when the last vestige of his arousal slips from him, along with his cum down the drain.

When he hears Shawn and you come through the doors a short while later he tells his son through the door that he’s not feeling great, that he thinks its sunstroke and gonna stay in his room for the night.

Tomorrow when Tess is here things will be better. Things will go back to normal.

They have to.

[sergeant-norman-allen]

do you have any texture(food or touch)issues or uncomfortableness around loud noises or certain/specific noises?

Once again sorry if this is oddly worded but i think its common with people with autism with me loud noises that surround me and food textures(loud noises echoing and noises causing things to shake) (certain food textures like liquid cheese make me wanna vomit or will make me gag)

I don’t got no food issues really, cause growin’ up I had t’ eat anythin’ or I would starve, but I hate th’ feelin’ o’ wool and o’ that new-fangled “quick dry” sports fabric, I don’t know what it’s called.

I don’t mind loud noises, I use a gun- I can’t be picky about sound.

…I… suppose I do hate when lotsa folks are talkin’ at th’ same time, or when folks in th’ office click their pens. Makes my head itch and my teeth hurt.

…I doubt all that silly shit counts though.

[matchadobo]

KIDD; it all started with a drink

tags: afab!reader, mentions of alcohol, lotsa cursing, slight nsfw but no seggs, not proofread (if grammar stinky i'm sorry)

summary: name got a little too carried away with the vodka and decided to make it their captain's problem.

wc: 1028

"captain!" you shouted, almost tripping over yourself on the doorway of his dreary workshop. it was past two in the morning and you were definitely not on your right mind. you bought this wine off a market from the town victoria punk docked on for the night, unaware that it'll intoxicate you that fast. you wanted to celebrate how successful your battles were, winning against forces upon forces of pirates and the navy. "oh fuck," you mumbled, grabbing the table for support but ended up knocking over some stuff. the clanging of the pieces of metals on the desk startled your captain.

kid wouldn't normally bat an eye at your call since he was too occupied with his craft but the ruckus you were making irked the redhead so badly he had no choice but to confront you. he sauntered towards you, boots thud by the wooden floor. you tried your best maintaining your balance despite feeling so lightheaded, your entire world is spinning. "the fuck are ya doing?" he snarked, hands by his hips

"vodka?" you raised a big bottle with the widest grin you could muster. face flushed and breath reeking of liquor.

"you're so goddamn drunk it's unbelievable." he chuckled, "its damn rare to see you let your guard down." he teased, grinning down at you.

kidd knows you as someone who always has their shit together. in a ship full of men, pirates to be exact, you have always kept your guard up; it's why your captain never had the chance to hit on you. he thought about it but, he'll never submit to that.

"im not drunk, dumbass!" you bit back. "is it wrong to celebrate? success? of our crew?" you said slurring your words.

"yeah, that's about enough." he pried the vodka bottle off your fingers. you yelped, losing balance and grabbing his shirt for support; extremely narrowing the distance betwen the two of you.

his heart skipped a beat, you were so close. it took all of his power to restrain himself from kissing you. he sighed it out and said, "i'll call kil to fucking take care of you, i have no ti-" before he could finish his sentence, you found yourself puking at your captain, retching again and again and again.

"fucking damn it!" he groaned. you raised your head wiping off residue from your mouth and grabbing the vodka he took from you.

"that's what you get." you laughed, downing the bottle and walking past him.

"hey! where the fuck do you thi- don't fucking touch anything, woman!" he said, still shocked by your actions.

"you know cap," you opened the bottle to drink some more." you could either bitch about the dumbest things in here or you could share a drink with the most amazing woman you could lay your eyes on." you sat down his table, legs crossed, patting the space beside you, and having a welcoming smile.

his face was bashful, if only you knew how crazy you make him feel. "give me a second," he went to the bathroom to wipe off your vomit, and to collect himself. he then sat beside you ay his desk.

"there you go! that wasnt so hard is it?" you smiled offering the bottle to him, to which he accepted.

"it actually is you tramp," he downed the liquid. "make sure to puke at a bowl next time, not at your fucking captain."

you faced him, he got red at the proximity. "i have been really damn curious all this time cap."

"yeah?"

"may i?" you leaned over, hands looming at his hair.

"w-what the hell, woman?!" he let out strings of curses and protests yet, he didnt recoil as you got closer to him.

you reached over his goggles and took it off. tossing it somewhere across the room. you found yourself flushed, and so was he.

"i knew you'd look like a prince." you uttered with a genuine smile, putting a hand over your chest as you endearigly gaze at him. his wavy crimson bangs elegantly curtaining his forehead and piercing honey eyes. you reached over to comb his hair away from his face. it was surprisingly fluffy and silky. "you should let it down more often cap,"

"f-fuck off..." he looked away with cheeks as red as his hair.

"you probably don't hear this often but you're really handsome cap. if you reaaaaaally tried." you blurted out getting closer.

"yeah?" he finally turned his head back to you. only to brush your noses together.

"absolutely." you mumbled leaning even closer, as the spaces between your lips were tiny.

"i think you probably hear this often though but you are fucking gorgeous." he whispered back, tucking a piece of hair onto your ear and a hand on the column of your neck and face. your heart felt like it would explode out of your chest.

your lips were millimeters apart, waiting for a green light from each other. you advanced but kidd pulled away. "...you're drunk, this is not fair."

"but i want to," you grab a hold of his cheek to bring him back, fingers lingers on his skin. oh how goosebumps spread like wildifires across his body from your touch.

"you don't. you're fuckin drunk." he resisted.

"but i want to fucking to kiss you, eustass." you asserted, voice growing a notch higher.

he finally looked at you and alas your lips crashed. his hands shifted to the back of your head, deepening the kiss even further.

falling naturally by his thighs as he guided your hips, you straddled yourself at his lap.

he stood up, carrying you by your bottom. you two then got settled by the velvety, raven couch on his room, still in the same position. lips and hands never leaving each other. you were about to take off his vest, only to be stopped. grip firm on your wrist.

"making out is one thing. you're too drunk to know what the hell are you doi-"

"i'm sober enough to know what the hell i fucking want and i fucking want you right now, okay?!" you protested, fiery eyes filled with desire for him.

he chuckled to himself and said, "by all means, princess."

my first attempt on an hc 😱🥶 i'll probably cringe looking back at this shit after a few months but anw brain dumpppp kidd the most delicious <3

[piracytheorist]

Vulnerable (1/2)

Fandom: Spy x Family Word count: 4.4k for this chapter - 6.6k in total Warnings: Brief, non-graphic mentions of vomiting

Summary: Loid gets sick. Yor looks after him. A few feelings escape his control.

AO3

~

A/N: Uhhhh yeah bit of a writing exercise. Lotsa feels included. Have fun.

~

It was a quiet morning.

Yor stretched her limbs on her bed, once again grateful for the soft mattress. Loid really knew his stuff.

She wanted to give herself a few more minutes of snuggling under the covers; it was a Saturday, after all, and the silence coming from the rest of the house told her that Anya was still not up, so Yor could afford a little more lazy time.

But then it hit her.

It was too quiet.

There hadn't been a day since she moved in that she hadn't woken up hearing Loid moving around, usually preparing breakfast already.

Not that she demanded it from him; it was all his initiative and she would take up cleaning afterwards anyway.

She sat up, rubbing at her eyes. Maybe he had decided he needed some lazy time too. Perhaps she could fix something simple for Anya that wouldn't leave her stomach in shambles. That is, if Loid took too long to get up, which she doubted. Despite all the reassurances he kept giving her, he never seemed to relax enough from his responsibilities and let her take up some.

But then again, it was her choice to be a mother to Anya. Their agreement had never demanded actual motherly responsibilities from her.

So she got up. She washed her face in the bathroom then moved on to the living room. It felt almost eerie, to be up at this hour and see no-one there. Bond was probably sleeping by Anya's side as well.

She straightened up and went to the kitchen. She started quietly getting some pots and utensils out - she could still assist by preparing the kitchen - and checked the cupboards. She could hardly ruin a bowl of cereal, right?

Her eyes perked up at the sound of the door to Loid's bedroom opening, then closing. It was funny, how each door in the apartment made a different sound, and how she could already tell which one was used every time.

It brought a smile to her face when she also recognized the sound of the bathroom door.

The smile quickly dropped at the sound of someone retching.

She almost ran to the bathroom door, her hand hovering over the doorknob.

No, Yor! This is a vulnerable moment for him - give him space to present himself.

She stepped back, putting her hands over her chest. Was he feeling ill? Was that why he was up later than her?

After another round of vomiting sounds she turned around, eyes focusing on one of the kitchen cupboards.

Tea for rehydration. And then lemon juice and crackers. Those help with nausea, right?

As she opened the cupboard where they kept the crackers, the bathroom door opened slowly. Was he feeling better already?

She prepared to face him with a smile, but the sound of his bedroom door shutting felt almost like a rejection.

Calm down, Yor. He probably just went back to bed. If he doesn't come out in a couple of hours, you can check in on him then.

She still took out the crackers and left them on the counter.

He was out only minutes later, already dressed in his suit. Right, he had said he had a shift that morning.

"Loid? Good morning."

"Good morning, Yor."

She could tell he was trying to keep his voice steady. He kept his head low, quickly reaching for his hat.

Her eyes were too well trained to not notice the way his hand shook or the sweat that had gathered at the nape of his neck.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Yeah. Just a bit of nausea, is all." He reached for the crackers, head so low that the brim of his hat covered his eyes. "I'm running a little late, would you mind making some breakfast for Anya?"

"Sure, don't worry."

"Thank you. I'll see you later," he said and turned around. He hadn't opened the cracker box; was he planning to eat on the way to the hospital?

She shook her head. He was the doctor, after all.

The sound of the main door closing definitely felt like a rejection; perhaps she should have pressed harder… or would that be her overstepping her boundaries? But she knew how overworked he was--

Her thoughts trailed off when she heard something all too familiar; the distinctive sound of a body hitting the floor.

Without a thought she ran and opened the door. Loid hadn't even made a single step off before he'd passed out.

"Loid!"

She leaned over him; his hat had fallen off and she could clearly see the dark circles under his eyes, as well as the sweat that was drenching his hairline. He seemed to be breathing heavily.

"Oh, no."

She gently - gently, Yor! - shook his shoulder. A soft grunt came from him as his eyelids flickered slightly open.

"Loid, are you feeling okay? Maybe you should skip work today," she said as softly as she could. She knew how cautious Loid was about their gossiping neighbors; it wouldn't do to have them know he'd passed out like this.

Illegible words came from his mouth, but knowing him, it was probably a protest.

"Just let me take you back in. If you feel better later, you can go."

Loid didn't react. Had he completely passed out now?

Not wasting any time, Yor grabbed his arms and threw them over her shoulders.

She almost shivered when his forehead touched the back of her neck; he was burning.

The shock and the immediate need to bring him in almost made her forget to pick up his fallen hat and crackers. Impatient, she simply kicked them inside and walked in, softly closing the door behind her with her foot.

She put Loid gently down on the sofa; he made a weak grunt, but his eyes stayed closed.

Bond had gotten up. He left out a soft wail as he moved to rest his head on the sofa, right next to Loid's.

"Oh, Bond," Yor said and softly petted his furry head. "He'll be alright. Loid is strong." She then turned back; Anya was still sleeping, but would wake up soon too.

She sighed and turned her attention back to Loid.

Alright. She knew some basic first aid. Once Loid woke up, he could give her some more advice.

First she relaxed his tie and undid the first two buttons of his shirt. Loid seemed to sigh unconsciously in relief. There was more sweat on his neck.

Alright, alright. Her hands moved to start unbuttoning his vest, but she froze when his hand suddenly grabbed her arm - though pretty weakly.

She looked up at him, shocked by the look of horror on his face.

"Yor?!" he said, his voice breaking at only that short word. "What…"

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I just- I've heard that when someone passes out, you should loosen their clothes so they can breathe."

"I… I passed out?"

It seemed to be then that he realized it, as he looked around and figured out where he was - but then his eyes closed again, and he let go of her arm to rub at his forehead.

"You have a fever," Yor said cautiously. "You shouldn't go to work today."

His eyebrows scrunched in that way they did every time he was thinking hard. He tried to get up, but then what seemed like an invisible force dragged him back down.

"I can call the hospital and tell them you're too sick to go," Yor offered.

Loid sighed, his eyebrows still taught. "I should just wait it out a bit," he said, words slurred. He opened his eyes, but they seemed unfocused.

Yor nodded reluctantly. If he had a bug or something, wouldn't it be a bad idea to go to a place full of sick people?

Still, all she said was, "Do you need help unbuttoning your vest? It should make you breathe easier."

He shook his head, then grabbed at the back of the couch with his hand. He swayed as he slowly and awkwardly dragged himself to a sitting position. She kept her hands off, deciding she could at least bring him a glass of water.

His movements were very slow, so she kept her own slow. He took off his jacket, vest and tie, then apparently loosened his belt.

She bit back a reaction when she saw him throw his legs off the sofa, but Bond instead raised on his hind legs, resting his front on Loid's lap; it was as if he was telling him to stay right where he was.

Loid was looking at the dog with a lost expression as Yor came to him with the water.

"Perhaps you should stay lying here. It will be easier to keep an eye on you, and I don't want to intrude in your room."

He raised his head to look at her, and even that small movement seemed to take too much effort, as he brought his hand to support himself on the sofa before he swayed off of it.

She offered him the water, once again noticing how the cogs in his mind were turning.

He finally sighed and took the drink. His breath clouded the inside of the glass as he drank slowly. "I have to be careful to not pass out again. Try to keep me awake, please," he said as he set the empty glass on the table and lay carefully on his side.

Just in time, Anya's door opened.

Yor didn't miss the small smile that perked on Loid's lips. She smiled a little back; if Loid needed something to keep him up, Anya making sounds all over the house would be perfect for that.

Yor turned back when she did not hear the bathroom door. Anya usually went straight there to splash water on her face every morning after waking up. Now she was standing in the hall, confusion on her small face as she stared at them.

"Papa's sick?"

Yor's smile turned reassuring as she walked to her. The amount of insight this girl had would never cease to astonish her. "He's just feeling a little unwell."

"And he'll sleep here?" Anya whispered at her.

Of course, Yor had already noticed how Loid had never even rested his eyes in the presence of another person. She took a quick glance at him, and though his eyes were closed his forehead seemed focused.

"We can keep him company, that way." And make sure he doesn't get any worse.

Anya's eyes darkened a little, then she walked to the sofa. She looked at her father, then turned to Bond, whose ears suddenly perked up. After a moment, Anya's face relaxed into a smile, and she quietly went to the bathroom.

Right. Yor should call the hospital, then make something simple - and painless - for breakfast.

Loid pushed the words out of his mouth as he waited for the thermometer to measure his temperature. Call this number, ask for Doctor Green, say he's feeling sick and will call again later.

Yor bit back her retort about how he should stay at home all day today, but she simply took off the thermometer and checked it. His temperature was 38.3.

"I've already taken acetaminophen," Loid slurred. "All I should do now is wait for the fever to drop." A shiver ran up his body as he spoke.

"Do you need a blanket?" Yor asked, and Loid nodded.

Anya was already bringing a spare blanket, causing Yor to smile again at her kindness and insight. She walked to the phone and dialed the number Loid had told her.

"Hello?"

A woman's voice. It felt familiar.

"Good morning," Yor said with a smile. "My name is Yor Forger. May I speak to Dr. Green?"

"That's her." While the first 'Hello' had sounded typical, a tension was now audible in the doctor's voice.

"Oh, hello! I am Loid Forger's wife. He's not feeling well this morning, so he'll have to stay home today. I hope it won't be a big inconvenience."

"He's feeling ill?"

"Yes, he has a fever."

"Is he conscious?"

Yor tensed. Dr. Green was getting more serious by the moment - and where had Yor heard that voice before? "Yes, but I don't think he can make it to the phone." She turned to look at him. He looked back, but before he could even try and get up, Bond raised his head with a definite borf.

Somehow, that stopped him.

"He asked me to call you instead," Yor added.

"I see. Keep me informed on his condition, please." Worry. Definitely worry.

"I will. He's in good hands," Yor said without thinking, then bit her lip.

"Thank you. Tell him I'm wishing him a quick recovery."

"I will, thank you." That's enough, you're sounding awkward, Yor…

"Good day."

"Good day to you too." She put the speaker down with a sigh. Hopefully she didn't embarrass herself too much. She turned, catching the almost shocked way Loid was looking at her, though a split second later his face had turned neutral, and then the usual wide-eyed stare Anya gave her father.

"What did she say?" Loid asked. His voice was already sounding weaker.

"She said to let her know when you get better." Or worse. "And she wished you a quick recovery."

He closed his eyes again, the usual worry on his eyebrow coming back. "Thank you." He shivered again.

Anya turned on the TV as Yor did her best to make a simple breakfast for the two of them, while preparing some tea for her and Loid; Loid should stick to the crackers and wait for a few hours before eating anything heavier. Anya ate quietly as she watched her cartoons, but Loid had fallen back asleep when Yor left their cups of tea on the table.

He was breathing normally, aside from the occasional shiver. Should she wake him up or let him rest? His vigilance was important to him, but right now rest was necessary.

She opted to sit on the armchair he usually sat on and watch him closely.

There hadn't been that many times that Yor needed to look after Yuri like that; he'd quickly built a strong immune system, so now she could only recall a couple or so moments that she'd stayed by his side like that. Anya moved on to drawing, then playing with Bond, then watching more cartoons, but Yor found herself comfortable just looking at Loid's face slowly - very slowly - relax into peaceful sleep.

She took off the blanket when he started sweating again, and Anya was happy to help bring a cold compress for him - that was, until she saw Yor's face at the water it was dripping on the floor. Anya's head was kept low when she went back to the bathroom to squeeze it, and was still low when she returned.

Yor took it with a smile - which made Anya relax too - and softly placed it on Loid's forehead. Her chest suddenly clenched at the soft whimper that left him as she did so.

She took a moment to get a good, close look at him. She barely remembered knocking him out that time in the bar, so that was the first time she could clearly see him in such a vulnerable state. From that proximity, she could even notice the tiny blonde stubble that was peeking out on his jawline. Of course, why would he have the strength to shave today?

She felt a pinch at her stomach as she leaned back. She never looked at him so intensely, but she knew he was very diligent with his appearance. It had been so hard for Yuri until he got the gist of the razor - she hadn't trusted herself not to hurt someone with a blade, so he had to learn by himself. She briefly wondered who taught Loid to shave. Did his father get the chance to teach him?

Up until now, the only family Loid had talked to her about outside of Anya was his mother. He didn't even have pictures of his first wife around. He probably still wished to keep his feelings about her and her passing private. No actual pictures of his parents, either. Though with him being young during the war, that was no surprise…

He had said how he'd felt jealous of her and Yuri, because he didn't have anyone himself aside from Anya, and suddenly the weight of just how lonely he must have felt in his life fell heavy on her chest.

She squeezed her eyes shut. How did she reach that point just from noticing that he hadn't shaved today?

She forced a sigh out and opened her eyes again. Her gaze landed on Anya, who was looking at her, wide eyes on the verge of tears.

"Anya? Are you alright?"

Anya simply nodded and turned her attention back to the TV, her shoulders slumped.

Yor got up and walked to her, slowly sitting down next to her and wrapping her arm around her little shoulders. "Loid is going to be alright. He's strong, right? You don't have to worry."

Maybe it hadn't been the best idea to have her see him like that. The original plan was to keep her there so she'd make enough noise to keep Loid conscious, but his fever seemed to have completely knocked him out.

Anya leaned towards her and hugged her; in a weird way, it felt like Anya was comforting her instead. Yor simply hugged her back - carefully.

They stayed like that for a while, until she looked at the clock - it was time to take Loid's temperature again.

She took off the now warm compress and gave it to Anya's offered hand to cool it again. As she waited for the thermometer to settle, she brought a glass of water for him.

38 degrees now. It was little, but better than nothing. It was not going to drop completely in just that short time, right?

Anya came back with the carefully squeezed compress. Yor put it on Loid's forehead, then whispered, "Loid, do you hear me?"

A quiet moan was all of his response. Yor looked at the thermometer again. Should 38 degrees be that incapacitating?

Still, she added, "You need to drink some water. I'm going to lift you up a little so you can drink, alright?"

He didn't respond, but he didn't react either when she carefully slid her arm under him. His back, which had been resting on the cushions, felt even hotter than his forehead, and Yor tried to keep herself calm.

"Here. It's water," she said with a wary voice as she touched the glass to his lips.

They parted slightly, conscious of the offered drink. He drank slowly, his breath once again leaving mist on the glass. He retracted his lips after a few sips.

"That should be enough for now," Yor said as she took the glass away. Right as she was about to set him back down, a sound left his mouth; it felt like he'd whispered her name. His lips then moved a little more, and thinking he wanted to tell her something, she turned her head to the side and leaned in closer to listen clearly.

Her entire body froze when instead of whispering, he left a slow but short kiss on her cheek.

She stayed there for a few seconds as his hot breath kept stroking the place where his kiss had landed.

That… that was a kiss, right? It sounded like one, too.

Finally getting some control back, she set Loid down and looked at him, feeling her face red and hot.

He seemed so peaceful, instead. The worry in his brow was completely gone now.

Yor looked around, too shocked to even bite down on her trembling lips. Her gaze caught Anya, who was now pretending to draw; the wide grin on her face said out loud what was most definitely on her mind.

Papa and Mama are flirting.

Yor got up with a grunt that sounded more like a trembling whimper. She walked to the kitchen, her legs stiff as her entire body.

She let her thoughts run wild as she occupied her hands with doing the dishes.

Was he aware?! Did he really mean to kiss me?! And I didn't try to knock the living daylights out of him?!

What does that mean?! Was he just grateful for the help?!

What should I tell him when he wakes up? Will he even remember it? Should I pretend it didn't happen?

She chanced a look at Loid through the opening in the kitchen.

If he does remember… should she pretend it didn't happen?

And if he did mean it… would she even want to pretend it didn't happen?

~

Anya had first thought Papa's mind while sick was the weirdest time she'd ever had as a telepath; it was wild to hear the voice that usually spoke with such control and in so much depth suddenly speak so slow, so at once, and so simple.

My mouth feels dry. My head hurts. It's too warm. I think I stink.

It almost felt like reading an animal's mind, like Bond's. Anya smiled at the dog sitting by her side, remembering the vision he'd had. Papa would be up by tonight. Bond's mind was almost comforting at times. Especially now.

Because she hadn't been prepared for Mama's mind as soon as Papa had given her a kiss. Her usual tease about them flirting had come up in her mind, but Mama's mind was immediately flooded by thoughts and questions Anya could not make any sense of.

She briefly wondered if that's how the characters in Berlint in Love thought. She still couldn't understand what Becky adored about that. Anya knew Mama could think way too off sometimes, but even two-eighths of her speeding thoughts now were enough to give her a headache.

It was really weird for Papa's thoughts to be quiet and simple, and for Mama's mind to go full speed in all directions.

She needed a distraction, and even she was surprised by her willingness to do that instead.

Maybe Papa and Mama actually flirting was what would make Operation Strix a success?

~

"Mama," Anya said suddenly. "I think I'll go do some homework."

"Uhh- yes. Good idea, Anya!" Yor said, a little too excitedly, finally letting go of the dish she had been needlessly rubbing clean for a whole minute now. "Let me know if you need some help!"

The dishes done, Yor picked up a broom and decided to sweep off Bond's shedding fur. Anything to avoid looking at Loid again until her mind had calmed down.

Fur swept, coffee table cleaned, Anya's toys put away, and her mind was still off the rails.

She turned on the TV and sat back down on the armchair. At least some visual distraction would do for now.

After her body had relaxed at last, it tensed back up when she sensed movement from the sofa. She peeked at Loid from the corner of her eye.

He sighed weakly as his eyes opened. He looked around, seeming a little lost, until he spotted her and focused on her.

Her fists clenched and she swallowed hard. What should she say? Is he going to tell her about it?

Is he going to want a kiss back?

"Yor?" he said simply.

"Y-Yes! Here!" she spat out, barely turning her head towards him.

He let out a low growl. "Do I look that bad?"

Her head whipped towards him, finally flushing at the sight of his face. "What? N-No! I was just… distracted by the TV." Her hand pointed at it; she had intended to wave at it absent-mindedly, but instead her arm raised stiff as a stick and stayed frozen mid-air.

She swallowed hard again and brought it down, the nails of both her hands digging into her palms.

"Where's Anya?"

"She's s-studying."

He must have been conscious enough, since his eyebrows raised a little in surprise. "Really?"

Yor nodded excessively. Her head felt like a woodpecker's that was digging a hole in a tree.

"Thank you," he said and took a breath, still exhausted, before adding, "for taking care of her as well."

She felt herself relax a little; that was an easy topic. "Oh, no problem. She's been a very good girl." She smiled, but it fell when she saw Loid's expression turn a little somber. "Don't worry," she said and finally turned her body towards him. "You'll be alright. Your fever has dropped a little already."

Loid's eyes closed, and the hand that was resting on his chest tried to clench into a fist, but failed. "If you weren't here…" he said and trailed off. "If something worse happened, Anya has no one else…"

All her nervousness was now gone, replaced by a need to reassure him. She softly put her hand over his. "She'll have me."

Just then, his eyes opened. She smiled at him, but his expression darkened further. She could swear she saw guilt in it.

After a moment of looking into his eyes, waiting for him to relax, she said, "Don't worry about it now, alright? Go back to sleep and make sure you get better." She smiled again.

He closed his eyes, the worry in his brow returning.

She let go of his hand to feel for his forehead, remembering it had barely been fifteen minutes since she last took his temperature and she should wait a little longer before doing it again.

Yor leaned back in the chair, her eyes not leaving Loid's. It had been an instinctual response, to say she'll take care of Anya… but the more she thought of it, the more glad she felt it was finally out.

The idea of ending her agreement with Loid and leaving this house scared her by now, but she had admitted to herself that what she'd miss the most would be being in Anya's life. The joy of seeing a child grow and having that kid give so much love back at her was unparalleled. After experiencing that with Yuri, she knew it would break her heart to have it cut so short with Anya, in case…

And Loid… she'd thought that what he'd wanted to hear would be reassurance that Anya wouldn't be left alone, in the worst case scenario. But why would that make him feel guilty?

She sighed uncomfortably. At least they had something to discuss when he was feeling better, and probably avoid mentioning the kiss altogether.

If he even remembered it…

She knew she'd never forget it, herself.

Without thinking, her fingers touched the place his lips had caressed earlier, so soft and sweet… and vulnerable.

~

A/N: This was supposed to be a short sickfic, kind of a writing exercise to find my groove after a long time of not writing anything, and to get used to the characters and their way of thinking. But then 2k more words from Loid’s POV decided to appear, so I’m splitting it here, and will update soon with that 2k.

Also, non-American here. Endo is from Japan and Ostania is based on East Germany. Both countries use(d) Celsius, so it made sense to use that here.

Important note: I don’t read the manga and I avoid spoilers from it, so please make sure to not share any in the comments! :D

[offbrandtoaster]

Higurashi Gou spoilers episode 17 (and Umineko spoilers, honestly just a lot of word vomit lol):

So, I don't think Rika and Satoko are the only loopers. I also think Takano is looping, OR she at least remembers what she did in the last series of loops.

Takano not specifying why she changed her mind is what makes me believe so. If she's like Keiichi and Rena, then she only has vague memories of her worst actions. She knows in another world she would carry out that plan and kill them. But I think in order for the BIG mastermind (most likely Featherine based on the opening?) to properly set up Satoko as the piece mastermind, they had to have Takano step down.

But of course, this isn't Featherine's gameboard, but Lambdadelta's. So she has specific rules she has to follow. So Takano can't simply have a change of heart, she has to achieve it on her own. By allowing Takano to remember the evils she commits, maybe it allows her to back out before she goes through with it. She realizes how horrible her actions are before she's in too deep (again, similar to Rena, Keiichi, and Shion who all dive further into their delusions because of their first murder. They're in too far and they feel they have no other recourse.)

One thing I'm not sure about, however, is Bern and Lambda's relationship. Satoko and Rika are mirroring Lambda and Bern right now, even down to the romantic subtext. This implies THIS series of loops is actually the game between Lambda and Bern. Orrrr maybe the game was never over to begin with? Rika never actually escaped, the loop where she lives until St. Lucia was part of the game, but because Lambda abandoned the board she THOUGHT she won.

Now Featherine is poking and prodding, which has started triggering the loops once more. Maybe her death in St. Lucia's was one irrelevant to the loops. And she remained dead until Featherine came in again. Regardless, I feel like this is still a part of the original series of loops. Kind of like how despite Lambda, Erika, and Battler taking over for Beatrice, it ultimately was still Beatrice's board with certain patterns and rules it had to follow, regardless of how wild everything outside of those got twisted.

Furthermore, we know Bern was Featherine's miko.

SO, Satoko fucked up bad here, and I think this will trigger Rika to pursue a higher truth, to fully win the game of Hinamizawa. Like Beatrice's game, there was always a particular truth. I think for Hinamizawa, Satoko is SORTA right about it being to "never leave Hinamizawa," but her own trauma over the events that have happened have distorted it. It's not "Never leave Hinamizawa" but "Remember the goodness of Hinamizawa." Hinamizawa is cursed with tragedy, but also some of the best times of Rika's life. But with how much she had to live through it all, she began to resent it. We see this all the time, despite how positive Rika tries to be, she's very cold, distant, and arrogant. And who can blame her?

My guess is when she went to St. Lucia's, she cut all contact with her previous life in Hinamizawa. This probably isn't so bad for Keiichi, Rena, Mion, and Shion because they would be adults living their own lives by that point.

But Satoko literally only has Rika. The small glimpse of St. Lucia we got showed Satoko with Rika there, but I wonder under what circumstances?

My guess is Satoko follows Rika without Rika's permission. Rika begins to resent Satoko, because she is a constant reminded of Hinamizawa. Perhaps Satoko's Hinamizawa Syndrome flares up (maybe they thought they found a "cure" but it only weakened the disease, maybe she stopped taking treatments, maybe her stress got so bad it just didn't matter), and she kills Rika.

So now Featherine takes advantage if this moment. She offers Satoko a deal. You can return to Hinamizawa and have your peaceful days, buuuut... and this is where I stumble again. My guess is maybe Satoko understands tragedies trigger the loops, so when when she realizes she's in a losing loop she intentionally triggers it, unlike Rika who would usually just go passive and allow it to happen relatively naturally?

Basically, I don't think Satoko is purely evil in this. She's like Rika, hurt and broken. But where Rika's hurt took the form of apathy, Satoko's is taking the form of aggression.

[blxckbutterfli]

Haitani Rindou: Tears on a Bandage

—Character. Rindou

—Contains. Typical canon violence (gangs, fights, blood, etc), angst, lotsa crying, toxic relationship (At least, im pretty sure this is?? idk)

—Wordcount. 1.48k

—Note. Idk what this story is, i quite literally just word vomited.

You try to ignore the notifications showing up on your screen, the familiar name texting you making your knuckles turn white as its grip on the controller tightened. Instead, you try to focus on your game on the TV screen, attempting to move your little character past obstacles. There was a period of silence where you got to finally focus on the game, only to then lose as the timer ran out, eliminating you. That was when your phone rang, Rindou’s name big and clear on your screen, something you can no longer ignore.

This isn’t gonna be anything good.

You told yourself.

He’s only going to bring trouble.

Even still, your hand swiped the answer bar.

From the other side came heavy breathing and the passing sound of the still busy streets, and after a pause, Rindou spoke. “Hey-”

“Is it only you?” Calm and steady, you remind yourself, remain calm and steady.

“What?” You could barely hear his answer. A quiet grunt soon followed, what you can only assume was from pain.

“Are you alone?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m alone.”

“Good, you can come over. Don’t… leave any trails behind.” It never got easier.

“Yeah, I know. You always tell me this.”

You ended the call, tossing the phone on the couch with a huff. You want to scream and cry at the same time; you want to curse the man out for constantly contacting you even when you two have broken thing soff; you want to curse yourself for answering him.

But have you really ever broken things off? It’s not like this was any different from the last year of your relationship with Rindou.

With a groan, you trudged to the kitchen to pull out the med-kit from the cabinet.

It was another ten minutes before you heard the bell ring, and lo and behold, you opened the door to Rindou leaning against the doorframe. His clothes smeared with dirty, and soaked in sweat and blood.

“What the fuck.”

“It’s not my blood. At least, not most of it.” Your lips quiver, so you step aside to wordlessly let him in the house. You’re thankful he doesn’t see your face when he steps inside, at least then you can push back the tears welling up in your eyes.

Just do what you always do.

Calm and steady.

Rindou made a beeline to the sink, washing out the blood from the cut on his arm, hissing at the sting. “It’s nothing much, only a small cut on the…” he trailed off as he turned around and saw you. Standing by the kitchen entrance, your body tense and even at that distance, he could hear the shaky breath you let out.

“Nothing much,” Rindou reassured, “just need a small stitch.”

You tended to him in silence, not once meeting his eyes.

It never got easier.

Not even after four years of dating Rindou and even more years knowing him, years of violence, hiding away, and tending to his wounds. With every wound you tended to, a piece of your heart chipped away; every time Rindou disappeared only to show up weeks later, injured from his mission, your eyes cried until nothing was left. Until all that was left of you was the constant anxiety and fear of not knowing anything. Where are Bonten’s enemies? Can you leave the hideaway? Are you safe? Was Rindou safe? Was he even alive?

So you broke it off, no longer able to deal with the constant stress. Heartbreak after heartbreak every time he came home.

“Look at me.” Rindou broke the silence. You tensed, grip tightening around his injury. “Look at me, please.” His voice was soft, plea barely audible. He reached out when you shook your head, his other hand lifting your chin to face him. It must’ve hurt, the strong grip you had on his injured arm, it must sting and he must want to cry from pain, but his touch was still so gentle, fingers rubbing over your cheek.

Calm and…

You couldn’t hold back the tears anymore.

“I’m sorry.” Rindou picked a tissue and wiped your tears. “I’m sorry.”

“Then why are you here?” You croaked between tears, “If you’re sorry, why are you here? Why do you keep coming back?!”

And why do you keep letting him come back?

Rindou froze, and for the first time, he looked away from you.

“I told you I can’t keep doing this, I don’t want to be part of the violence anymore. So please, why are you still here?” You’re not even sure if he understood your words spat through the tears anymore, all of it slurring together as one.

“I’m scared,” he muttered. “They know your face. I’m scared that if I don’t visit, the next time I’ll see you, you’ll be…”

Dead.

Your nails unconsciously dug into his skin, yet that unbearable pain was nothing compared to the nightmares he’d have of you—shot dead, blood pooling around your body, hands cold. But behind that, the second worst pain, it was seeing you cry because of him.

Rindou had made you cry, chipping away your heart until there was nothing left and even then he still kept taking more. Invading your life even after you tried so hard to escape and conform back to a normal life.

“Can’t you see the more you visit, the more they’ll track me to you? Can’t you see that by leaving me the fuck alone, I’ll be safer? I’ll be… I’ll be…” you swallowed before saying the last words, “I’ll be happier?”

Rindou jerked away, half-moon crescents dug into his skin right at the bandage’s border. You were right, it made most sense to stay away from you, but how could he? The only love he’s received in his entire life other than his brother, how could he let it go so easily?

But seeing the tears in your eyes, your cracked voice through the sobs, how could he continue hurting you?

Rindou abruptly stood up, scaring you into a flinch. Even further reason to slap himself for later in private. For now though, he had to get away. Yes, that’s right, he had to. You were right, the more he was with you, the more you’re at risk. It wasn’t like he made the greatest getaway earlier, either, surely in is tired state he might’ve left some trace behind. Rindou was never as careful as Ran.

He had to. He had to get away. With a quick thank you, Rindou rushed to the door. Get away from you, and never come back. Never come back? No, would he even be able to hold back? Maybe he’ll watch from afar then. However, is that what you really want? You’ll be even more paranoid once you find out he had actually given you false freedom. Think. He couldn’t think when he’s around you. Get away. Get away to come up with a plan. Get away to make you happy.

“Wait!” You shouted at him from your door, Rindou already in the middle of your front porch.

What are you doing? You want to slap yourself.

“Wait.” You reached out a hand to him.

You’re being an idiot.

“Where are you going?!”

Don’t leave.

“Your bandage, it’s…”

Glancing down at Rindou’s bandage, it was indeed a mess. The gauze loosely wrapped around his arm and on the verge of falling apart.

“I don’t know what you want anymore,” Rindou said.

You don’t know what you want either.

You don’t know why you stopped him from leaving.

Isn’t that what you wanted?

Why are you begging him to stay?

“Will you be happier?” Rindou asked, “If I actually leave, will you be happier?”

You don’t answer.

Rindou took a step toward you, “Answer me.” Another step. “You’ll be safer if I leave.” Another step. “It makes more sense if I do.” Another. “But do you want me to leave?”

He stood in front of you, his meeting yours, and you could tell. It was glassy, just like yours.

“Bandage.” Was all you could mutter, “We need to… fix the…”

Rindou called out your name.

“Please.” You interrupted him. “Don’t le… I mean, fix the bandage.” You took a hold on his hand, gently tugging him inside the house again. He quietly scoffed but complied anyway, agreeing and repeating what you said in murmurs.

Bandage.

Fix the bandage.

“We’ll fix it together.”

So he sat down at your kitchen again, you took your post across his, and once again, you do what you always do—tend to his wounds.

Calm and steady.

You had tried to hard to run away from everything. You wanted to start a new life, no gangs, no violence, none. Yet looking at where you are now, you wanted to laugh at the hilarity of it all.

Rindou could never leave you alone, could he?

And like a fool, you’ll always let him.

Please reblog and leave feedback, it really makes us writers happy if you do and gives us more motivation!!

[villainous-thorn]

Continue prompt #6 pleaseeee. It's sooo good

Awww, since you asked so sweetly and used 4 e's, sure thing lovie! And thank you! <3 (also it's again not proofread, sorry!)

cw: lotsa blood, wounds, implied needles, vomiting/nausea

Prompt #6

Frostbite. Frostbite was probably what had taken their feet by now, it felt as if their limb had fallen asleep with a sharp pain prevailing over the numbness each time they put their weight on it. Briefly they wondered if it would have to be removed, before the blade in their side moved a centimeter and the heat of pain took over their mind for the umpteenth time that night. Each step a nauseating punch in the gut, knocking the wind out of Villain every time they shuffled, the heat from the plasma gushing out and creating its own steam, much like the criminal’s shaky breath.

Unfortunately this had been the only option, this or risk losing even more blood - as they didn’t have any sort of way to compress their wound to stop the bleeding. The difference between life and death was the endurance of pain, and Villain chose to endure, much as they always had.

The red that had seeped from their wound and stained their clothes hadn’t helped the chill settling into their veins. Just a smidge longer and Villain would at the very least be warm after probably two hours of walking like this. Yes, soon they would be in the arms of a hero, surely they would tend to the wounds, even of a villain.

Blinding lights drew closer, at some point it had started snowing again, Villain couldn’t place when. Their safehouse came into view, they could taste the revolting iron in the back of their throat rising into a cough they had been fighting for the last mile. Just a little further and- wait. No, this wasn’t right. This wasn’t the heroes’ base.

No, fuck, no no no.

There were henchmen guarding the doors like sentries.

Shit, this was Supervillain’s lair. That bastard Sidekick gave them the wrong directions, probably on purpose.

Fuck.

Well, if Villain was going to die anyway, why not make Supervillain at least clean up their body, right?

Somehow their blurred vision led them to the guards, Villain was much more out of it than they thought now that they actually had to focus on something other than ‘left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot-’. The world was spinning, which it did normally, but not like this, not like a goddamn tilt-a-whirl while you’re high on too many edibles. Not in the way that makes you see people’s mouths move but not process a single word, and certainly not in the way that makes you almost laugh when you see how worried these people are as you get closer and stumble into one without feeling it. Not like that at all.

Villain was being held by their arms and helped inside, warm. It was finally fucking warm. Then suddenly it was too fucking hot, and suddenly there was blood and bile erupting from Villain’s mouth, so much that they were choking on it as the guards hoisted them into what looked like a sterile environment. Well, it certainly wasn’t now.

Pain, lots of agonizing and white hot smoldering pain as someone yanked the knife’s hilt out of Villain. Then there was blood, an almost comical amount, and then nothing but inky pitch.

It’s funny how passing out is a lot like dreaming, even when you’re dying. You have lots of thoughts, sometimes you’re almost aware of what's happening on some strange and ethereal level, and sometimes it’s blank until you wake up, or don’t. As something shook Villain’s aching body they almost wanted to ask for 5 more minutes of the bliss of sleep, but the voice they registered as screaming and angry wouldn’t allow that.

“No, what the HELL are they doing here?! You didn’t even bother to run this by me before wasting resources on this lowlife?” The angry voice scoffed, some distant part of Villain recognized it as Supervillain despite their disorientation. Then they were fully awake, haphazardly thrown back into their body with bruising force, and aware of every single pain in their being.

Villain groaned involuntarily as they felt their nausea pick back up with the aches on seemingly every surface. It took every ounce of willpower for them to crack their eyelids open, vision bleary and the room far too radiant with its fluorescence and reflective white tiles.

A resigned, “Fuck.” slid its way past the Supervillain’s lips as they watched the victim open their eyes. They really didn’t want to fucking deal with this, not with their scheduled fight with Superhero being tomorrow. Superhero was enough of a pain in the ass, let alone a lowly villain showing up on their doorstep like they were left by some mysteriously fatal and chaotic stork. They didn’t need this shit right now.

The supervillain turned to their on-duty medic as they pinched the bridge of their nose in annoyance, “Just… Just fucking fix the idiot and give ‘em one of the guest rooms until they’re better, yeah? I’ll deal with this after I kill Superhero tomorrow.” They sighed, walking away before Villain could say anything.

“Yes, your vileness.” The medic relented, returning her attention to the injured villain. Some time had clearly passed, Villain was now patched up and hooked up to an I.V. in the middle of some sort of small medbay. “Can you hear me?” The medic asked, snapping her fingers in front of the injured criminal. “Mmhm.” Villain was just able to mumble out the affirmation.

“Can you speak?” Medic tapped the other’s face lightly, trying to wake them up further.

Villain opened their mouth, tongue sitting like cotton between their teeth, “No.” they replied cheekily. At least they were cognizant enough to joke.

“Alright jester, do you know where you are?” Medic deadpanned, clearly unimpressed.

The question caught Villain off guard, their mind still swimming, still disoriented. Did they know where they were? They seemed to be in a medical facility of some sort, but how did they get here? Wasn’t there another person right here a second ago? Everything in their brain was so wavy, like Villain was in the ocean or on a ship.

They furrowed their brow, “No.” Genuine, this time.

The medic sighed, “You came to the back doors of this building with a stab wound and severe second degree frostbite. You’re clearly a villain by your badge, what’s your name?”

“Villain.”

Clearly the medic hadn’t heard of them before, “Well, Villain, you’re in Supervillain’s lair. I assume you know of Supervillain?”

It dawned on Villain, they remembered their walk over. Supervillain was probably going to torture and gruesomely murder them, if not now then soon. “Oh fuck, kill me.” The criminal threw their head back in defeat.

Medic chuckled lightly, “That’s a yes, I presume. Unfortunately, I have orders to keep you alive for now.” She smiled, trying her best to lighten the mood.

-

Villain’s next two days were painful and painfully boring. Despite Supervillain having copious amounts of money and gorgeously decorated guest rooms, they didn’t have a television or anything to keep Villain’s mind busy. The injured criminal had resorted to calculating Pi in their head as high as they could, and then Fibonacci’s sequence when they hit their mental limit for Pi. Then Lucas series, and whatever other recurrence sequences they could possibly remember. When they woke up on day two they were restless, the medic that came in to check on them was different and didn’t even speak to them at all despite Villain’s complaining.

Thankfully Villain’s wounds were healing well, they checked every time someone came to change their bandages. They were lucky that the frostbite hadn’t caused any permanent nerve damage, and that the knife had only managed to barely knick their stomach and puncture a lung. All around lucky, except for the boredom.

Villain wouldn’t have to worry about that for much longer though, Supervillain had dealt with Superhero, and was planning a visit to their guest today.

~

Might continue this! I have some thoughts about what to do next, but we'll see.

[narrators-journal]

The great escape

oh boy oh boy, it’s here! The sequelette! For those who don’t know, this is a small follow up to my story ‘Inquisitive obsessions’ So if you want the full story, go read that first. This one won’t be overtly Yandere, but I still hope you guys have fun with it.

CW: lotsa pregnancy talk in this one. I’m not that knowledgeable of the topic, so likely gonna have some shoddy parts.

Ever since you had met Illumi, your life had changed forever. You didn't notice it at first, too caught up in being in a relationship to remember seeing him lurking outside your house after a date, or to remember the pair of underwear you'd randomly lost despite seeing them on your bathroom floor right before you went to bed that night. It was only after that brightly colored, card-slinging maniac, who you later found out was named Hisoka, murdered the butlers Illumi had set as your prison guards and then tried to 'introduce himself to you' as if he hadn't just slaughtered other humans like cattle that it finally really set in how deep of trouble you were in. Luckily, you had run to the bathroom as if to throw up and then slipped out of your bathroom window to run for help. Unluckily, Illumi was swift to find you. After that, the 'honeymoon phase' violently ended.

Of course, after kidnapping getting you safely to his family home, Illumi didn't explain anything you asked him about, your life couldn't be that easy, but you had your suspicions that a lot of the weird occurrences you'd been faced with before properly meeting him could be placed at his feet. However, you were in no place to investigate or try to escape. You were taken to the main house, situated in Illumi's bedroom, and almost never alone after that. If Illumi wasn't showering you with gifts, compliments, and cuddles, his mother was eager to befriend you, snatching you up from the halls at the rare times you were permitted to walk the home alone to have tea and tell you all about her plans for you and her son's marriage, or the baby. You hated it, and you were noticeably miserable.

Because of that, Illumi did his best to make you happy, distracting you with talk of baby names, wedding details, your hobbies, anything he could think of to try and make you happy. And it would work for a while, you'd get swept up in his charms and melt into his touch when he cuddled up to you at night, but not too long after, you'd crash again. You'd given up on trying to escape, you'd been driven up to the estate, so you knew how big the mountain was and just how hopelessly trapped you really were, but you would still sob, smack and try to hit the long-haired assassin, and just try to get away from him, even though he never let you leave his sight for fear of 'the baby being harmed.

' As the days passed, you did eventually settle into your predicament, though there was always an intense urge to run if you got the chance. You played along with Kikyo, let Illumi love on you and be excited for the baby, and learned how to not only cope with the fear you now felt towards your 'fiance,' but avoid the brunt of Illumi's manipulative powers, mostly by avoiding looking into his dark, soulless eyes, which would leave you groggy and with static for thoughts. He wasn't a fan of that, but he remained unreadable and cold, never laying a hand on you or showing aggression towards you to avoid stressing you out. He treated you like the world's most fragile porcelain doll because of your pregnancy. That one odd behavior at least got explained though, so that was progress.          "I'm very well trained to fight, so I'm very strong. You...are very much so not." It wasn't much, but considering the most you'd gotten out of him when you'd tried to question him before was some form of topic change, you took it. Either way though, you were thankful that he treated you so delicately, because you didn't want to think of the possible alternatives. On the bright side though, your reluctant acceptance did open up more freedoms to you. Mainly, it was the freedom to talk to a single person outside of the Zoldyck family when Illumi was off on jobs, but once he was home that freedom was taken away again. Thankfully though, that wasn't your only freedom, you also got to go along with a butler to shop in town. Of course, Illumi or Kikyo came with, hovering protectively nearby while you walked the town's shops, getting exercise and socialization under the watchful eye of your fiance or karen-like mother-in-law. Illumi usually spent your time out trailing behind you like a ghost, helping when he felt you couldn't do something alone, but otherwise leaving you to do whatever you needed while always feeling his eyes on you. At the very least, you could somewhat ignore him and maybe even...pretend to be normal while he was being protective, unlike his mother, who would never leave you alone when out, and was all around demanding and very hard to miss. It was a brief reprieve from the insanity, but it was welcome. However, that was just it. A brief escape. Whenever you returned to the car you were reminded that you really had been snatched from your home by your boyfriend and pushed into a marriage you didn't want. Finally though, on a particularly cold late-winter night almost three months after your engagement, as you laid in bed with Illumi, staring at the wall with his arm wrapped securely around your midsection and his forehead resting between your shoulder blades, you decided to try a pretty risky ask. You didn't expect him to agree, but you couldn't deal with him lingering around you anymore. It was worth a shot.          "I-Illumi," you croaked, your voice quiet and almost strangled with anxiety and fear, but you forced yourself onwards after he hummed in acknowledgement, "Tomorrow, could I maybe go out alone? O-or at least only with a butler?" you squeaked, your stomach twisting with nerves as you waited the excruciatingly long moments it took for him to ponder your request and reply with no sign to give away his feelings.          "Why?" He asked, and you were really missing the days where he put feeling into his words. His monotonous, unreadable voice gave you anxiety.         "I..." You took a deep breath to steady your quivering voice, deciding honesty was safest, "I'm still scared of you after you got so aggressive when I told you I was pregnant, and...um, y-your mom is...kinda smothering." Your voice died with each word after 'and', but he still heard you. There was another stretch of silence before he hummed,         "Fine, but if you misbehave in any way on this trip, you won't leave the house for the rest of your pregnancy." He warned, and you didn't need him to emote to know he was deathly serious, so you simply nodded and thanked him before curling up and trying your best to sleep. When morning came, you were sure to be on your best behavior while Illumi arranged a butler to take you into town. You'd only get an hour to do whatever you wanted, but it was maybe your only chance to leave the mountain without the manipulative predator who called himself your fiance breathing down your neck. So, when it finally came time for you to leave, you gave the assassin a kiss on the cheek before you left. With that, you had a long car ride with no looming threat or awkward, prying conversations, just peace, quiet, and a lovely view of trees drifting by outside of the car window along the way. It ended up being so peaceful, that you fell asleep for most of the ride, only waking when the driver hit a bump in the road and jolted you out of your dreams and into a slightly panicked state. Instantly putting you on edge as you expected to be faced with Illumi beside you, watching you blankly, or your mother-in-law trying to feel the small bump beginning to show on your belly for the umpteenth time that day. But, when you opened your (e/c) eyes and gave a frantic scan of the backseat, neither were there. You're safe. They're back at the estate. You told yourself, taking a few deep breaths to slow your thundering heart. You finally had no murderous assassin of any sort nearby. You were 2 hours away from the estate, a total of at least 4 from the main house. You soon realized, you could run. Do you really want to live life in terror? Being used as a broodmare and watching your baby be turned into a small Illumi? The braver, more realistic voice in your head whispered while you watched trees zoom by through the car window, but he's a dangerous man. He found you when you ran the first time, do you think you could get away a second time? And STAY away? the more fearful inner voice piped up, but at the thought of possibly being free that first voice won out. Because of that, you knew in an instant that you were already at a point of no return if you even began this path, but you were also determined to not be trapped in a fearful marriage, watching your child suffer. So, you curled up and covertly unlaced your shoe lace, a small luxury you'd gotten to sooth one of your earlier melt downs about being trapped in such a restrictive relationship, than, you struck. In a flash, you coiled the lace around your hands and looped it over the driver's seat and the butler's throat. You put your foot against the back of the seat and felt hot tears burn your eyes in both terror and instant regret as the car skidded to a halt so the butler could try to fight for his life. However, while the help had been trained to be demons in their own right, you somehow managed to overpower his frantic attempts to free himself with your own frantic, shakey, teary-eyed strength. You were hysterical as you did it, but you  successfully strangled the poor butler after an excruciatingly long time.          "ohgodimsosorry," you wept as you scrambled to the front seat and pushed the body out onto the deserted road, fighting the urge to vomit just yet as you took his place. You then had to scrub your eyes three times before your vision was clear enough for you to drive, but even after calming down a bit, your breaths were still raking through your chest, and you could already feel a headache coming from the intensity of your sobs as you drove into the town and repeatedly plead for forgiveness for the murder. However, when you found a bus stop, you scraped up your composure and did your best to hide just how distraught you were. Luckily, the clerk was an angel, getting you a ticket for free when they saw just how dishevelled and snivelling you were, deducing correctly that you needed help and doing their best to assist. So, you got a cup of water and clutched your ticket like a child protecting their lollipop from a greedy sibling, settled inside and out of view to await the bus and calm down. That was when you got the call. The phone ringing sent an icy hot bolt of primal terror through your body, but you bit that back and went ahead and answered it with shaking hands, (e/c) eyes blurring with tears again when you heard the sickly familiar indifferent voice on the other end of the line,           "(y/n)," Illumi said, not even sounding pissed, just slightly bored, as if he'd expected this. "I understand you are scared about all of the changes and are somewhat sensitive right now, but I cannot let you leave. Please return home before I have to come collect you." Just like that, the rabid courage that gave you that first push of determination was wiped away like a leaf in a tornado. After all, it was so much easier to make an escape when Illumi wasn't looming over you, but now that he was talking to you, knowing damned well what you were up to, you had the powerful urge to burst into tears and drive back to the Zoldyck estate. No! This is the exact reason you were such easy prey for him in the first place! that courageous voice pointed out, essentially slapping some sense into you as you swallowed your sobs and those submissive urges, this is your one chance! if you go back, he's never going to leave you alone for a SECOND. Run! This is your only chance! With that last point, you gulped down breaths, steeling your nerves before speaking at last          "No." You croaked, your voice barely a whisper, but you still sensed the switch in Illumi's mood when he heard,              "(y/n). Come home. Right. Now. You won't like it if I have to come and get you." he said, his voice finally changing from flat and bored, to dripping with a threat as his mask cracked and his anger slipped through so clearly you could almost feel him grabbing you by the throat, but you saw your bus beginning to load, so you had to make a snap judgement as quickly as Illumi's emotional outburst passed and he returned to indifference.             "Listen, I'm trying my best to not be terrifying or anything, but I'd be a horrible hu-" You hung up on him and tossed the phone out of the window once you'd gotten onto the bus and it had begun the journey down the road. Something about that single, simple action felt more like throwing one of your shackles out of the window instead of a phone.

[celedyn]

DWC - Day 7 - Soul

“Alvak, what’s this new death insurance policy you’re proposing for the employee handbook?” Celedyn turned the page on its side, tilting his head to match as though perhaps the words would make more sense when viewed vertically. “Ah! That’s the big new deal! You know, they’ve got that whole problem with the Shadowlands now? The one that’s dumpin’ dead people right into the maw?” Celedyn eschewed the squat little chair and instead seated himself directly on the goblin’s desk, letting himself sprawl across the broad surface to drop closer to Alvak’s eye level. “Yes, I did hear about that. You know, I actually met one of those Kyrian? I proposed that they should perhaps have considered not just continuing to drop unjudged souls directly into the maw; maybe stash them somewhere else, or maybe just collectively all take a break and letting them haunt about for a while and she nearly looked like she was going to vomit and ran off for some sort of cleansing ritual. They don’t let me meet Kyrian any more, which honestly is such a waste of perfectly good enormous men with broad shoulders and sturdy thighs and—“ “AND YEAH THAT’S RIGHT there’s the problem where the people keep getting dropped in. Folks get scared enough of death, but gettin’ told you’re just going to be dumped on some kind a’ endless plane of torment’s got them outright terrified. So I got this cousin, whole warlock thing, yeah? You know the deal. But here’s the thing, his minion went and got itself maimed, and the thing hasn’t some back yet. Something about Argus and the Nether and whatever, I didn’t pay that much attention. But the thing is he can’t use that— you know that demon link they got to empower himself.” “Alvak pleaaaase tell me that you aren’t proposing he eats their souls instead of them going to maw! I’m quite sure people would rather take their chances if the alternative is getting— are they actually eaten? People say devoured and I sort of pictured—“ “No, no it’s not like that! He’s got this thing he can do, where he can pull a person’s soul outta their body and kind of… put it somewheres else for safekeeping.” “Like a Lich?” “No, not like a Lich! You take their soul outta their body and put it somewheres for safekeeping.” “Like a Lich!” “No it’s— Look, I dunno how it’s different, but it’s different! He takes ‘em out and he stores ‘em and it’s fine. Now picture this, he takes your soul out for a nominal fee? Leases some nice, safe, secure storage for it at a reasonable market rate? Now you get crushed by a rock or whatever, it’s no problem! I mean it’s some problem, but it’s not the maw problem!” Celedyn wrinkled his nose as the thought the prospect over, manicured nails drumming on the desktop with a distinct series of clicks “Ohh, I don’t know, kitten; what would that even do with the Cartel’s death and dismemberment policy? You know it’s been years and people are still trying to file appeals on which way interest should be accrued for life insurance payouts if the tragic event takes place at an earlier point in the timeline than when their employment contract was signed… besides, I feel like it can’t be healthy to have your soul off galivanting somewhere else or everyone would do it.” “Lotsa people do it! And lots more are gonna do it once this policy goes live, you’ll see. You know, you should get in on this; space is gonna be limited.” The high elf wafted a hand as though dissipating the idea like smoke “Oh, no, I’ll be fine. I have extensive practice in not dying, I don’t intend on starting any time soon… And besides, if I do die, I have received a very enthusiastic offer from a particularly gorgeous Death Knight to raise me as a ghoul!” “…. HOW THE FUCK IS THAT BETTER?”

@daily-writing-challenge

[vile-bile-lizard]

Oh I forgot I have a story some might enjoy >:3cc

CW: needles / Blood draw (only mentioned), anxiety, nearly fainting, Lotsa nausea but not vom (sorry 😞)

-

-

-

sO a while ago I had to get my blood drawn for some tests. I was pretty nervous since it had been a really really long time since the first and only other time I had blood taken from me. Because of this I didn’t drink any water, too anxious and all that... Which is a horrible idea on top of being forced to fast.

Fast forward, i’m sitting in the weird lil chair trembling and laughing/smiling through chattery teeth. After a very.. difficult time finding a vein and having to go for one in my hand, I start feeling just.. off I’m too hyperfocused on what the dr is doing, feeling it, and suddenly i’m hearing “you look really pale” all muffled.

Suddenly it hits really hard. My head is spinning as my eyes squeeze shut, I feel so hot and so cold, it sounds like someone stuffed cotton in my ears and i’m barely registering every other word spoken to me... I press my clammy face into the person with me, trying to take deep breaths but the icky feeling is only getting worse. And then my stomach starts to churn. “Stop.. I f-feel wrong.” I’m told just a few more moments.. “Please, no more, really.” I’m told we have to finish filling the vial. “I feel sick..” Finally, things are moving. An alcohol swab is being held under my nose. I haven’t opened my eyes but after a few moments I shove the swab away, mouth now full of thick saliva as my stomach cramps. “m gonna vomit” I’m brought a trashcan and instantly grab the side, my hands shaking so fucking much.. The trashcan is full of alcohol swabs and the smell of rubbing alcohol burns with every forceful deep breath I take. I spit a mouthful of nausea drool into the trashcan and the dr, who is helping hold the can for me, rubs my shoulder and says “Get it out, c’mon” I shake my head at him cause ‘no, I don’t wanna, you’re watching and I don’t like vomiting’ but i’m too busy battling the nausea to risk what might happen if I open my mouth and try to speak.

I honestly.. got really close to throwing up. I could taste the faint acidic burn at the back of my throat and I was salivating up a storm. The waves of nausea just kept getting worse and worse, but... nothing ever came. After throwing such a big fit, my stomach settled and I sniffled at the now drippy snot in my nose. They brought me a cold water and I wasn’t allowed up until I drank the majority of it, which my still slightly rocky tummy wasn’t completely happy with at first.

As icky as it was in the moment... I didn’t waste any time laughing about it right after.

[ironmansuuucks]

Dewey Dewey Dewey

haii and welcome to my soft dewey finn fic. this is mostly just a wee fluffy drabble that i wrote for myself and wanted to share hehe. this is my first time writing dewey fic so please, feedback is always welcome!! warning though, lil bit of smut at the end! enjoy, lotsa love x 

p.s this is my fave gif e v e r and always how i imagine dew looking 

Dewey Finn x Reader (smut)

Trudging up those stairs to your apartment felt as though it was never going to end. Every step felt heavy and painful. The fact that you got called into work on a Saturday due to the big case you had been assigned to made you want to vomit. Work? Saturday? Those were two words that should not be put together when you work a Monday to Friday, full time job. Yeah you were grateful for the student graduate traineeship with the most prestigious law firm in the state, not to mention getting put on the most notorious case of the year with the best attorney in the country, but working Saturday’s? That sucked.

As you struggled with the key in the door and pushed it open with your shoulder, all you could think about was your boyfriend, Dewey. Just snuggling up in to his warm embrace, both holding creamy coffees with a movie on in the background, neither of you really paying attention to it but rather just one another. Then being able to crawl under the cold duvet together, warming one another up. Your stress levels almost vanished just at the thought, until you were pulled back to reality when you shouted “Dew?” with no reply, closing the door and looking down to see only one pair of tattered converse sitting next to the door; your own. Moving over to sit your bags on the kitchen counter you tried again “de-“ when you remembered the text message you had opened in that meeting, when you weren’t supposed to, that you had forgotten about: “hey baby, I hope your day isn’t too stressful. Its just to let u know that I’m going to head out to that gig with the guys tonight, shouldn’t be too late, hope your day is quick, love ya x”.

Your whole body felt heavy and achy when you remembered the text. You sighed deeply, whining, and pulled out your phone replying to him: “hey hon, okay have fun – looking forward to seeing you, love you more x”.

The clock read 7:30. The gig would probably last a few hours so half ten/11 was when you could expect him home. Tears welled in your eyes. That was almost four hours you had to mope around until he came home. You rubbed your wet eyes with your cold hands and let out another sigh thinking of ways to pass the time. First, a quick microwave meal for dinner, then a scalding hot bubble bath with a glass of wine and finally some fresh pyjamas, that would consist of one of Dewey’s band t-shirt’s from the laundry he had done earlier.

“Alexa… play planet rock”

 * * * * * *

 The clock now read 10:45. You lathered on moisturiser up your legs to your waist for not wanting your skin to get dry after the bath, with having water that would blow up hell’s thermostat, and so you would feel soft when Dewey finally laid his hands on you. He loved the feeling of your skin after you bathed and moisturised, so soft and smooth, running his hands all over you. You slipped on Dewey’s Led Zeppelin t-shirt that just covered your ass, and a pair of black lingerie panties, it was Saturday night after all. You had boiled the kettle and sorted both your cups for a creamy coffee when he got back and you stood in the kitchen waiting for him to arrive so you could pour them.

You clicked on your phone. Just after 11. Maybe it’s run over time. You huffed and went and sat on the couch, pressing on the tv. Waiting here for him would be alright. You could still see the door from where you were sitting. You glanced over at the TV which was playing one of yours and Dewey’s favourite movies; Tropic Thunder. You just couldn’t wait for him to get home and cuddle him, a long loving kiss planted on your lips. You could almost feel his hands running up your waist, soothing you with every movement, stress leaving your body. Oh hurry up Dew.

Distracted by Tropic Thunder playing on the tv, you had no idea how long you had sat on the couch, your eyes painfully tired. Yawning, you got up to get your phone to check the time. It must only be around 11:30 you thought. Rubbing your eyes and walking over to the counter you picked up your phone. The clock read 00:11. Were you really sat watching the movie for that long? Where the hell was Dewey? You had no text messages from him, no missed calls, what the hell. No gig you had ever been to ran over 10:30, 11 at the latest. Wondering if maybe he had put up stories you went to snapchat. Dewey had a story up but last added to it at 10:15 which was of the concert. The next story you clicked on was his friend Louie’s, and this is where you got your answer. A few videos of the concert, then of Dewey making fun of himself in the middle of the street, attempting to jump over a bollard but failing and falling at 11:16, then of Dewey doing three shots in a row with another one of his pals at 00:02 in a bar, and then finally one of Dewey singing his heart out to Come on Eileen at 00:10. Upon closing down Louie’s story you got a snapchat from Dewey; a video of him singing Come on Eileen to you through his phone with Ned appearing a few times at the side singing with him. The bar was heaving and very dark with strobe lights illuminating Dewey’s tipsy looking face. You couldn’t stop the tears that ran down your face even though you were smiling at Dewey’s video. You just wanted him home. You were glad he was out having a good night with his friends, but you selfishly wanted him to come home and spend the night with you.

You huffed and wiped your eyes, locking your phone and not replying to his video. You were annoyed now. You knew you had no right because he was just out having a good night, but he could have text you and let you know what he was doing, but you knew you were just feeling sorry for yourself really. The apartment was cold and you got a shiver as you headed into your bedroom when you got another snapchat from him. You huffed again knowing he was having a great night and you were sat here waiting for him to come home. This time it was a video of himself singing your favourite song Don’t Stop Believing then at the end he pulled the phone closer to him and shouted “I love you” over the painfully loud music. He stared at the screen for a second, doe-eyed and glazed over with a little smirk on his face. You knew he was thinking about you. Then he looked up and was about to start talking to someone when the video cut off.

This again put you in a bad mood and tears kept coming down your face. You were just tired, and you weren’t really annoyed at him; you just missed him.

Pulling the cold covers over your worn out body, you just decided to go to sleep. It might take hours for him to come home, and sometimes they would have afters at one of his friends houses, and if that was the case you probably wouldn’t see him until mid-day Sunday. Now that thought put you in an even worse mood so you did not dwell on that one. Closing your red, sore eyes and burying yourself in the covers left you sleeping within a few seconds. The long day left you exhausted and it was late after all. You would see him soon.

 * * * * * *

  Stumbling through the door at 3:45 am, Dewey kicked off his tattered converse at the door next to yours. Trying to be quiet as he knew you had had a stressful day, he gently closed the door then went to get a glass of water. Everything felt loud and clumsy in his tipsy haze. He necked the water down in one before seeing the two coffee cups on the counter waiting for some attention. Dewey felt soft at the sight and couldn’t wait to have a lazy Sunday morning with his girlfriend, drinking unlimited amounts of the sweet, sugary, caffeinated beverage.

He swayed his way into the bedroom, some 80’s rock song leaving his lips in whispers, while his ears still had a faint ring in them from the events of the night. He saw your sleeping posture on the bed and the singing came to a halt as he made an “oh shit” face for being too loud, even though you were still sleeping, as he made his way to the EnSite bathroom.

Changing into a pair of star wars pyjama bottoms and a different ACDC t-shirt he popped his toothbrush in his mouth but knocked over the brush that was on the bathroom counter. “Fuck” he mouthed as he picked it up then bent backwards to look out the bathroom to make sure you were still asleep, which you were. He sighed with relief, brushed his teeth then went to lie next to you in bed.

Dewey could already smell your moisturiser when he pulled the cover over him and began to scoot over to you. You were facing the other direction to him, but when he moved closer to you and then put his hands up your t-shirt smoothing over your waist you stirred slightly and turned round to face him, still asleep. He could only just make out your features from the street light seeping into the room and you looked so beautiful. Again he glided his hand up and down your waist, basking in how soft and warm your skin was. His hands then smoothed down to the band of your lingerie and he suddenly felt warm. Moving his hand down further to lightly grab your ass, he didn’t want to wake you up but you just felt so good and the smell of your shampoo was really getting to him, drowning him. You moaned slightly in your sleep when you felt him on your ass, which only bothered him even more. He squirmed slightly, beginning to feel uncomfortable in the stillness of the atmosphere.

“Hey.. hey y/n” he whispered, one hand holding you just above your ass at the small of your back and the other stroking your hair. You stirred again and moved even closer to him intertwining your leg with his. “y/n” he slightly sang then very lightly kissed you on your soft, creamy lips. Your eyes slowly began to open and the first thing you noticed was the strong smell of drink. Then you realised; Dewey.

You allowed him to kiss you, still in a bit of a bad mood “what time do you call this Finn?” you said very sleepily closing your eyes again, your face showing no emotion or movement. Dewey slowly moved his leg between yours parting them and pushing up lightly, causing a lot of friction. Suddenly you felt a heat rise in you, and held in a little moan that almost escaped your lips at the movement. Dewey moved to kiss down your jaw and neck, pushing his leg a little bit more along you, hands gliding up to your waist “what do you mean?”. You moved your neck up slightly, allowing him access, and ever so lightly dragged your nails up his back heading towards his hair, “you’ve been gone for hours, I was expecting you around half ten after the gig?”. Your fingers were now at the nape of his neck and beginning to intertwine with his hair. Dewey sucked on your lower neck, for sure leaving a sweet little mark “I knew you would have had a stressful day-“ he began moving back up towards your jaw as his hand crept further up your ribs, nearing your chest when you ever so slightly moaned. He continued “so I decided to go out with the guys after and let you have a chilled night in yourself to destress, not have me kicking about annoying you”. Any of that selfish little anger you held towards him dropped after he spoke those words. He wanted you to be alone for the night because he thought it would help you. Your body rolled towards him then, arching your back so you were almost up against him. “and then I come home, and find you here, looking as though I could drink you up, with those-“ he moved his hand to snap the band of your lingerie panties against your skin “on, which you know drive me wild” he said with a long sigh afterwards. Dewey lifted his head, eyes looking at you lustfully. You slowly batted your eyes a few times, looked down at his lips then back up at him. How did you get so lucky?

“Yeah? Well unfortunately your little plan didn’t work. I’m still pretty stressed out” you teased, moving to kiss him. “Yeah?” he said smirking into the kiss. “Yeah” you replied breathily as his one of his hands moved down to your hips and the other fondled your nipple under the Led Zeppelin t-shirt. “well I cant have that now can I?” Dewey’s hand moved further down your leg and lightly pushed them apart “I cant have my best girl being left all stressed out” his finger teased you. Lightly gliding over your wet panties as you moaned into his neck. Dewey slid down lightly and lifted you’re t-shirt up, swirling his tongue around your nipple “let’s see if we can relieve some of that stress, huh baby”. You breathed in heavily as you felt him move your panties to the side and slip a finger into you as you laced your fingers in his hair with a light moan. After a few moments Dewey added another finger, slowly pushing in and out of you “ugh, deeper Dew” you moaned out. As if on command Dewey pushed further up into you, hitting that spot that sent you wild. The combination of Dewey’s rough, calloused fingers pumping in and out of you and his smooth, skilful tongue meant you weren’t going to last very long. You were stressed, and needed release so you were going to take it whether it took 2 minutes or two hours without a care, and within a few minutes you were a moaning mess, breathlessly moaning his name. “that’s it baby, you’re doing so good” he would push you on. Rolling your hips ever so slightly made Dewey hit a spot he never had which pushed you over the edge “ah fuck Dew-“. He could feel you beginning to clench around him so he pushed further, keeping a hold of that spot “that’s it baby, cum for me”, and boy did you.

After your release you felt as though the moment you closed your eyes you would fall asleep. He was right, you were stressed and that’s exactly what you had needed to finally relax. Dewey came back up to you and you kissed him “thank you so much”, you said through lidded eyes. “I love you” he said as he kissed you back, pulling your t-shirt back down for you, and smoothing it over with his hand. “I love you too” you said sleepily. You reached down to begin to palm him through the fabric of his bottoms to which Dewey moaned into. After a few rubs you moved your hand to the waistband of his pyjama bottoms but he stopped you, and pulled away from the kiss. “No baby, you’re too tired – I just wanted to make sure you were okay”, you slightly argued back trying to move your hand down again “no come on, I want to”. Your eyes were closed as you went to kiss him again sleepily but he stopped you and intertwined his fingers with yours to stop you, “no, come on y/n. You’re too tired and I want you to get a decent night sleep so you’re not as stressed tomorrow”. You were going to protest but he was right. You sighed, and then he kissed you. One of those slow, meaningful, love filled kisses and you fell asleep once he parted from you.

Dewey held you close to him, hoping he had managed to make you feel better. He hated to see you all stressed out like this but he was so so so proud of you. He was your biggest fan and he wanted to be the one you came home to when you needed someone to talk to, and to hold you, make you feel safe.

He kissed your forehead lightly then drifted off to sleep with his girl safe in his arms, stress free.

[snail-speed]

Hmm so a friend pointed out to me that this post I reblogged was very much made by the OP in bad faith (I thought it was poorly worded, but they're notoriously... obnoxious and mean-spirited, and by that I mean exclusionist and really vocal about it).

I guess I was kinda projecting a bit because I tend to word things really, really bad, but I don't argue in bad faith, so I just assume others are in the same boat as me when they word stuff notoriously wrong. But yeah no that post isn't trying to raise a nuanced discussion.

So here are my takes, which I do actually want to present in good faith:

I do generally like it when small servers (or medium ones that veer on the smaller side) have a blacklist/are careful about triggers. Thankfully it seems that OP agrees with this (shame they can't agree on being a decent person).

From my personal experience, having trigger blacklists becomes an issue in these four specific scenarios:

The server is really big (like 50+ members) and it's not a server dedicated to mental health or the type of triggers one has. Nobody can reasonably keep in mind the triggers of dozens, if not hundreds, of people in the server. It ends up with either a forgetful/apathetic userbase that doesn't spoiler anything except the "basic" triggers, or a server where every user is walking on eggshells.

Forcing newcomers to list their triggers. This I've seen in person (I immediately dipped when I saw it). Some people would rather not describe what triggers them to strangers and that's perfectly valid. That's not to say making them list triggers is done out of malice, but it can be a huge breach of privacy to a lot of people (and depending on how specific the triggers are, they can reveal a lot about oneself).

Listing triggers specific to a topic of which the server you're in is all about. Let's say, for example, you're triggered by a classic anime from the 90's, so you ask people to spolier it... in a server dedicated to classic 90's anime. You're not in the wrong for having a trigger, but you're setting yourself up for failure/misery by surrounding yourself with what triggers you. If you want to participate in spaces where most of the topics are bothersome, it's genuinely a good idea to take some time off and work with a therapist about it. Some people can miraculously rid themselves of triggers and phobias, but this is a really rare occurence, don't assume you can do it too.

Posting small servers with blacklists in public repositories. This is not really an issue with the blacklists per se, but having public invites for those servers is just asking for trouble. Discord has an issue of having dedicated raiding communities and a lot of people get kicks of entering servers and "trolling" the people there. Having your triggers listed in a server that can be accessed easily by bad actors can lead to some very nasty things, and depending on how bad your triggers are the results can range from "this sucks" to "this is causing me a mental breakdown".

I am definitely not in favor of getting rid of safe spaces altogether. They do have a place, and in small servers I very much enjoy sharing my experiences and what I'd rather people not show me.

If I had to describe my take consicely, it'd be: Be careful when you share sensitive information with others. The examples I listed are really rare occurences, but they do happen and I've seen two of them firsthand.

If your triggers and/or phobias are so strong and/or numerous to the point you need extremely specific and heavily-curated safe spaces, it's just better for you to seek professional help than endure the very real possibility of people triggering you on accident. This is not me going "haha weak you have lotsa triggers ooh", I say this because I can relate. For the longest time I had very debilitating emetophobia (I don't anymore), even the mention of a word relating to vomiting gave me a panic attack. I didn't get better until I was diagnosed with panic disorder and given medication.

[paperpocalypse]

1/2 Thanks soo much for the feedback n putting up w the spam 😊 I figured the power reveal could be during the alley meetup to prove she's on their side by giving five more time (same result w no one else making it tho) and so they're solidified as partners. I also wanna focus on the dynamic kinda shifting from being comfortable w fighting and working together before five's body ages (probs around 25-30 so his siblings age max) and their snarky teasing isnt so platonic anymore

2/2 also yes the sparrow academy leaves so much room to develop a whole canon divergence au featuring lots of working together. again thanks so much for putting up w all of this word vomit 🥰

the alley scene would be awesome! that would definitely affect five’s perspective on reader as she’s trying to prove which side she’s on, given that her action is directly against the handler and probably commission protocol, she’s revealing one of her biggest advantages over him and his siblings, and she’s helping his family which is a plus in his book — though maybe he’d still want to hold onto some suspicion, being five, and considering what happened with lila. and yeah that shifting of their dynamic will be interesting! i imagine that it won’t be very easy for either of them, lotsa stuff to grapple with. slow burn i LOVE it

(ps talking abt writing fics is like one of my favorite things, so thank YOU anon :D

[antiquechampagne]

Antique Champagne - CH39 - Turning Up the Heat

Payne was surprised the man sitting across the table was not sweating bullets, given both herself and Fahrenheit were glaring menacingly at him. The ease with which he sat and talked, confidently expounding each chem he pulled individually from an oversized cooler placed at his heels, spoke to his gift for words that rivaled Hancock’s in pure effortless charisma. The idiom ‘selling maple syrup to a Canuck’ stuck in Payne’s head, even though she hated that prewar turn of phrase.

Payne studied his travel-stained clothes and honeyed words, searching for anything out of place or ingenuine. From his hole-riddled boots to messily patched trench coat, he seemed every bit the road-weary trader he claimed to be… even if no one had ever seen him before.

“So, Bryan,” Hancock rested his chin on his fist, surveying the goods laid before him. “You’ve got a decent range of chems here, both medicinal and recreational, but why should Goodneighbor strike a deal with you? You must be pretty new to these parts. I’ve never heard of you. Who exactly are you selling for? What makes these chems better than what we can make ourselves?”

Bryan grinned, a wide shit eating smile. “Listen to this guy!” he turned as if to joke with Fahr, who was having none of it. “Who am I selling for?! Who am I selling for?” He leaned forward on his elbows. “I am selling for you! From what I hear, you guys are hurting for chems. We wouldn’t want a real shortage to make waves in this good-ol’ party town. Second, my supplier is an up an’ comer in the chem trade but the eggheads got lotsa ideas, shit that is bleeding edge!” He darted his eyes around the room. “Things like this little baby right here…” He pulled a Jet canister out of a pocket, but this one had a light-yellow band circumscribed around the dusty red canister.

“This ain’t your momma’s Jet!” He placed it down on the table before the Mayor. “And don’t mistake this for your everyday Ultrajet, either. It’s something brand new.” Hancock picked up the palm-sized inhaler, inspecting it as the man prattled on. “This little lady doesn’t even have a name yet, that’s how new she is… but she’s got a smoother, longer high than anything else out there. Great for blasting through those tough patches in life, if you know what I mean.” Hancock shook it next to his ear, listening to the liquid inside before setting it down on the table.

Bryan leaned back, spreading his arms wide on the back edge of the couch. “Now, I won’t say the formula is perfect yet, it’s got a nasty aftertaste… and it’s difficult to produce. That’s why I only have a few canisters ready for sale… but I’m the only one in the whole Commonwealth who has any. In fact, you are the first person I’ve had the pleasure of showing her to.”

“So no one else in the ‘Wealth has tried it?” Hancock pointedly asked, a naked brow arching.

“Like I said… no one outside the lab has any idea that she even exists.” Bryan absently twirled a strand of his long greasy hair. Payne wondered if he had found a cache of hair grease somewhere and slathered his head with every jar, given how saturated his hair looked. At least, she hoped it was some product and not something else.

The Mayor picked up the chem, quizzically examining it again. “I only let in chems I’ve personally tested.”

“Sure thing, boss… you can have my whole supply,” he leaned in and stuck out a hand, “If we have a deal.”

Hancock eyed him over once before grinning, shaking his right hand while keeping the new chem with his left. The deal struck, the inhaler quickly found its way to his lips and he took a generous hit. Immediately he coughed.

“Damn, that tastes like ass!” he spat.

“Told you it needs some work in the flavor department. Just give’er a moment.”

Hancock’s grimace turned to a gradual light, smirk as he sunk back into the couch cushions. “There it is…” With a little chuckle he turned to Fahr. “Fahr, can you take our new friend downstairs and work out the details, please. Clear my schedule, this little lady and I are going to need some time to get intimately acquainted.”

Fahr nodded, motioning to the door.

Bryan gestured to the cache of chems on the table. “I’ll just leave these here, if you don’t mind. I’m sure they will find a good home.” He got up and followed Fahr out the door.

“You going to be okay, Boss?” Payne asked.

“Oh yeah, I’m going to be just fine. I think I’m going to retire for a bit.” He stood up and started to walk across the hall to his bedroom. “Why don’t you avail yourself to the shower? Get all freshened up after last night. The hot water should do you some good.”

Payne was about to decline, but she realized that he was right. The night had been particularly stressful. A hot shower would indeed help ease her nerves.

“You know, that does sound good,” she agreed.

With a tip of his hat, Hancock disappeared into his bedroom.

Back in her room, Payne gathered the things she needed to shower. She picked up each item almost robotically. Clothes. Towel. Hairbrush. Toothpaste. On her way back upstairs, something started to take shape on the edges of her mind. As she closed the creaking door, a thought niggled in the shadows of the bathroom mirror. She stared silently at her reflection as she let her hair down and stripped to her tank top. The constant lazy drip from the makeshift showerhead hitting the galvanized water trough turned tub grated her nerves.

What is it? She frowned at herself. Focusing, she reran meeting Bryan through her mind. He easily schmoozed with everyone, seemingly completely at ease in a place he had never been. Granted, Goodneighbor tended to be a welcoming place, given you did not underestimate the inherent danger of the town. But that wasn’t it. She moved on to the end of the deal.

In her mind Bryan sat there, cool as a mutfruit, shaking the Mayor’s hand full of smiles and twirling his greasy hair. His eyes followed Hancock, never leaving him, his fingers twisting his hair. They didn’t stop until the Jet inhaler left his lips.

He was nervous! He wanted… needed… to see Hancock to take a hit.

WHY?

Unnerved, Payne turned and padded across the hall. She didn’t know the why, but she had to tell Hancock about this. As she reached up to knock on the peeling wooden door, she heard a crash.

“Boss?”

Nothing.

“Hancock?” Payne pushed open the door. There, on the floor, she saw Hancock laying face down in a crumpled heap. Before she could move, the first thing to hit her was the smell, a wall of putrid fruit.

“JOHN!”

Rushing to his side, she turned him over, finding him covered in frothy purple-tinged vomit, his eyes rolled back in his skull. Even through his long coat, she could feel the heat radiating off him. Immediately she began stripping him out of what clothes she could, sweat pooling and dripping down his clammy scalding skin.

“I NEED SOME HELP UP HERE!” she called out. His shirt and coat removed, she picked him up. He was too hot, almost boiling alive in his skin. She had to get him cool. As she reached the hallway, she heard boots pounding up the stairs, two watchmen racing up.

She issued ordered without halting her steps. “You: don’t let that dealer leave. You: get Amari. NOW!”

Payne crossed into the bathroom and gently put the unconscious ghoul on the floor, his limbs twitching sporadically. “Stay with me, John,” she whispered.

She turned the shower with the cold water on full blast, carrying Hancock’s overheating body under the stream. Quickly, Payne realized that his lifeless figure could easily slip under the water. Pulling him on top of her, she slid into the tub, holding him under the icy-cold water and his head up and away from the spray. Repositioning her own tense body slightly, Payne sat in such a way to occlude the drain, causing the water level to begin to rise up the sides of the trough.

Payne didn’t hear the footsteps over the gushing showerhead. Luckily, Dr. Amari’s distinctive infuriated voice preceded her.

“What are you doing?” she demanded as she stepped through the bathroom’s threshold.

“Something’s wrong. He’s burning up, bad,” Payne answered.

Sliding to her knees next to the tub, Amari quickly examined Hancock. She recoiled slightly as Hancock started to shake before releasing another deluge of fragrant vomit.

“He sampled some kind of new Jet.” Payne struggled to keep her employer’s head from slipping under the spray, her extremities starting to go numb for the cold.

Amari nodded. “This appears to be escalating quickly. We need to stop his body from reacting to whatever is causing this, or there will be nothing left to save.” Her face was grim. “Addictol. Where is it?”

As succinctly as she could, Payne described the location of Hancock’s reserve stash of the powerful anti-addiction drug. Returning with the innocuous looking inhaler, Amari again kneeled beside the soaking wet pair.

“I’m going to need you to assist.” Payne nodded. Amari readied the canister. “Hold his head still and cover his sinuses as best you can. We need to keep as much of this in his system as we can.” She grimaced. “The body’s reaction is going to be immediate, possibly violent.”

Payne adjusted her grip, steadying herself for what was to come. She had never seen the results of a dose of Addictol, but she knew its reputation. Amari’s warning proved prudent; the inhaler was barely out of his mouth when fierce muscle spasms wracked Hancock’s body, causing him to thrash wildly in the metal tub. In short order, his body, aided by the drug, began expelling anything foreign in his system via the fastest route.

Once the worst was over, Amari checked his vitals again. She reached over and turned the water off, his fever breaking. Nearly without words, the two worked in unison to strip Hancock out of his sodden and soiled clothes, laying him on the bathroom floor. Payne wrapped him in the towel and clothes she had brought for her own shower, looking to Amari for guidance.

“He’s not out of the woods yet. I need to examine him more thoroughly. Who knows what kind of damage may have already been done.”

Payne thought for a moment. “Go. Have whoever is nearby hold open every door from here to the Den. Tell people to stay out of the way. I’ll give you a minute’s head start. After that, I’m getting him to you as fast as I can.” Payne would get Hancock to Amari’s lab and she didn’t give a shit about anything or anybody in between.

Amari nodded and left. Silently, Payne counted, shivering and dripping in the claustrophobic bathroom. Nothing about Hancock’s prone body changed as she finished. Gently, she lifted him off the floor, securely holding his warm body against hers before sprinting full bore down the stairs and into the street. The town passed by her in a blur.

Bursting through the open doors of the Memory Den, Payne stopped just feet from Irma who let out a small gasp. She had been pacing behind the doctor when Payne appeared holding a nearly naked Hancock.

“Down here,” Amari commanded, not skipping a beat. Payne followed her down into the basement. As she walked, she tried her best to ignore the blisters and cracks flowering on her uncovered face and shoulders. It was a strange sensation; her clothes were still icy cold from the water but the sunburn seared across her skin.

As Amari opened the door, she motioned to a large couch along the wall. “Put him here while I get the machine ready.”

From in front of a terminal, Curie’s shining white chassis whirled around. “Oh, mon Dieu! What has happened?”

“That is what we are going to find out.” Amari stated. “I may need your assistance. Your knowledge of organic chemistry and drug synthesis may come in very handy soon, but right now, I need to examine Hancock.”

“Of course!” Curie buzzed optimistically. “I will go and procure appropriate accommodations for Monsieur Hancock.”

Payne stepped back, allowing the doctor to work. Amari toiled away swiftly calibrating some contraption while taking fastidious notes as she went over the events that lead to Payne discovering Hancock on the floor. Payne’s heart seemed like it would burst through her chest. She felt completely useless, standing idly in the corner, relegated to only watching and waiting. The only time she could help was when Amari asked her to move Hancock to the glass covered lounger so she could examine his brain activity. The very thought that something might have damaged his brain made Payne internally recoil.

Soon Curie returned with Irma and Kent in tow. The pair managed to manhandle an old hospital gurney down the stairs and into the room. The time seemed to move agonizingly slow, especially since Payne could do nothing to help.

After a while, Amari took notice. “We can take it from here, Payne. There’s not much for you to do for now.” Payne didn’t move. Amari put down her clipboard. “Payne?”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Payne stated very matter-of-factly.

Amari rubbed the bridge of her nose. After a moment, she motioned to a folding chair resting in the corner. “At least sit down. We need to work on him.”

Taking the hint, Payne walked over. Just before she reached out, she heard heavy boots on the stairs and turned around defensively. Rushing through the door, Fahrenheit looked around, her stony face etched with stress.

“Doctor.” Her address Amari was more of a demand than a greeting.

“I don’t know anything yet. I’ll update you as soon as I can.”

“That dealer? Did you find him? What did he say?” Payne asked.

“Of course, I found him.” She angrily scoffed. “I found him in an alley after he decided to eat a 38 from his own pistol, the slimy fucker.”

Payne’s thought shifted. “Anything on him? Could you tell where he came from?”

“Like what? You think was he carrying a fucking calling card? He had jack squat.”

“What about the caravan guards?”

“They are detained, but they say they were hired from Bunker Hill. We’ll double check if that is true.”

Payne digested the info. “Make sure to gather up any of the chems this guy had. Lock’em up and post a guard. We have no idea if any or all of the chems are contaminated with something. We don’t need any townsfolk to carry some off. The doctor will need some for testing too.”

“Good thinking!” Curie piped up. “It would be extremely advantageous to be able to test any substances that may have been administered to Monsieur Hancock that lead to this condition.”

Fahr nodded in agreement. She looked expectantly to Payne.

“You wanna get going on that?” Fahr urged, pointing with her thumb to the door.

“No.” Payne stated simply. Payne stood and crossed her arms.

“What?”

“I’m not leaving him.”

Fahr rolled her eyes. “You have got to be fucking kidding me. Take a hike. That’s not a suggestion.”

Payne stayed rooted in place. She may as well have been welded to the floor. “No. I’m not letting him out of my sight. Not until he’s up and around again.”

Fahr started to argue, but it was Amari who cut in. “Payne, we have no idea what kind of shape his brain is in, let alone the rest of his body. With the Addictol coursing through him, we can’t even administer a Stimpak. Whatever his recovery might look like, it is going to be a long one.”

“Then I’ll wait.” Payne grabbed the folding chair and sat, ignoring the colorful insults hurled at her from an enraged Fahrenheit.

Amari finally snapped, her nerves worn thin. “Listen! I don’t care what you two do! Either get out or shut up… unless you don’t want the mayor to wake up!”

Curie stepped in, trying to cool things down. “Madame Fahrenheit, from what I have observed, may I suggest you take over the daily tasks of the mayoral office? You seem the best suited for such a job.”

Fahr glared furiously at Payne, but conceded to Curies point. “Fine, sit your lazy ass down here forever for all I care. It’s not like you could handle running this place anyway!”

“Maybe,” interjected Curie “If we sent word to Monsieur Nate, he would surely be willing to lend a helping hand. He has accumulated quite the impressive resume when it comes to the organizing and administration of settlements.”

Fahrenheit huffed, but agreed. Before leaving Fahr stepped closer to Payne and leaned in. “If anything happens to him while you’re down here, it’s your head on the block.”

[secretobsessionstuff]

You know that post you made about voices getting deeper when talking through burps? Maybe something with that with Riley as the victim? Like he’s on a date with Madix, and doesn’t want to be impolite so he keeps talking through it, but the food isn’t agreeing with him at all, and he finds himself feeling gassy and kind of nauseous as time goes on. Madix is suspicious, and Riley has to take a trip midway through dinner to go and vomit in the restroom. Lotsa burps and comfort 🤗🤗🤗

After alittle over twenty minutes of waiting, steaming plates of food were set down infront of the couple. Madix licked his lips in anticipation as he impatiently waitedfor the waiter to move his hand away before eagerly digging into his meal.Riley, with less enthusiasm, also scooped up a few bites of mashed potatoes andchewed slowly. He wasn’t very hungry, not compared to Madix who had missedlunch that day, still Riley ate while he listened to Madix talk abouthis day.

The restaurantwas crowded and warmly lit, it all felt quite cozy for a date, but Riley couldn’tseem to relax. Halfway through his meal, he started feeling bloated and full,a strange occurrence considering he wasn’t eating very much or fast. He kept forgettingthat he piled food onto his fork but never took a bite, only remembering whenit fell back onto his plate. Madix’s voice became a source of white noise as heeventually, and without meaning too, zoned out. He stared down at his mostlyuntouched meal and grimaced at the juicy and fatty meat. The food wasn’tlooking so appealing now as he stifled a burp in his fist. He exhaleddeeply and slowly, feeling his stomach rumble but not with hunger.

“…Are youeven listening?”

Rileylooked up suddenly at Madix who was frowning at him from across the table. Heshook his head and blinked a few times while trying to come up with a way totell Madix that he had no clue what they had been talking about for the lastten minutes.

“Sorry Ijust zoned out for a bit there,” Riley said, as he moved food around his plate.It was piling up in a big mound of greyish mashed potatoes, gravy, and a half-eatenturkey breast, and it looked almost as gross as Riley felt.

“Issomething bothering you?” Madix questioned. “You seem distracted.”

“No, no, I’mokay just ahh…” Riley paused as he felt a burp bubbling up his throat. Hiswords were cut off by a sharp intake of breath as tried to swallow the belch. “hiicc…Just a little tired tonight.” Therest of his thought came out sounding thick and muffled, his voice dropping anoctave.

“Okay…”Madix decided to drop the matter, not wanting to ruin their night out. “So, didyou get that assignment back today?”

Rileydived into a conversation about the stupid amount of course work that he wasdoing, on top of tutoring and working part-time. At first, he welcomed theexcuse not to eat, but constantly talking was forcing him to swallow a lot ofair, further inflating his belly with pressure. He kept hiccupping and exhaling,trying to make the ache in his guy subside. The need to burp was growing, andnausea came along with his stubborn refusal to burp at the booth. He knew thatMadix wouldn’t care but there were strangers around them, and he didn’t want todraw attention to himself.

Unfortunately,the more Riley tried to hide his discomfort, the more suspicious Madix got.

“Aren’t youhungry?” Madix gestured to the slop of food on his plate.

“Oh, no it’sjust not very good,” Riley lied. Although perhaps it wasn’t so much of a lie,he thought, as his stomach gurgled. He placed a hand against his swollen bellyand silently groaned in pain. The few bites of food that he had were sitting inhis stomach like a rock. Riley took a couple sips of his iced tea, but eventhat wasn’t sitting well.

He was experiencingthat uncomfortable feeling of being too full, and it was making him tired. Hiseyelids were drooping, and his head was getting heavy, but still his nauseapersisted. Feeling Madix’s piercing gaze on him, Riley forced himself to take anotherbite so that his boyfriend would stop asking questions.

That wasnot a good idea. He struggled to swallow the mushy mess of potatoes and chicken,and when it finally went down, a shiver ran up Riley’s back. He felt sweatspring to the surface of his skin and saliva coat his tongue. If Riley couldhave seen his face just then, it would have looked like a devil drained thelife from his veins.

Riley mumbledsomething about going to the bathroom and hastily left the table with his handcovering his mouth. He hoped that he was casual enough that Madix wouldn’tthink anything of it.

He didn’tlook back as he stumbled down the hallway towards the men’s room and launchedhimself into the first stall. He fell to his knees on the floor just as atorrent of vomit gushed from his mouth. A chunky stream of his dinner spewedpast his lips and landed in the toilet bowl with a splatter. With violent andrather loud retches, Riley’s stomach expelled any traces of food from his body.

When vomitstarted pouring from his nose, Riley wished that Madix was with him, and just as hethought that, he felt a firm palm rest against his back.

“Ugh…MadixI – I’m sor…. Heeuuurrrkk.”

“Shhh, it’s okay, love.” Madix cooed ashe rubbed circles on Riley’s arching back. “Just get it all up.”

“Bluurrgghh…Huurrkk.” Riley heaved forwardagain as his belly wrung itself out. He choked up a few more mouthfuls of whatwas probably his lunch and groaned from the effort.

“That’s it,Ry. You’re okay.” Madix could only watch as his boyfriend lurched forward witheach retch and gag. His eyebrows furrowed in deeper concern upon him seeing thethick waves of puke shoot from Riley’s mouth. For not having eaten much, the poorboy was bringing up a lot. His vomiting sounded harsh and painful, and Madix prayedthat his boyfriend would get a break soon.

Riley spatand sniffled as the vomiting eventually tapered off, his arms still shaky fromholding himself up. He burped up a couple strands of stringy saliva laced withspecs of food, and finally had a moment to catch his breath. His stomach was stillcramping and whining when he was handed a wad of toilet paper to wipe his mouth.

“Youalright, baby?” Madix asked, as he brought his hand up to the side of Riley’shead and brushed back his hair.

“Not really.” 

“I didn’trealize you were feeling so sick. Why didn’t you ask to go home?”

“It cameon really quick, I’m sorry,” Riley admitted, “something just wasn’t agreeingwith me.”

“That’sfine, babe. Do you feel okay to leave now?”

“I don’tknow. My stomach is still killing me.”

“Yeah well,you just exorcized a demon by puking it out, so…”

Rileycracked a smile, accomplishing Madix’s lame attempt at distracting the boy fromhis surely upset stomach. Now all he had to do was keep making jokes untilRiley’s head hit his pillow back at home.

[dumbkinnies-archived]

hi!! Can I get a stimboard for Entrapta from spop?? I was, well yknow, me!! lotsa purple and maybe a little majenta, i really liked fizzy things, kinetic sand, and like.. smooth-flowing mechanics, electric currents, maybe neons.. ooooh and clicking buttons!!! eee this is real word vomit so you dont gotta incorporate it all, but thanks anyways!!! - Entrapta

Tumblr wasnt cooperating with me as I made this so it took much longer to post than to make, but its been posted!!

- Mod Bakugou