#when i tell you i accidentally stayed up until 3am TWO NIGHTS IN A ROW writing this…. i am not well. someone lock me up

[stardustvanfleet]

Backstage Baby (Jake Kiszka x Groupie!Reader)

SMUT. 18+ ONLY! MDNI!!!!!

PAIRING: Jake Kiszka x F!Reader

WORDS: 4k

WARNINGS: Dom!Jake. BASICALLY PWP. rough unprotected sex, edging, daddy kink, light choking (blink and you’ll miss it), mix of praise and degradation, nicknames (baby, princess, good girl, slut), my obsession with jake’s silver medallion, ending with flirtatious fluffy aftercare.

A/N: i’ve been writing band rpf for years, but this is my first gvf fic! ever since seeing them in boston on 9/15, i have literally been walking around in a daze, daydreaming about going backstage with jake……. and this is the result lmfao. title inspired by B-Side Baby by Adam Ant. i’m always looking for more gvf friends to discuss ideas with….. and also just cry and lose my mind with LMAO. anyway— i hope you enjoy! XO, li

••••••••••••••••••••

No matter how many times you saw Jake up there, he still made you breathless.

That furrowed concentration on his brow as his expert fingers flew across the strings… his hair falling across his shoulders… the way he would rock and grind against his guitar, glowing under the lights as sweat dripped down his forehead, his chest bare and slick from perspiration…

You didn’t really ever plan on becoming a groupie. The effect that Jake had on you had been intense enough long before you started following Greta Van Fleet around the country, before you’d even once thought you’d ever be in a room with him smaller than a stadium. But you hadn’t expected anything like the way things had actually gone. They had always said real life was stranger than fiction, but you had never thought its twists and turns could be this earth-shattering.

It had started with the eye contact. The first few times it happened, you couldn’t be sure if you were imagining things, your head perhaps fuzzy from the thrill of numerous front-row nights in a row… but when Jake crouched down and leaned towards you mid-solo, his eyes meeting yours with a jolt of electricity, a wicked smirk on his face, you realized with a heart-stopping shudder that no, you hadn’t been imagining his eyes on you.

Those looks would intensify as the tour continued. He’d always somehow find you in the front row, letting his cool and confident gaze rest on you as he played, just long enough to leave you squeezing your thighs together involuntarily. One night, you had been approached by a stagehand, who simply passed you a note with directions to an afterparty, and even though the note had no signature, something deep down told you exactly who it had been from.

That was your first night with Jake, and you had left the next morning with aching legs that felt like jelly. Since then, every night had been fucking cinematic.

Tonight was no exception. It had been damn near impossible to take your eyes off of Jake before you’d even had any opportunity to speak to him, but now, knowing exactly what he was able to do to your body, how fucking incredible he could make you feel… seeing him like that onstage made you positively throb throughout the show, taking all of your energy just to keep your composure.

As the concert winded down, you slipped out of the pit up front, making your way to the backstage entrance. The security guards, who recognized you by now— still an odd feeling — let you in. You headed towards where you now knew the band would be coming down once they left the stage, your heart already pounding with anticipation, heat already beginning to pool between your thighs. You took a deep breath, tugging on the hem of your top, which you had intentionally chosen due to its short length: you loved the way it highlighted the curves of your waist and hips, and hoped Jake would too.

And, as always, once they emerged, it seemed as though everything was happening at once– pulling out earpieces, handing off instruments and passing equipment along – but your eyes were only on Jake, and, you realized with a shudder that wracked your entire body, his were on you.

Once his guitar had been handed off, Jake wasted no time in heading right towards you, grabbing your wrist, and leading you down the hall. He didn’t need to say anything; you knew exactly where he was taking you, and you instantly felt a wave of overwhelming desire wash over your every inch. It was truly absurd how little he had to do to turn you on.

//

He pulled you into his dressing room, and immediately pushed your back up against the closing door. Jake’s large hands pinned your shoulders against it, a soft clicking sound occurring as the door locked automatically. His lips collided sloppily with yours, kissing you with a hunger that sent your head spinning, sparks of heat igniting deep within your core.

When he finally pulled back, grazing your bottom lip with his teeth as he did so, a shiver went down your spine, and it took you far longer than intended to regain composure and open your eyes. When you did, his heavy-lidded dark eyes were on you, pupils blown wide with desire. The dominance behind his expression was enough to cause an involuntary whimper to escape you, the sound of which brought out a smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“So needy today… What a dirty girl,” he said, his tone dripping with authority, making your knees immediately weaken. His eyes never left yours as he continued teasing, knowing by now what it did to you. He leaned in, making sure you got his next few words right in your ear. “You wanna get fucked tonight? Hm?” His voice was low and seductive, leaving one hand on your shoulder to keep you pinned to the wall, while his other one stroked first down your arm, then back up, your skin lighting up under his touch. As his body pressed up against yours, you could feel him, rock-hard and throbbing against your thigh, the sensation almost overwhelming as you found yourself nodding your head as hard as you could, already difficult to find the words.

That wasn’t enough, though, not for Jake. The hand that had been stroking up and down your bare arms moved abruptly to your jaw, holding it firmly in place so his gaze was locked on yours. “I asked you a question, princess.” Your lower lip trembled desperately as Jake tilted his head ever so slightly, his expression and tone just the right amount of patronizing as his hips began to roll at a slow but steady pace against you, breathing out, “You want this cock?”

“Yes, fuck,” you managed, already feeling lightheaded at just his words and close proximity.

“There you go,” he chuckled condescendingly at the sound of you using your words for the first time. He continued to rock up against your thigh, letting the hand on your jaw slide to your throat, but not lingering there too long, not giving you yet what he knew you wanted— just staying long enough to drag his long fingers down the sensitive skin of your neck, as if examining every inch of you. What a fucking tease.

“Jake, please,” you found yourself begging, taking your free hand and gripping the lapel of his black jacket— all he was wearing over his tanned, sweaty torso, which had been making your head spin all night— “I’m so fucking hot for you. So fucking wet for you. I want you so bad, please…”

The sound of your desperation made a low sound somewhere between a chuckle and a growl rumble in Jake’s throat, and if your panties weren’t soaked through already, that alone would have been enough to get you there.

Your begging had satisfied him, for now. Jake finally released his grip, freeing you from your position pinned up against the door, only to lead you over to the white leather couch in the corner of the room. Before having you sit, however, there were two things that needed to be done. First of all, he shrugged his black jacket off from his shoulders, throwing it to the floor behind him, leaving him standing before you in nothing but those sinfully tight pants and that silver necklace that drove you wild. Through your lightheadedness, you could tell how horny he was, too— his pants left almost nothing to the imagination, and the sight of the achingly large bulge straining against the tight black fabric was making your head swim, to say nothing of the heat between your thighs.

That was when he lowered himself just enough that his lips were in line with the top button of your jeans, and you felt all breath leave your body as he looked wickedly up at you. Going slowly enough to make you squirm, but not so slowly that you’d protest, Jake unzipped your bell bottoms. His gaze never left yours as he pulled them down your legs, revealing inch after inch of your skin to him, his tongue flicking out across his own bottom lip hungrily as he watched himself undress you— this gorgeous present, all his to unwrap.

As you had anticipated, your light pink panties were so soaked they had been rendered essentially useless as a means of covering you up, and the feeling of Jake’s eyes devouring the sight of your pussy through them were only making you wetter.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed out, his eyes glancing up to meet yours for a moment before looking right back down at the burning heat between your legs. After a second or two of him just looking intently— as if committing the sight to memory— he spoke, saying, “Drives me fucking crazy…” as one of his hands found its way to the inside of your calf, stroking slowly up, further and further, “...how fucking wet you get for me, before I’ve even touched you. Goddamn.”

“Jake, please,” you begged again, your voice cracking a bit as you spread your legs to give him easier access to your inner thigh, his long fingers stroking and massaging you only centimeters from where you needed his touch the most. “I need your fingers… I need them… please.”

Your final “please” had such an undertone of neediness, desperation, it must’ve been exactly what Jake had been looking for-– and immediately, your eyes rolled back into your head as his long middle finger began to stroke deliciously up and down your clothed slit. He started at your entrance to gather your wetness through your panties, then slid upwards and flattened his fingertip out, letting the pad of the digit trace tight circles over your throbbing clit. Immediately upon the contact with your sensitive bundle of nerves, you cried out, clapping a hand over your own mouth as you, in a cloud of arousal, watched Jake play with your pussy from his position between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours as he kept up his steady, rhythmic circular motions.

Time seemed to stop for what could have been seconds or minutes as Jake massaged your clit and teased your entrance through your dripping panties, and it was only when your eyes were watering and whimpers were falling from your lips that he pulled his hand back, the loss of contact making you let out an involuntary whine.

But once his fingers hooked around the waistband of your panties, you realized he wasn’t teasing any longer— he was escalating. The thought made you shudder as he tugged the soaked scrap of fabric down your legs, Jake’s face flushed with heat, that gorgeous hair of his falling across his shoulders and sticking to his forehead.

Once your panties were off, he tossed them to the side, standing up and leaving you trembling on the leather couch as his hands moved down to his own waistband, his eyes meeting yours and his tongue once again swiping across his bottom lip hungrily. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him as he moved to pull his pants down— which, at this point, were pornographically tight— and, Jesus Christ, he looked angelic as they came off. His skin was glowing with sweat, and warm light from the dressing room’s lamps was glinting off the silver medallion around his neck. When he took his cock out, you let out yet another involuntary whimper.

Hard and thick, the tip already glistening with his arousal, just the sight of it made your mouth water. He wrapped his hand around his length, beginning to pump it up and down just slightly as he lowered himself onto the couch next to you, watching with blown-out pupils as you pulled your crop top over your head, revealing to Jake that you hadn’t worn a bra underneath it, your tits bouncing free. The realization made him growl under his breath between strokes of his cock, groaning, “Fuck… you do that for me?” Your nod made him groan all over again, rasping out, “Mmmm… you’re such a dirty girl… C’mere.”

The simple command was all you needed, giving into your desire and practically pushing yourself against his slick, toned body. The feeling of his hot skin against yours alone made you moan out loud as Jake’s hands found your hips, pulling you into his lap. Once you were straddling him, you were so close to his cock that you felt entirely lightheaded, knowing that if you rocked forward, your clit would get the most incredible friction rubbing up against his length…

But you didn’t have to do anything yourself. Before you could organize your thoughts, Jake was kissing you again, messy and filthy, his tongue and teeth everywhere, his mouth moving sloppily from your lips to your neck and back again, and suddenly you hadn’t any thoughts left at all beyond Jake, his hands, his body, and the feeling of his cold silver medallion pressing up against the skin of your breasts— grazing your nipple, making you gasp into his mouth, eliciting a dark chuckle form the man beneath you.

One of his hands took yours and guided it to his cock, and when your fingers wrapped around the velvety skin of his length the both of you shuddered in unison. Jake’s mouth immediately dropped open from the pleasure, murmuring another, “Fuck, princess,” his other hand slipping between your legs to start toying with your clit again. It didn’t take long for your legs to start to tremble. You were aching for him to fill you up.

You both worked each other like this for a minute or two, eyes growing more half-lidded and cheeks flushing ever pinker as you built up to the main event. Finally, after what seemed an achingly long time, Jake finally spoke, words coming in between his heavy panting that was making your whole body tremble.

“You want it, baby? You want this cock right now? You want Daddy to fuck you like the cute little slut you are?”

You moaned so desperately you hardly recognized your own voice. He always knew exactly when to bring things up a notch, and how. You were nodding your head before you could even speak, finally finding the words to beg, “Please, Daddy. I need it, I need your cock,” staring at him with lust-blown doe eyes.

Jake let out a true growl this time, and sat back further, spreading his legs wide, his cock thick and hard and waiting, your wetness all over his thigh from where you had been straddling him. When he spoke again, his voice was low and authoritative. “Then sit on this fucking dick.”

The sound that left your lips in response to his words was something beyond desperation. With trembling thighs, you positioned yourself over Jake as he gave his cock another couple strokes, lining himself up at your entrance, and saying lowly, hotly, “Look at me.”

You obliged without even having to think, and with your eyes on each other, taking in every little change in expression, you started lowering yourself onto him. Slowly but surely, you felt every single inch of his hard cock stretching you out, and as you took all of him as deep as possible, you made sure to keep your eyes right on his as your mouth fell open. He loved to see what he was doing to you.

He only waited a moment, giving you enough time to grab onto his shoulders for leverage, but not enough time to catch your breath, before his hands found your hips. His fingernails dug into your skin, something sexy, dangerous, and dark in his eyes that you instantly recognized. Oh. There would be no working slowly into things tonight. Tonight, Jake was entirely in control.

Roughly, quickly, he lifted you by the hips, before pushing you right back down onto his cock, making you cry out in ecstasy. It was only a moment before he lifted you right back up again, then shoving you back down onto him, giving you no rest from the sudden and overwhelming pleasure. His sense of timing, perfected from years of playing guitar, was more obvious than ever as he started to build up a rhythm that was dizzying in its relentless repetition. The way he was filling you up felt so fucking good, and it only intensified when Jake began to fuck up into you while pressing you down onto him, getting deeper and deeper with every thrust. You couldn’t hold back anymore, starting to moan out his name as he fucked you.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Jake groaned out, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead onto his chest, “Such a good girl… taking my cock so fucking well. Goddamn. So fuckin’ filthy.”

“Fuck, fuck, thank you, Daddy,” you were moaning, broken sounds falling nonstop from your lips as Jake slammed his cock into you, but when your eyes threatened to roll back into your head, he once again took your jaw in his large hand, forcing your gaze to stay on his.

“I told you to keep your fucking eyes on me when I fuck you.”

You whimpered, biting your lip, Jake’s relentless pounding hitting you right where it felt the best, the angle at which he was fucking you giving him perfect access to your sweet spot.

“I’m sorry, Daddy, fuck, fuck, don’t stop!” you begged, the combination of his cock filling you up and that low, sexy voice of his right in your ear completely emptying your mind of any other thoughts besides how fucking good he was making you feel.

Jake was speeding up now, and it was getting harder and harder for you to keep your eyes on him with the pleasure building so intensely within you. You knew you were close, and his labored gasps and breathless growls made it clear that he wasn’t far behind.

“Fuck, baby… that perfect pussy… she’s gripping me so fuckin’ tight,” he was groaning against you, and you were nodding desperately and moaning out obscenities, tears forming in your eyes from the unyielding ecstasy. One of your arms was still around his shoulders, while the other had a white-knuckled grip on his silver necklace as you rolled your hips in time with his thrusts.

He must’ve been able to tell you were close by the way your thighs began to shake, the way your moans turned into desperate, tiny whimpers, because you didn’t even have to say a word before Jake sucked his pointer and middle fingers into his mouth, getting them nice and slick before lowering them to trace tight circles onto your clit.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It was all so much; so deliciously overstimulating— Jake’s cock deep in your pussy, his fingers working your clit just right, his dark eyes looking at you so intently that even the act of him simply watching you as you fell apart felt so fantastically filthy and sinful.

“Does my little slut wanna cum?” Jake growled through gritted teeth, still thrusting up into you as he managed one of those patronizing smirks that drove you wild, “Not yet. Not until I say so.”

You let out a desperate whine, whimpering weakly, “Jake— fuck, please, Daddy.” Every word took all of your focus and energy to stammer out, with Jake surrounding what felt like every inch of your body, from his cock pumping in and out of you, to his fingers on your clit, and the heat of his skin against yours.

“Be a good girl now,” he continued between grunts, fucking you deep and hard, his lust-blown eyes never once leaving yours, “I’m gonna count down. Then… and only then… you cum on my fucking cock.”

You managed to make the only sound you could— a whimper that sounded so pathetic and slutty you hardly recognized your own voice. Trying to find words now would be hopeless. It was all so much. It felt so fucking good. Tears began to spill from your eyes as Jake’s thick cock slammed against your g-spot over and over again, in perfect time with his calloused fingers relentlessly circling your clit.

He chuckled condescendingly. You could tell— he knew you were too fucked out to answer him.

“Here we go, princess… five…”

You were trembling, moments away from the edge, utilizing every bit of energy you had left to hold off the orgasm that threatened to overtake you any second.

“Four… three…”

You could barely breathe. Every sensation, every feeling, was layered on top of one other. The pressure on your clit. Jake’s eyes, watching you unravel. The feeling of his cock swelling inside of you as he pounded into your cunt. His other hand still gripping your hip for leverage, surely leaving bruises in the shape of his fingerprints.

“Two…”

He leaned right in, giving you a look so fucking intense and hungry that you felt yourself go lightheaded, that heat building, building… so close, so fucking close… he just had to say…

“One. Cum for me. Fucking cum.”

The moment the command left his lips, it was all over. The white-hot coil within you snapped, and your body was overtaken with bliss, shaking uncontrollably as you clenched down onto him, the feeling of your release all around him making Jake groan out a pornographic, “Oh, fuck.”

He kept up his pace as he fucked you and worked your clit through your orgasm, repeatedly biting his lower lip in concentration as he groaned out, “That’s it, baby, give it to me, soak my fucking cock.” The pleasure was dizzying, damn near overwhelming, and through your haze it was impossible to tell for just how long he helped prolong your climax while chasing his own.

With a delicious moan and a string of obscenities, Jake pulled out of your cunt just in time, thrusting into his hand and covering your stomach in his cum. Even through your post-orgasmic haze, the sight of him cumming all over you was so incredibly filthy you found yourself whimpering all over again, watching him through glazed-over eyes as he rode out his high.

When you both finally collapsed onto each other, panting, covered in sweat and cum, Jake groaned out a breathless, “Holy fuck,” before taking his hand and running it through your hair. There was a tenderness in his gaze and a softness in his tone as he asked, “Are you okay, baby?”

You nodded, slowly but surely coming back down to Earth. When you managed a dazed grin, he chuckled a little, smirking affectionately. He leaned in to press a kiss to your lips— this one far more gentle, but no less passionate. When Jake pulled back, he breathed out, “That was so fucking hot, baby… goddamn. You’re something else.”

You felt a blush creep up in your cheeks as he stroked your hair, then your back, his tender touches grounding you as you caught your breath against his chest. It was only after a good long while, once the stickiness on your stomachs became too much to bear, that he helped you to your feet, your thighs already feeling a familiar ache, knees still wobbling a bit. By now, you had found your words, and you thanked him, giggling shyly despite yourself.

He wrapped a plush towel around you, cleaning you up as best as he could, grabbing another towel for himself. It was after this, though, that he spoke.

“Come back to the hotel with me tonight.”

His words took you by surprise. Yes, you’d been to his hotel rooms before— but generally, you’d head there in order to fuck, not after it already had taken place. He must’ve been able to read your expression, because he continued, “I wanna take care of you, baby. It’s the least I can do… there’s a jacuzzi, we can get a nice bath going for you… and there’s a king-sized bed…”

And… you were blushing again. Of course.

You chewed on your bottom lip with nervous excitement, your heart already starting to beat faster. “Jake… that sounds perfect.” He smiled at you, looking utterly radiant, and you felt butterflies in your stomach all over again as he put his arm around you. “C’mon, gorgeous… let’s get you some of my clothes to put on. I’ve got a sweatshirt in here somewhere…”

As you melted into his touch, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. The night was only just beginning.

••••••••••••••••••••

A/N: thank you so so much for reading!! i would absolutely love to hear your thoughts either in the notes or through tumblr DMs. my ask box is always open for filthy thoughts, and i’m always looking for more gvf friends to discuss with 🥰 i’m also starting a taglist for any new fics i post, so be sure to let me know if you want to be added! XO, li

#jake kiszka #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka smut #greta van smut #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet x reader #li speaks #my fanfics #when i tell you i accidentally stayed up until 3am TWO NIGHTS IN A ROW writing this…. i am not well. someone lock me up #writing tag

[poorlilbeans]

keep fighTIng (part 5) (is this thing seriously still going?) (yes)

uh. some shit will go down. same warnings as before, i suppose. there are hospitals and fluids and fluff and pain. it ain’t too graphic, but it’ll give you a good whump fix. you’re welcome. ps the japanese is from google tranlate so it’s probably all wrong don’t kill me >.<

At least they got a solid half hour of cuddling in before Yuuri plunged into another crisis. It came so suddenly; he’d been dozing contentedly in Victor’s arms one moment, and was violently convulsing the next. Victor leaped up in shock and slammed a fist on the help button. Seeing it this time wasn’t any easier than before, and Victor’s eyes filled with panicked tears as nurses rushed in to monitor the seizure. He was vomiting a little, or maybe just salivating, but it looked like he was foaming at the mouth. He looked like he was in so much pain. Thankfully, this one only lasted about a minute, and Yuuri’s eyes focused only a few moments after he stopped twitching. There were two nurses- the one who spoke English, and one that looked unfamiliar. The unfamiliar one started asking him questions, and a looked of panic flashed over his face. The other nurse told her, “This one doesn’t understand Russian. You go get fresh linens, I’ll deal with him,” before turning to Yuuri and switching to English.

“Do you feel okay?”

“I’m okay,” he answered heavily. “Just sore.” The nurse nodded and asked a few more questions, checking that he was fully present, and the other nurse came back with fresh sheets and pajamas for him. The English-speaking nurse told him,

“We’re just going to move you into the chair for a moment while we change the sheets, alright?” She reached to help him up, but Yuuri flinched, blinking in confusion. 

“I only threw up on the pillow. I don’t need new sheets.” 

“It’s alright, love, you’re just a little sweaty,” Victor cooed, wrapping a gentle arm around him. He thought it might work, but as Yuuri moved, his eyes widened the moment he realized what had happened. 

“Yuuri.”

“I-”

“Yuuri, look at me. It’s okay.” But, as he guided Yuuri into the seat, Victor could tell that he’d decided it was definitely not okay. He was quickly beginning to hyperventilate, his embarrassment once again sending him into a flurry of panic. The English-speaking nurse left the other one to finish dressing the bed and approached him, speaking softly.

“Try to slow down your breathing, Yuuri, you don’t want to send yourself into another coughing fit.” If Yuuri heard her, he was too panicked to acknowledge it. All he could hear was the blood roaring in his hears. His heart pounding, and... and Yurio, saying something in Russian. Of course he’d choose now to come back. Victor answered him in Russian, keeping his arms wrapped loosely around Yuuri. 

“He had another seizure,” Victor told Yuri, “and now he’s freaking out because he wet the bed.” Yuri snickered at that.

“Of course he’d freak out over something like that.”

“My hands,” Yuuri cut in breathlessly. Victor looked down and saw that Yuuri’s hands were twisted in an uncomfortable position, and he couldn’t seem to move them. 

“Are they numb?” the nurse asked, not sounding at all surprised.

“Tingly... they hurt.”

“That’s because you aren’t giving them enough oxygen. You need to slow down your breathing.” Realizing he could’ve been helping, Victor took Yuuri’s chin and turned it towards him, taking long, dramatic breaths as an example. After a while, the hyperventilating stopped, and Yuuri sobbed silently while the nurses helped him clean up, get into the new hospital pajamas, and settle back into bed. Victor resumed his position cuddling him on the bed, stroking his hair as he sobbed. The nurses left to continue their rounds, and Victor whispered reassurances in Yuuri’s ear.

“It’s okay, love. You’re so strong. You’ve been so brave.”

“I- I’m scared. And I’m disgusting. I just pissed myself and then cried like a baby!” He sobbed a little louder this time and Victor shushed him softly. “I hate myself!” There was silence after that, save for Yuuri’s continued crying. No one knew what to say. The words hung in the air, poisoning it. Victor felt like he could cry, hearing Yuuri say something so awful. 

Surprisingly enough, once again, it was Yurio who saved the day.

“One time I pissed myself during practice because I was scared of Lilia and I didn’t tell her I needed a break. I don’t know if you guys have ever pissed on the ice, but it’s a fucking ordeal. You have to let it freeze and then scrape it off and sterilize it. Imagine how hard Mila laughed watching me scrape my own frozen piss off the ice.” Yuuri’s sobs slowed, mostly out of shock at Yurio telling that story. Victor chuckled.

“I threw up on the podium once,” he added, hoped a stream of gross stories might make Yuuri feel better.

“Oh, good one. Remember that time I had stomach flu and shat myself in the change room?” Yurio said.

“Of course I do. I can do worse than that. When I was seventeen Georgi made a video compilation of me accidentally passing gas during interviews.”

“No way that’s true,” Yuuri interjected, wiping his tears. Victor snorted.

“I was a teenager once too, you know. I was fucking awkward. You think a teenage boy with waist length hair and only one friend who spends his life dancing on knives is good at conducting himself in public?”

“I’m going to have to see that video,” Yurio said. “How about that time Mila sneezed on Yakov and he looked at her like she’d just slapped his grandmother?”

“Oh, good one,” Victor laughed. “But I’m going to win with this one. When I was younger, Yakov actually had a whiteboard with # of Days Since Victor’s Pissed Himself written on it. So yes, I do know the ordeal of scraping frozen pee off the ice.” Yurio’s jaw practically hit the floor.

“How do I not know about this?” he exclaimed.

“Because I didn’t tell you. Duh.”

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever heard! Holy shit!” Yurio cackled, and even Yuuri cracked a smile, which warmed Victor’s heart.

“See, Yuuri? We’re all just humans, and humans are gross. And yet even though you’re a human, you still manage to be incredibly beautiful and make me fall madly in love with you every single day.” Yuuri smiled bigger, and snuggled into Victor’s chest.

“I loved you,” he hummed. Victor kissed the top of his head.

“Ugh, you’re right. You guys are gross,” Yuri snarled, but there was no bite behind it. “I’ll tell you what. I want to hear more about this whiteboard.”

“In my defense,” Victor protested, “Yakov went through this phase where he insisted that all the costumes I wore had two hook-and-eyes above the zipper. Two! Who needs that? How is that necessary? Anyway, that was why he started it, because I wet myself, like, three competitions in a row. Thankfully, it was after competing every time.” They went on like that, peacefully chatting, until Yurio had to go home and the nurse brought Yuuri more broth and water, and a bagel for Victor. She allowed Yuuri to remove the oxygen mask and put on the nasal tubes himself, and she ran some quick tests before leaving them to their dinner. The two of them kept chatting, cuddling, and giving each other kisses on the cheek, doing their best to pretend they weren’t at the hospital.

The night was rough, to be sure. Yuuri threw up a few times, and it was still bloody and painful. His fever spiked around 1am and it took 40 minutes to get it to go down. He was delirious for a lot of it, switching between Japanese and English and crying for his parents. Victor stayed with him through it all, staying as calm as he could for his fiance’s sake. 

At 3am, Yuuri woke up again, moaning. He whimpered, and then said Victor’s name. He said it with a thicker accent than usual, like the way he would if he were talking about him to his family. How he’d say it if he weren’t speaking English.

“Yuuri? What’s wrong? Should I call a nurse?”

“Sore wa futatabi okotte imasu.” (It’s happening again.)

“Yuuri?”

“Watashi wa sore o nozonde inai. Sore o tomeru!” (I don’t want it. Make it stop!)

“Yuuri, it’s alright. Can you speak English for me? I don’t understand.”

“Onegaishimasu! Victor! Sore o tomeru!” (Please! Victor! Make it stop!) Realizing what was about to happen, Victor climbed out of the bed, and kissed Yuuri’s head as he pressed the help button.

“It’ll be over soon, love. I’m right here.” This seizure was longer, but there was no mess involved. Still, Yuuri was crying when it was over. The English-speaking nurse had gone home for the night, which meant Victor had to translate between Yuuri and the new nurse.

“I’m so tired, Victor.”

“I know.”

“It hurts. Everything hurts so bad.”  

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to be in the hospital any more. I feel so sick all the time. I just want to skate again! I don’t want this stupid sickness or this stupid broken ankle!” He sobbed into Victor’s chest, and Victor kept hugging him, kept stroking his hair.

“I’ll be right here for as long as it takes. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

jeeeeeeeeeeeeeeez, how long will I keep this fic going? only the gods know. i hope you enjoyed!

#sick!yuuri #hurt!yuuri #sickfic #yoi #yuri on ice #yuri plisetsky #yuuri katsuki #victor nikiforov #fluff #angst #whump