Anything, Anywhere, Anytime // OC X John Lydon (Johny Rotten)

John number two

"Hggggg for fuck's sake"
Dramy groaned, leaning their whole body weight on the railing, looking down into the water and gripping their stomach

"I gotta- I have to throw up"
They mumble to themselves in a strange self soothing attempt.
They haven't felt this way in ages, like when you have a super high fever, your whole body is trembling, you're barely in control of your own body and muscles, everything hurts, you're super hot but also freezing cold, sweaty, feeling like you're gonna puke your organs out...

In another attempt to feel better, they proceed to take their shirt off, carelessly throwing it on the ground, that's how you can tell they're really not okay, that's their favorite fucking shirt.
The cold air hit their now unclothed upper body, this is definitely not going to give them fucking bronchitis, stupid whore.

So there they were, now shivering more than before, leaning on the fence, half naked and feeling like they were probably gonna croak soon.

But of course they couldn't get a moment of fucking piece and quiet even in the last moment of their godforsaken life.
Next thing they know, the loud sound of a motorbike replaces their groans of pain.
And the blinding lights from the headlights blocked their view of the vehicle, or anything else, really.
They turned back around, head hanging over the Thames river, oh fuck oh fuck im gonna puke oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck-

They didn't care enough to turn back around to the motorcycle that had now turned off the headlights, creating another absurd change of lights and surroundings that made Dramy close their eyes shut.

Now they really started to feel bad, like if every ounce of alcohol and pill they had ever taken just now hit them.

Unbeknownst to them, the mysterious motorcyclist had parked the vehicle and hopped down from it, and had started approaching Dramy with a very worried expression on his face.

And at that moment, Dramy had made the very wise decision of making themselves vomit, as being in this state was now way more painful than the thought of throwing up.
They took their fingers, shut their eyes and stuck them into their throat. Nothing. FUCK!
Either their fingers were too short, or their gag reflex was gone... Definitely the second option. Haha

Meanwhile, the guy had walked up to Dramy. Now standing directly next to them, like he was evaluating if they should help or not, but this guy was very kind-hearted, so he did the right thing.
Placing a hand on Dramy's shoulder, he spoke up.
"Uhm... I'm not even gonna ask, you definitely aren't feeling okay."
The guy mumbled.
Dramy turned their head.

"I, I'm uh- My fingers are too short!"
Their words slurred as they held onto the railing like their life depended on it.

"I can't- I have to throw up, man, I have to."
They were almost literally crying, something Dramy doesn't do often.

The guy hesitated, totally fucking gobsmacked

"No, don't leave!"
Dramy reached out and grabbed his hand.

"I uh... I wasn't going to-"

"You have to stick your fingers down my throat"
Dramy said, trembling over their whole body.

"Wha-"

"DO IT, FUCKING DO IT"

The guy looked at them, stunned, growing anxious.

"COME ON FOR FUCKS SAK-"

Dramy began as the guy was starting to get nervous by the yelling and the state Dramy was in, but he definitely wasn't about to stick his hands down their throat.
And with that, the guy did the next most logical thing - he delivered one swift punch straight to Dramys gut. Ouch, this definitely hurts more than the fingers in their throat- But I guess that's another way of doing that...