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uzumaki-rebellion · 2 months ago

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"Ruler of my heart

Robber of my soul

Where can you be?

I wait patiently

My heart cries out

Pain inside

Where can you be?

I wait patiently"

Irma Thomas—"Ruler of my Heart"

A.N.: Content Warning. Smut ahead.

Celeste's smartphone vibrated on her nightstand at six in the morning. She rubbed her head. Her scarf had come undone during the night and her locs tangled around her arm and side. She reached down for the phone and shoved it against her hair.

"Hello?" she said.

"Celeste…I can't come to church with you today."

She sat up and rested her back against the headboard.

"Oh…okay…"

" Mémé s health aide called me—"

"Is everything alright?"

"No. She's not doing so well…took a turn for the worse during the night. I've been here since two this morning."

"Did they say what's wrong? She's never been seriously ill or anything since she's been there."

"They don't really know. She was weak and having a hard time breathing before I got here. They have her using an oxygen tank now and she's better. Maybe Mike's death was too much for her to take."

"I'll come right over if you want."

"No. Go to your church service."

"I have to be there for work at four. I can stop in to check on you two."

"That would be good. Thank you."

"See you soon."

She hung up and slid down to the floor, prostrating herself for prayer. She asked God and her patron saint, St. Mary, to watch over Miss Irma. Celeste climbed back into bed and listened to the world outside waking up after excessive partying. Even her cottage moaned and shifted with creaking noises at the rising sun. Bounding out of bed forty minutes before service, she washed her face and brushed her teeth, rolled deodorant under her pits while checking the news about the missing tourists. There were no new updates available.

The drive over to St. Augustine was unhurried, and she found parking close by. After ninety minutes, Celeste stepped outside the Parish Hall with a dark smudge of ash on her forehead. She checked her phone for any messages from Terry, but no notifications popped up.

Back at her cottage, she cooked a simple breakfast of toast and scrambled eggs. Her friends chirped all over the groupchat app, complaining of hangovers, sore legs, and going back to work. She informed them that Terry hadn't stayed over, and they commended her on not simping out. The hours dragged by before she dressed in her work uniform and tied up her hair.

She checked in with her supervisor Anne at work, asking about Miss Irma.

"How did you know about her condition?" Anne asked.

"I'm friends with her grandson, Terry."

"I didn't know that."

"Is he still here?"

"He's with her now. We've transitioned into hospice care for her. Bryan said she doesn't have long."

"Wait…what? She's dying?"

Anne's watery blue eyes held the routine of elderly death in them.

"Yes."

"How could she go downhill so fast?"

"It happens that way sometimes. Not every patient has a gradual decline. They can be perky and thriving one moment, and then…gone just like that."

Celeste walked to her work locker and put away her bag and keys. She looked at her shift schedule and got to work immediately. Ducking into an employee restroom after cleaning six rooms, she braced herself by staring at her face in the mirror. Death and dying were inevitable at the long-term facility. Lord knows she'd seen enough of it working there. Things shifted to another experience when it was someone she cared about. She treated Miss Irma like family, and it hurt to know she would transition so soon. Another prayer went up from her and she crossed herself in order to build up emotional reserves to remain professional.

Passing through the long hallway, she headed to Miss Irma's room.

Terry kept a bedside vigil, cradling his grandmother's hand. Celeste was glad that they administered oxygen through a nasal cannula instead of a full mask. A hospice nurse checked the oxygen flow in the tank next to the bed and left the room quickly.

"Hi," she said.

Terry looked up at her, his eyes bloodshot from a lack of sleep, and his forehead lined with stress. She moved around the bed to stand next to him. Miss Irma slept with labored breathing.

"How is she?"

Terry shook his head, and his eyes scrunched up. Celeste hugged him from the side and he buried his face against her stomach. He wept softly. She held him, rocking his body to ease his spirit.

"She's lived a long, happy life. I'm grateful for that…but I don't want her to leave me," he said.

Tears misted Celeste's vision and she willed them back down, keeping her composure for him. His breath passed through her work smock, warming up the skin on her stomach.

"I shouldn't have told her about my cousin. She didn't need to know about what happened to him yet. I could've lied to her and said he was too busy to visit."

"Lying isn't good."

"I should've waited for another time."

"Terry, don't blame yourself."

Miss Irma's eyes fluttered open. Celeste lowered her head to make eye contact.

"Hi Miss Irma," Celeste said.

"I'm so tired, Papa," Miss Irma said.

"Rest, Mémé…don't waste your energy trying to speak. I'm right here with you."

Celeste rubbed his shoulder and sang the first three stanzas of "I Need Thee" for Miss Irma in hushed tones. The older woman's agitation melted away. Her rheumy eyes held Celeste's gaze, and Terry patted his grandmother's feeble, blue-veined hand.

"I better get back to work and leave you some privacy," she said.

Terry stood up and hugged her, his bulky arms squeezing her close.

"Thank you for singing to her."

"I'll come by later during another round to check on y'all. Stay strong, hear?"

He nodded his head and sat back down.

Celeste hurried back to her busy schedule, cleaning and moving clients into the dining room for their evening meals. She marked off tasks as she completed them to keep her focus on working her eight hours. During her first break, she went outside to smoke against a side wall, wondering how Miss Irma was doing and how Terry held up. She called her mother and left a fussy message on her voicemail about Freddie.

Her cousin Pia sent her a link of Celeste dancing on a porch in a Mardi Gras compilation video along with images of Big Chief marching through their neighborhood. Returning to work, she led the finished diners back to their private rooms, or to the evening movie watch-party in the commons area.

She stopped in front of the doorway of Miss Irma's room. She cracked the door open and peeked inside. Terry held his head down near his grandmother's thigh. He slept soundly. Miss Irma's labored breathing became more pronounced and Celeste recognized the wet, gurgling noise with each exhaled breath released. Her time was near.

She reached down to close the door all the way and Miss Irma turned her head, lining her gaze with Celeste. Miss Irma's lips moved and Celeste couldn't hear what she said. She moved into the room quietly, trying not to wake Terry.

She bent over the bed to listen.

"Keep her," Miss Irma said, each word a strain on her breathing. "No matter what Papa says…no matter…what no one says…keep her."

She raised a weak hand and pointed toward her closet.

"The truth… is in there, child."

Terry shifted his head on the bed and opened weary eyes.

"Mémé?" he murmured.

"Oh, I do love you so…Papa," Miss Irma said.

He kissed his grandmother's cheek, and Miss Irma closed her eyes.

For good.

Terry's lips parted, but no sound came out, his grief so profound that vibrations in the air couldn't push out his pain of another loss. He held Miss Irma's hand and stared at her as if he could bring her back with a loving gaze.

"I'm truly all alone," he whispered.

Miss Irma's heart monitor alerted the medical staff and Celeste exited the room, blindly wandering in the opposite direction. She left the facility and cried against her car. Ten minutes later, she pulled it together again and walked back to Miss Irma's room.

The medical staff allowed Terry to sit with Miss Irma's deceased body for an hour. Celeste pulled up a chair and sat next to him in silence. Terry stared at Miss Irma with a damp face and a sorrowful mood.

"Even when you know it's coming, you're never prepared…not really. Ninety-nine years she walked this earth and loved me for every single one of them."

He closed his eyes and a single tear ran down his left cheek.

"I was so grateful to know her," she said.

Terry reached for Celeste's hand and held it on his thigh.

"You were a light in her lonely days while I was away. I can never repay you for the care and love you've shown her the last year of her life."

Anne knocked on the door softly and entered. Celeste knew she had forms prepared for Terry to sign, and two hospice workers waited outside to take Miss Irma away.

"I have to go back to work, but later…tonight, you're welcome to stay with me."

He wiped his face and nodded.

Walking away from Miss Irma and Terry was the most difficult thing to do, but she had to let him deal with the aftercare of the deceased on his own.

Terry cremated Miss Irma's remains.

That surprised Celeste even though Catholics didn't forbid cremation. They had guidelines stating that remains had to be buried in a consecrated place, but an older Catholic like Miss Irma typically preferred a traditional burial with the body kept intact for Resurrection Day. Terry didn't act very religious and sorted out his grandmother's affairs according to her will. Miss Irma had a pre-paid burial package at a local crematorium. Three days after her death, Celeste stood with Terry at the St. Louis Cemetery No. 1 columbarium in the serenity garden. He interred Miss Irma with his cousin Mike and refused to have any kind of service.

Her friends started worrying about how closely she attached herself to Terry, isolating herself more and more from family and associates. She blew them off, wanting to enjoy his company without their interference. The only downside to their relationship was that Celeste dreaded going to work at the elder care facility and the chicken plant. It meant less time spent with him. His bereavement lasted five days, and she traded shifts here and there and called in sick to the chicken plant to make the most of the hours alone with him.

She cooked low sodium soups for him and brewed lots of tea, insisting that he eat and take in liquids despite his grief. He obliged her. They watched lots of movies and held each other in bed at night. He liked to rest his head on her chest while she hummed and stroked his hair until he fell asleep.

She played the piano for him often at sunset, keeping her French doors open so the music drifted outside as the evening breeze cooled down her cottage. Most of her repertoire consisted of gospel hymns or classical arias. As a child, her voice lessons focused on singing classical music and downplaying secular music. Her parents dreamed of her being an opera star. Their greatest disappointment in her musical gifts was the day she dropped out of Tulane University's prestigious Newcomb Department of Music in her junior year. She'd lost sight of what path to take in school and dropped out in frustration. Playing piano and singing were things she enjoyed as a hobby, not a career choice.

Watching Terry shut those gorgeous eyes while she sang "Adoramus Te Christe" thrilled her to the bone. He appreciated her talent, especially the way she could sound down home with all her gospel runs, but then turn around, striking the keys with a fiery piano rendition of German composer Carl Orff's "O Fortuna". She tickled the ivory stirring up playful riffs imitating Professor Longhair and Alan Toussaint. Serenading him with her version of "Ruler of my Heart", Celeste adored the way Terry drank in every sung word, gifting her with his unwavering attention. Music was in the blood of her family, the heart of New Orleans. What was the city without its music? Without Black folks? She poured out her love for New Orleans, her people…and him, through her talented fingers dancing across the keys.

He could never keep his hands off her throughout their time together.

Sometimes he liked to play with her locs absentmindedly while she rested her head on his lap, listening to love songs on her sound system. He'd fondle her breasts, plucking and pinching her nipples at unexpected times, forcing her to take off her shirt and unfasten her bra so he could suck on her tits. She loved getting on her knees and stuffing his dick between her breasts. Titty fucking brought out the beast in him. Nothing was sexier than his eyes narrowing into half slits, watching her soft, ample breasts rub up and down his shaft, his slit dripping copious amounts of sticky fluid. She'd stick the tip of tongue deep into his slit and he'd groan, the rumble in his chest turning her on.

They spent a whole afternoon like that, titty fucking while she was down on her knees, then switching to her reclining on the sectional with him straddling her waist, using his big hands to squeeze her tits while he humped that battering ram between her cleavage like it was her pussy.

She'd squeal when he nutted all over her nipples, then he'd keep stroking his dick until he shot a heavy load on her face next. He'd smear the cum around and make her lick it off his fingers, all the while telling her she was amazing. Her plump tits looked like two big ole pound cakes covered in glazed icing by the time he started jerking off again, aroused beyond measure by her appearance soaked in his creamy white jizz. He repeated this over and over until he shot hot ropes all over her lips and open mouth. His stamina was unreal.

Still covered in semen, he'd flip Celeste over onto his knees and spank her, building up her pain tolerance over a session, and then rub her ass cheeks with those massive palms to soothe the scorching heat his hand strikes left on her backside. Their safe word never had to be used, because he instinctively knew when Celeste reached her limit. She gave herself willingly to him, sucking his dick and balls whenever he needed tender-loving care. Her head bobbing in his lap giving loud sloppy toppy became ritual. He gave as much as he took from her. Reciprocity was his middle name, and he kept his face buried between her legs twice a day.

Bouncing on that big dick became another favorite pastime in the evenings. He'd glue his mouth to her ear and tell her in crude language with throaty groans how much of a good girl she was for taking all of his dick in her tight snatch. She became delirious when he lifted her up and down on his erection, as if she had no weight at all. He stood up and really showed off by arm-curling her on and off his length in the air, her thighs spread across his biceps. They went through two bottles of lube fast… and so many orgasms.

Occasionally they untangled their limbs, and got out of the house to walk to the French Market for fresh air and non-sexual exercise. They picked out interesting arts and crafts, bought pralines, visited Congo Square and checked in with her older cousin who ran the Backstreet Cultural Museum that highlighted Mardi Gras Indian history. Terry walked by her side carrying shopping bags home like they were a regular long-time couple. He came back to himself, being with her. That's what he told her. Celeste's heart grew brave, and she admitted to herself that she was falling in love. The embers of romantic love sparked and burned into a steady glowing orange flame, and each day she added a bit more kindling, keeping the hearth of eros warm in her heart. Terry's affections grew even more pronounced and his actions hinted he felt the same way about her. He took care of her, paying for everything while he stayed with Celeste, even covering her light and gas bill. His mourning period blossomed into courtship.

A week after interring his relatives, Terry asked to do something with her.

"Let me videotape you."

"You really wanted that directing gig, huh?" she teased.

He gently pushed her leg to get her off the couch.

"Set up your camera and ring lights…right on the floor again," he said. "Wear the burgundy bra and panties. Throw on your six-inch heels…bring me the binding rope, too."

Celeste set about gathering her equipment and dressed the way he wanted. He stuck the dildo on the floor and adjusted the lighting to a natural setting that mimicked warm outdoor light. She pulled her carnival mask over her eyes. The only make-up she used was a pink lip gloss.

She stood before him and handed over the red satin binding rope. He tied her upper body carefully, creating a line of small knots along her spine, and bound her arms together, pressed into her chest.

"Comfortable? Not too tight?" he asked, mindful of not stopping her circulation.

"I'm good," she said.

His gaze dusted across her form, approving of the physical masterpiece waiting to do his bidding. Freddie used to pester her about letting him handcuff her to their bed a lifetime ago and she always refused, uncomfortable with being hooked to a headboard.

Look at her now. Tied up by a man she hadn't known a mere two weeks ago.

Terry ran his large hand down her side, testing the bondage rope and stroking her skin. He frowned and shook his head, undoing the rope quickly.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Take the underwear off. Your skin looks better with the rope by itself," he insisted.

She pulled off her bra and shimmied out of her panties with his help keeping her balance. He tied the rope again, but this time he placed various knots on her erogenous zones, nipples, and clit. The unused length of rope he turned into a leash knotted loosely at the front of her throat. He held the leash in his hand, turning her into his sexual pet. She liked that her arms were free, even though he was in control of her movement.

The emerald coloring of his eyes became alluring sirens. They matched his inviting lips and aroused her all over. Every time she moved, a knotted portion of the rope rubbed, tugged, or created friction on her sensitive parts. Especially her clit. Terry licked his fingers and pushed a small knot into that swelling jewel.

"Sticky already," he said, licking his fingers. "My little nasty girl."

His voice sounded deeper…hungry. Her pussy started purring then. He tugged on the rope resting on both sides of her vulva and she whimpered. The friction there felt exquisite on her soft, plump outer labia. He left just enough space for her opening to remain available for his use.

"How did I get so lucky to find you, Celeste?"

She pressed her eyes shut. The vibration of his voice teased the skin on her neck. He kissed her throat and licked a favorite spot that he always buried his teeth in when he came inside of her. The bruising on her neck, under her breasts, and on her left thigh never went away completely. Those times he did bite her—and he bit often—brought on a high better than smoking weed. He'd bite, suck at the skin like he was giving a hickey, and she'd float into a cosmic orgasm every time.

He moved his lips to her chin and kissed her there, his tongue tracing circular swirls until he reached her ear.

"I want you to ride that dildo like you're riding me. Can you do that?"

"Yes."

He kissed her and pried her lips apart with his tongue, darting inside her mouth with an ardor that overwhelmed her ability to stay in the present. Her mind flew away into the future, dreaming of romance and building a life with him. Pure fantasy.

He pulled away from her lips and held her trembling body.

"Crying? Why, baby?" he asked.

She shook her head, and he hugged her.

"Should we stop this?" he breathed.

"No. I can do it."

"Are you sure? Have I done something to upset you?"

"No…I'm happy. I want this…I want you…"

He grinned so hard that his gums showed, looking like a little kid who won first prize at a Spelling Bee. Did he smile at his wife that way when she was alive? Celeste thought about that woman more and more. Could Terry love her enough to want to wife her up one day?

He stroked the side of her face with the back of his hand.

"I love you," he said.

Celeste's heart imploded.

Her knees quaked, and he held her against him with a beatific smile on his gorgeous face.

"Do you feel the same about me?"

Celeste threw her arms around his neck, and he lifted her onto her toes. He chuckled and pressed his forehead against hers.

So fast…it all came about so fast that Celeste wasn't sure that she hadn't made up the encounter or the words that came out of his divine lips.

He loved her. Truly, madly, profoundly.

They kissed again, their tongues sliding into sweet configurations, each one of them trying to show the other the depth of their feelings. Celeste even thanked Freddie in her heart for showing his ass and removing himself from her life to make way for this light-eyed prince who swept her off her feet literally.

Terry spun around with her in his arms and she laughed, feeling dizzy from the rush of love confessions.

He checked the camera settings to record her, and Celeste crouched over the lubed up dildo in her high heels and knotted rope binding.

"Show me how much you love me," Terry said.

His eyes took on a deadly seriousness and Celeste shook her hips and reached down to her toes, displaying her wide open labia. Her pussy twitched in anticipation of penetration, and Terry groaned behind the camera.

"That's it, Celeste…baby that pussy is glistening."

She rolled her hips and lowered her body down to the floor, crouched on her heels, and rested her vulva against the tip of the jet black dildo. The toy was flexible and bent at an angle to help her control how deep it went. Patting her labia, she fingered herself, playing for the camera and him.

"Right there baby, hold it…"

She squeezed her vaginal muscles, letting her opening wink open and closed for him. Glancing over her shoulder, she watched Terry tug on his dick through his gray sweatpants. He already had a tent pitched there and his pre-cum stained a visible quarter-sized wet spot.

"Slide down on that shit," he commanded.

His voice echoed in her ears, and she obeyed.

Up and down she went. The dildo spread her pussy lips apart and her tight opening choked it with loud squelching noises. Terry's eyes volleyed back and forth from the laptop on the coffee table and the camera lens he recorded from. He held the leash end of the bondage rope and it gave the appearance of the viewer controlling Celeste's body. She wound her hips and slid on and off the dildo, riding the tip, constantly looking over her shoulder, her mask creating the mystery ultra-fuck experience that her viewers paid to see. She turned around to face the camera, using her strong knees to rock forward and back on the fake dick. Terry pulled on the rope, forcing her head up.

"Got that dick creamy, baby," he said.

Celeste slapped her vulva and looked at how frothy she made the dildo. She fucked it like it was Terry's fat dick. He stopped looking at the camera view screen and watched her fuck with gushy pussy live. Celeste became wet enough to start making splashing noises each time she dropped down on the dildo. The knots in the rope spurned her on, their friction on her nipples and clit leading her to a dangerous precipice.

Terry pulled down his sweatpants just enough to release a massive erection that he stroked above her with delicious erotic skill. It looked so fat and juicy. Her mouth watered and her pussy contracted after a long stream of pre-cum spilled out of his tip and fell onto her thigh. Celeste pressed into her clit with the rope knot, and an unhurried orgasm rippled in surging waves along her outer labia, causing her to squirt all over the floor. She'd never done that before. Terry's dick started spitting cum after her release, and his semen rained down on Celeste, covering the satin rope in wet, messy splashes. Her lover's eyes burned with lust and he pulled her onto her feet by the leash.

Spinning her around, he penetrated her standing up, bending her forward and yanking on her locs. Gripping her throat, he pummeled her cheeks, sinking that thick heat deep into her until his balls slapped against her ass. It wasn't enough for him.

Tossing her over his shoulder, he carried her into the bedroom and dropped her onto the bed. He entered her again with one thrust and she gasped at the sensation of fullness.

"Tell me you love me," he begged.

The earnestness in his tone shocked Celeste. He needed verbal reassurance from her that he wasn't alone in the sentiment.

"I love you, Terry."

"Say it again…again…again…baby…"

He loved on her like she'd never been loved on before. Pure. Gentle. Real.

"Fuck me…yes…I feel you squeezing me, shit…don't stop…damn, girl! Damn, Celeste…fucking this dick…keep fucking me…ooh shiiiiit!"

Terry stopped short of cumming and untied her. He rubbed the indentation marks on her skin, kissing each one until satisfied that he soothed them all.

"Feeling okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine."

He lowered his head to suck on her nipples. She rubbed on his hair and he tended to her breasts like it was his first time playing with them.

His large physique covered her in muscles, sweat, and even tears. He kept his watery eyes on her face, and they repeatedly told one another, "I love you."

It had to be real.

His dick stretched her pussy in ownership. She pointed her toes at the ceiling and gripped his wide back, her nails digging into his sweaty flesh, breaking skin. He cried out her name, and that alone triggered her pussy to spasm and send tight contractions along the length of his dick. The orgasm that curled her toes came deep within, down in the bottom of her pussy where his dick rested. Celeste's eyes rolled back. He plunged his teeth into the side of her neck, sucking with those full lips and greedy tongue. His dick swelled and pumped warm cum into her. Thrashing her head about, she couldn't get over how he wrecked her walls. He spilled deep into her womb and she wept, her pussy still throbbing around him.

Celeste could've died happy in that moment. Cumming on the dick of the man she loved…and who loved her back…priceless.

"I love you…I love you…I love you," he said over and over until she passed out.

Heavy raindrops.

Celeste made coffee for herself and Terry in her kitchen. Her faded light blue house dress looked just as gloomy as the weather outside. She poured the liquid into mugs full of cream and sugar, stirring them with a spoon before carrying them out into her living room.

Terry peered at the courtyard through the French doors. The curtains were drawn back so they could watch water falling from the sky.

"Doesn't look like it'll clear up today," she said, watching him.

He didn't acknowledge her right away, just stared up at the darkening clouds.

He'd been with her for an additional week and his mood had changed. Their interactions and lovemaking remained top notch, but his mind seemed preoccupied with something outside of her.

He was afraid of something.

On their outings he walked like a man dodging trouble, preferring to avoid crowds and always looking over his shoulder. He gave her money to buy food alone and holed up in her house like a shut-in. She questioned him about his behavior and he claimed to not be feeling well. Spooked and nervous, Terry became a different person and no amount of cajoling from her made him open up about it.

She handed him a mug and he turned to look at her.

"I think it'll rain all week," he said.

She walked over to the sectional and sat down, sipping her coffee and dreading going to work at the chicken plant in a few hours. Terry sighed and drank from his mug.

Celeste moved over to the piano to play him something comforting, but the first chord she struck on a piano key didn't sound right.

Terry's somber eyes looked gray in the distance between them.

"I have to go back home, check on the restaurant with my business partner. I've been away too long and I have responsibilities there," he said.

She nodded in understanding, swallowing the lump that grew in her throat.

"Will you be able to come back and see me?" she asked.

"Not for a while, Celeste."

"I get it. You had a life before you came here. I can't expect you to stay forever."

"Baby, don't cry…"

Celeste covered her face with her left hand. Terry sat down next to her on the piano bench.

"Hey…hey…" he said.

He hugged her, and she cried into his neck. The man had proved that there was love after love, and she wished she could relive every moment she spent with him. She sensed deep down that he didn't want to leave...but had to. If a man couldn't tell her the truth about why he wanted to go away, she was smart enough to let him leave. He told her once he had issues in the past being in New Orleans. Maybe it was some old gangster shit and he had to get outta Dodge fast. Whatever it was, she wasn't going to get involved.

Celeste rested her head against his chest so she could listen to his heartbeat and remember it. The rain outside did the rest of the crying for her.

Chapter 9 HERE.

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hyqerfixation · 2 years ago

Text

WAITER SAT AT THE TABLE

-art by ringorenji88 on twitter.

OKKK YAKUZA PILLARS WE LOVE..

Kny boys Drabble NOT FINISHED..

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

"oh shit for real? The pillars are here!? " the pianist asked in shock

"yeah u can see them in the vip seating on the other side of the casino"

"oh for fuck sakes, another fight is probably gonna happen some time soon. "

"you bet"

After hearing the two colleagues gossip Y/n placed her old hairbrush back into her bag.

“What the fuck are pillars?” Y/n thought.

The strip club was definitely something,a popular angle wing in the outskirts of the city of japan

But how could she describe this club?

Utter shit

Female hookers only had a little bit to get ready for their customers, and the bartenders had even less time to change into their uniforms and set the stools down before the casino gets ready

Too add on, the club didn't have a wonderful dressing room for performers to get "all dolled up," as many owners put it, so she dressed up in the ladies employees restroom as long with her female colleagues.

____________________________________________

"HELP Y/N I CANT ZIP MY DRESS UP AND I HAVE TO GO OUT ANY MINUTE!"

"ume calm down jesus fucking crist, Turn around ill do the zip."

Y/N zipped up the performers outfit, which was way more flashier then her skutty uniform.

"daki ur late ur supposed to be on stage letter A right now!"

Another performer exclaimed, rushing daki out of the females room.

"OKAY OKAY I'M COMING ALRIGHT" daki turned around to y/n who was also supposed to be out on her shift right now.

"LET'S MEET UP LATER MM K?"

Y/N sighed lightly while giving a suttle smile

"sure" y/n replied on her way to follow daki to the exit.

Y/n exited the bathroom, leaving her aftershow clothes in on the bathroom sink as long as her bag, and began shifting her fingerless gloves.

“I should’ve pretended to sick today smh” she thought.

"hey y/n! What's up w being late all the time. We could've had a smoke break together."

"i would of been here five minutes ago but I was helping your sister "

Y/ns workmate, also known to be gyutaro rolled his eyes as he gave y/n her note pad and biro pen.

"whatever dude, but come tell me when your on your next break so we can go smoke mm k?"gyutaro said

Y/N waved him goodbye as she slowly walked away.

"we could've talked longer if u came on the right fucking time."

"mm k!" y/n mimicked, taking notes how the siblings act like each other.

Y/N walked out of the bar counter and pushed a stool aside her to continue on to taking orders.

Yet while she looked around she noticed all her work mates avoided the back left,also known as the more "mightier side". Was there someone big there? But if it was someone famous there wouldn't everyone be offering to take their order?

It didn't make sense.

Y/N walked towards to back without a ponder. There wasn't anyone to take the people's orders since the waiters scurried to take their orders, as if they were avoiding a certain table.

'whatever this is; i need that bag, so I guess I'm just going to have to deal with whatever hits me.' y/n thought.

High heels clanked on the ground while y/n search for a table to assist, only for-

"y/n! Y/n!"

She turned around.

"sasumaru? What's up with you?"

Sasumaru was one of y/ns closet friends at the casino, besides the siblings. She wanted to be a volley ball player but failed at everything ever since she was put under house arrest.

"I'm begging you to do that vip table! All of us are to scared to do it!"

"Well why, its not like they are gonna try to kill u for getting their order wrong."

Sasumaru laughed sarcastically

"they tried to kill yahaba because he asked if they wanted ice in their drink!" sasumaru exclaimed, rocking y/n back and fourth by the collar.

"whatever, I'll do it" y/n dead panned

"Are u so sure after hearing what I just told u!" sasumaru panicked even more

"yes it's fine I'll just do what they say, no questions, no ice."

Sasumaru stopped and starred at y/n

"Now will you let me go?" y/n asked.

"AAAAA UR SO COOL Y/N!!! SO BRAVE TOO, JUST LIKE ME"

Y/N pulled sasumaru off her and continued to walk to the vip room

'if u were brave like me, u would be walking to the vip lounge' y/n giggled to her self.

"hey babe what's ur number?"

"look at the fat in her back!"

"I would smack that"

Y/N grumbled to her self about these comments, much to her dismay shes pretty much used to the cat calling here. The manager doesn't really give a shit about the treatment his female employees get here.

'tch, whatever. Fucking saddos'

Y/N walked to the vip table, no in closer inspection she saw a group of men.

Rich men.

Rich and powerful men.

How could y/n tell they were powerful? Doesn't the silent tables of men around them tell you enough? What about the employees refusing to serve any where over here? Is that enough?.

"what could I get for you guys" y/n asked carefully, remembering what happend to yahaba.

"finally someone flashy to help us order!" one of the men said. His hair silver white with magenta eyes that popped. Jewellery coated his body with a expensive tuxedo.

"can I please just have some water? I hope that's okay." the other man said, he was way more bigger then the others and had a red beaded necklace on, his eyes were-wait, is he blind?

"CAN I PLEASE HAVE SOME HOT WINGS" a booming voice asked, his eyes were orange and red, matching with his hair.

"shut the fuck up Kyojuro. I want a sex on the beach cocktail" another white haired male asked, his appearance way more scary then the others with his scars that show from his face to where the tuxedo is undone to show more scars.

"I want the same as sanemi!" the male from the start exclaimed again.

Y/N noted all of these

"anything else?"

"how about you darling?" the flashy man asked. y/n internally screamed inside.

"can uzui shut his mouth for ten seconds" the man known as uzui smacked the scar face beside him while the others laughed.

Y/N walked away when they finished their order.

Okay! Maybe they are a little bit imtimidating.

Yeah, especially when she realised she saw them on the news for murder half way through their order.

But it's fine. It won't bother her THAT badly. Would it?.

"what's up with you? You are all shaken up."

"I just realised I was taking the fucking pillars orders"

"Are you fucking stupid? Everyone knew that's why they stayed closer to the entrance."

Y/N clicked her tounge, she knew that she was stupid but she Just wanted some more money! Cut her some slack!

"I did hear the pianist talk about it outside of getting changed. I didn't really deep much into it though."

Gyutaro placed the drinks on a round black tray along with some hot wings.

"I mean it's your problem now, and to be honest if they didn't like you, you would have been dead by now."

Y/N awkwardly smiled, knowing shes fucked.

"yeah yeah whatever."

She grabbed the tray and started to walk back towards the mobsters

I mean are they really mobsters? even though how imtimidating they were, they somewhat respected you.

They respected you way more then other people you are close with.

"look at her body."

"she's hot."

"yo guys should I ask for her number?"

At this point y/n couldn't even hear the things that were said about her. She was too focused about the men on the Vip table. Is she scared? Incredibly. Is she going to act like nothings bothered her about them? Yes. She is.

The platform heels platters the floor, alarming the men on the table.

"I see your back so soon"

The bling guy said, clasping his hands together.

"took her time didn't she." the scarface complained, tapping his finger on the table.

"don't be so rude sanemi."

" and how the fuck am I being rude?!?"

Y/N placed their drinks down, ignoring how her body's shaking from the pillars infront of her.

"so lady! How long have you been working here?"

Y/N paused at what she was doing and looked up to the fire head who just asked her a question.

"just under a year."

Kyojuro nodded and smiled

"that's nice, you look so young though how old are you?"

Sanemi who sat on the edge of the table hanged his leg out

"I bet not a day over 19"

Y/N chuckled lowly, letting her guard down

"I'm 23"

Uzui spat his drink out

"HUH"

Gyomei smiled towards y/n, he felt comfortable around her arua.

He couldnt explain it, she just seems nice to hang around with.

Y/N chuckled again

"do I really look that young? -"

"NO WAY UR MY AGE"

Uzui shouted light heartily, maybe he could have a 4th wife.

"how about she sits down with us? Since u guys are obsessing over her like bitchy dogs."

Sanemi complained, true they were acting like dogs, but he would be lying if he didn't want to talk to y/n too.

"that's not a bad idea!" Rengoku exclaimed while tengen patterned on the the sofa like chair in between him and Kyojuro.

"how about you sit here precious?"

Y/Ns face paled, does she have a choice? I mean she doesn't mind sitting between them she's just worried her boss would think she's slacking off again.

"don't force her, remember she has a job to do." gyomei said to the two, for sanemi to agree

"I'll pay her to sit with me, her job is to get money from customers right? Come sit down with us darling."

Uzui said, while rengoku took a few papers out of his wallet.

"It's fine if you don't want to! We will still pay for our drinks." Rengoku re assured y/n.

Y/N smiled softly, forgetting her worries about any of them.

"cmon girl they will be asking all night if u don't say anything." sanemi grumbled, embarrassed of the two weirdos on the table with him.

"sure.but not for to long"

"BETTER THEN NOTHING!" Rengoku shouted, for uzui to nudge sanemi to move for y/n to get in.

Sanemi stood up and put his hand on her shoulder.

"come on uzui we don't have all day."

"Sorry my fatass Is making it harder to get out, I know you can't relate sanemi" uzui chuckled to make sanemi embarrassed. Y/n chuckled lowly, just to embarrass him more.

"whatever, in you get girl"

Y/N nudged over to Kyojuro, only to smile at each other while ignoring gyomei telling uzui to not body shame anyone.

"It's not my fault he fails at squats" uzui said nudging over to sit next to y/n

Which made her sandwiched between two physco extroverts who wears expensive tuxedos

Nothing else could get worse then it already is.

"so pretty face, what's your name?" sanemi asked, fed up of the name calling.

"I bet her name is really cool!"

"I bet its something snazzy"

Gyomei took a sip of his water and looked over to y/n

"whatever her name is, it would be beautiful."

Y/N was going to answer sanemis question once she had some of uzuis drink, that he offered her.

"my name is -"

"Y/N."

#demon slayer #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #anime #kny x reader #kny yakuza au #thank you dear anon #aesthetic #art #gaming #writing #rengoku x reader #sanemi x reader #uzui x reader #gyomei x y/n #kny x y/n #hashiras #upper moons #gyutaro and daki

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chronicallycouchbound · 1 month ago

Note

do you have any tips for being unhoused like survival tips or even just stuff that makes life easier

Absolutely!

Before I give my advice I want to start with my most important piece of advice first: I have lots of personal experience with a few different aspects of being unhoused, I have been unhoused in frigid climates, in warmer climates, for many years, with some warning and also very suddenly, as a child with parents, as a child without parents, as an adult, couch surfing, sleeping outside, sleeping in cars, sleeping in bandos, living in a homeless shelter, living in transitional living programs, and then all of those things intersect with my various other marginalized experiences. I say all this because I want to also say that while I have extensive experiences, I don't know everything, and might miss things, or give advice that might not work in your case. So take everything with a grain of salt, including from me, for your own safety. You know your situation best, so do whatever you need to in order to survive.

Some general tips:

Aways bring extra clothes wherever you go: especially socks and underwear, they are small and light and life-savers, and homelessness often puts you in situations where you can suddenly lose everything, especially if something is left somewhere

Public libraries, churches, fast food stores and cafes are great to hang out in when it’s cold out. Unitarian Universalist Churches are (almost always) LGBTQ+ safe and affirming as well.

Shower as often as possible, the YMCA usually has cheap day passes and it’s a place to stay all day.

If you can’t shower: find a public restroom and use the sink to do a "bird bath": rinse/wash your hair, grab some paper towels or use the hand dryer to dry your hair, and use toilet paper or paper towels to rinse and dry your underarms and genitalia areas, especially when it’s hot or you’ve been sweating. Make sure you can dry off, wetness in cold is quickly life threatening, and wetness and heat breeds bacteria (which makes you stinky at best, but can also lead to skin issues)

Take extra plastic utensils, get salt/pepper packets, sauce packets, etc. as often as you can, ONLY if you have someplace to keep them (like a tent/car), small things like that can really make a difference when you're eating ramen over a fire every day, and helped keep me slightly closer to sane.

Only carry with you what you absolutely need, and always carry with you what you absolutely need.

Make friends everywhere you go, but be cautious and careful. You want to be amicable, not naive. You don't have to be trusting to be friendly.

Be friendly and overly kind to people working, they could help you later on. I have had my ass saved by so many random employees. Even if you're having a bad day, they're the people you should be kindest to. (Also be kind to service workers when not homeless, ofc)

Collect change on the streets or panhandle if it is safe and legal for you to. You can also collect bottles/cans to return, or recycle aluminum.

Look up free campsites, pantries and shelters for your area. Shelter App - Homeless Resources is a free app and website that is still kind of new, but I've seen more and more resources being added to them. Most states have a generalized hotline that's usually like a "411" or "211" or similar type phone line.

Try to always have an active phone with service, or at least a charged phone you can call emergency services on in case you need to.

Try to avoid getting into crime, drugs, alcohol/cigarettes, etc. It’s all expensive, gets you in trouble and does you no good.

However, if you are an active user: look up local needle exchanges, suboxone clinics, free narcan/naloxone, PREP and PEP (HIV prevention meds), emergency rooms, and practice harm reduction as much as possible. Try to never use alone, if using in a bathroom, keep the door unlocked. In my experience, even if you're sober or in recovery, harm reduction organizations are often amazing resources to connect you to other resources

Items I didn't realize were so life saving for me until later: blanket scarves, wool socks (natural fiber is the only thing that stays warm even when wet), baby wipes (washing body, tp replacement, etc), hand warmers, clothes that look more bougie like wearing a pea coat (stopped less by cops), carbineer clips, earbuds (for sanity), and my most prized possession to this day; my solar powered/hand crank/rechargable combination flash light, usb charger radio. Any item you need that is made for sports/hiking/etc. is often better, and any items that are multipurpose are wonderful.

And since we're headed into the colder months, here’s my advice for if you don’t have adequate heating, homeless or not:

Make soups or even just keep a pot of water boiling, and bake things if you can. I like to make teas in the morning for this purpose. Eating enough food (if you can) helps dramatically increase your core body temp.

Take a shower BEFORE the coldest parts of the day, or skip the shower til it’s warm enough to. If you absolutely need to, use warm wet washcloth and work in sections of your body so you don’t have to be fully naked and wet all at once. If you can’t be in a warm enough location afterwards— avoid getting your hair wet at all costs especially if you have thick hair. If you’re at higher risk of cold related illnesses like hypothermia and frostbite, such as disabled and chronically ill folks, I would highly recommend avoiding anything that causes you to get wet if you can’t get warm afterwards.

Make a blanket fort or use a tent indoors to spend your time in and sleep in

Drink tea/cocoa/hot beverages, avoid ice or cold drinks. Avoid alcohol specifically if you can because it lowers your body temp while making you feel warm, which can be dangerous.

Cuddle with your pets (even pets that don’t normally cuddle often are cuddly during cold spells as a survival response)

Wear thermals and layers if youre up and moving, but make sure to pre-warm any clothes you change into by tucking them into the blankets with you for a while.

If you have someone to cuddle with as close as possible, do it, also wear less clothes, thinner clothes or shorts when under blankets and cuddling, you share way more body heat that way, whereas thermals and layers will only keep your heat to yourself

If you have cold feet: take off your socks under blankets (and keep socks under blankets before putting back on) and keep a hot pad under blankets near your feet. Thick socks are great for insulation— but if your feet are cold, insulation means it’ll keep that cold in and keep the heat out. You have to add your own heat, and once they’re warm, you can put the socks back on.

Tin foil, trash bags, and blankets on windows if you don’t have plastic.

Keep doors closed and use rolled blankets or towels to stop drafts. Try to stay in one room if your whole home is cold, smaller spaces are easier to keep warm. Keep doors closed. Keep window shades closed (if you have south-facing windows, you can open t hem during the day and close them at night)

If you don’t have a mummy sleeping bag, a hoodie with the strings pulled comfortably tight can be a good substitute especially if paired with another sleeping bag.

Layer blankets for insulation. Closest to your body, have hot pads and heated blankets, then a reflective blanket to direct heat back towards you, use fluffy blankets and comforters next for insulation, and on top, have something heavy to help seal the heat in and push that heat towards you.

Blanket layers: first, heated blanket/hot pad/hot water bottle/etc, then reflective blankets/emergency blankets (there are reusable ones!)/sleeping bag, then fluffy blankets, then your heaviest/thickest blanket on top (quilt, weighted blanket, tarp, etc). If you don’t have one/multiple of these, just layer what you have following this guide as much as possible.

I like to have at least one fluffy blanket wrapped near my head/neck to keep as much warm air in the blankets as possible when I move my arms. Snuggies and blanket scarves work great for this.

If you’re on a thin bed, an air mattress, or don’t have a bed, put something below you for insulation from the cold ground. Any high quality sleeping bags temperature recommendation is always based on having good insulation below you. Cardboard, yoga mats, foam, blankets, coats, etc. all work.

Be vigilant for signs of frostbite and hypothermia, especially in children, disabled, elderly and pregnant folks. Remember to follow frostbite and hypothermia guidelines for re-warming and get medical attention for these whenever possible.

Have an emergency go-bag ready with your medications, chargers, clothes and other essentials in case you need to leave your residence.

Be sure to not accidentally give yourself CO2 poisoning or cause fires or explosions with whatever heating method you use. Anything with gasoline, propane or other fuel sources are generally not safe for indoor/closed space usage.

Don’t let yourself get so warm you sweat, you can lose a lot of heat that way and the wetness will make you cold which is hard to recover from.

When you get out of bed or from blankets, fold the blankets back over where you just laid to retain the heat for when you climb back in. Even if you have to be gone an extended period of time, this keeps the cold out. You can also preheat heated blankets for when you get back into bed (like turning on the heated blanket before you go shower)

Lights have a lot of ambient heat, as do appliances, especially larger appliances. Even having your laptop on your lap and using it can help you warm up.

If you’re able to be up and moving or do light exercise while you have to be out of blankets, thats the best time to do it. Again, be mindful of sweating.

If you’re homeless and unsheltered and don’t have a camp, sleep in the daytime in the warmest parts of the day, and walk around at night to avoid freezing to death. Savor a hot tea or hot coffee at fast food places if you can afford it.

Single use hand warmers can be saved if they still have heat by putting them in an airtight ziplock bag. When you want to use them again, you just open the bag to expose them to air. If you can and have a way to use them, invest in reusable ones (there’s electric ones and also ones you can boil to reset). Hot water bottles are another good option but often come with a higher risk of being burned.

Also, if you have any more specific situations you'd like advice for, I'd be happy to make posts for those as well, it's hard to add/think of everything that helps every situation, and a lot of my advice would change if you stay in a shelter, for example. I really hope this helps, and I hope you find safe, stable, and reliable housing soon.

#asks #homelessbastard #chronically couchbound #unhoused #homeless #houseless #asks answered #answered asks #homeless advice #unhoused advice #houseless advice #advice #life hacks #homeless life hacks

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auti-starshine · 3 months ago

Text

I have recently (in the past month) started using a cane to help with my chronic pain.

I work at a super market and use my cane at work. I was cleaning the restrooms last week and left my cane in the women’s room while I went to clean the men’s. I came back and my cane was gone. Spoke to my manger and we checked cameras and found out it was a coworker from a different area of the store who stole it.

I don’t give a fuck who you are, if you’re also dealing with chronic pain, if you’re poor, whatever, stealing someone’s mobility aid is NEVER okay. When telling people about this I kept hearing people excuse the coworkers actions and it was so frustrating. I don’t care if you thought it was abandoned, take it to the front of the store and turn it in to an employee. I don’t care if you need a cane and can’t afford one/don’t have one, you can’t just steal someone else’s.

I NEED MY CANE TO WALK

I need my mobility aid and someone stealing it has greatly disrupted my life and caused a huge flare up. Anyways, a huge fuck you to that lady, and a post I never thought i’d have to make saying:

DONT STEAL PEOPLES MOBILITY AIDS!!!

#starshine talks #disabled #chronic pain #disability #mobility aid #cane user

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the-froschamethyst4 · 1 year ago

Text

Suit

➤ Day 7

𖤐 Pairing: Husband! Price x Wife! Reader

𖤐 Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐 Warnings: Smut, NSFW, married couple, hand job, blowjob, kissing, eating out, slightly aggressive, biting, age gap

𖤐 Summary: Price works from home, he absolutely loves it, working from home and getting a good fuck in from his wife. He was in an important meeting when his wife comes in and gives him some help since she was his ex-secretary, so, she knows his strengths and weaknesses

———————

Price was getting ready for an important meeting; he was going to discuss to his employees about how the marketing is all of a sudden dropping.

He started to business after leaving the Military and so far, his sales have been through the roof but recently, they've been dropping, and he doesn't know why.

Y/n his wife sat on the couch watching TV in one of Price's t-shirts, her knees to her chest as she looked at the screen. Y/n use to Price's secretary so she knew everything and anything about him.

She was a newly fresh graduated College student and became his assistant almost right after graduating, his company is top of the line and everyone wanted to work for him, and she got to work so close with him that he fell in love with her and married her. They've been married for 5 years now.

Price didn't care if people judged them or anything, he loves Y/n even if some people don't think they should be together.

Price leaned in his chair looking at the computer screen. Price turned to his left and looked at a couple pictures of his and Y/n's wedding, Y/n looking beautiful in her wedding dress, her with a beautiful smile on and lovely red and pink roses in her hands.

Another was a little more scandalous, Y/n was on a bed on her back wearing black lacy lingerie, it was her and Price's 3-year anniversary and Y/n went to a professional photographer and took sexy photos to surprise Price with. Obviously, he loved them that he kept some in his wallet, on his nightstand next to his side of the bed and even a few on his desk, that he stares at ALL THE TIME!

Y/n knows about him having those photos scattered around the house and isn't ashamed by them but does wish he puts them somewhere else when they have guest over.

Y/n went to the kitchen and poured herself some hot water and grabbed a tea bag, she dipped it in the hot water and walked into Price's office.

Price looked up when he heard feet sticking to the hard wood floor, he saw his wife in the doorway and smiled at her.

"Honey," he coos, he smiles at her as she walked to the other side of the desk and sat on his lap. She looks at the computer seeing that he was in a meeting.

"Can they see us right now?"

"No, I told them I was going to use the restroom but really, I'm trying to solve this shit, and they can't hear us either," he says, showing her the papers of the low sales. Y/n grabbed the paper from his hand and looked at it.

Y/n use to do the paperwork before Price saw it, but now it was different, he doesn't have an assistant or secretary anymore.

Price watched her face go from excited to serious, he loved that face, it means she was ready for business. He held her waist tightly, hummed when she talked, he wasn't really listening. He then leaned close to her neck and kissed her neck.

She didn't push him away. She let him do whatever he wanted. She was just to use to him being all clingy and handsy, when they first started to date, his eyes never left her body and his hands always wanted to be touching her.

"Price," she said as he was sucking on her neck leaving a purple mark on her skin.

He just hums and keeps going.

His hands went up her shirt squeezing her, and pinching her, she lets out a soft yelp as he squeezes her. She grabbed his hands and looked over her shoulder.

"You need to focus," she said.

"No," he mumbles.

"Yes...y-you...y-you need to focus on...your m-meeting...n-not...not me," she stutters as she tried to get off and push off of him. He just held her tighter.

Price's hands then glide down her thighs squeezing them as he kissed and bit her neck. She blushes at his hands squeezing her, she places the papers done and turned to Price.

Her hands went up his arms to his shoulders, she liked the suit he was wearing, it was one handmade just for him, tailored to fit his muscles, and fit him perfectly.

Her hands went to his matching tie and pulling him close to her face, smashing her lips on his. His hands went back to roaming her body, his hands squeezed her hips and butt.

"Remember when the first week we were dating...you wanted some fun...some risky fun?"

"Yeah? What are you getting at, honey?" He asks.

"I'm getting at is...why not we do that again?" She started to slowly move off his lap down to his knees.

"Honey?"

Her hands opened his legs just slightly, her hand grabbed at his pants zipper and pulled his pants down his ankles, and she grabbed his boxers pulling them down as well.

Her hand moved up and down, he moaned at her hand doing to best work. His hips buck up in her hand, her thumb goes over his tip getting a bit of pre-cum on her thumb.

"Already?" She asks, looking up at him.

"I...I was looking at those photos you took-"

"And you got horny by those?"

"I did," he says as Y/n just giggles and playfully rolls her eyes. She leaned closer to his dick and slapping his hardened dick on her tongue and moaning before taking him whole in her mouth.

She bobs her head up and down earning a moan from him. He places his hand over his mouth and smirked at her.

"Sir, are you ready to move on?" One of his employees asked. Price groaned at being interrupted.

He unmuted himself. "Yeah, yeah, let's move on," Price said as he turned his screen back on but left himself muted.

"Should I stop-"

"Don't you dare say that, and blue ball me, you're funny," he said, bucking his hips again.

She moans around him making him lean his head back, everyone didn't notice but if they did, they'd probably think he was getting bored, not realizing he was getting sucked off by his wife.

Price grabbed a handful of her hair; she goes done a little deeper, his tip definitely hitting the thing in the back of her throat almost making her gag, but she was used to his size.

She moved back up and looked down at his dick that was just begging for her to keep going. Price groaned when her mouth wasn't around him anymore.

Price wasn't listening to his employees anymore, just watching his cute wife. She licked her lips before putting her mouth back around him.

His dick hit the back of her throat and she just went back to bobbing her head up and down. She moans and gags on his dick making him smirk. He knows he's big and he's so glad that his little wife is the only person allowed to see it and wrap around it perfectly.

She moved her mouth again and started to move her hand back up and down. He put his head back groaning and moaning.

"Sir, is everything okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine..." he says. Y/n just looked up at her husband before putting her mouth back around his dick, he bucked his hips up immediately and hitting the back of her throat. She gags on his dick making him smirk.

He grabs a handful of her hair again. She felt him twitch in her mouth, she moved her mouth and cum leaked from the corner of her mouth and cum leaked from his tip. She swallowed the cum in her mouth and licked his tip getting the rest off his tip.

She even licked his base getting the rest off. She looked up at him and smiled. He smirks and cup her chin and leaning down to kiss her lips.

He smirked and kissed her lips again. "I'll be down in a minute," he smirks. He turns off his camera, so, Y/n could leave the office. She got off the floor and kissed Price's lips.

"God, I fucking love you," he mumbles.

"I do too," she said.

She walked out of his office and shut his office door. She walked back to the kitchen to make herself something to eat along for something for Price to eat too.

----------

Price was done with the long meeting. He walks out of his office to get something to eat. He rubs the back of his neck; he was in pain from looking down so much and he needed to walk around, he hates sitting for a long time.

He walks into the kitchen and saw Y/n. She was making something; he smirks and walks around the corner. His eyes widened when he saw her in just an apron.

"Price-"

"Jesus, love," he said, moving his hand down his face.

"What? Is my apron not cute?" It was a white apron with red cherries scattered around it. It was a little apron and the end stopped at her mid-thigh.

"W-Wha-No, no, it's very cute...very, very, very cute," he smirks. "I just wasn't expecting you to...look so cute...and sexy...." he smirks.

She holds the bottom of her apron; Price could just barely see her pussy peeking out from the bottom.

"I just came down for a snack...but I think I may jump straight to dessert," he licks his lips. She just smiles knowing what he meant.

"Well then," she leans on the counter her ass out, elbows on the counter. "Eat up..." she smirks.

He licks his lips, and gets behind her, he smacks her ass earning a yelp from her. He smirks, he leaned to her shoulder and bites her shoulder earning yet another yelp and moan from her lips.

She felt him go down, his hands moved from her lower back to her butt and back of her thighs. He licks his lips and kisses her folds; she moans and moved her thighs together.

"Are you wet, love?" He teased, knowing she was.

"You already know I am," she said. He just chuckles at her.

He licks between her wet folds, she moans and brought her head down, she moans and pushed her butt out a little more.

He pushed his tongue inside of her. She moans and leans on the counter; she looked over her shoulder seeing him looking satisfied with fucking her with his tongue.

"P-Price..." she moans.

"Ssh~ love..." he says smirking.

She turns back and brought her hand behind the back of his head making him push his tongue deeper inside of her. She moans and her knees felt weak.

She almost fell but Price quickly picked her up, she whines not feeling his tongue inside of her anymore. He turns her around and put her on the counter bring her pussy to the edge of the counter. He goes back down and starts putting his tongue back inside of her.

Her feet were on his shoulders, her right hand on the back of his head and her left hand groping her left boob and moaning his name. Price's left hand grips her thigh and his right hand resting on her stomach.

"Ahh~! P-Price," she moans. She could feel herself about to cum in his mouth. He felt his tongue being squeezed by her lower half; he pulled his tongue out and saw white liquid pour out from her lower half.

He smirks and kisses her folds and licks his lips and licks her clean.

"God, you taste so good," he said licking his lips. She just moans every time, he licks her, feeling like she'll cum again if he keeps doing that. And she soon did.

"Love."

"I couldn't help it, you know what you're doing, and it felt good," she moans. He smirks before licking her again.

"O-Oh my god," she moans.

"Don't you cum again," he threatens.

"I-I can't h-help that," she moans.

He just smirks.

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #fandom #fanfic #call of duty #mw2 #cod #captain price #captain john price #price #cod price #price x reader #john price

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fuck-customers · 1 year ago

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Wtf is this audacity? I know we've all had customers argue with us about store policies/rules, etc, but has anyone else had a customer interrupt another customer asking YOU, THE EMPLOYEE a question to incorrectly answer the other customer's question as if they were an employee, and then argue with you, the employee when you corrected them?

What a weird situation.

I was helping Customer A when Customer B asked if she could use the restroom. The restroom was out of order that day, but before I could even get a single syllable out, customer A interjected with "yes! The bathrooms are back there and someone will open it for you!"

Um? No, the fuck they won't.

I told Customer B that the bathrooms are actually out of order today and yet again, Customer A opens her big, fat stupid mouth and tells Customer B to go back to the bathrooms, and also tells another customer who tried to ask about the bathrooms that they were open. I corrected him and he left without incident.

So now I'm irritated.

I turn to Customer A and say "oh I'm sorry, do you work here?" and tell Customer B that Customer A is NOT an employee and does NOT work here, but I do, and I know that the bathrooms are destroyed right now and are out of order.

Customer B seemed weirded out by the whole interaction (understandably) and left and Customer A proceeded to argue with me for the duration of her transaction. It was just bizarre.

Posted by admin Rodney.

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sicknessbysalem · 4 months ago

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Day Ten: Flushed Cheeks (alternative prompt) | Sicktember 2024

for the people who wanted to see sick meadow and caretaker river, here's your snack!

if you have any requests, questions, comments, etc., send them my way!

tw emeto, scat, nausea, getting sick at a bad time

The early afternoon light streamed through the windows of the tavern, casting a warm glow on the rustic wooden tables. Meadow moved behind the bar with practiced ease, her usual bright energy carrying her through the start of her shift.

It was a slower day, the tavern not quite bustling with the evening crowd yet, and she welcomed the quiet. The steady hum of conversation from the few patrons filled the space, and Meadow found a certain comfort in the familiarity of it all.

She hummed softly to herself as she cleaned a row of glasses, her mind half-focused on her plans with River later that evening. They had made plans to spend the night together at River’s place, a quiet night in—something both of them were looking forward to. The thought of it made her smile, though a slight flutter in her stomach caught her attention.

Meadow brushed it off at first, chalking it up to excitement or maybe the lingering effects of skipping breakfast. She was used to the occasional bout of queasiness during a long shift, and it wasn’t enough to slow her down. She continued wiping down the counter, chatting briefly with a couple of regulars who had stopped in for an early drink.

But as the minutes passed, the flutter in her stomach grew more persistent. It wasn’t painful, just uncomfortable—like something wasn’t quite right. She paused, resting a hand on her abdomen for a moment, trying to gauge what was going on. Maybe it was something she ate? She couldn’t think of anything unusual, though.

As the afternoon wore on, Meadow’s stomach grew more unsettled. It was a slow, creeping discomfort, starting as a dull ache and gradually worsening with each passing minute. Her energy faltered slightly as she worked, though she tried her best to keep up appearances. She didn’t want anyone, least of all April, to worry. April had a sixth sense for when something was off, and Meadow didn’t want to cause a stir if this was just a passing thing.

By the time her break rolled around, the discomfort had become impossible to ignore. Her stomach churned, the ache now a deep, persistent knot that made her shift uneasily on her feet. She excused herself from the bar, heading toward the back where the employee restroom was. The walk to the bathroom felt longer than usual, each step sending a wave of discomfort through her gut.

As she entered the restroom, Meadow braced herself against the sink, taking a few deep breaths. She had thought it was just nausea at first—maybe the start of something—but now, standing there in the quiet of the bathroom, she realized it wasn’t nausea at all. It was something different, something deeper, and as her stomach clenched sharply, the realization hit her.

She barely had time to react before she hurried into the stall, her stomach cramping painfully. The moment she sat down, her body gave in, and a sudden, intense wave of diarrhea hit her. Meadow gasped softly, her hands gripping the sides of the seat as the cramping continued, her stomach twisting uncomfortably as it purged itself.

The relief was instant, but it came with a wave of exhaustion that left her leaning forward, her forehead resting in her hands as she tried to catch her breath. She hadn’t expected this—hadn’t even realized how bad it was until it hit her all at once. Her stomach gurgled loudly, the sounds filling the quiet bathroom as she endured another wave of cramps.

Meadow winced as her body continued to expel whatever was bothering it, each bout leaving her feeling more drained. The diarrhea was relentless, coming in sudden, sharp bursts that left her trembling slightly. She pressed her hand against her stomach, willing the cramping to stop, though the discomfort still lingered, a low, constant ache that made it clear she wasn’t done yet.

As she sat there, her mind wandered to River, the plans they had for the night. She had been looking forward to it all day, but now… now she wasn’t so sure she’d be able to make it. The thought made her stomach twist again, though this time, it wasn’t just physical. She didn’t want to cancel on River, didn’t want to ruin their night, but she couldn’t deny that her body was betraying her right now.

Minutes passed, and the worst of the bout seemed to ease. Meadow leaned back, her body feeling weak and shaky from the ordeal. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, feeling the clammy sweat that had formed during the episode. Her stomach was still uneasy, though the cramps had lessened for the moment. She stayed seated for a while longer, not trusting herself to stand just yet, her thoughts swirling as she tried to figure out what to do next.

Meadow had somehow managed to make it through the rest of her shift, though it had been far from easy. Her stomach had settled for a while after that first episode, but the relief hadn’t lasted. Another round of cramping and diarrhea had hit her just before her break ended, sending her back to the bathroom in a rush. By the time she clocked out, she was exhausted and shaky, but still determined to head to River’s.

She hadn’t wanted to cancel their plans. The idea of spending the evening with River, cuddling on the couch and watching a movie, was the one thing keeping her going through the discomfort. Maybe, she thought, now that the workday was over, she could relax, and her stomach would ease up.

When she arrived at River’s place, the familiar warmth and comfort of the space instantly made her feel more at ease. River greeted her with a soft smile and a warm hug, their embrace grounding her as she tried to push the lingering unease in her stomach aside.

“Hey, love,” River said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of Meadow’s head. “You look tired. Long day?”

Meadow smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, long day. But I’m glad to be here now.”

They made their way to the living room, where the soft glow of the television bathed the room in a calming light. Meadow sank into the couch beside River, curling up against them as they wrapped an arm around her shoulders. The scent of River’s familiar cologne mixed with the comforting smell of their home, and for a moment, Meadow allowed herself to relax.

They picked a movie—a lighthearted one—and let it play in the background as they settled into each other’s company. Meadow leaned her head against River’s shoulder, her body seeking the comfort and warmth they always provided. But despite the cozy atmosphere, her stomach had other ideas.

It started with a faint gurgling, a soft, low sound that Meadow could feel more than hear. Her gut twisted slightly, and she shifted on the couch, hoping to ease the discomfort without drawing attention to it. She didn’t want to ruin the evening, didn’t want River to worry about her. But as the minutes ticked by, the gurgling grew louder, and her stomach started cramping again, the familiar pressure building inside her.

River, ever perceptive, must have noticed the slight tension in Meadow’s body. Without saying a word, they gently rested their hand on her stomach, their thumb moving in slow, comforting circles. Meadow’s initial instinct was to flinch away, embarrassed by the gurgling sounds and the discomfort, but the soothing motion of River’s hand eased some of the tension, and she allowed herself to relax against them.

For a moment, it worked. The warmth of River’s touch seemed to calm her stomach, and she closed her eyes, focusing on the steady rhythm of their hand as it moved over her abdomen. But just as quickly as the relief had come, her stomach turned again, this time with a vengeance.

What had once been soothing now felt like a trigger. The pressure in her stomach intensified, and Meadow knew immediately that things had taken a turn for the worse. The cramps were sharper now, more urgent, and she felt a sudden wave of nausea roll through her.

She tensed, pulling away from River’s touch, though she tried not to make it obvious. “I’ll be right back,” she muttered, her voice tight as she stood up, not waiting for River’s response.

River’s brows furrowed in concern, but they didn’t press her as she hurried out of the room and down the hallway to the bathroom. Meadow barely made it inside before the cramping hit full force. She sat down quickly, her stomach churning violently as the diarrhea started again, her body giving in to the discomfort she had been trying to ignore all night.

She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees, her hands pressed to her forehead as her stomach twisted painfully. The cramps were relentless, wave after wave of them hitting her with a force that left her breathless. Her stomach gurgled loudly, the sounds echoing in the quiet bathroom as her body purged itself yet again.

But this time, something was different. As the cramps continued, a new sensation rose in the back of her throat—an unmistakable nausea that made her stomach lurch. Meadow swallowed hard, her heart racing as she fought against the sudden urge to throw up. She closed her eyes, taking shallow breaths as the nausea swirled inside her, the sour taste of bile creeping up her throat.

For a few agonizing moments, she was sure she wouldn’t be able to hold it back. Her mouth watered, her stomach roiled, and she hovered on the edge of vomiting, her body trembling with the effort it took to stay in control. But somehow, she managed to fight it down. The nausea remained, a heavy, uncomfortable presence in her gut, but the immediate threat passed.

Meadow leaned back, her head resting against the cool wall of the bathroom, her breaths coming in short, shallow bursts. She felt drained, both physically and emotionally, her body weak from the constant strain it had been under all day. She stayed there for a while, waiting for the cramps to subside and for the nausea to fade enough for her to move.

When she finally stood up, her legs wobbled slightly, and she had to steady herself against the counter. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror—her face pale, her cheeks flushed, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. She looked as bad as she felt.

Meadow splashed some cold water on her face, hoping it would help her feel a little more composed before heading back out to River. She didn’t want to worry them any more than she already had, but there was no hiding the exhaustion and discomfort etched into her features.

When she returned to the living room, River was sitting on the edge of the couch, their expression tense with concern. They stood up the moment Meadow appeared, their eyes scanning her face for any sign of what had happened.

“Hey… are you okay?” River asked softly, their voice filled with quiet worry.

Meadow forced a smile, though it was weak. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… my stomach’s still acting up a bit. It’s nothing, really.”

River didn’t look convinced. They stepped closer, their hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair away from Meadow’s flushed face. “You don’t look fine,” they said softly, their brow furrowed as they studied her. “You’re really flushed.”

Meadow shrugged, trying to downplay it. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long day, and I think I ate something bad earlier. I’ll be okay.”

River hesitated, their eyes lingering on Meadow’s face, but after a moment, they nodded, letting it go—for now. “Alright,” they said quietly. “But if it gets worse, you’ll tell me, right?”

Meadow nodded, offering them a reassuring smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I promise.”

River still looked worried, but they didn’t press further. Instead, they wrapped an arm around Meadow’s shoulders and led her back to the couch, where they curled up together again, though the atmosphere was a little heavier now. Meadow leaned against them, her body still tense from the discomfort, but she was grateful for their quiet support.

As the movie played on in the background, Meadow closed her eyes, hoping that this time, her body would give her a break. She didn’t want to ruin their night, and with River by her side, she felt a little more at ease—though the lingering nausea in her stomach was a constant reminder that things weren’t quite right.

Meadow had hoped her body would calm down, that the worst had passed, and she could enjoy the rest of the night with River in peace. But as the movie played on, a quiet tension settled over her again. Her stomach, which had been somewhat calm after the last bathroom trip, began to stir once more. At first, it was just an uneasy gurgle, like before, but this time, it was different—more intense, more urgent.

She shifted slightly against River, trying to find a position that would ease the discomfort, but it wasn’t working. Her stomach churned again, this time sharper, a sudden cramp doubling her over slightly as she clutched her abdomen. She hoped it was just another passing wave, but the nausea that accompanied it quickly became impossible to ignore.

River felt it before they saw it—the sudden tension in Meadow’s body, the way her chest tightened against them, and then the unmistakable gag as her stomach rebelled. They turned to look at her, concern flashing in their eyes as they took in her appearance. Meadow was pale—far paler than before—and her eyes were wide with panic, her hand clamped tightly over her mouth as if trying to hold back the inevitable.

“Meadow?” River asked, their voice laced with worry. But there was no time for an answer.

Meadow barely had the strength to shake her head before the nausea surged forward with a force that left her helpless. She stood up, half-stumbling as she tried to get to the bathroom, her hand still pressed firmly to her mouth, her body shaking with the effort to keep it in. But it was no use. Before she could even make it halfway, her stomach gave in.

The first wave hit her hard, her body convulsing violently as she threw up, her stomach emptying itself onto the coffee table in front of her. The sound was wet and harsh, a splatter that filled the quiet room as her body purged itself, leaving her trembling and gasping for air. Her knees buckled slightly, and she leaned forward, clutching the back of the couch for support as another wave hit her, sending more of her stomach’s contents spilling out uncontrollably.

River was at her side in an instant, their hand on her back, their eyes wide with concern. “Meadow—hold on, I’ll grab something—” they began, but before they could move, Meadow gagged again, her body wracked with another heave.

“I can’t—” Meadow managed to gasp, her voice strained as she clamped her hand back over her mouth. The nausea was overwhelming now, a suffocating pressure in her chest and throat that left her feeling trapped in her own body. Worse yet, she could feel the cramping in her stomach shifting lower, the all-too-familiar signal that she needed the toilet as well.

River quickly grabbed a bucket from under the sink, rushing back to Meadow just in time to see her stagger toward the bathroom, her body clearly fighting on two fronts now. “I’m right behind you,” they said quickly, their voice calm despite the chaos.

Meadow barely made it to the bathroom before she collapsed onto the toilet, her stomach cramping violently as diarrhea hit her all at once. The relief was instant, but it came with a price—her body was overwhelmed by the intensity of it all, and before she could even catch her breath, the nausea surged again.

River was right there, holding the bucket up to her just as another wave of vomit ripped through her. Meadow’s body convulsed as she threw up into the bucket, the sound of her retching filling the small bathroom. Each heave was powerful and uncontrollable, her body wracked with tremors as her stomach continued to empty itself. But the diarrhea didn’t stop, either, and with each forceful heave, her lower body clenched painfully, expelling more in unison with her vomiting.

The dual assault on her body left her feeling utterly helpless. Every time she thought it was over, her stomach would tighten again, sending another surge of nausea and cramps through her. The bucket in front of her was quickly filling with vomit, her body giving her no respite as the vomiting and diarrhea continued in a relentless cycle.

River knelt beside her, their hand resting on her back, trying to offer some comfort in the midst of it all. “You’re okay,” they murmured softly, their voice steady and calm despite the chaos. “Just breathe, Meadow. You’re doing great.”

Meadow groaned, her voice weak and hoarse as she leaned over the bucket, another wave of vomit spilling out of her. Her body was trembling uncontrollably, the sheer force of the vomiting leaving her breathless and exhausted. But even as she emptied her stomach, the cramps in her abdomen told her there was still more to come, both from her stomach and her lower end.

“I can’t… I can’t stop,” she gasped between heaves, her voice barely a whisper. Her face was flushed and damp with sweat, her body shaking as she fought to regain control.

River, sensing her distress, shifted closer, their hand moving from her back to her stomach. “Let me help,” they said softly, pressing gently against her abdomen.

The pressure was exactly what Meadow needed. As River’s hand moved in slow, firm circles over her stomach, the cramping seemed to ease slightly, enough for her body to continue expelling everything without the overwhelming sense of being trapped in her own misery. She leaned into their touch, her breath hitching as another wave of nausea hit her, though this time, the vomiting wasn’t as violent.

Meadow’s body continued to purge itself, her stomach convulsing with each heave, though the pressure from River’s hand seemed to help things move more smoothly. The cramps in her abdomen were still sharp, but the added pressure kept them from overwhelming her, and she could feel her body starting to calm, even as it forced the last remnants of the sickness out.

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, the vomiting slowed, and Meadow was left gasping for breath, her body slumped against the toilet as she tried to catch her breath. The diarrhea had slowed too, though the ache in her stomach lingered, a dull reminder of what she had just been through.

River stayed by her side the entire time, their hand still resting on her abdomen, their touch warm and steady. “You did great,” they murmured softly, brushing a strand of sweat-soaked hair from her face. “Just rest now. It’s over.”

Meadow nodded weakly, too exhausted to speak. Her body felt heavy and drained, her muscles trembling from the effort it had taken to purge everything. She leaned her head back against the wall, her breath still coming in shallow gasps as she closed her eyes, grateful for the moment of stillness.

River stayed close, their hand never leaving her stomach as they offered quiet comfort. “You’re okay, Meadow. I’ve got you.”

After what felt like an eternity in the bathroom, Meadow and River finally made their way back to the living room. Meadow’s legs trembled with exhaustion, and her body felt heavy, like she’d been through a battle. Her stomach was still tender, though the cramps had eased, and the nausea had subsided for the moment. All she wanted now was to lie down and forget about the chaos her body had just put her through.

River helped her back to the couch, guiding her gently with a hand on her back. “Come on, let’s get you comfortable,” they murmured softly, their voice filled with quiet concern. Meadow was grateful for their steady presence—River always seemed to know what to do, what to say, even in moments like these when she felt completely drained.

Once she was settled on the couch, Meadow curled up on her side, her head resting against a soft pillow. River sat beside her, their hand moving instinctively to her hair, fingers gently threading through the strands in a comforting rhythm. Meadow sighed, her body relaxing a little more with each stroke of River’s hand. For the first time in hours, she felt like she could actually breathe again.

“You’re burning up, you know,” River said quietly after a few minutes, their fingers brushing against the warmth of her forehead. “You’ve got a fever.”

Meadow groaned softly, her eyes half-closed as she tried to focus on anything other than the lingering ache in her stomach. “Yeah, I figured,” she muttered, her voice hoarse. “Feels like it’s just one thing after another tonight.”

River frowned, their fingers still moving gently through her hair. “We’ll take it easy, alright? Just rest. Hopefully, your body will give you a break soon.”

Meadow nodded, though she wasn’t entirely sure her body would cooperate. The nausea had been relentless earlier, and even now, she could feel it lurking beneath the surface, a dull unease in her gut that wouldn’t fully go away. But she didn’t want to dwell on it. She just wanted to lie there, with River beside her, and pretend for a little while that everything was okay.

For a while, things did seem to settle. Meadow’s breathing slowed, and River’s touch lulled her into a calm, sleepy state. Her body felt heavy with exhaustion, and she could feel the edges of sleep pulling at her, even though the fever left her skin hot and uncomfortable.

But just as she started to drift off, her stomach gave a sudden, sharp gurgle. Meadow tensed, her eyes snapping open as the familiar sensation of nausea returned—this time, more urgent. She swallowed hard, trying to push it down, willing her stomach to calm. But the tightness in her chest and throat told her that wasn’t going to happen.

River must have felt the shift in her body because they immediately paused, their hand still resting lightly on her hair. “Meadow?” they asked softly, their voice full of concern. “Are you okay?”

Meadow clenched her jaw, forcing a tight nod. “I’m fine,” she whispered, though the words felt like a lie. Her stomach churned again, a sickening wave of nausea rolling through her, leaving her breathless. She tried to fight it, tried to keep her body under control, but it was a losing battle. She could feel the nausea rising, building into something she couldn’t ignore.

River sat up, their eyes scanning her face with growing worry. “Meadow, you don’t look fine,” they said, their tone gentle but firm. “Do you need the bathroom?”

Meadow swallowed again, the saliva in her mouth thick as her stomach tightened painfully. She knew she wasn’t going to win this fight. The nausea was too strong, too overwhelming, and her body was already preparing for the inevitable. With a soft groan, she nodded, her hand instinctively moving to cover her mouth.

“I think I’m gonna…” she whispered, her voice trailing off as the nausea surged forward.

River didn’t hesitate. They gently helped Meadow sit up, quickly gathering her hair into a loose hold, their fingers steady and reassuring as they guided her toward the bathroom. “I’m right here,” they said softly, their voice a soothing presence amidst the rising panic.

Meadow barely made it to the toilet before the nausea became too much to bear. She dropped to her knees, her body convulsing as the first wave of vomit hit her, spilling out into the toilet with a violent force. It was a harsh, wet sound that echoed in the small bathroom, her stomach emptying itself in great, heaving bursts.

River knelt beside her, keeping a firm grip on her hair as they gently rubbed her back with their other hand. “Let it out,” they murmured, their voice calm and steady. “You’re okay, just let it out.”

Meadow didn’t have the energy to respond. Her body was completely focused on purging itself, each heave more powerful than the last. The vomit came in waves, her stomach convulsing uncontrollably as she emptied everything she had left. Her hands gripped the sides of the toilet, her knuckles white as her body shook with the effort it took to keep going.

It seemed to go on forever. Every time Meadow thought it was over, her stomach would tighten again, sending another surge of vomit up her throat. The taste was bitter and foul, burning her throat and leaving her gasping for breath between heaves. She could feel the sweat beading on her forehead, her entire body trembling with the exertion.

River stayed with her through it all, their hand a constant, soothing presence on her back. “You’re doing great,” they whispered softly, their voice a gentle reassurance. “Just breathe, Meadow. You’re almost done.”

Meadow gagged again, another rush of vomit spilling out of her as her stomach clenched painfully. It was abundant, thick and forceful, and she could feel her body growing weaker with each heave. Her head was spinning, the room tilting slightly as she tried to catch her breath between bouts of vomiting.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the waves of nausea began to slow. Meadow’s body slumped forward, her forehead resting against the cool edge of the toilet seat as she gasped for air. Her stomach felt hollow and raw, the muscles sore from the effort of vomiting, but the worst seemed to be over.

River kept their hand on her back, their fingers moving in slow, gentle circles. “You did great,” they whispered, their voice soft and filled with quiet concern. “It’s over now.”

Meadow nodded weakly, her eyes closed as she tried to steady her breathing. Her body still trembled slightly, the aftershocks of the intense vomiting leaving her feeling drained and exhausted. She felt like she had nothing left to give—her stomach had completely emptied itself, and the fever was making her feel light-headed and weak.

River stayed with her for a few more moments, making sure she was stable before they helped her sit back, offering her a glass of water. “Here, rinse your mouth,” they said gently, holding the glass for her as she swished the cool liquid around before spitting it into the toilet.

Meadow leaned back against the bathroom wall, her body slumping with exhaustion. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from the strain of vomiting. “I didn’t mean to ruin the night…”

River shook their head, their expression soft and full of understanding. “You didn’t ruin anything,” they said quietly, their hand still resting on her shoulder. “I just want you to feel better.”

Meadow closed her eyes, too tired to argue. “I don’t know if I have anything left,” she muttered, her voice barely audible.

River smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Good,” they said gently. “That means you can rest now.”

#emeto #sickfic #emeto fic #emetophilia #emeto cw #emeto tw #fever cw #fever tw #emeto writer #sicktember 2024 #sicktember 2024 day ten

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bawltongue · 2 years ago

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(jonathan davis x stealth transmasc reader <on t, post op top surgery>. takes place in early 90s. you unexpectedly meet jd in the bathroom after a show, attempting to comfort him after he gets sick, only for Jon to comfort you in return)

18+ !!!!!!!

warning: substance use (alcohol, marijuana), vomit mentioned, smut, (ftm) anatomy, lots of swearing

Jonathan davis x transmasc reader

You couldn’t believe you had the opportunity to finally see your favorite band in person. Korn had been high up on your radar for a couple years now, and seeing them perform live seemed like a dream. Initially, it felt kind of weird to be there on your own. Usually you would’ve preferred to go to a concert with a friend, but when the chance to buy a ticket arose, all you could think about in the moment was securing your spot. This was special.

The performance had been going on at this point for a good hour and forty five minuets, and you had been animalisticly screaming along the lyrics to each song the entire time. Your voice was pretty blown out, cracking and fading, borderline inaudible; but the music was so loud, nobody could hear you anyways. Either way, it’s not like you’d care if anybody could hear you. Your focus was so heavily fixated on Jonathan, nobody else mattered. His vocals, the way he moved and flipped his hair, the sweat gleaming off of his body. For quite a few moments, you zoned out in your fixation and it felt as if you two were the only ones present.

The crowd of people filed out of the venue steadily as the songs went on. Before the middle of the show, nearly everybody was already a sweaty, drunken, fucked up mess. It was about 3 AM when Korn played their last song, and a good eighty percent of the crowd had left before the end of it. Understandably so; the venue was small, un air conditioned and dark. It reeked of vomit, cigarettes, beer, a tinge of piss, and anything else pungent you’d smell at a metal concert full of wasted 20 somethings. Though you were so immersed in the music, the beauty and finesse of the band members… the odors and obnoxious sounds of the onlookers around you didn’t permeate your high of being so close to the men you’ve looked up to and religiously listened to for so long. Nothing could kill this feeling of happiness and awe… until-

Wait, no fucking way. They just finished playing the last song. They’re walking off stage? No, fuck. It’s over? Already?

The post concert depression hit you almost immediately as it felt like you had simply blinked and the members of Korn were exiting the stage. You played it cool and clapped and shouted just like everyone else did, but damn if tears didn’t well up in your eyes a little bit. You took a deep breath, looked around the venue and realized you were the last one clapping. Not only that, but you were also the last one not making their way out yet. The adrenaline buzzing through your body started to fade as you realized how out of breath, uncomfortable and hot you were.

“Yo, there a bathroom in here?” You got the attention of what looked to be an employee, maybe a bodyguard of some sort.

“Yeah, mens’ is right over there.” He gestured to a puny, dimly lit hallway in the back of the venue.

You nodded your head in thanks and turned as a coy smile spread across your lips. You’ve been passing for a while now, but it never stops feeling good to be validated as a man.

You made your way to the restroom and over to a sink to splash some water on your face. The room temperature liquid felt ridiculously relieving on your sticky skin. The water got all over the front of your shirt, but was indistinguishable from all the sweat you had exuded during the evening.

“URRGHHUA-“ The sound of a guttural heave followed by somebody spitting into a toilet made your eyes bulge open in surprise. You thought you were the only person in the restroom.

“Ugh, fuck me-“ Followed by another harsh gag echoed through the bathroom.

“Hey man, uh, you okay?” You stuttered out somewhat nervously. You weren’t really one to start conversation with strangers, but you were a sympathetic person more than anything. Plus, the exhaustion you felt kind of drowned out any feelings of profound anxiety.

“Oh shit, yeah. Sorry man, haha, that probably sounded really fuckin’ gross.” The disembodied voice responded, slightly slurring his words. “I’m just drunk as hell… you mind uh, helping me out maybe?”

You glanced down under the stall to see long legs awkwardly sprawled out on the dirty floor. Stained black adidas sweats attached to what you assumed was a torso hunched over the toilet. The sleepiness and mild disconnect humming in your brain after such an intense night made it so you couldn’t connect the dots between the familiar voice and pants.

The lock clicked and the door slightly creaked open, but not enough for you to see who was in the stall. Taking a couple steps over, with no second thought, you pulled the door outward to offer a helping hand.

“Oh fuck!-“ Choking on a sharp gasp, Jonathan Davis’ glazed, red tinted eyes met with your own. You felt a rush of heat fill your body as blush spread across your face. Jonathan Davis of Korn was probably the last person you were expecting to see sitting on the floor of a filthy bathroom at 3:20 in the morning. Asking for your help. He raised his eyebrows up at you curiously, outstretching a shaky hand.

“You’re staring. Do I got barf runnin’ down my lip or something?” He smiled goofily, gesturing again for you to take his hand and help him up.

“Sorry, I just- I’m totally surprised to see you! I’ve been a fan for so motherfucking long. I’m kinda like- whoa- I mean, you played such a badass show-” You stuttered, hurriedly bending down to take his arm over your shoulders. You tried to play it cool, but felt pretty embarrassed over your inability to keep your fanboying to a low. His legs shook a bit as you hoisted him up off of the floor and to his feet. He was taller then expected. Taller then you at least.

He chuckled in response to your comment, turning his head toward you. You felt his breath on your face; it fucking reeked. Yet it caused your heartbeat to increase even more then it already had.

“Thank you. You know, I think I noticed you from the stage. I swear I saw you going fuckin’ crazy during Faget.” He smiled warmly and took a wobbly step toward the sink, arm still wrapped over your shoulders as you helped him steady himself.

“Yeah, heh. I just get into it, man. I love your music… Shit I won’t lie, I’m a little bit embarrassed.”

He took his arm from around your shoulders and balanced himself on the sink, turning the faucet on. He cupped his hand to catch water and looked at you through the mirror while hunched over.

“No need to be embarrassed. That’s the kinda shit I live for. I appreciate it a lot.” He took a sip of water from his hand before swishing it around his mouth and spitting it back out. His eyes rolled back slightly as he splashed water on his face, letting it drip back into the sink. You stood behind him anxiously, rocking back and forth not knowing what to say.

“You seem pretty nervous. I got something that might make you feel better, if you wanna head out back with me?” He asked, turning around to face you suddenly, stumbling a bit in the motion. You tensed up, meeting his gaze.

Is he asking me to hang out right now?

“You want me to come out back with you? Like now?”

He chuckled softly and put his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“Yeah, like now. If that’s cool with you. I kinda like your presence… I dunno, I’m drunk man. It’d be cool to hang with someone new.” Jon bit his lip and raised his brow as his gaze darted between your lips and back up to your eyes for a moment. It made your face grow hot. “Besides, what else is there to do?”

“Well shit, you make a good point. I’d fuckin’ love to chill with you man.” You felt his grip on your shoulder tighten slightly as you agreed. He grinned widely, still pretty intoxicated as he slung his arm over your shoulders once again. Leading the way out of the restroom, you both made your way out of a door next to the stage area that spat you out on the side of the building. The thick scent of weed and cigarettes smacked you in the face as the door swung open. Honestly smelled pretty damn good compared to the interior of the venue.

“Aw fuck yeah, my man Head never fails me.“ Jon pulled you over to a bench that had a little baggie sitting on it. “Let’s sit, hm?”

You both sat down, Jonathan picking the bag up and emptying the contents in his hand. A perfectly rolled joint and a bright red lighter. Head had obviously left it there for Jon, knowing he’d be coming out after his puketastic bathroom adventure.

“I want you to take the first hit.” He held the joint up to your lips between his fingers.

“You sure? I feel bad smoking your weed, you don’t even know me. I mean I appreciate it of course, but-“ You were interrupted by the click of a lighter.

“I’m sure. I’m gonna know you soon anyways, right?”

You shrugged and inhaled, the familiar taste of smoke filled up your mouth. The second your lips peeled away from the joint, Jon took a huge hit, leaning his head back and blowing it straight up. You couldn’t help but stare dumbly at him as smoke poured out of your mouth. Him throwing his head back like that made risky things run through your mind.

Hit after hit, you lost track of how much the two of you had smoked due to how stoned you became with each exhale. Between sharing the joint, you had conversation about where you’re from, what hobbies you guys have, favorite music, what high school was like; general ‘getting to know each other’ talk. You just couldn’t fully believe you were having casual conversation with Jonathan fucking Davis. Though the higher you got, the easier it was to converse.

“Shit, you know what? You listened to me throw up, saw drool fall outta my mouth, we smoked half of my joint, and I don’t even know your name.” Jon stared at you, his eyes as beet red as your own. The sight made you giggle.

“It’s Y/N. Damn, I’m high as fuck.”

He laughed out loud, his smile causing his eyes to squint. He had such a cute laugh, not what you would’ve expected judging by his stage presence. His reaction arose another giggle inside of you as you shyly covered your mouth with your hand.

“You’re fuckin’ cute, Y/N. Wanna try something weird?”

His words made your heart flutter. An obvious blush spread across your cheeks. You nodded in response, a goofy smile plastered on your face unbeknownst to you.

“Alright, just let me lead. I’m gonna take a hit of this and pass it to you.”

He angled his body toward you and you followed suit, both of you awkwardly facing each other. Half of the joint remained. It felt like you had smoked so much more then that. You were so goddamn high. Jon was too, but wasn’t nearly as transparent about it.

He lit it up and inhaled deeply, holding the smoke in his mouth and quickly placing the joint down to his side so both of his hands were free. He nodded for consent as he bore into your glazed eyes. As soon as you nodded back, his hands gently steadied the sides of your face as he ever so lightly touched his lips against yours. Both of you opened your mouths simultaneously as he exhaled and you inhaled. Your lips were touching so softly. It made your stomach flip. He pulled away, but kept his hands on your cheeks as he watched your expression closely.

“I like your sideburns.” He rubbed his thumb against your face gently, feeling your facial hair. “Fuck, I’m high as shit too.” He bit his lip as his cheeks began to flush red. You could just barely see the tint of his face change with the streetlights glimmering on you both. You smiled shyly as his compliment dug its way into your brain.

“I like yours too.” You sheepishly responded.

“Here.” Jon lifted your hand up and placed it on his own face so you could feel them. A smirk spread across his lips. “This is the gayest fuckin’ thing I’ve done all week.”

“Is that a good or bad thing?” You felt your breath hitch, worried that he wasn’t feeling the electricity you were.

“It ain’t bad. You’re pretty as hell. I saw you rockin’ out from the stage and I was like; ‘damn, that guy is… attractive’. Then i saw you in the bathroom and I was like, ‘shit here’s my chance’. Is that weird?”

You were so taken aback by his words. It didn’t seem real. Is he fucking serious right now?

“I’m sorry, I’m forreal so fucked up right now. That was probably weird for me to say, wasn’t it? I don’t usually do this stuff with guys. I’m a lot smoother with wome-”

Before he had even finished speaking, you put your other hand on his face, pulling him toward you for a kiss. You were so stoned, so ridden of anxiety and morality, it just seemed like the right thing to do. His lips were dry and tasted like Jack Daniel’s and potent weed. You pulled away and locked eyes.

“You’re really fucking cute, Jon. Like, I’m into you.”

His eyes widened and he smiled uncontrollably, fully displaying his crooked teeth.

“I’m into you too, Y/N. I wanna get to know you, but, uh…” He bit his lip and stared down at his lap tentatively. His face was so red.

“What? You’re acting shy all of a sudden?” You smirked and placed a hand on his thigh, nudging him to finish his sentence.

“I really wanna get to know you, but I also wanna fuck you so bad right now.”

You gulped and froze, not expecting him to feel such strong attraction toward you. You didn’t expect him to have any attraction toward you at all, let alone wanting to bone you on the spot like this. Was it because he was so fucked up? Or would he feel this way regardless? Snapping back into reality, you realized his dark, tired eyes were fixated on you, looking you up and down. Sweat beaded at your forehead in anticipation and hesitation. Not only was your favorite vocalist thirsting after you, but you had never been with anybody who hadn’t known you were trans before getting intimate. Actually, you hadn’t been with many people at all. You had no idea how to initiate the conversation, so the best you squeaked out was;

“Can we start slow?”

A warm smile eased onto Jons’ face. He scooped your legs up from the underside of your knees and scooted closer, placing your legs on top of his lap.

“I’m not gonna fuck you here on this bench. Well, I mean, unless you’re into that.” He gave you no time to respond as his lips crashed into yours, rougher then your first kiss, but gentle enough. He placed one hand behind your neck and the other on your thigh, giving it a light squeeze that caused your lips to part for a moment. His thumb affectionately graced the back of your neck as you tasted each others lips. Jon pulled back for a moment.

“You doing okay?” He asked, still rubbing his thumb against your hairline.

“Yeah. I’m really good. What about you?”

“I’m fuckin’ great. You have really soft lips.” He licked his own lips for a second before biting them and scanning your figure again. “Damn, you’re really fuckin’ handsome. It feels right to be here with you right now.” He slurred out before leaning in for another kiss.

This one was a bit sloppier. He began biting your bottom lip and licking your teeth until you finally granted his tongue entrance to your mouth. When you did he let out a soft, sweet moan that made your mouth vibrate. The sound of his enjoyment mixed with the feeling of his tongue in your mouth caused wetness to pool in your boxers. His hand moved lower on your waist and pulled you closer until you were essentially sat on his lap. You could feel how hard he was through his sweats and couldn’t believe it. Knowing that you had him so turned on just drove you even crazier.

A string of spit connected your swollen lips as the both of you pulled away momentarily for air.

“You’re so hard. Did I do this to you?” You asked teasingly.

“Fuck yeah you did. I’m about to fuckin’ lose my shit, Y/N. You’re so hot.” He leaned into the nook of your neck and began leaving soft kisses and bites on your skin. Both his hands now holding your waist.

“Can I mark you up, baby boy?”

The question sent chills down your spine.

“As much as you want to.”

The green light you gave had him impatiently and passionately sucking and licking on your neck. Your thighs squeezed together in an attempt to keep your tdick under control. Moans and curses escaped your mouth as his lips, teeth and tongue marked and grazed your skin; which only encouraged him further. His hands began to snake up the sides of your shirt. You froze for a moment, remembering you hadn’t told him you’re trans yet.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Jon pulled away worriedly and raised his eyebrows, trying to read your expression.

“Not at all. You’re doing such a good job. I just… I don’t- I have to tell you something before we get too far and I’m scared It’s gonna weird you out or something.” Tears welled up in your eyes slightly as anxiety begin to fill up your chest.

“Oh shit. You have AIDS or something?”

“No, motherfucker.” You fought back a snicker. “I don’t have any STD’s.”

Jon sighed in relief, grabbing your hands and holding them tight.

“I promise I’m not gonna judge you. I already like you.”

You took a deep breath and thought about how you could phrase this. The concoction of exhaustion and intoxication flooding through you caused you to simply lift your shirt to showcase your top surgery scars to him. Sometimes saying nothing speaks the loudest.

His eyes widen and fixate on your chest and torso as he puts his hands back on either side of your bare waist.

“I get it.” He said, tapping his fingertips along your skin. “Your scars look great… and shit, you’re almost as hairy as me, huh?” He snickered out, trying to ease the tension to let you know he really didn’t mind at all.

“It’s cool.” He adjusted your legs so you were straddling his lap now, rather then sitting with your legs pressed together. “I’m glad you trust me with your body. It’s fuckin’ sexy.”

You dropped your shirt back down as your hands covered your face. You could feel his throbbing member against your hole now that he readjusted your position on his lap.

“You’re not just saying that to get your dick wet?” You mumble through your fingers.

“What? Naw, I think you’re beautiful… handsome- I think you’re handsome. I said I wanted to fuck you and get to know you. You bein’ trans don’t change none of that. I just got to know you a lil more, that’s all.” He moved your hands down from your face and kissed your nose lightly, making you smile. His reassurance felt very genuine.

“Thank you, Jon. You have no idea how much that means to me… Fuck, I feel so much better. Come kiss me again.” You placed your hands on the back of his head, intertwining his dreads with your fingers before he smushed his face into yours with impatience. His tongue slithered past your teeth and onto yours. It was hard to ignore the subtly desperate humping of his hips up into you as you sat straddling him. The friction, or lack thereof, was driving you both crazy. With his dreads looped through your fingers, you gave a light tug that caused a moan to emit from his mouth into yours.

“Shit, I want you so bad.” He whispered, boring into your eyes with a look that can only be described as desire and seriousness. His desperation made you feel powerful. You never thought you’d be so close to Jon, never thought his dark, lustful eyes would be piercing yours. His arms would be around your waist and tongue in your mouth. The surge of tension and emotions between you had you both forgetting your location; a dirty bench on the outside of a crummy club.

“As bad as I want you too, I’m not about to let us get arrested for public indecency.” You chuckled, cupping his cheek with your hand and giving him a light kiss on the lips. He frowned childishly, eyebrows furrowing. He leaned down and rested his head in the nook of your neck, his lips barely touching your skin.

“If we went somewhere more private, would you let me make you feel good?” He said before kissing your neck lightly.

You placed your hands on the back of his head, caressing his matted, sweaty hair for a moment before mumbling out an “mhm”. Planting another quick kiss on your forehead, he stood up, grabbing the joint and lighter with one hand and outstretching the other for you to take. As he lead you back through the door of the now empty club, he held the joint in his mouth, lighting it and taking long hits, exhaling the smoke through his nose. He grabbed it with two fingers and placed it between your lips for you to take a couple hits as well. A trail of smoke lingered behind you both as he pushed the bathroom door open, locking it behind you.

“I’m so fucking high again, haha-”

He wasted no time in pressing you up against the cool, tiled wall, biting at your lips and moving his hands up and down the sides of your torso. He had his body pressed into yours, keeping you comfortably squished yet unable to move much. You could feel his boner pushing against your stomach through your clothes. He pulled away from your breathless mouth as he hurriedly pulled his tank top over his head, throwing it onto the floor. Jon was so fucking hairy. You were awestruck by his body. His chest hair, happy trail, hips poking out above his pants. You were so hypnotized you hadn’t even realized him tugging at the hem of your shirt, gesturing to get it off of you.

“I wanna see that body of yours again… please?” His bloodshot puppy dog eyes darted between your face and the small amount of your belly visible below your shirt that he was lifting. You bit your lip nervously, but raised your arms to allow him to fully remove it. Throwing your shirt off to the side like a piece of trash, his gaze hungrily shifted around your torso and chest. Large, gentle hands caressing your sides, tracing your scars.

“Goddamn, you’re a fuckin’ treat, huh pretty boy?” He leaned down and started suckling on your neck, working his way down to your collarbone. You gasped as his hand suddenly snuck it’s way past your waistband and in between your thighs, fingers rubbing between your slick entrance and against your swollen tdick.

“Shit, this things big… You’re ready for me aren’t you, Y/N?” He smirked, his forehead pressed against your chest as he stared intensely at his hand in your pants. A finger slipped inside of you, making you emit a raspy moan. The feeling of your wetness seeping around his hand caused him to whimper, beyond turned on and anticipating the feeling of finally being inside of you. Your hips humping against his hand as he inserts another finger, biting your shoulder and leaving a hardy indentation.

“Your fingers feel so fucking good, oh my god, fuck-“ your hands moved up and down his back sporadically; you ached for this kind of touch for what felt like forever.

“That’s my good boy… Are you ready for me to fuck you?” He muttered into your neck, clamping down with his teeth leaving another deep bite mark. Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, enjoying the mixture of pleasure and mild pain. You would’ve yanked his pants down yourself in an instant if you weren’t pinned up against the wall at his discretion.

“Y-yeah, I’m ready. Fuck…”

Almost instantaneously, he pulled his pants down, letting them fall to his ankles. His cock had been dripping with precum for what seemed like the entire time, it was dribbling off of his head. The sight made your eyes pop. Eagerly, he pulled the waistband of your pants down as well, letting them fall to your feet. He reached a hand down and began jerking himself off with one hand and swirling his fingers around your tdick with the other while maintaining eye contact with you.

“I’m gonna fuck your pretty little cunt now, okay?” He shifted his hips close enough so his throbbing cock was placed directly against your entrance. You nodded your head, breathless and nervous. Pushing into you slowly, you both let out deep groans as your grips on each others bodies tightened. He fully pressed into you, borderline crushing you against the wall. Your arms wrapped around his head as he quickened his pace, unable to hold back the desire he’s been downplaying all evening.

“Fuck yes. You’re so fucking tight. You feel so fucking good around me. What a good boy, so wet for me.” Praise fell from his lips like a monologue as he pumped faster and faster. Leaving you out of breath, moaning and cursing uncontrollably. Complete putty in his hands. His lips encompassed yours as he moaned and whimpered into your mouth. The sounds of both of your deep, raspy noises of pleasure and his hips slapping wetly and lewdly against yours echoed throughout the bathroom. He pinned your hands above your head with one arm and used the other to grope your ass, pulling you into him as he submerged his cock inside of you.

“Jon, fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum.”

“Me too. Be my good boy and let’s cum together.” He whimpered out, trying to maintain a dominant tone but not being able to hold back his desperation. His hips bucked uncontrollably and with one final harsh pump, he completely buried himself inside of you. You could feel his balls pulsating against your lips as he emptied them inside of your hole. You tightened around him, gasping and moaning. Your bodies twitched as you both simultaneously came for each other. Sweat pouring off your bodies and cum already trickling down your hairy, weak thighs before he even pulled out.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy, Y/N.” Jon breathlessly mumbled as he stayed twitching inside of you. Attempting to catch his breath and letting go of your wrists, he sprinkled soft kisses all over your jawline, chin and cheeks.

“No, you are. Holy shit, I’ve never cum that hard with anyone before.” You whispered out, legs shaking, barely able to stand if he wasn’t still pressing you against the wall.

“Neither have I. Goddamn.” He slowly slipped out of you while holding your hips, biting his lip and forcing back whimpers in his throat as he did. Your hips bucked and twitched. His cum seeped out, dripping onto your boxers below you. He kissed your forehead with a loud smack sound and bent down to pull up your pants for you.

“Cute. Your legs are shaking pretty hard. Need me to carry you out of here or somethin’?” He rose up with a satisfied look on his face, snapping your waistband around your hips.

“Hell no. I’m a big boy.” You snickered and crossed your arms as Jon pulled his own pants up, rising up less then an inch from your face. You kissed his nose sweetly and watched his face turn a deeper pink.

“Whatever you say. Let me get you breakfast, hm? It’s probably like, fuckin’ 7 AM now.” He reached down to grasp your hand and intertwine your fingers with his. “Then we can go back to my hotel room and clean up.”

He stared hopefully and tiredly at you, lightly squeezing your hand.

“Deal. We’re like, so fucking gross right now.”

He laughed and nodded his head, swinging your arms back and forth. You made your way out of the club and realized the sun had rose, which only made you feel more exhausted. His thumb caressed yours as you both began your trot to the motel a few blocks down the road.

“I like you a lot, Y/N.” He quietly muttered, looking down at your feet as you walked next to each other.

“You goddamn better considering your cum is in my boxers right now.” You playfully shot back, earning a hardy laugh from him.

“I’m playin’. I like you a lot too.”

You stopped in your tracks for a moment to embrace each other. A gentle but passionate kiss solidified your mutual feelings as you continued on your way, sauntering down the sidewalk.

#jonathan davis x reader #jonathan davis fic #korn fic #jonathan davis x ftm reader #jonathan davis x transmasc reader #bawltongue writes #fic

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hikariyuushiart · 27 days ago

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Elevator Girl's Daily Life (AU!MC)

(I'm gonna say small content warning for murder ideation, but no actual bloodshed.)

The forecast said it would be various shades of cloudy all week. Cloudy, but no rain. No rain meant that she had no deliveries to make. About 30% of the time, the Elevator Girl learned that the televised weather forecast was wrong about when it would rain. She always had a sixth sense about it, ever since she was a little girl. It was considered a neat party trick her friends and family knew about back then.

But now, it was a necessity if she wanted to continue living her current lifestyle.

This morning was the same as every other weekday: wake up, brush teeth, eat breakfast, get dressed, then rush to the bus stop and hope to God that it didn't come early so that she could make it to work on time.

Her shift at one of ConGO! E-Shop's many fulfillment warehouses started at 9 AM. The days would drag on like many workdays tended to.

That didn't mean that there weren't plenty of perks to the job outside of pay. She was always met with endless aisles and aisles of various items reminded her so much of the Ghost Apartments. Everyone being so busy with their own tasks meant that, for the most part, she'd be left alone to go at her own pace. She'd often glance around at items between tasks, taking note of what was in stock so she could order them later. Luckily, no one tried snooping into her life.

Well, no one except Ted.

Ted was a new employee, and far too chipper. It was obvious he was trying to be best buddies with as many people as he could in order to have the favor of other employees when he managed to climb the corporate ladder. How he planned to go from 'shipment fulfillment' to 'CEO' was anyone's guess. But one thing's for sure: he annoyed the Elevator Girl consistently.

In the midst of stopping to grab another delivery item on the list, she spotted some knee pads up on a higher shelf. She was wondering if Mr. Crawling might like them when she heard the familiar annoying voice.

"Hey, there you are! [][][][], right?"

She flinched at the mention of her name, glancing this way and that with narrowed eyes as if she was scared Scarletella might appear from somewhere. Of course he wouldn't; it was only partly cloudy outside. With an aggravated sigh, she gripped onto the handle of the trolley that was in front of her.

"Please, just... call me E, alright?"

"Huh? Oh, I didn't know you had a nickname. Alright, my bad, E. Um... any particular reason you're called that?" he asked, making her lower eyelid twitch.

"It's none of your business, Ted. And I'm kinda busy," she insisted, already starting to push her trolley. Unfortunately, he was following right beside her with his own.

"Oh hey, you heading down the electronics section? Me too! Might as well chat since we're headed the same way, yeah? Kinda tough to talk when everyone's always just 'go, go, go', am I right?" he laughed.

"I actually prefer working quietly. Helps me concentrate on my work," she huffed.

"Oh, yeah right. No worries, I can be quiet. Hey, I heard you're from Japan, right? Is that how the work culture is over there?"

"I've never worked in Japan, so I wouldn't know."

"Aw, man, I see. You know, I always wanted to go take a vacation there. Maybe you can come with? It'd be a great learning experience for both of us!"

Their conversations would go on and on like this. No matter how many times she tried to be polite yet short in her responses, Ted would not take the hint. Eventually, in her head, she could hear a light voice that she'd been trying to drown out.

We're passing by the kitchen cutlery. It would just take one stab. Do it. Make him stop talking.

Great, now she had TWO voices she wanted to desperately silence. By the time they were halfway to the electronics section, she couldn't take it anymore, eyes shutting tight.

Ted blinked, seemingly finally noticing her discomfort. "Hey, you okay E?"

"I'm going to use the restroom. Just go do your job!" she finally told him as she ran off to head to the nearest restroom, leaving her stunned coworker behind.

A short time of cooling down in the restroom stall later, she'd finally go up to the sink and wash her face, slowly looking up to see her reflection. Except, what she saw wasn't exactly her. Not completely.

'You missed such a golden opportunity. A lot of people would've been so grateful he was gone,' the reflection taunted.

"I'm not doing that. You KNOW why I'm not doing that. I need this job. It pays great. And how else can I repay them for their kindness? I owe them my life!" she insisted, hands gripping the sides of the sink.

'Tch. Excuses. If you'd just let me handle it, we could've gotten away with it easily...'

"You and I both know that's not true. You're too sloppy. You don't think, you don't calculate, you don't PLAN. I want us to have a future, and I'm not going to have your stupid impulses ruin that for both of us."

'Impulses? Look who's talking, Miss 'I don't want to be away from the hot guys who give me the time of day even if half of them want to murder me'.'

"W-what?! No, I don't--"

'Honestly, it's so obvious you find them attractive. Just admit it: you like the danger. You like the thrill of it. It's why I'm here. It's why you'll NEVER be free of me.'

Her eyes narrowed, cheeks colored pink as she pointed accusingly at her reflection.

"Listen here, you psychopathic monster: you can go on and on about being stuck with you until the cows come home, but I--"

"E? That you? What are you mumbling about?" called a younger coworker, a college kid. They stepped in with their make-up bag, going up to one of the sinks as the Elevator Girl quickly cleared her throat and adjusted her face.

"Ah-w- nothing! Nothing! Just... uh... you know..."

"Ted?"

"Yeah..."

"Yeeeeah, he got to me too. I swear, we'd all be better off if he dropped dead."

The Elevator Girl laughed nervously. "Y-yeah... um... anyways, I better get back to work... later!"

On her way out of the bathroom and back to the trolley, she could practically feel the Raincoat Killer smirking.

'Told ya.'

#homicipher oc #homicipher #drabble

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emoticonheart · 1 year ago

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a long time ago, before ashely met lily and was still convinced she was straight (ha!), she was on a date with a man she had met in one of her classes.

she really wanted this date to go well. he was an attractive guy, but he was also really smart and funny... and she was just desperate for love. so, she had her best outfit on as they ate at one of the fancier restaurants in their small college town.

things were going great!! they were talking, laughing, and ashley was sure this could actually go somewhere for once. that is, until her stomach started gurgling, and even louder than usual. there was no questioning what that meant.

she quickly left her seat, hastily explaining that she needed to use the restroom, and practically barreled down the door trying to get to a stall. as soon as the stall was locked behind her, she let loose with the belches she had been holding back throughout the entire date. and boy were they monstrous. they echoed throughout the tiny restroom, bouncing off the walls to the point where it sounded like a pack of lions had joined them in the room. the unlucky woman who was in the stall next to her gripped the walls in a desperate attempt to keep her balance as the hellish sound bombarded her on all fronts.

but with burps like that, there was no way to contain it in just the bathroom. oh no. practically the entire restaurant could hear belch after belch ringing out from the closed door of the restroom. at one point one of the employees walked over to check on what was happening, but they chickened out at the last minute.

when ashley finally got everything out of her system, she quickly checked herself in the mirror before walking out of the restroom with a smile, acting as if nothing had happened.

only to find that her date had fled, leaving her alone in the restaurant where practically all the patrons were staring at her.

it's something that still haunts ashley to this day... but not as much as the lady in the stall next to her.

#lily absolutely lost her mind when ashley told her the story #like rolling on the ground tears spilling out of her eyes as she cackled uncontrollably #oh what lily would have done to have been there that day #she hopes she can find a way to recreate it someday #but ashley immediately shut that down #she was already traumatized ENOUGH thank you #and ashley still doesn't even know about that woman in the stall #that poor poor woman #<3 writes #burping #flexsteel #ashley #lily

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agentsquirrelsgotrobots · 1 year ago

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The Stars, The Moon, The Sun, and an Incoming Constellation

Part two

also posted on my a03, Agentsquirrel

The next day, they went back to their regularly scheduled house hunting. They found a purple Victorian in need of repairs with all original wood cabinets and flooring. By the sheer excitement in Sam's eyes, she would have murdered Danny if he didn't let her pay cash on the spot.

They were moved in by the end of the month, Danny finding out the place was haunted by more than a few child ghosts, who insisted on their newest little sibling having their room right next to theirs, and that they get a hobby horse.

Both Danny considered reasonable demands, and really, they were going to use that room anyway, as it was closest to their room. With a single phone call, Sam had her parents sending her family's heirloom cradle and rocking chair to be delivered within the week.

The nursery was going to be space themed, of course, and Tucker was already tinkering with a high-tech baby monitor. Unexpectedly, the doorbell rang, and Danny resisted the urge to phase through the floor to get to the door, reminding himself that they didn't have blinds yet.

Surprisingly, a green bulldozer was in their driveway, the police officer from the other day, and a blond man standing on their front stoop. Danny answered the door, trying not to sound as nervous as he was.

"Anything wrong, officer?" Danny asked, blocking them from seeing inside.

"Are you Danny Mason?" Charlie asked, slipping into Police Chief mode.

Danny nodded. "Yes."

"We are here to take your statement. I'm Graham Burns, the town's Civic Engineer. This is my dad-"

"Griffin Rock Police Chief Charlie Burns." Charlie offered his hand, and Danny shook it.

"Legally, I am still Daniel James Fenton, as my legal name change is still pending. But, I prefer to be Mr. Mason, or Danny, if we have to be casual."

"Of course, is Mrs. Mason home?" Charlie asked, making a note to edit his reports.

"Yes, permission to go back inside to get her?"

"Of course, but you aren't -" Danny slipped back inside before Charlie could finish, shutting the door in his face. "-Being questioned." He finished, rubbing his eyes in irritation.

Danny came back with Sam quickly, a fake smile on both their faces.

"Hello." Sam said, quite uncomfortable.

"Sam Mason?" Charlie asked.

"That's me." She answered stiffly.

"I wanted to ask you questions about yesterday's incident."

"Of course. Would you like to come in? There's not much furniture, but Danny could grab a camping chair from his office if need be."

"That's not necessary. Could you tell me how you got caught in that fight?"

"We were wandering around after Tucker took the car. We needed to use the restroom, and he decided to be an ass and drive away as a prank. Unfortunately, neither of us could use a map if it killed us, and we ended up in the restricted area. We were looking for an employee when those guys opened fire, and from there, we were just trying to survive." Sam said.

"I got lost in the smoke and took my time trying to get out." Danny said. "The hospital staff took my shoes and socks, and Sam's shirt, they are with mainland police."

"That's all I needed to know. Have a good day." Charlie said, pulling Graham with him as he left.

They got into Boulder, and Charlie gave Graham a look. "Next time, let me talk."

Graham cleaned his glasses and sighed. "Got it."

They drove back, and Charlie called a family meeting.

"Guys, they know nothing. Tomorrow, I will go pick up evidence from the mainland, but for the moment, Dani, Graham, I want you to at least try to fish for information. I want to know what killed those men, and why."

"Sammy?" Danny said, his voice that tired tone he gets after processing a bad fight. "Are you sure those gangsters were bad?"

"Yes, Danny, they wanted to kill us and followed us across state lines. Now, they know that this is Phantom's territory, and we can focus on the future baby and setting up a proper home."

Danny chuckled. "You sound like your mother."

"My mother didn't let man-eating hot dogs lead a revolution."

"Fair. I mean, at least the local schools are decent."

"And about to get a nice donation." Tucker said, his usual beanie replaced with a red silk scarf and rumpled from his mid afternoon nap. "The blinds should be here in a few days. Until then, Danny, feet on the ground."

Danny sighed. "Got it. Can't pretend Phantom is just a wig and contacts anymore."

"Uhh, no. You have the night sky as a skin tone, and your eyes are all melty now that you are a fully fledged ghost." Sam said. "I mean, it's gorgeous, but doesn't pass as human."

"Could I at least go flying? Please? I will stay out of the way of the helicopter?" Danny begged.

"Fine. But be careful." Sam said, knowing he would have snuck out to do it anyway. They all slept in separate rooms anyway, as they all preferred different sleeping arrangements, as Sam's a blanket hog, Danny needs a night light, and Tucker is a night owl.

As soon as the sun set, Danny went for a walk, found an unlit area, and bolted towards the sky, transforming as he went. He became a green bolt of light, twisting and turning in the sky. He went as high as he was comfortable, feeling the wind try to pull himself along. He knew he was unconsciously phasing through the worst of the wind currents, so when he grabbed onto gravity and started to free fall, the wind hit him at full force, his back stinging from the biting wind.

He pulled back up before he hit the tree line and surveyed the docks. A cleanup crew had been through already, though the bullet holes had yet to be patched.

Danny continued flying, performing loop de loops and aerial tricks for an audience of no one. At least, he thought so.

Just below him, Huxley was filming with his altered cell phone, secured against the getting one last good shot of the being’s face before sending it to Chief Burns. He had learned his lesson with the invasion incident and, with no backup, didn't want to risk being attacked by the otherwise oblivious creature.

Danny circled back to the edge of the suburbs, dropping down into a tall patch of grass and fighting his way back out, spitting out a few blades that had somehow made it into his mouth. He walked back to the house, fumbling with his house key and managing to trip over several boxes before falling into a lawn chair, breaking it. Sam flipped on the light, unimpressed.

“Really? Could you have been any louder?” She asked, her long, floor-length robe made of silk and dyed reclaimed rabbit fur, swishing over the cracked floorboards that desperately needed to be refinished.

She had the epiphany that the most sustainable way of buying clothes was wearing out what you already own and buying quality, sustainably sourced pieces from brands and artists that align with your values. She was still vegan but realized that buying plastic to avoid animal cruelty was a bit of an oxymoron. She found a variety of artists that worked with all reclaimed and ethically sourced materials and, as her clothes aged and wore out, had been slowly replacing them. Each piece was pricey, but she knew they would last, and no one was exploited in the creation process. After her tulle robe had ripped, Tucker had bought it for her as a Christmas gift (they celebrated mostly Jewish holidays, as Sam's family is Jewish, but Danny loves Christmas, so they usually had a small tree and a couple presents. Tucker insists on going to his parents' house for Thanksgiving. )

“Sorry. I realized I couldn't just drop in the front yard.”

“No you cannot. Go to the bathroom, check yourself for ticks, change, and come snuggle. I want Danny hugs tonight.”

Danny smiled and gave his favorite goth overlord a peck on the cheek before changing and heading up to bed.

#maccadam #transformers rescue bots #dpxdc #dpxtf

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wellthebardsdead · 2 years ago

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The Mourned & the heretics Pt9

Part 8 here

———

Riiju-Lei: *hurrying through the temple after sending the ordinators flying* gods I do not need this right before my wedding day, hurries into the library and nearly jumps out of his skin seeing the Grandmaster of house Dres standing there, flicking through one of the many notebooks Divayth Fyr had written on Voryn Dagoth & then later Dagoth Ur and the other members of his house* Grandmaster Dres-

Grandmaster of Dres: Ah, Voryn. *closes the book* I was hoping I’d get to speak with you. I wish to apologise for my behaviour.

Riiju-Lei: *hair at the back of his neck standing up and alarms ringing in his head, watching the grandmasters movements as he puts the book down* You do?…

Grandmaster of Dres: Yes. I know it’s no excuse, however I was greatly distressed over the destruction of all my plantations. Thousands of crops destroyed, decades of hard work gone, my employees left jobless. I was, distraught, to say the very least. Then hearing you had returned, I like many feared you’d of brought all the foul omens Dagoth Ur had created with you. But I see now I was mistaken. I apologise.

Riiju-Lei: okay. *walks past him to start searching for anything on Vivec or Almalexia in his notes*

Grandmaster of Dres: That’s it? I apologised and that’s all you have to say?

Riiju-Lei: Just because you apologised does not mean I am inclined to accept it. You attempted to lay harm to Nerevar, you repeatedly undermined his authority and you’ve belittled me multiple times. Need I remind you as well that my mother was branded with your house crest as a slave. Skalei-Jei, that was her name. Not a scaled beast as you’d call her. My birth mother was a prisoner in your families hold too, a follower of nerevar, and she suffered at the hands of you and your ancestors to free those you held in chains. As far as I’m concerned. Everything you own can burn. *picks up the books the grandmaster had been looking at and storms out*

Grandmaster of Dres: *smirks and walks out of library and through the temple, unaware of the archmagister and a certain argonian hiding themselves with a simple minor illusion spell*

Divayth Fyr: *drops the invisibility* He’s gone-

Xelzaz: I saw him slip something into the notebook.

Divayth Fyr: I’ll tail after the grandmaster, you go after LeiLei.

Xelzaz: as you wish serjo- *gets up from his position behind the bookshelf and hurries out down the hall after Riiju*

Divayth Fyr: *fixes his robes and walks from the library, taking a book with him to look as though he’d simply collected some reading material to last him the lockdown within the temple and using it to hide his hand as he casts stone flesh on himself, having a deep sense of dread in his gut telling him he’ll regret it if he doesnt* … *peers around the corner to see the grandmaster enter the communal latrine, eyes narrowing knowing full well he wouldn’t be caught dead using a public bathroom* where are you going… *casts invisibility on himself as he follows behind at a distance, peering into the restroom in time to witness the grandmaster open and climb through a hidden trap door beneath the stone work of the floor* Azuras mercy… *hurries off to fetch nerevar*

*Meanwhile*

Riiju-Lei: *now back in nerevars room flicking through the books, the ordinators he sent flying earlier now back at their posts and looking very worse for wear* nothing on vivec or almalexia! *tosses it to the side and opens another one* Ugh this is why you don’t burn books! *flips a page and blinks seeing a piece of paper fall from the page* hm?… *picks it up and opens it to see a message written inside*

“Come Dreamer, Friend or Foe, come to me father of the mountain beneath the fall, gaze upon the gears of gods.”

Riiju-Lei: *staring in bewilderment at the letter* father of the mountain?… beneath the fall- the clockwork city…

Xelzaz: *suddenly skids into the room* Riiju!

The ordinators: no visitors are-

Riiju-Lei: let him in.

The ordinators: *immediately step aside, both afraid of being launched again*

Xelzaz: *hurries in and starts flipping through the books in a panic* Where is it!? A note he put a note in here somewhere?!

Riiju-Lei: I- this? Note? You saw who planted it?

Xelzaz: *takes it and suddenly goes cold recognising the hand writing from the scriptures of Vivec* … We need to find nerevar, now.

Riiju-Lei: why what is it?

Xelzaz: The grandmaster planted this for vivec!

Riiju-Lei: *stands up and grabs his sword in case he needs it* I’ll go find him, you get Kaidan and the others!

Xelzaz: alright!

*Meanwhile*

Nerevar: *creeping through the sewers, Divayth Fyr* shhh… *freezes hearing voices up ahead* Divayth, stay hidden…

Divayth Fyr: *casts invisibility on himself once more and steps away from him in case*

Nerevar: *creeps slowly, steps muffled by the moss coating the stones as he sneaks up to a cistern chamber and slowly peers in to see Vivec, clad in old travel worn robes, head covered by a red shawl, and face concealed by his mask, and before him the grandmaster kneeling* …

Grandmaster of Dres: *looking up at Vivec* I did as you asked my lord and get you’ve still not made good on your promise!

Vivec: Plans have changed, child. With Voryn Dagoth now back in the picture, our plans for you are now obsolete, but you have been a faithful servant none the less and I assure you you will still be rewarded.

Grandmaster of Dres: You promised me the power he possessed! And now you’re denying me it?!

Vivec: Hush. I can no longer afford you his power now that it’s been confirmed he has reincarnated. However. Once I have him in my possession and nerevar lies dead, we will be strong enough to sap the god hood from that traitor Seht, and gift it to you.

Grandmaster of Dres: M-my lord- I- th-thank you! I would be honoured to take up the mantle of the clockwork god.

Nerevar: *backs up to leave and regroup with Divayth Fyr so they can gather reinforcements, only to gasp in agony as a dagger pierces his thigh* GAGHHH- *reaches for his sword and freezes as the knife touches his throat, and a dunmer woman’s hand grabs a fistful of his white hair* nghh- hello- alma.

Almalexia: Hello. Husband. *pushes him out into the cistern grinning wildly* We caught him! We caught him Vehk! Let me gut him! Let me choke him with his entrails!

Vivec: *smirks from behind his mask* Hello, Nerevarine.

Nerevar: hello cunt- *hisses in pain as alma yanks his hair back*

Almalexia: You do not speak! I will cut out your tongue this time!

Vivec: Hush now Alma. There is no point in expending the effort. Once we are done we will need not fear him reincarnating again, and the good daedra will no longer have the means to revive him…

Nerevar: You won’t succeed. I defeated you all once and I’ll do it agaiAARGHHH!! *pulls back in pain as Alma slices the dagger under his jawline as if prematurely slicing off his face in a second foul murder*

Vivec: ALMA.

Almalexia: *whines and shrieks shaking nerevars head* It’s not fair not faaair!!! He has my skin! My pretty gold skin! And look at how he’s cursed me! I’m filthy! Dirty! Ugly!!!

Nerevar: *glares back at her* among other thing- *hisses as vivec suddenly punches him across the face before grabbing hold of his arm as Alma grabs the other, both of them kicking the back of his legs making him drop to his knees* This feels familiar…

Vivec: Grandmaster of house Dres, *holds out his spear to him* Take my muatra in hand, and claim your new name sake of Dres Seht as you drive it through his heart…

Grandmaster of Dres: *takes the spear with trembling hands, a mix of honour and cowardice wracking his body as he stares down at nerevars blue eyes* Dres Seht… *smirks darkly and laughs* I honour my family by slaughtering you! Now you will pay for the downfall of house dres! *drives the spear through his chest*

Nerevar: *eyes rolling to the back of his head, the cracking of ribs ringing through his ears, almost drowning out the voice of Vivec and the feeling of his lips on his*

Vivec: Don’t weep… I’ll take good care of your Voryn… *smirks removing his mask as his face and skin twists in shape and colour, turning him into the spitting image of the Hortator* Come you two… leave him to wither and rot like he did us…

Dres Seht: *pulls muatra from nerevars chest making him seemingly choke out his final breath* yes my lor- *recoils as vivec suddenly takes the spear from him, making it disappear*

Vivec: Alma.

Almalexia: *knife already hanging over nerevars face once more* But Vehk!

Vivec: Patience Pet… you’ll have an eternity once we’re done to torment him. Come… *takes her hand and leads them from the cistern, up the ladder and into the temple, the blood of the nerevarine allowing them entry at last*

Divayth Fyr: *drops the illusion and runs to Nerevars side* oh gods, oh please no…

#vivec #almalexia #divayth fyr #riiju lei dragonborn #nerevar #indoril nerevar #skyrim #xelzaz skyrim

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petri808 · 1 year ago

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7/29/23 Fears prompt @allaboutnalu for Nalu Week 2023

Levy gently places her hand over her best friends, coaxing her to relax. “Try not to worry and have a little fun tonight Lucy, we’re celebrating your freedom.” The two women are at their favorite bar to drown their stress in alcohol, music, and maybe some eye-candy but who’s gonna snitch? It is a comfortable place that they’ve been coming to since their college years, and since they know some of the employees, they even get drinks for free sometimes.

“I can’t help it,” Lucy sighs. “Everything’s still so fresh,” she absentmindedly reaches up and touches her left cheek below her eye where it was punched a week ago. Thankfully, the bruising has gone down and it’s just tender still. This is the first time in probably a year that she’s been to this bar or really spent the night out just with her girlfriends because of her ex’s controlling behaviors. “Dan just won’t leave me alone. I’ve even seen him driving past my job or home like he’s keeping tabs.”

Lucy Heartfilia has just gotten out of an abusive relationship with her ex-boyfriend Dan. It started out like so many domestic abuse situations where they are perfect gentlemen, sweet talking, and romantic, but slowly and surely the psychological manipulation began. Guilt-tripping her when she wanted to hang out with her friends or visit her own family. Making excuses for why he wanted to drive her to and from work. Throwing tantrums when he didn’t get his way, verbally berating, or making rude comments about her appearance only to switch gears and be extremely apologetic. Dan would tell her he’d commit suicide if she left him, and so the guilt also kept her from leaving for fear that he might actually go through with it. Of course, it’s all a trap, to lure her back in emotionally and make her feel like things will get better.

It was always that hope of change that she hung onto as the cycle repeated itself again and again. Abuse and repentance. But there’s only so much someone can take, and thankfully for Lucy she has the support of a best friend that will not let her fall. Yeah, it’s great to be free, but there is always the sense of fear and dread when she must walk outside alone, like when she’s leaving her apartment building or office, or even shopping at the store. What if Dan makes good on his threats? She’s never been such a nervous person before that it’s sad how one bad relationship can leave a person tainted for the rest of their lives.

“Did you go to the court house to apply for the restraining order?” Levy queries.

“I did.” Lucy responds. “The process server is supposed to serve him tomorrow.”

“Good,” Levy responds with an approving nod. “Then if that bastard comes near you, the cops can throw him in jail!” She looks around to see if the server’s nearby before standing up. “I’m gonna run to the restroom, if the server comes by can you order me another drink?”

“Yeah, sure,” Lucy smiles. “I’ll make sure to.”

With the music an even tempo of soft alternative and pop, nothing to dance or too lively, it lulls the listeners into a pleasant mood. Lucy really misses coming to this ambient atmosphere after a hard week of pursuing and writing articles instead of going home to an unhappy relationship. If only… Her eyes narrow in towards the front entrance, widening in a flash as she sees Dan step through the threshold.

“Shit!” She grits her teeth and scoots down in the booth. “I knew it!” Lucy just knew he’d likely come looking for her since he knew this is a favorite hang out spot.

Lucy scans the room, eyes flitting around for a way to avoid being caught by him. She can’t get to the front door because it’ll take stepping into the open for him to grab her, and she rather not get trapped in the restrooms... Maybe, she keys onto the bar counter… maybe if she can get to the bartender she’ll at least have an ally to help her. Using the columns and darker areas along the walls, Lucy weaves through other patrons towards the bar counter.

“Lucy!”

Her body stiffens at the familiar angry voice and cringes when she sees Dan yelling and waving frantically while he picks up his pace. No, no, no! As he pushes through the crowd, Lucy sprints the final few feet and grabs onto the first guy sitting alone at the counter. Pink-hair, taller and fit wearing a nice buttons down business shirt and slacks like he just got here from an office. Under other circumstance she’d be ogling the guy not crashing his evening. “Hey babe!” She weaves her arm around his solid bicep. “Sorry I’m late!” Lucy leans close and whispers through a gritted smile, her eyes desperately focused and appealing. “Please play along!”

Just as Dan reaches them, the male who’s eyes at first startles from the intrusion, quickly catches the hint and pulls Lucy in, planting a kiss on her cheek, and all the while side-eyeing the other male. “It’s fine baby, I just got here too.”

“What the fuck!” Dan forcefully grabs the strangers shoulder and pushes while reaching for Lucy’s arm, but the stranger sweeps Lucy aside out of Dan’s way, further enraging him.

Placing Lucy behind him, the stranger stands up from the bar stool and holds his hand up to Dan’s chest without actually touching him. “What the fuck is right!” The pink-haired male menacingly narrows his gaze. “I suggest you back off buddy, I don’t give a damn who you are, but the lady clearly doesn’t want anything to do with you!”

“This ain’t your problem, asshole, she’s my girlfriend!” Dan spits back.

“No, I’m not!” Lucy screams as tears trickle down her cheeks. “You abusive bastard, I’ve got a restraining order on you so leave me alone! We’re done!”

Dan ignores both their statements and makes another lunge to reach for Lucy, but the stranger open palm pushes at Dan’s chest, forcing him to stagger back a foot or two. “Leave!” The stranger snaps, growling his words. “She’s my girl now, and if you keep harassing her I’ll make you sorry!”

At the strangers confirmatory words, Dan roars and lunges at the man who sidesteps and retaliates with an uppercut to his stomach, knocking the wind out of Dan who crumples to the floor coughing. Just as Dan tries to get to his knees, the bouncers are now there and grab him by his shoulders, one on each side they start pulling him away as he continues to shout profanities.

It’s over.

Lucy slumps against the bar top, leaning on it to stop from falling as the adrenaline rushing through her body begins to wane. “Thank you,” the words trickle out in a soft tone laced with held back tears. “Thank you sir, thank you so much,” Lucy repeats over and over.

“Lu!” Levy also finally manages to break through the gathered crowd and rushes to her friends side, pulling the blonde into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here!”

“It’s over, Levy,” Lucy gently sobs a mixture of elated relief. “Thanks to this nice man here.” Now that she can breathe easier, she realizes this stranger is even cuter than she originally noticed. He has gorgeous green eyes that sparkle in the disco-type lights panning the room. The man’s smile also conveys a happy lightness that pulls you in deeper and wanting for more. She feels a bit of warmth brewing over her cheeks, but could anyone blame her after such a harrowing save by this hero?

Levy turns to the stranger while still holding her friend. “I’m Levy, and this is my bestie Lucy.” Her head tips to the side and eyes flit to the front door to accentuate the who. “That guy’s been stalking my friend, so thank you so much for helping her! He might’ve kidnapped her if he got to her.”

The stranger smiles. “It’s nice to meet you both, and don’t worry, I’m happy to help out a pretty lady in need. I’ve dealt with a lot of dumbasses over the years, so I’m used to it.”

“I bet,” Levy chuckles. “It’s a nice reminder that good guys still exist.”

Here they are chatting like old friends yet they don’t even know his name. Lucy pulls away from Levy to finish wiping away the remaining tears and clean herself up. “So, what’s you name sir?” She finally smiles genuinely. “Is there anything I can do for you, perhaps buy you a drink to thank you?”

The man pulls out a card holder and hands Lucy a business card. “Detective Natsu Dragneel at your service,” he smiles and winks. “A drink is fine, but what I’d really like is your number and to take you out to dinner if you’re up for it.”

A surprised gasp lets out as Levy looks to see Lucy’s face turning cherry red. Having known each other for years, she knew exactly what her best friend is thinking. “Yes!” Levy squeals while pushing Lucy closer to the man. “She’d love to!”

“Levy!”

#nalu #tw: domestic violence mention #fairy tail #nalu week 2023 #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #nalu fic #lol I’m so proud of my edit cause I added the guy and it looks like it was originally there 😌

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