#perfume=headache to me so that's what I mean by sharp

[hellcifrogs]

Do you have any thoughts about how the JunkoAU characters smell? Not all ofc, but is there any of them you look at and your imagination just kicks in?

For example Violet looks like as a person who uses cotton candy parfume.

Ooh I am not good with smells. I don't know my brain doesn't even go there...

I'm gonna go with all Sakura and Ino based ones smell like flowers. Hinata ones smell like soap. All Hyuugas smell like soap and green tea.

Domin and Wei (Karin based) have strong sharp(?) secnt, Inuzukas and Uchihas smell like... nature? My god I don't even know how to describe scents?! Vocabulary issue here, but you know like wood, rain, freshily cut grass, those kind of scents.

Dante and Suzuyasu smell like a mix of coffee and cleaning products (hospital smell), but Suzu has a hint of seafood for some reason. Adeleine smells like old books. I think the Akimichis should also smell like spiced and stuff.

Suna characters have smells like wood, dry leaves, thick fabrics. Incense. But that's more from the place than the people, idk if that counts. Dei smells like smoke and Nanako like candy.

[chvoswxtch]

oi, matt! can i get a macchiato? mayhaps over ice if that’s what the barista has to offer today….

matt x assistant!reader at nelson and murdock is one of my favourite flavours ever. i just neeeeed your take on it.

you know I had to kick off the celebration with this slut (works for you or matty) <3 also just so you know I could've kept going with this forever but tumblr told me to shut up bc apparently there's a word limit on answering asks but you get the picture ;)

as a reminder, over ice means it's spicy ! (minors dni)

headcannon below the cut

matt murdock is an hr nightmare

when foggy mentions that nelson & murdock could desperately use an assistant since karen is now at the bulletin, before matt even has a chance to speak, foggy is warning him to keep his dick in his pants

and when matt pulls that face (you know the one, the "she wanted to teach me" look of faux innocence) foggy reminds matt that not only is he a whore but he also has a history of being tempted by forbidden fruit (he probably fucked all the female interns at landman and zack, and then there's karen who he would've slept with if frank & elektra hadn't shown up but that's a different story for a different day)

matt does the lil "i cross my heart" thing and swears to foggy that he won't get involved with the new assistant

he also makes this promise to himself bc let's face it he's a human disaster who's life is constantly falling apart and the last thing he needs is drama that could've been avoided if he thought with the right head

but then the day of the interviews arrive and you walk in the room, and matt knows at that moment that he is completely fucked

your scent hits him first, something soft and subtle, a breath of fresh air from the stuffy office smell and the lingering assault of pungent perfume left behind by other candidates that had given him a dull headache

then it's your voice, god your voice, it's the most melodious sound he's ever heard. it's gentle but crisp, and your alluring intonation has him hanging onto your every word, especially his name that fell from your lips in greeting

touching your hand nearly does him in, bc getting to feel your smooth skin caress his rough palm makes it even worse. there's a an electric spark that tingles in his fingertips and shoots throughout the rest of his body, and he finds himself wondering if you feel it too, but then catches himself and quickly plasters on a professional appearance

it was one thing that every single thing about your existence drew him in, but the fact that you were also intelligent and well-spoken, deeply passionate and genuinely empathetic, while also quick to craft clever responses without your sharp wit coming off as ostentatious just made matt want you more

matt was uncharacteristically quiet while foggy asked most of the questions, to which you gave perfect answers, and occasionally chimed in with a few of his own just to redirect your attention where he wanted it: on him

by the end of the interview, foggy was sold on you, and so was matt, but for duplicitious reasons

matt tries so hard to keep his promise, but fuck do you make it (and him) hard. he makes a point to never be alone with you in the office. if a round at josie's is suggested, he makes sure foggy or karen will also be there. he tries to balance between being friendly while also being professional, trying to find the invisible line that crosses from innocent inquisitions to dangerous territory

he does his best not to initiate physical contact, which proves to be difficult, bc you're a hugger and always politely offering matt your arm to guide him whenever you go anywhere

you're so kind and thoughtful and treat him the exact way you treat everyone else and it makes him want to put his head through a wall bc every day that he spends with you makes this attraction worse and worse and he can't tell if it's purely physical or if it goes deeper than that

and then one day he just fucking snaps

matt has a really bad day. a lead he'd been working on for weeks ended up being a dead end, and matt had taken his frustration out on some petty thug in an alley, but it wasn't enough. he'd woken up on the wrong side of the bed, late at that, to a handful of voicemails from a pissed off foggy. it had been a grueling day in court, all of his senses were overwhelmed, and he had so much pent up tension in his body that he felt stiff

he was so wrapped up in himself that when he walked through the door of the office, he didn't realize he'd broken his own rule: never be alone with you

as soon as he realizes his mistake, he heads towards his office, returning your polite greeting with a grunt of acknowledgement. he hoped that you'd leave it alone, that you'd say something like you were just about to leave, and he'd be spared from you coming closer. but you being you, noticing every little detail and having learned to read matt, could tell something was off

you just wanted to help. you always just wanted to help, and matt loved that about you, but right now, it was only making this more difficult for him bc his self restraint was deteriorating

and then you gently touched his shoulder and matt let out a groan bc he could smell what you'd done the night previously. the scent of your arousal was still embedded in your skin even though you'd washed your hands several times, and the scent of soap was almost nonexistent as matt's nose focused solely on the delectable scent of your pussy on your own fingers

he'd made himself come many times to the thought of you over the last few months, but knowing that you'd fingered yourself last night possibly to the thought of him is what broke his resolve

matt didn't need his heightened senses to know you were attracted to him, that you felt something for him too. he knew it because he knew you, and sometimes you were obvious even when you thought you were being subtle for the sake of both your friendship and your professional reputation

before either of you could process what was happening, matt was devouring your mouth in a heated kiss, your blouse was halfway unbuttoned, just enough for him to pull down the cups of your bra to leave your tits spilling into his welcoming hands. your soft whimpers echoed around the empty office as he toyed with your nipples while assaulting your neck with his teeth and tongue

in record time you were bent over his desk, skirt bunched up around your hips, panties caught around your calves, and matt was pulling down his zipper to free his fully hard cock

the immense relief he felt as he sank into you fully from behind nearly brought him to his knees. he didn't know if it was the heightened allure of having something he wasn't supposed to, or how perfectly your tight cunt enveloped his thick cock, but he quickly got lost in your warm walls like a dazzling labyrinth he never wanted to escape

you were so fucking wet that it was obscene the noises your pussy made welcoming his cock as he pounded into you over and over and over again. but his favorite sound was you chanting his name, desperately pleading for more, which he was all too happy to oblige

you took him so well, your pussy enveloping his cock in a greedy manner, not allowing him the chance to slip out despite how soaked you were. he reached as deep as your body would allow and fucked you relentlessly like a madman on a mission

his rough hands gripped your hips in a bruising manner, and he was completely lost in a fog of lust. it didn't take long for either of you to come undone and it finally clicked for matt that he wasn't the only one that had been depriving himself for the sake of not crossing a boundary when your cunt tightened around his cock before flooding him with your release

matt waited until the absolute last possible second, swiftly pulling out with a hiss as he replaced your pussy with his right hand, stroking his cock at an inhuman speed just a few times before coating your ass in ropes of his come

he collapsed in his chair, but not without wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you down with him. the sound of heavy panting filled his office, and the air was humid and drenched in the scent of sex. matt nuzzled his face into your neck, hugging your back to his chest while the two of you attempted to catch your breath

he's able to pick up on the fact that your heart is still racing not bc of the incredible spontaneous sex, but also out of anxiety about what happens next, so matt decides to break the silence first

"I uh...know this is kinda backwards but, I was wondering if I could take you to dinner?"

in conclusion, he's a fucking menace

[peppermint-toads]

𝚟𝚒𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 this is gonna be slowwwww burn. and it’s the first thing i’ve written in a long time so go easy on me, also i still don't have a title for this

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 pregnant reader, reader is really struggling like fr, eventual smut just not in this chapter, bleeding! reader is spotting but nothing is wrong she is just stressed, visit to the hospital, 1.3k

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 eddie moves to another dingy little town in south carolina and works at a dingy little grocery store where he meets you! a pregnant twenty something year old.

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚠𝚘

“Darla, what do you want?”

Darla wasn’t a terrible girl. Her eyeshadow was just too blue, her perfume made you want to vomit, and the way she smacked her gum gave you a headache. That was all.

“Table fourteen is askin’ for ya’.” She smirked, looking you up and down. You knew what Darla thought about you. 

“And he’s real handsome, so if you don’t go over there, I will.”

Handsome? Not a lot of handsome men came into the diner, mostly old timers and truck drivers. 

The man in the booth had his menu folded out and blocking his face. “Hi, can I help you?”

“Oh hi, what a coincidence!” He grinned, letting the plastic menu flop down onto the table, his cocktail napkin fluttering off the table for a brief moment. 

“How did you—” 

“Easy. You were wearing your uniform yesterday. And I was just so overtaken with guilt last night, I could barely sleep, you see. I didn’t even ask you what your name was, so I had to come see you and correct my wrongdoing.”

“You just love to talk, don’t you Eddie.”

You told him your name before asking if he wanted to order.

“I’ll have a chocolate—”

You grimaced.

“—vanilla?”

Your expression looked much more agreeable. 

“A vanilla shake. With two straws?” He asked hopefully.

“Oh, are you meeting somebody else? I can put in the order and bring it out later if you are,” you trailed off, completely oblivious to his flirting. Because if you were being honest with yourself, who would want to flirt with you?

You waited for his response but he only shook his head. 

“I was actually hoping you might want to…”

“Oh! I mean–sure alright. I could use a break.. Just gimme one second and I’ll be right back.”

Eddie hated vanilla. It was too boring. But he’d order a vanilla shake everyday if it meant he got to look at you so up close. Every time you wanted a drink you would lean in, hands in your lap, and he could see every perfect detail of your face. 

Suddenly Eddie’s brows furrowed, and you sat up straight. 

“You’ve got something on your face. Just there.” He mirrored where it was on his own face, frowning when you didn’t get it. 

“No, more to the right.”

You tried again with no success.

“Can you just get it?” 

Bingo. 

You leaned in close again, and Eddie leaned in too. Before you could blink, he’d scooped his finger through the whipped cream on top of the shake and smeared it across your upper lip. 

You laughed and laughed, like you hadn’t laughed in a long time, licking just beneath your nose to try and get rid of it. 

Your laughter fizzled out quickly. You felt a sharp pain shoot through your stomach. You heard Eddie say your name gently, but your ears were ringing too much to really register it. 

“I should uhm, get back to—to work.” You pushed yourself up from the booth with shaky arms and headed towards the bathroom. You didn’t make it more than a couple of steps before Eddie was grabbing your upper arm with one hand and your waist with his other. 

His mouth was close to your ear as he spoke in a hushed tone. “You’re bleeding, sweetheart. We need to go.”

“What? I—that’s not possible.” You twisted around to look, wincing as the pain in your stomach doubled. “I can’t leave I have to—Kenny will kill me, he’ll fire me!”

Eddie wasn’t letting you out of his grasp, leading you straight towards the door and to his van and completely ignoring your protests. 

“Alright, up we go.” He grunted, helping you into the passenger seat. He ran behind the van so you wouldn’t see how panicked and rushed he really was. 

“Okay, nothing to worry about. We’re just gonna go to the hospital!” 

“Eddie, the seat. If I’m bleeding I’ll ruin it.”

“How about we cross that bridge when we get to it, kay?” He quickly glanced away from the road and gave you a nervous smile, writing it off as shock. 

The hospital was busy, lots of doctors and nurses passed you by as you sat in the uncomfortable bed wearing nothing more than a paper-thin gown, waiting for somebody to tell you what was happening. The first nurse you saw hadn’t talked much to you when you first came in, only taking a urine and blood sample and then disappearing. 

Finally, a different nurse came in, taking a seat in the chair beside your bed with a clipboard. She was kinder than the first.

“Are you sleeping alright, sugar?”

You nodded. “Sometimes, besides when I wake up in the middle of the night to puke, and then I’m too nauseous to go back to sleep.”

“You working?”

You hummed. 

“How much are you working?”

“Enough.”

“How much are you working?”

“Only about forty five hours.”

It was more like sixty, but you figured she wouldn’t like that answer. 

“Honey,” she sighed, lowering her clipboard. “You’re stressed, and you’re tired. It’s not good for the baby.” 

“Alright. So, what does that mean?” 

You knew what it meant; she was about to tell you to take some time off work, to rest and relax. And the anticipation of those words made your lips curve downwards and tears prick your eyes. You didn’t have time for that. 

She wheeled you back out into the waiting room, and you were surprised to see Eddie was still there, bouncing his knee and biting his lip. He calmed down when he saw you in one piece.

“A bit overkill, isn’t it?” You joked shyly, feeling overwhelming guilt for ruining Eddie’s day when you barely even knew him. 

“Can I stand up now?” You glanced up at the nurse and she nodded.

You and Eddie left the hospital, but not before stopping at the gift shop so Eddie could get a roll of sweet tarts and a yoohoo. 

“She said everything is just fine, by the way.” You smiled, making your tone as peachy as you could as you walked slowly back to his van. 

Eddie knew you were lying, but it wasn’t the time to pry.

“Thank you, and I’m sorry. I know this probably threw off your day so, you know. And whatever it costs to get your van cleaned I promise I’ll pay it, it just might take a little while is all.”

“Sheila will be alright. She’s seen worse, y’know.” 

You groaned, not missing the wink he shot you. Then you were seated in Eddie’s van again, listening to the engine hum steadily. 

“I should get back to work. Kenny will be wondering where I am.”

“Yeah, no way. I’m taking you home. You need—”

Don’t say it. 

“—to rest.”

You snapped.

“Eddie. Just take me back to work, okay? Honestly, I don’t know what your angle is here. Play prince valiant because you have nothing better to do? Pity the poor, lonely pregnant girl to feel better about yourself?”

You looked over at him expectantly, waiting for him to yell back or kick you out of the car, but his eyes stayed on the road. The rest of the drive back to the diner was uncomfortable. You kept opening your mouth to apologize, or blame your outburst on hormones, but you couldn’t. Maybe it was for the best, though. 

The rest of your shift was horrible. Your customers were relentless, more ketchup here, burger too well done there, and to top it off, you couldn’t stop thinking about how you’d treated Eddie. 

You were relieved to be home, relaxing into your couch and enjoying the feeling returning to your sore feet. As nice as it felt, there was a sinking feeling in your gut telling you you’d really fucked up. You would’ve called him, but you didn’t even have his number. 

You fell asleep on your couch, not having the energy to change out of your work clothes, and using the sweater tied around your waist to cover up the blood as a blanket.

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Writing Resources: Chronic Migraines

Sp's resources for Content Creators Materialist

This is a long post!

Trigger warnings for discussion of chronic migraines. Other authors are more than welcome to add their own points and I will update the link in the masterlist as more is added. Alternatively, send me an anon ask or DM if you want to remain anonymous. I live with this condition every day and it has a serious impact on my life, don't be an ass.

This is a follow to this post I am over the moon at how many people are using/sharing it. Thank you so much!!

Basic facts

If you take anything away from this post, please make it this, migraines are not just really bad headaches. Migraines describe a wide range of neurological issues.

Remission happens, but it is a pipe dream for most people and many people who go into remission end up getting them again. This means that there is no cure, only treatment. Partial remission (less than ten migraines a month) is far more common and is what most people aim for.

Three out of four people who have migraines are AFAB, as the last post states being AFAB makes it much harder to access treatment.

Migraines are a registered disability and cost people/counties millions of dollars a year in treatment.

Miragines run in families but that doesn't mean they can't come from other sources.

There may be no clear cause.

Some people have spots on their brains that show up in MRIs others do not. Not having spots doesn't mean you are lying.

Some migraines mimic strokes.

For some people, nothing works, they have tried everything below and get no relief.

The Migraine

It starts with the prodrome this is the attack phase. Some people get an aura which might mean vision changes or smelling things that aren't there. Some people (myself included) don't get auras this does not mean we are lying.

The attack phase, this is when the pain starts. See symptoms for more information.

Postdrome, this is what happens after. Some people become very hungry, some people get huge bursts of energy, and some people are so tired they can't get out of bed.

Symptoms

Head pain, but not always, silent migraines and/or stomach migraines exist. The pain can be crushing/squeezing, pounding, sharp, burning, stabbing or a mix. Pain is often not isolated to the head and can affect the face, neck and shoulders as well.

Sensitivity to light (this is a huge one of me, I live in the Batcave) it can be so bad during an attack I can't even stand the light of my powerboard.

Sensitivity to sound, some people may find the spinning of a fan unbearable.

Sensitivity to smell. Anything from flowers to strong perfume and food smell can make a person feel very ill.

Sore skin, being touched can hurt.

Aggravation by movement/changing in position. Imagine being worried about getting up to use the bathroom because you know your pain will go from severe to "oh my god I want to die." When I am very bad, I have to spend around five minutes going from lying down, to sitting up to standing.

Tingling and numbness.

Facial drooping.

Nausea and vomiting. I have often said that if it was just pain, I could cope (bullshit) feeling nausea is horrible.

Brain fog. This can be so bad that people can forget very basic things.

Emotional ups and downs, being in pain can be really rough.

Triggers

The heat/cold.

Getting not enough/too much/poor sleep.

Certain foods.

Alcohol

Strong smells, I cannot use public transport without serious planning because most people don't know how strong their perfumes are.

Too much/too little/any exercise or exertion.

Changes in the weather. I used to love the rain, but I had to stop taking a drug due to its side effects, the rain now ruins my day.

Treatment Information/Treatments

A neurologist is the main treatment doctor.

People have to keep headache diaries.

To be diagnosed with a migraine disorder a person has to have more than head pain and/or head pain a certain number of times a month.

For some treatments a person has had to have others fail.

Emgality

Emgality sends people into remission. However, its use is limited because the body devolves antibodies. Imagine finally being pain-free years after of trying, then having something that works fail a year down the line, that's what many Emgality deal with.

Emgality is an auto-injector that goes in just below the skin, the is less body fat you have to more it hurts. My pain ruins my appetite and I'm thin, had it worked for me (it didn't) using it would have been difficult as I found the injection very painful.

Emgality can be very expensive.

There are two initial injections then one, once a month. They need to be kept in the fridge.

Botox

Botox can be very effective, it consists of up to forty injections every 8-12 weeks in the jaw, forehead, scalp neck and shoulder. I don't find these painful. In the case of where I live, the co-pay is every 12 weeks.

It is nothing like the botox you get for wrinkles.

Protocols for getting botox can be very strict, like all other treatments, botox can become ineffective over time. In the case of where I live, you had to either have had 8 days a month with migraines and/or 15 days with head pain.

Cost without a co-pay can be in the thousands.

Continued treatment with a co-pay may mean botox has to be effective after two rounds, it can take up to four for things to really work.

I start feeling it wear off at 9 weeks, which means for three weeks I am back to 5 pain days a week. This is very common and is mentioned in a lot of botox information.

For me the injections feel like being grabbed by tiny little hands.

Many people (myself included) get a post-botox migraine, they are not fun.

For some people botox does nothing or makes them even worse.

Below is the most basic injection map, I and many people I know get more than what is listed. It varies from person to person and often takes multiple rounds to find out what extra sights are helpful.

Preventive Medications

Daily pills that can be anything from anti-depressants to epilepsy medication.

They may work wonders, but side effects can ruin them. These can include, damage to internal organs, serious changes in weight, brain fog so bad you can't function and some drugs cause fetal deformities.

Most people will try a lot of preventive before they find one that works, some people will never find anything.

Daily cannabis can also be a preventative, both CBD and THC.

The list below is the most common

Abortives

These are used in the prodrome or attack phase.

The drugs could be triptans in the form of pills, injections and nasal sprays, muscle relaxants, sleeping pills, antihistamines and opioids and other pain medications including cannabis (both CBD and THC).

Other options.

A dark, comfortable room.

Heat and or cold treatment.

Magnesium injections and fluids.

Hot showers.

Physical therapy.

Dental treatment.

Roll-ons, creams and pain sprays with or without THC and CBD.

Tips on writing

Suggesting things like drinking water, doing yoga, taking xyz out of your diet, getting some sun, going for a walk or seeing a therapist is a really shitty thing to do. If you're doing this in your writing, then try to show it for what it is, an invading experience that happens over and over and over again. It's really nice when someone I know calls a person out on this.

Miragine sufferers often force themselves to function, if your character has a migraine and they have stuff to do, show that it's hard for them. Show that they are angry and distressed and want nothing more than to go home and rest and be out of pain.

Show the desperation that can take place. There are times I would have done anything to get out of pain. I would do whatever I could even if I knew it wasn't going to help. When all you can think about is how much pain you're in you will do anything to make it go away.

Being in pain all the time can make your normal abnormal, I can function fine at pain levels that send some people to the ER. You have no choice but to cope and many people (myself included) grow to dismiss their pain. Putting into words "it doesn't matter that I can't even keep water down or that the light shining through my eyelids makes me want to die, there's shit to be done."

I have cried when people have told me they have believed me, Many people do not want to be looked after, they just want to be acknowledged.

Fiction around someone looking after someone else can be wonderful (it's a part of many of my fics) If you want to write a caretaker fic/screen have the caretaker ask what the person needs, have them do research and show them being an advocate.

Please DM me if you have any questions.

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

Could you do something for “You think you’re so smart, don’t you?”

TW: Abuse, kidnapping, restraints, referenced murder and human experimentation, manipulation

Tommy woke up to a banging headache in a pitch black room, body screaming in agony from lying on cold stone. Groaning in pain, he strained to try and sit up only to find heavy, tight chains holding him down and making it impossible to so much as flinch.

Prime. He needed a fucking potion. The gnawing sense of emptiness hurt worse than anything else, sending ants marching through his skin and his brain.

Suddenly, a bright light shined directly into his eyes, illuminating the room. Tommy gagged seeing how red it was- he wasn’t fucking stupid, he knew that shade. Even despite the sickening sweet smell of flowery perfume covering the rot, it was clear- someone had to have died here, for the room to be covered in so much blood.

A claw hooked underneath his chin, forcing him to painfully crane his neck up to look in the face of his captor (he wasn’t even surprised to see that damned fucking mask again, because really, of course it’d be him). Dream gave a pleased trilling noise as Tommy glared at him, sounding excited. “Oh, Tommy! You're awake!”

“Where the fuck am I?”

“Oh, the old cells I kept the old test subjects in, before they bored me too much.” There was an ice cold venom in that, like boring him was a crime worthy of the worst scorn. “You can leave once you learn some humility. The room, I mean, I'm not stupid enough to let you run to big brother Wilby. Aww, wait… he left, didn’t he? Everyone leaves you but me.”

“What do you even mean? Humility? I was- I just wanted you to leave me alone. I wasn’t- I wasn't-“

Dream cut him off with a sharp slap. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you? Oh, yeah, you just wanted to be left alone, that’s why you’ve been stalking me. Did you think I was stupid enough to not notice the invisibility particles, Tommy? Oh, you naïve little thing. I almost admire it, y’know?”

Tommy was stupid. Tommy was so, so fucking stupid. Of course Dream noticed. Maybe he deserved this. He let out a sob he didn’t know he was holding back. “How long…?”

“The whole time?” Dream laughed, bemused. “You really are an idiot, Tommy. How could I not notice you following me around like a lost puppy as soon as your so-called brother left you all alone? It's sweet, really, seeing you come crawling back as soon as everyone else shows their true colours. I can’t be that mad.”

Tommy spat directly onto Dream's dumb mask. “That isn’t what I was doing and you know it, cunt.”

He expected a hit, but instead Dream only gently ruffled his blood-matted hair, putting pressure on a wound he didn’t know he had and causing him to whimper in pain, something Dream pointedly ignored. “And he doesn’t even know himself. You poor little thing. So lost without someone to guide you. Don’t worry, Tommy. I'll get you to realise in no time.”

[charnelhouse]

the way u write frank castle .... pls im yearning ...

A/N: Frank Castle x F!Reader. Bathroom sex. wound care. hurt/comfort.

Frank goes to Sister Margarets more than he should. He’s a frequent patron - addicted to its grime and the way the bartender doesn’t fret over spilled blood. He’s always bloody. It is as if he can’t screw the faucet shut. He bleeds and bleeds and his bones shatter and his lungs collapse, but he does not flinch or waver.

The injuries he receives in a fight are good. They blossom under his skin until he has a map of bruises from forearm to abdominal muscle to his inner thigh.

Honestly - he likes pain. He's a sadist. Maybe.

There’s a girl, too. A girl who is another fixture at Sister Margarets. He can’t tell how old she is because she is a multitude of contrasts. She is always clad in short, pleated skirts and navy sweaters that fit her like a second skin. A starched white button-up. Plum-berry lipstick. She would have been his porno fantasy a lifetime ago when he was stationed in the desert or those random nights when he felt like jacking off to a plastic-neon images he could envision between doctor appointments or soccer practices.

She is all of these things on the outside, but when he gets up close he sees a rift in her candy-pink shine. Her eyes are melancholy - aged and sharp and knowing.

He isn’t sure who or what she is, but sometimes she’ll sit next to him at the bar and they’ll sip their drinks in silence.

Sometimes they’ll fuck.

***

The bar’s bathroom is small and brown. The walls are papered with old newspaper clippings of St. Margaret’s patron’s affairs: the death of crime boss Raymond Reynolds, the capture of Kingpin, the battle of New York, etc.

Frankie fucks the girl with the same bruising roughness he utilizes to fight. He grabs her hard by the hips, hitches her white panties to the side, and plunges into her from behind. He gets a hand around her throat and squeezes until she bucks into him. There’s not a word shared other than grunting, the slap of skin, and brittle demands rippled in a low voice. Touch yourself. Arch your back.

She flashes her eyes at him - flutters her lashes. His cock shears through her slippery heat and it’s as if every stroke hits the rear of her throat. It’s crude - obscene and desperate and it’s perfect for Castle.

***

“You’re bleeding,” she remarks - casting him a sidelong glance. Her fingertips look as if she’d dunked them in a pot of gold powder. They glow faintly. It’s the first time she’s ever said a word to him that isn’t harder, faster, thanks.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s dripping on the floor.”

He shrugs and downs his drink - enjoying the warm brush of the alcohol. She stands abruptly - leaning close so that her breast knocks against his bicep. He can smell her perfume - it’s sugary and floral and gives him a faint headache.

“Bathroom,” she orders and he goes because of course he does.

***

Once inside, he grabs her fiercely by the waist.

“No,” she protests softly. “I didn’t mean that.”

That - the word that captures their dirty public restroom fucking.

“Take your shirt off,” She pushes his jacket off and then her fingers slide under the hem of his t-shirt. He stinks of blood - the iron swell of it clashing with her candy perfume.

He let her wrestle his shirt off. She doesn’t gasp when she sees the seeping parted flesh over his ribs. There is a new wash of red running into his jeans. She tilts her head - chewing her lower lip thoughtfully. He wants to lunge forward and take it between his teeth.

“Lean back.”

He does - his lower spine glued to the cold edge of the sink. She places her hand on his ribs and finally, her eyes meet his. She is very pretty - disarmingly so because he can’t read her well at all. Then again Frank Castle doesn’t try to read anyone. He doesn’t have the energy - the wherewithal to care.

“You must be fairly trusting,” she says.

“I don’t trust.”

She taps her fingers against his skin, her expression is curious. “You trusted me to do this?”

“I wouldn’t call that trust,” he shrugs. “I just don’t really give a shit.”

“What if I came in here to hurt you?”

“We haven’t used this bathroom for anything, but fucking. I made an assumption.”

“I suppose.”

She slides her tongue over her mouth. There’s the waxy sheen of her lipstick. “You don’t care if you get hurt,” she states, but it could be a question. He’s beginning to sweat.

“Not particularly.”

Then there is silence - the conversation is cut short. Her palm begins to heat and there’s a sharp, throbbing pain where the wound is. He ignores the sting because he’s had worse - a thousand times worse. But then he notices that her jaw tightens - her nostrils flaring like she’s the one in pain.

He glances down and there is a clean plane of skin over his abdominal muscles. She removes her hand and staggers back and he lunges for her - gripping her waist and letting her lean against his chest. “Sorry,” she pants. “I get a little woozy.”

She’s got her brow shoved up against his jaw. His chin is nudging the top of her head. It’s a strangely intimate position and yet he does not release her. She might fall.

“Did you feel it?”

“Feel what?”

“The knife wound.”

She chuckles, but it sounds empty. “Is that what that was?”

He grunts. She’s quiet for a long moment as if she is considering his question. “I feel it for a few moments. It’s the cost of being able to heal pretty much anything.”

“You shouldn’t have wasted it on me.”

“Why?”

“I don’t need it.”

“Alright,” she murmurs.

Frankie regrets his indifference. He should thank her. She had done him a service and now he wouldn’t be wasting a week trying to shut the wound with staples and risking infection.

“Sorry,” he mumbles in a gruff voice. He sounds miserable.

“You don’t like people taking care of you.”

“Is that a question or a statement? I can’t tell with you.”

“An observation. No one who comes to Sister Margaret’s likes to be taken care of - most of us have nowhere else to sulk.” Her cheek is still firmly pressed to his bare chest - her breathing is even and slow.

“Why’d you heal me then?”

“Maybe I wanted to give you something.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“You said that already.”

He shifts - rearranges his arm so that it slides around her waist - his hand finds her hip. He doesn't push her away or tell her to get off of him. He just lets her use him as long as she needs.

[newmih]

"You just noticed what?"

Words: 518

Characters: Mac, Jack, reader, mention of Riley and Matty

AN: This imagine sucks!!! But I had to post something sorry! I have a lot of other stuff going on and a lot less short and lame.... And let's all imagine that it's you instead of the gifs and not Jack. Because someone has to annoy Mac.

Bonne lecture

Why did the mission always have to go wrong? This time a pursuit had started and you were running through the forest with Mac to the exfiltration point where Riley and Jake where waiting for you. The sunlight was getting harder to you because of the branches of the different trees. The heat in contrast was getting to you very easily. The sweater you were wearing seemed to get heavier and heavier as you sweated.

-I really need to work on my cardio! I need a break! Please stop!

Mac stopped a few feet away after he understood the meaning of your sentences. Sometimes you felt like you were speaking a different language, or maybe he was speaking a different language, full of numbers and equations and... Okay, this was really not the time to give yourself a headache over something so small.

You bent down a little with your hands on your knees to catch your breath.

-Take off your sweater if you're too hot, we'll hide it under some leaves. -Excuse me sir, I'm not leaving my sweater here! Do you know how much this thing cost me? -Then why did you put it on?! -It's not my fault if I didn't plan on having to run in the middle of a forest because you couldn't stop yourself from sneezing! -Your perfume is too strong ! You could make an effort! -Guys, I don't know if you've noticed but you're being chased by bad guys with big guns so I really don't think this is the time to be arguing like kids!

You stopped screaming and the crack of a branch was heard not far from you.

-It must be an animal. There are many here.

You shared a look with Mac and after a grin you started running as fast as you could under a rain of bullets. Trying to avoid the branches that got in your way and the rocks on the ground that tried to knock you down was almost impossible while being careful not to get shot. Fortunately for you, your pursuers had the same problems.

You turned your head for a few seconds to see if they were catching up to you but you couldn't see anything because you had just turned a corner to get to a path. Smart Y/N. Suddenly, you felt a sharp pain in your shoulder but it quickly disappeared so you didn't pay much attention to it thinking that it was probably a branch that you had failed to avoid.

A voice cut you off in your run and Matty announced that his team had finally arrived and surrounded your enemy. You didn't have to run anymore.

Your friend stopped without turning to you and caught his breath. The adrenaline from the race wore off and a pain in your shoulder made you groan in pain. Then you noticed that your sleeve was covered in blood. Great.

-Mac! He didn't answer, still focused on catching his breath. -Mac! -What?! -I just noticed that I got shot. you say with a little laugh -You just noticed what?!

[evebestt]

Hiya! Since I really adored what you did with my last request I was wondering if I could send through another prompt for a Farah dowling x female reader where Farah and Queen Luna have this sort of unspoken but very clear competition for readers heart and when Farah sees what she thinks to be queen Luna inching towards the finish line she gets envious/cold but really Farah had readers heart all along❤️

Thank you so much by the way. I really appreciate what you do. Sending peace and love and happiness your way xx.

Hi there! Sorry this took a bit, I rewrote it a couple of times. But I love the prompt! I hope you enjoy 🖤

Send me an ask or a message to request a fic. Search my blog for "prompts" to see lists of prompt ideas.

A/N: honestly unless explicitly stated, just assume that in all my fics, the season one ending that we don't talk about didn't happen. Farah's not even napping, she's still alive and awake and being her wonderful self.

To Find Your Truth

Since the Alfean battle with the Burned Ones, Solaria had indeed dispatched a troop of soldiers to be permanently stationed at the school. Between that and the continual growth of Alfea, it soon became clear that a new position would be needed to coordinate the Alfean and Royal schedules. You had been hired in that position, working as a liaison between Farah and Luna, meaning that you worked very closely with the both of them. You’d been a little overwhelmed by your work at first, working not just with the Headmistress of a powerful school and the Queen of the entire realm, but with two of the most powerful fairies – if not the two most powerful fairies in the realm – but Farah and Luna had both made you feel comfortable in your work.

The women were very different. Farah was quiet and calm, her power cool and still under her pristine surface – but undeniably there. Luna, however, was like a fire, sharp and calculating, her power exuding from her and filling every room she entered, even if it was superficially masked in sweet pastels and warm light. You liked them both, despite the differences, and whatever rumors you heard about them.

And they liked you too. Farah often offered you sweet smiles that she didn’t give to everyone, and your meetings with her would sometimes drift into personal conversation, especially if you had them over lunch together. Luna too made her affection for you known, soft touches on your arm that lingered just a moment longer than a friendly touch would, or heartfelt remarks on how she’d never be able to function without you, all of which never failed to make you blush.

You weren’t quite sure when it became a competition between the two of them. It might have happened the day when Luna astral projected into your office, interrupting a lunch meeting with Farah that had gone long with conversation. You’d both been laughing with Luna’s form had appeared, Farah’s eyes bright with affection as she gazed at you fondly, and although you’d both become entirely professional when Luna appeared, you knew she’d seen the way you looked at each other just as clearly as you’d seen the possessive gleam in her eye.

Though your meeting with Luna after that had gone smoothly, as well as all of your other meetings, you could sense that tension in both of the women, like they both had something to prove.

Or more likely, you realized, like they were both trying to win your heart.

Luna became even more bold with her gentle touches, even going so far as to lay a hand on your cheek one night, smiling softly before she retreated and wished you goodnight, offering you a room in the castle if you didn’t want to make the trip back to Alfea. Even Farah, as composed as she was, was more forward in her advances, eyes flicking to your lips when she paid you compliments, or when you rolled your neck to try and ease a headache, she would merely reach out and touch two fingers to your temple, the pain melting away in seconds.

You could admit that you liked the advances of both of them women, feeling as though you could preen under their attentions. Not only did you have Farah — a legendary fairy in her own right — showing you affection, but the Queen of Solaria as well, making you feel like the star of a period piece, your two handsome, wealthy suitors courting you in their attempts to win your hand. You were content with the flirting and the fantasies of both women, not thinking much about where relationships with either of them would go in fear of complicating things. But one afternoon in your office at Alfea, you realized you’d have to decide just where your heart lay.

Instead of her normal astral projecting, Luna had come to your office in person, needing to update her calendar for you and reconcile her schedule with Farah’s and find time for their combined meetings.

“My quarterly inspection of the troop’s preparations here at Alfea needs to happen in the next couple of weeks — hopefully those can drop to biannual next year — Farah will need to be present for that. It will take an afternoon, when can I make that happen?”

You flipped through the large planner on your desk, Farah’s meetings written in blue, Luna’s in red. “Both you and Ms. Dowling have a free afternoon in two weeks on a Friday — though you have an event that night, ma’am, that you’ll have to—”

“Please,” Luna interrupted with a smile, “how many times have I told you to call me Luna?”

You smiled back. “Too many to count… Luna.” It still felt odd to use the Queen’s given name, but her self satisfied smile as she sat back in her chair did make the odd feeling worth it.

“Good,” she praised. “Now, that’s the Benefactor’s Gala, correct? I’ll only need to make a short appearance and give a speech towards the end, so I’ll have plenty of time to dress. Though—” she came around your desk to study the planner herself, standing so close that you could smell her sweet perfume, “that lunch meeting may run long.” She dropped to her elbows on your desk, hips, clad in a dusky rose pencil skirt, cocked in a tantalizing fashion near your head, and you had to fix your eyes pointedly on your planner. “What about this Wednesday here?”

You went back and forth for a while, pencilling in various events. You couldn’t help but let out a sigh as you wrote the last one, feeling your back ache with the strain of both the work and of feigning nonchalance with Luna’s body so near to yours.

Luna seemed to feel the same, straightening to roll her shoulders, but then surprised you by perching on the arm of your chair, somehow looking effortlessly graceful as she crossed her legs, leaving her balanced on the toe of one of her stilettos. “A queen’s work is never done, hm?”

You laughed softly, not letting your eyes linger on the smooth expanse of her legs. “You wouldn’t be a very good Queen if it was.”

Luna laughed too, rich and smooth, and she looked down at you for a long moment before reaching out and tracing the line of your jaw with one finger. “Lucky I have you, then. To help keep me a good Queen.”

You felt yourself blush, jaw tingling where Luna had touched you. You felt your eyes drift to her lips unconsciously, tracing the smooth, sharp lines. Those lips curved into a smirk, and you blushed further, eyes snapping up to meet Luna’s again, who’s glinted with mirth. She traced the line of your jaw again, slower this time, her hand coming to cup your cheek as her eyes flicked over your features, staring as though she was memorizing you.

Lighting zipped in your stomach when you thought you saw Luna lean towards you, just an inch, but your breath caught, eyes flicking to her lips again as she stroked your cheekbone with her thumb.

A clearing of a throat came from the doorway making you spring back, back hitting the arm of your chair. You blushed even further, your cheeks on fire as you tried to get as far away from Luna as possible, who for her part kept her composure, still perched comfortably on the arm of your chair as she stared at Farah in challenge.

“Farah,” you said, trying to pretend Luna wasn’t there, which was difficult considering where she sat. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t realize we had a meeting today.”

“We didn’t,” Farah said smoothly, still staring cooly at Luna. Her gaze shifted to you then, still cold, and you felt your stomach drop. “I thought I’d stop by to see if you were still here. But if you’re otherwise occupied…” she trailed off, looking at Luna again, and your blush which had started to recede came back in full force, feeling like a student she was disciplining.

“No worries, Farah,” Luna said brightly, looking smug as she stood from her perch. “I should be going anyway.” She turned to you then, giving you a radiant smile. “Thank you for all of your help, dear. You are truly a blessing.” She gave you a wink and then headed for the door, passing closer to Farah than was strictly necessary, and you thought Farah’s hackles would have raised if she had any.

A horribly awkward silence fell over the two of you, and you picked at the edge of your desk, unable to meet Farah’s eyes. She cleared her throat again and you then met her eyes, fighting what felt like the permanent blush in your cheeks.

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” Farah said softly.

“No, no, it wasn’t interrupting,” you insisted, still feeling like you’d done something wrong, but why? There wasn’t anything owed between you, but still you felt like you’d been caught. “Is there, ah, something I can help you with?”

Farah opened her mouth like she was going to speak, but then closed it, smiling at you. It was a warmer smile than before, but it still didn’t reach her eyes, and you felt your stomach drop again. “No, it was nothing. Have a good night.”

And she turned and left, leaving you alone and still blushing.

Why did you feel so horrible? It was a little embarrassing to be caught nearly kissing the Queen in your office with the door open, but the waves of shame and regret rolling through you seemed unwarranted. You and Luna were both adults, as was Farah, and each was entitled to their fun.

Deep down you knew why, and the longer you thought about it, the more sure you were. Flirting with Luna was fun, sure, but with Farah it was something more. With Farah, it was a beginning, the promise of something more, a calling from somewhere in your soul that told you there was something there, something that could be beautiful if you both just took a chance.

You were in love with Farah Dowling. You’d been a fool to not see it for so long, but now that you did it was undeniable, and you couldn’t bear not to tell her, for her to think a moment longer that you didn’t feel for her the way she must feel for you.

It was late now, and after finding her office empty you headed towards Farah’s cottage, not wanting to wait until the morning to find her. As you waited at her door, you thought about what you’d say, rehearsed several confessions, but when the door opened and Farah stood there, hair loosely braided and face bare of makeup, all words left your head.

“Can I come in?” you asked after a long moment, and Farah nodded, stepping aside.

You were both silent again, Farah obviously waiting for you to start as she moved around you into the living room.

“I, uh, wanted to apologize for… earlier,” you started hesitantly, unsure how receptive Farah would be.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. You and Luna are… close. You shouldn’t have to hide that.”

Her words were kind, but Farah held something back, something in her eyes that belied more hurt than she let on. Sorrow pulled at your chest, and you had to clench your fists to keep from going to her to comfort.

“No, that wouldn’t be something to hide, but I meant that… I just wanted to clarify— and what I wanted to apologize for—“ Hell with it, nothing sounded right but the truth. “I’m in love with you,” you blurted, and Farah’s head popped up, staring at you in surprise.

“I love you,” you continued, “and I need you to know that, because what I’m really trying to apologize for is that it took me nearly kissing Luna to realize it myself. I think my heart has always belonged to you, Farah, and I’m sorry that I played this game for so long when I could have been with you.”

You stopped, taking a deep breath and studying Farah. She looked at you cautiously but otherwise unreadable, and for a moment you thought you’d misread her attraction to you, utterly destroying whatever friendly relationship you had.

And then she smiled. Slowly, but it was a real one, and it lit up her eyes so that you couldn’t help but smile yourself.

“I—“ Farah started, and then trailed off, still smiling. And then, deciding better of words, she closed the gap between you in three steps, took you into her arms, and kissed you.

Luna’s touch had been thrilling, exciting, but Farah’s touch, oh, Farah’s touch felt like coming home. You leaned into her, gripping her waist to keep yourself upright as you melted into the kiss, feeling her warm and soft underneath you. Your head swam with dizzying happiness, feeling like a puzzle whose last piece had just clicked into place — full and complete and radiantly beautiful. You could nearly feel Farah pulsing with the same happiness as she kissed you, making a small noise against your mouth, to which you sighed and opened your mouth to her, tasting her sweet and tender on your tongue.

You stayed close when the kiss ended, Farah running her hands lightly up and down your back, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

You smiled, feeling as though you might overflow with happiness, and bumped your nose with hers. “Me too. Even if it took me a while to realize how deeply I felt, I always knew I wanted to kiss you.”

Farah smiled again and then gripped your hips, pulling you closer to her. “I thought, when I saw you and Luna, that I’d waited too long to make the depth of my feelings known. I’m sorry for how brisk I was earlier.”

You shook your head, leaning your forehead against Farah’s. “Thank you. Though I can’t blame you. I don’t know how I would have reacted, in your position, though I know I wouldn’t have liked it.”

“It was certainly a shock,” Farah said, and then huffed out a laugh, pulling your hips closer to her. “I’d been coming to ask you to dinner tonight. Not just as colleagues, but as… friends. Maybe something more. Then seeing you together, I… jealous is too weak a word to describe what I felt.” She shook her head then like she tried to banish the thought, and squeezed your hips gently. “I’m glad you’re here.”

She said it simply enough, but the weight behind her words had you wrapping your arms around her neck. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, and no one else I’d rather be with. I mean that.”

Farah let out a soft, contented sigh, and gently cupped your cheeks before kissing you again, filling you with light and love, speaking just as clearly with her kiss as though she’d spoken it in your mind.

I love you, too.

[alixdelcourt]

You're way too precious to me

Ft. Katsuki Bakugou, Eijirou Kirishima, Denki Kaminari x female reader

Genre : angst, deep and dark angst (I had hard time writing this) and slight comfort in the end

WC and warnings : 2.7 k / Angst, dark mood, hurt feelings, depression, emotional burn out, light mention of self-harm, crying and feeling down. Please be careful reading this, and skip it if you're insecure or having mental troubles, I struggled writing this and felt hurt myself, so please be careful.

Note : I hope that I achieved your request okay, @d3nk1x, and that it's what you requested for. I discovered that I am not that comfortable with angst... I definitely prefer fluff or smut. This isn't for me... So maybe it's not well writen. Please let me know.

Dating katsuki Bakugou is quiet a big deal, and not always an easygoing relationship. All the anger, frustration and brutality he bottles inside of him prevents bakugou from being a perfect boyfriend. But, whatever ! Who needs perfection anyway ? When you felt in love with him, you were aware of all these matters. You love him just the way he is. After all, love is for the better and for the worse, so you always find your way forgiving his roughness and harsh attitude.

But, lately, you find yourself patching up your own feelings and emotions because of him. You have more and more trouble taking the blows, and some wounds of yours refuse to heal. So you slightly change, trying to give him hints of your unhappiness, of your insecurities. But in vain…

Today has been particularly tough, and you just feel… down. You need whatever comfort you can find, and you’re craving for your boyfriend affection. But today hasn’t been a good day for him as well. He lost all his training sessions to Kirishima and Deku, and he’s pissed off. So when you came up to him and asked for a few caring, he just… erupts. You were a sadness soused combustible, and his fury sparks caught fire on you so well. He poured all of his raging emotions on you, and the words he spat to you were like sharp knives cutting your skin and letting all of the pain seep deep into you.

… You just wanted some cuddles. Was it too much to ask ? Just a pinch of affection to sprinkle on your illness. An ounce of empathy. And here you are, buried under your blanket, fist clenched, closed eyes crying, and all your body shaking because of the your hurted feelings. His words keep streaming in your mind, destroying you a little more every time they start again.

“Stop clinging at me like you do ! Look at you, you seem so miserable right now… It really pisses me off.

“Please… Katsuki… I need you… I need your-”

“ F*ck off ! You’re always so whiny ! Such a crybaby ! Stop being so dependant and clingy ! I am not your baby-sitter !”

“But… But…”

“I said f*ck off! Get the hell away, and leave me alone ! I can’t stand crybabies like you !”

The message has been perfectly received. It’s printed in capital letters behind your eyelids.

You felt asleep, exhausted from crying, and when you wake up, you couldn’t tell how much time did you spent laying there. But it doesn’t matter. You don’t feel able to get out of your bed, so you just stay here, in the warm fluffy embrace. Whenever you feel some thought triggering your mind, you bite your flesh hard and the concentrate on the pain ‘til you forgot why you started doing this. After a few times, you couldn’t even think of a straight complete sentence.

When the blanket was roughly removed from over you, you didn’t even blink. With a quite long delay, you realize that you should feel the cold air, the disturbing noise and even his touch on your skin… But you’re like under anesthetic. Which makes Bakugou freaks out. He tries to make you react, slaps you, screams your name, while shouting for someone to help him. You’re conscious, but you can’t feel anything. You should probably answer him, but why would you do ? seeing him shouting at you, you think that he’s still mad at you… Why did he come for you then ? If he doesn’t want you anymore, why is he here ? You don’t understand what’s happening.

Maybe because you don’t realize that from his point of view, you seem… dead. Your body is cold and your eyes are empty. The other students called for Aizawa, and recovery Girl came to auscultate you as well. But you didn’t notice, lost in the fog inside your head.

And when you “woke up” from this choc state, you was kind of surprised by a caring boyfriend of yours, who hugs you tight and cuddles you all day long, apologizing and whispering to not ever do this to him again. And when you asked “do what ?”, he goes like “nevermind”, before holding you close. It’s Kirishima that told you what happened. You went through an emotional burn out for a few days, and Bakugou was literally freaking out and feeling guilty because of what he told you. He didn’t mean to hurt you like this, he was mad and didn’t think of the consequences of what he said. He promised he won’t act like this again. He felt like he lost you, and it was unbearable. You’re way too precious for him.

Your relationship with Eijirou Kirishima is based on routines. You both like the fact that you follow a settled pattern that time made up for you. Just small little things that remind you two of the love and affection you share. For example, you wait for him in the morning to go to your classes together, and he waits for you to tidy up your things after class before reaching the cafeteria. He kisses you for goodnight, and you play with his hair for him to fall asleep.

Loving him is easy and sweet. And even if you have arguments, because every healthy relationship goes through some arguments, both of you try to find a way or a solution to deal with it. And lately these times, you just feel so in love with him, you literally can’t help but kissing him all day, spinning around him like a light feather carried by the breath of love between you two.

It’s quiet late at night, and you were in his room. You always end up in his room after dinner for some cuddles and maybe watch a movie together. Then you two just do your own things until you’re getting sleepy and head to bed with the goodnight routine of yours. Like chilling, each one on his own but together. Doesn’t makes a lot of sense, but it works for you two, so you just don’t mind. Tonight, you two had to study for the next math exam that was coming. And it was difficult. Math gives you headache, and hopefully Eijirou is a patient tutor. He kept repeating for you until you got the point. You’re proud of you, and so is he, but you ended the study session a little bit delayed, and he was late to his online gaming sessions with Denki and Sero. He let you finish the last exercise on your own and connect quickly to catch up with the boys.

You read a book, but can’t concentrate with all the math in your head. You can hear your boyfriend gaming and he looks way too attractive to you with his hair flattened by his headphones, tongue sticking out because he’s focused on his game. You smile before reaching his lap. You comfortably sit on it and hug him to express your affection. This is a way better position for reading.

But you still can’t concentrate. Not with your body pressed against him, with you’re *ss on his crotch, with all the dirty thoughts running in your mind. You throw away your annoying book, and start kissing the redhead’s neck. He smells so good… A mix of his wooden scent gel shower and the bitter fresh scent of his aftershave. You get pretty excited, imagining this perfume ruined by his sweat while pounding you. Picturing all these thoughts and imagining Eijirou’s lips on your, you’re getting really needy, aren’t you ? You can’t help but move your hips and rub your lower part on his. Maybe this will get him hard and he’ll be just as needy as you. Maybe you could sleep over here tonight…

But no. Your moving just annoys him. He can’t focus properly on what he’s doing while you wriggle around and sigh on his skin. He can’t hear you moan, he can’t see the desire in your eyes, nor notice the excitation you’re in. He tries to push you off his lap, but you keep trying to get him out of his play. Game over appeared in bloody letters on his screen, and he removes his headphones. When you try to frame his cheeks in order to kiss him, he pushes you away.

“You’re really annoying, you know that ?”

“You say that only because you lost… Come here, let me comfort you”

“No. Not when you’re the reason why I lost. Anyway, I am not in the mood.”

He keeps avoiding your touches and attempts to lay him on bed.

“What is it, babe ? Why don’t you want me to touch you ?”

“I just don’t want to right now. Can’t you understand it ? Or do I need to keep repeating myself like for everything else ?”

This was like a cold shower. It cancelled every single drop of excitement you had. You clench your teeth.

“Okay. I get it.”

And you reach you own room, without any of you wish each other good night. While turning in bed, you couldn’t tell if you’re angry, or disappointed, or sad, or furious, or… You’re hurt. This was an emotion injury you couldn’t explain. And you had no clue even after thinking about this all night. You didn’t manage to sleep, and you were totally depressed and out of your plate on the morning. Like totally lost. You did nothing right. Since breakfast, you kept trudging and having trouble answering even basic questions like “Can you please hand me the butter ?”. This day has passed at a maddening speed, and you can’t tell what happened most of the times. For example, you know that you took an exam today, but you can’t say if it was difficult or not, if you completed it or not. Basically, today you were a zombie.

You desperately needed some sleep. So, in the middle of the dinner, while Momo was pouring you some tea she made for you because you seemed tired, you stood up and went to your room, mumbling a good night by habit. You just crumble on your bed.

“Pebble… Pebble, are you okay ?”

You didn’t even notice that Eijirou followed you, really worried about you. He snugs in the bed with you and hold you close. You two have a difficult conversations when you tell him about all the confusion and the pain you feel. He apologizes and hold you close all night long. And he’ll never act like this again, because the way you were today was definitely not okay for him. From missing his morning kiss to looking like a zombie, nothing was okay. He will watch his mouth to not hurt you anymore because you’re way too precious to him.

Denki has an outgoing personality, no doubt on it. You two are like day and night, you complement yourselves pretty well. He was a loud troublemaker and you are a quite and peaceful person. And these differences are precious to you, but sometimes it’s too complicated to handle.

He’s a loving boyfriend, but he can’t help himself. Always too cheerful, too playful, with anyone. He gets really flirty with any girl that talks to him, even if you’re right there, watching. He tells you to don’t mind, because he doesn’t do this on purpose. It’s just like… like a game. He gets female and even male’s attention, and he feels confident acting out like that. So you just accept it. Have you even got the choice ?

You don’t notice it anymore. His random smirks to Mina, his winks to Jirou, “innocent” sexual implied comments to Toru… Daily, there’s always someone to flirt or to tease with. And it’s the same with random strangers.

Like today. Well… You have to admit that this waitress is really pretty with her bright shiny smile and her disheveled hair buns. And, yeah, maybe she was attractive when she was wrapping this loose lock of her hair around her finger, shyly blushing when Denki was complimenting her and obviously undressing her with his gaze. And of course you can’t deny the fact that she is sexy. Certainly, all this shit is true. But today was supposed to be your day.

Denki and you are on date, he brought you to this fancy place to celebrate your date anniversary. This is all about you and him being in love. So, just for once, you want him to concentrate this flirty attitude of his on you. Was it too much to ask ? But you accept it, once again. He did all the conversation during the meal, and you barely enjoyed the dishes. You just wait for the end of this date to leave the place and the waitress behind.

But your patience has its owns limits. That were crossed far away when the b*tchy waitress, who purposely ignored you all the time, bent over and touched your boyfriend’s lap, giving him the dessert’s menu. You see red all over you, furious and mad, expecting Denki to react, but he just chuckles and light touches her forearm. What was this ? He never allowed anyone to act like this with him. Or maybe you just didn’t know…

“Thank you, miss, but I think that we don’t need you anymore. We’re leaving, could you bring the bill ?”

She stutters a bit, looking at Denki, who was too chocked to react.

“Aren’t we eating the dessert ? Why do you want to leave ?”

“I don’t feel comfortable, I just wanna go home please”

“And I want a dessert, could you please wait ?”

“No, I can’t. I am leaving. You can have a dessert if you want, you can even have the waitress with it as well, I don’t care.”

“Okay, see you later, then. I’ll try to have fun and enjoy, since you don’t know how to do so”

You furiously grab your handbag and run out the restaurant. You don’t stop running until you’re home. Your shaking hands and teary eyes had some trouble opening the door. You crumble against the stubborn closed door and cry yourself out. You can’t hold it. Long sobs, breathless coughs and heartbreaking screams. All this noise brought your neighbor, Sero, to check out what’s happening.

“(Y/N) ?! Are you hurt ? What happened ? What’s wrong ?”

You couldn’t tell him, your anxious cries preventing you from talking straightly. He assured himself that you’re not injured and helped you get in your bedroom. You can’t tell what he was doing around you, your cries slowly turning into a huge panic attack. Curled in your bed, you rock yourself back and forth, cutting yourself out from reality. You couldn’t hear Sero calling Denki and asking him to come home. You couldn’t hear your boyfriend freaking out when he heard you crying like that on phone. You couldn’t know that he was running towards home, feeling guilty and culpable, his sunshine having a mental breakdown because of him.

“Sunshine ? Sunshine! Look at me ! I am right there”

Denki’s voice find its way to your ears, to your mind, to your heart. You hold on to him like a lifeline, trying to calm down. He thanks Sero, who left, before joining you on bed. He breaths heavily for you to focus on his chest going up and down slowly. You imitate his breaths until you can think straight.

“Thank you, Denki… I am sorry, I-”

“I am the one who have to apologize. I acted like a piece shit back there. I am sorry, I didn’t know you were jealous. I shouldn’t act like this, I am sorry. You know, babe, that you’re the one and only. You know it, right ?”

“No… I don’t…”

“I don’t care about anyone else. You’re the one that I love. And if it makes you feel insecure, I’ll stop flirting like that, okay ? It hurts me to see you like this. I don’t want you to be hurt, you’re way too precious to me, babe.”

________________________________

Hey ! I don't have much to say... Hope you enjoyed it, and feel free to request anything else (angst is still okay but I don't handle it well so prepare yourself to be disappointed ^^')

[sp00kworm]

Who needs lights?

Pairing: Durzub (Goth Male Orc) x Gender Neutral Reader

Warning: Suggestive Themes

This wonderful piece is based off a very lovely OC by @of-devils-and-drawings. Durzub belongs to her and I adored him too much not to make this for him. I’m a sucker for anything scary and/or orc.... and/or metal....and/or goth. 

---

You’d always found a little bit of comfort being in the alternative scene, even when others stared and watched in the street as you went past, going about your business, bundled in black layers or flares and platforms. It was something unique and different and it was very much a part of your life. The bars were always better places too. You laughed at the bar at your friend as the bar tender tied his platinum, lilac streaked hair back and started to mix the cocktail for the jug. It was easier to order in large pitchers and watch the band playing from the platform the bar was on. You watched the alcohol mix as the Fae grinned at you, revealing incredibly dangerous, sharp teeth and placed two straws into the jug before sliding it closer to the two of you.

You paid for it before laughing and turning a straw to the Faun, “To our health! Well, and my new job!” You cheered.

“Oh, for sure, finally you’re not broke and can pay for drinks!” She jeered as she pursed her lips and leaned down to take a few long sips, “Jesus Christ, Flix!” She coughed, “You trying to get us drunk and make us easy, or something?”

Flix rolled his eyes as he flipped a cocktail shaker over and caught it, “You wish Pip. You two haven’t ever been my type.” He snorted as his lilac, gossamer wings fluttered behind his back in irritation. He laid his burning black eyes on a group in the corner, “Though, I like the look of those troublemakers.” A claw raised to point at the group of Orcs who were gathered in the corner.

 Pip’s brown ears flicked before her hooves clicked against the black floor, the sparkly tiles reflecting the strobes from the stage. She grinned and flicked at the ring in her nose, her shaggy black hair flopping back over her dark eyes, “Oh,” She purred, “I didn’t know you were into the rowdy muscle-head sort.”

Flix flipped the cocktail again before giving her the middle finger and moving to serve the cocktail to a woman who had just come out of the crowd watching the band.

“Who are they?” You asked after taking a long drink of the cocktail, “I haven’t seen them here before?” You looked over at the group again before realising how perfectly they fit in here in the bar. All were dressed in a variety of fashion, from heavy leather, to chains, to netting. Others donned fancier items with flowing sleeves and long, tailored skirts and trousers. The majority were green in skin tone, but you looked at a few lighter coloured, grey toned orcs with interest as they were from the mountainous regions of the old country.

Pip clicked her tongue, “Muscle heads and trouble, the lot of them.” She took another few drinks before hopping back onto her bar stool and adjusting her net top over her ripped shirt. Around her waist was a thick leather belt, the studs dripping with thin metal chains that hung around her furry hips, “They come to shows like this and usually start fights.” She commented off-handedly.

 With a frown, you looked from her, to the group again, “They just seem to be drinking and watching?” You commented.

Pip snorted a short bleat again, “Yeah, wait until this gig really kicks off, then you’ll see what I mean. Last time I was here with them one of them decided it would be a great idea to upturn tables, and by that, I mean, upturn my drinks over my new dress.” She hissed venomously, “They’re assholes, the lot of them.”

“They don’t look like it…” You uttered as one of the Orcs stood from the group and dragged his friend up with him to get drinks. The rest of them hollered their orders before some of the group split off to join the crowd watching the band.

“Oh great. Here they come!” Pip cheered before moving two seats down and dragging you along with her.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Pip.” Flix commented with a hiss and flutter of his wings, “They’re all lookers, I don’t see why you can’t look past that.” He shrugged his shoulders before smiling at the two male orcs at the bar, “What can I do for you two handsome fellas?” His eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings at them and you snickered at the scent of lilac flowers that drifted from him like a thick perfume.

 “Come on, Flix. Lay off it for one night will ya!” One of the orcs laughed before he elbowed his friend, “This guy’s new here. Don’t go scaring him off already. You lot need our custom.” The orc leaned back and scrubbed at his mohawk, adjusting his heavy cargo trousers. Fabric belts hung between the legs and down them and he wore a heavy half tartan kilt over the top. His face was littered with piercings and you could see why he looked like the sort to be causing problems.

“You know I love you all equally, Xurek.” Flix laughed, “But I was more excited for your lady friend over there. She’s new too huh?”

“Jesus, you never give up! Anyway,” Xurek took the other orc around the neck, “This is Durzub. He’s new in town. Just moved in from out from the sticks. He might look like a foul piece of work, but you’ve met Rakuh, so he’s not as scary.” Xurek laughed before he let the darker skinned orc go. The other male reached up to brush his black hair from his eyes. Most of his long black hair was braided in tight long threads, the braids sequenced with small beads along them with the rest straight and hanging over his shoulder beneath the wide brim of a black hat, emblazoned with a silver trim around the base. He turned, dressed in a black long shirt and coat, the end trailing behind him as he ducked out of Xurek’s grasp, brown eyes angry.

 Durzub snorted and tossed his head, the braids sliding back out of his way over his shoulder before he reached up to move his tangled chains from the ends of his hair, the necklaces hanging with silver teeth, “Will you stop dragging me around like a child, Xurek!” He snorted as he dragged his arm out of Xurek’s grasp and adjusted his hat again before sighing and taking it off, “Any way I could get you to store this behind the bar for me? Its new and these lot have a habit of throwing beer the later it gets.”

Flix fluttered his eyelashes again, “Sure thing, sweetheart.” He took the hat and turned around to hang it near the aprons, “Just grab me before closing and I’ll get it you.”

“Thank you.” Durzub rumbled before pulling his hair back again, tucking the straight length on his left side behind his ear, revealing rings of silver and studs of obsidian, which matched the rings, linked by a chain, on each of his short tusks.

“Don’t be nice to him, Durzub, he’ll eat you alive given the opportunity.” Xurek snickered behind his hand as he flapped his band shirt, trying to cool himself down, “His family ate children back in the day.”

“That was five hundred years ago!” Flix scoffed as he slammed two, pint glasses down on the bar, “So, was it two ales or two lagers?”

“We were thinking mead actually.” Xurek stuck his pierced tongue out before he played with the bar, “And not that piss water Weldrick buys for the goblins!” Flix ignored him and turned for the taps down the other end of the bar.

 Pip scoffed at the exchange, but you found your mouth opening at the sight of the long-haired orc and his scowl. He watched Flix’s wings before he turned away from Xurek’s chattering and pushed his hand over his mouth. You watched the exchange as Xurek stuck his tongue between the other’s fingers and couldn’t help but laugh loudly as Durzub cringed and recoiled.

“You’re fuckin’ disgusting.” Durzub rolled his eye and took a napkin from the holder to wipe the spit from his fingers and the skull rings which sat above his knuckles.

“Mmm, you taste like fresh meat.” Xurek hissed like a comically bad vampire, and you laughed again, but this time louder. It was loud enough that the two orcs looked down the bar to where you and Pip were sat with your cocktail jug.

“Well done! Now we have their attention.” Pip hissed in your ear before she kicked at your chair with one shoed hoof, clanking the metal with a vicious bang.

Xurek’s smile made you regret everything, as you watched his gaze shift from your face to the larger orc stood next to him, “Looks like we have an audience, Durzub.”

 The other male turned slightly on one heel, looking at you both with a raised eyebrow, looking over the two of you perched at the end of the bar, “Don’t mind this freak. He’s got a way of making everyone hate him.”

“Oh, that’s fuckin’ cold!” Xurek hissed at him, “After I introduce you to those bands too!”

Durzub rolled his eyes again as Xurek slinked around him to laze across the bar on one arm, his head propped up on his fist, “Bands which have given me nothing but persistent headaches.”

“Headaches but three magazine features!” Xurek wound his middle finger up before he smiled at the two of you again, “Ignore him. He was castrated at birth.” The statement earned him another gruff noise from Durzub.

“We don’t want your attention, Xurek.” Pip gave him a sardonic smirk, “Not unless you’re replacing those drinks from last time.” She leaned on her own open palm and bared her teeth at him, her hoof clicking against the bar stool.

“You’re a cold bitch, Pip. You know that was an accident.” Xurek whined, “Highlander honour.” He crossed his heart, “Anyway, why don’t I introduce you to my new friend here?” He wrapped his arm around Durzub, making the other spill mead down his fingers as he dragged him over to the two of you, “This is Durzub. He’s a music producer, and part time good looker.”

 “You’re a music producer?” You asked in awe before you turned and looked at the stage, “Are you here for these guys?” You pointed at the industrial band on stage as the lights went low and they started the intro for their next song. At the back here it wasn’t as loud, and you could readily hear the two orcs.

“Yeah. They’re a new signing.” Durzub rolled his shoulders in a shrug, “I never really sign their sort, but it seems like they have a decent following.”

“Come on, mate, we’re here to chill out, not to talk work.” Xurek groaned and laid against the sticky bar top before recoiling in disgust.

“I know, you great oaf.” Durzub placed Xurek’s drink next to him, “Are you both here to see the show?” He asked, his voice slipping from ‘totally pissed off’ into something that was ‘gruff but polite’. Either way, his soft country accent made you smile before you took a few mouthfuls of cocktail for courage.

Pip answered before you could swallow, “We come on a Friday to wind down. The gigs are always just a bonus.”

 She shot a look at you with her dark, goat eyes, warning you from speaking as she steered the conversation, “What about you guys? You here to bother people on their nights off?”

“Well, we know where we ain’t wanted.” Xurek shrugged his shoulders at Pip’s rudeness, “Sorry to harass you, but you don’t have to be a salty asshole about spilt drinks, you know.” He watched Pip’s temper flare and you ducked back as she slammed her hand against the bar top.

“You listen here you little asshole!”

“Little?” Xurek scoffed, “I tower over you, babe.”

Pip gave a bleat of anger before she swept her leg around you and cracked Xurek in the shin, “It was my new dress you ass for brains!” She hissed at him before she stood up to walk around you and face the orc head on.

“What do you want me to say, huh?!” Xurek goaded, “Oh I’m so sorry that my accident ruined something I couldn’t stop. Get over yourself thinking I did it on purpose!” He fumed with anger.

You leaned back before hopping out of your chair, taking the jug of cocktail in one hand and a tall glass in the other before you turned to Durzub, “Hey come on. They’re going to be screeching for a while. Want to go and sit on the balcony and watch?”

 Durzub seemed a little taken back by the offer, “Oh, sure.” He uttered as he pulled Xurek’s drink away from him and then took his own in hand and following you towards the stairs, leading to the viewing area above the pit. You found two stools and a table and happily placed your drinks on it before leaning on the railing to look down at the band as they headbanged together on stage.

Durzub sat awkwardly for a moment before he coughed behind his head, “So, what is it that you do?” He asked as he leaned over the table, eyeing the mixture of liquor and fruit juice in your jug.

You turned from the show and smiled, “Oh nothing as interesting as music production. I just got hired at a new modelling agency.”

“Do you model then?” He asked with wide eyes, “Because you’re certainly…”

“Oh, God no. Nothing like that. I work with brands and secure deals and shoots. I work with Skull Crusher and Tombstone mostly.” You smiled and sipped cocktail through your straw.

Durzub tucked his hair back again with a sweep of his hand, “That explains the look then.” He smiled softly, “Do you get some sweet discounts?” He asked.

“Like you wouldn’t believe. It’s never been cheaper to be a goth!” You cheered as you looked down at the rowdy beginnings of a mosh pit, then back to the bar.

 You gave a great laugh, “Well, looks like their argument is sorted.” You pointed at Xurek with his bruised cheek. He slammed back his drink before storming away into the pit, rushing through a mosh pit before his eyes caught sight of a human among the others. You grinned at his expression. Dumb struck.

“Jesus. I hope they’re ready to be pestered.” Durzub chugged a few mouthfuls of mead before he scoffed, “Whenever he gets that look, he ends up heartbroken a week later.”

“Well, it might be different this time, you know?” You smiled back at Durzub, “Maybe this is the one!” You cooed.

“You’ve got fairy tales in your head and cotton candy to go with it. He’s going to have a one-night stand then not shut up about her for the next three weeks.” Durzub held up three fingers as he drank some more, “Or he’ll relay every little detail to us on our next outing. He has zero filter.”  

“I can tell that much.” You laughed as you shuffled back in your seat, “What about you then, have you met your one?”

“My one?” Durzub scoffed, “Hardly. How old do you think I am?” He leaned on his fist and pointed back at himself, giving you a curious look.

 You felt like this was a trap, “Are you doing this so you can get mad when I guess wrong?” You asked as you pushed the ice around in the glass.

“Hardly. I’m not sensitive.” He grumbled as his painted fingers tapped against the side of the pint glass.

“Hmm, if you say so.” You leaned over the table to squint at his face. You’d worked with a few orcs before, but most were young models, sharp featured and tall, broad in the shoulders. Durzub was the same, though his face had wrinkles in places which would suggest he was far over twenty years old, “Thirty-six.” You decided with a smile.

Durzub let out a low laugh, “Not far off actually. I’m thirty-eight.” He pointed to the stage, “And I used to do that. Played in a band until about five years ago. Started as a producer then. Never looked back.”

“Oh wow. Who did you used to play with?” You asked in awe.

“A gothic rock sort of deal.” He replied before he looked into your pleading eyes, and relented, “Zi Gijak.”

“No way.” You rushed to stand from your seat as you recognised the Orcish name, “Black Blood!?”

 Durzub ducked his head, reaching for where his hat had sat before he realised, he wasn’t wearing it, “Keep your voice down, please.” He begged quietly, “I don’t need people in this place to recognise me.”

“How could they recognise you now? You look nothing like you did back in the day.” You stated before realising what you said sounded rude, “Not that you look bad now it’s just…”

He laughed at your awkwardness, “I know. I ditched the netting and bones a while ago.”

“You didn’t look half bad in it though, even five years ago.” You winked at him with a sudden rush of confidence, “Though I think this outfit suits you just as much.”

Suddenly, it was as though the intimidating exterior melted, and you watched Durzub’s face go flushed with embarrassment, “Thanks. It has been a change.”

Without making him any more embarrassed you changed the subject a little, “So what bands do you produce for now?” You asked.

“Quite a few. I used to work with SIREN before they got huge, but that sort of metal was never something I could do rather well, I thought.” He shrugged, “They’re with a more focused label now.”

“No way…This keeps getting better and better!” You uttered again.

 “Better and better for you. They were a headache and a half for me!” Durzub chuntered into his drink before he swallowed the last bits of it, “I’m glad they’ve moved up. They were good for business.” He smirked over the edge of the pint glass.

“Only thinking of the money.” You tutted playfully, “That’s no way to treat your bands.” You joked.

“Oh no, but that makes me feel better knowing my weekly migraines are worth the agony.” Durzub chuckled as he watched the band on stage, “These guys ain’t half bad for a show though. I think I picked the best from the bucket.”

“They have an interesting ensemble.” You smirked at the leather clad demoness as she slinked along the stage before she growled from her stomach, a crop landing against the hand of a handsy looking fan in the front.

“Interesting but it’s the sort of thing that gets you recognised.” Durzub noted as he watched, “This place is a refuge for all kinds of people. I’m glad Cal has got this place running with Weldrick.”

 “Who’s Cal? I’ve met Weldrick. Giant bright white minotaur, right? Build like a brick shit house with all the piercings?” You recalled.

Durzub nodded, “That’s him. He’s about eight foot tall too. Scariest mother fucker I ever did meet.” He shifted in his seat, “Cal is the co-owner, but he’s not around that often. He’s a vampire, but he’s not people fond.” The orc shrugged before offering you half a smile, “We all used to work together, believe it or not.”

“Wait…” Your mouth dropped open, “I’m actually stupid.”

“Cal was the singer of Black Blood. Weldrick ran our security back in the day.” He laughed at your open mouth before he leaned over to close your mouth with two large fingers. He brushed his fingers over your chin before leaning back and pointing to your drink, “Do you want anything else?”

“I’m okay thanks. I’ll keep your seat warm.” You joked as he stood up with a nod and grumbled about having something better than ‘shitty mead’.

 “I’ve never seen Durzub ever sit and talk with someone in a bar.” A deep, gravelly voice rang out from behind you. You turned around in your chair to see a tall, human looking male watching you, his sunglasses perched on the end of his nose as he regarded you with a mild amount of curiosity from over the lenses. He reached out a hand awkwardly, “Cal.”

“As in…” You took his hand, and flinched at the stone coldness of his grip, “Co-owner of the bar, Cal?”

“The very same.” He shook your hand lightly before his hand disappeared quickly back into his pocket, “I just came to say hello. I was curious. He hates attention in these kinds of places…”

“Just like you then, apparently.” You observed as you turned on your seat to face him. He was a giant man, but stony cold, and overly pale, looking almost grey around his reflective, steel-coloured eyes. They shone red as he turned, the bouncing curls of black hair spilling over his shoulders before he reached for a cigarette packet and cursed, seeing it was empty with only his lighter inside.

 “Cal?” Durzub returned with a large looking ale in his hand, “Weird time to show yourself. Unless you were planning to steal this one for a snack, hmm? As usual.” He scoffed.

“You know I’ve been off the blood for years…” Cal whispered as he rummaged in his other back pocket, before finding a small, slim packet of chewing gum, “I don’t…”

“Yeah. Save it. That’s what you said last time, Clarence.” Durzub huffed into his drink.

Cal’s back went ridged before he stooped over and unfolded the wrapper of his gum, “You don’t get to call me that.” He whispered again, his gravelly tone rumbling in the back of his throat before he slunk away, back into the shadows, and disappeared in a shadowy wave of his black hair.

“Sorry you had to see that.” Durzub rumbled from across the table, “Its…complicated.”

You span back around and smiled, “Don’t worry about it. I think Pip had more of a fight with Xurek.” You snickered as you turned to spy her sat at the bar, batting her eyelashes at Flix as he served, “Though I think she’s okay now. She’s turned her eyes on a certain someone.”

Durzub looked down at the bar and laughed as well, “Well I guess you know her type now.” He joked as he sipped at his ale.

“Yep. Scary pretty boys, who aren’t part of your friends.” You snickered as you sipped at the last of your cocktail and refreshed the glass.

 The band on the stage purred their final song as you took another drink, and you looked at your phone with wide eyes at the time.

“I have to get up tomorrow for errands.” You lamented, looking at the clock. It was almost midnight, and you knew Pip would be here for hours if you left her to her own devices.

“So, this is where the night ends.” Durzub laughed before he finished the last of his own drink, “Here.” He tugged out his phone, “Let me give you my number?”

You nodded and took your phone out to exchange numbers before checking it was working and showing him the message came through okay.

“Thank you for tonight.” You smiled at him, “We should do this again.” You leaned over and carefully placed a kiss on his flushed cheek, “For an grumpy music producer, you’re funny to be around.” You took your bag and looked at Xurek, who was busy pressing a human against the far wall, “And look after Xurek, huh? Looks like he might just get himself into trouble again.” You descended the stairs just as the orcs started cheering for the male and shook your head.

 After speaking to Pip, and confirming she had a taxi to get home, you exited the bar and shivered in the cold, before you felt a warm presence behind you, and a hand catch your own.

“Hey!” Durzub grunted as he caught your hand, “Let me walk you home?” He asked, “No way in hell I’m staying to watch those lot gawk at Xurek strip a human down.” He sneered. His sneer softened as you interlinked your fingers together and squeezed his hand before looping an arm through his own, leaning into his body heat.

“Sure. You can walk me home.” You leaned into his arm again and smiled, “I live three blocks away, so it’s a bit of a short walk.”

“Better to spend time with you.” Durzub whispered before he looked at the night sky, “I’m still sorry about what happened with Cal…”

“Honestly, it never happened, okay?” You patted the orc’s large arm, “We all have our differences and reasons.”

“Still. I was rude.” He huffed before he reached for his hat and tugged at the brim, “I’m glad I got to meet you at least tonight.” You tried to ignore the way he tugged at his bottom lip before he adjusted the decorative chain over his lip and smiled, still a little awkward.

“Me too.” You purred back at him.

 The messages started off polite between the two of you, but it was quickly a regular thing for you both to message back within a minute or two depending on if Durzub was working in the studio or you were in meetings. You were both enamoured. It didn’t take long for you both to meet again, eating together in a restaurant which was a little bit too expensive for you. It was high end, and suited Durzub as he sat there eating, looking intimidating as he ate couscous and chopped vegetables before smiling and blushing with embarrassment as you complimented him and his outfit. For such a giant orc, with a bigger scowl, he was softened whenever you said something nice. Several nights together on dates lead to this one, finally going to his studio to see what he did, and to listen to something he had been working on. Excitement churned in your gut as you looked at the choker around your neck and touched the spikes around its surface before flicking the dog tag and grinning at yourself before you rushed for the door to meet Durzub.

 “Hey!” You shouted at the orc. He was stood out on the pavement, dressed in an old print of a Black Blood shirt with a screaming orc and vampire on the front, blood dripping from both of their mouths. He was dressed in dark jeans, littered with pocket chains and a heavy leather duster to combat the cool breeze. He looked up from beneath his broad rim hat. Instantly, Durzub’s perpetual scowl turned into a small smile, and you took hold of his hand before leaning up to kiss his cheek before placing a soft kiss against his bottom lip. He was always a little slow to catch up, but he returned the kiss with a gentle rub of his tusks to your chin.

“Hey stranger.” He rumbled before he gestured to the building, “My studio is on the sixth floor.”

“This doesn’t look much like a record label building to me.” You hummed as Durzub led you into the reception. A naga waved him on up with you, looking back at her work with a hiss and a grumpy frown.

“Not yet it doesn’t. Wait until we get into the actual building. This is just the polite front for greeting people.” The elevator dinged as he pressed the button and the two of you climbed inside. He pushed the button for the sixth floor and you jittered with anxiety as it moved upwards slowly.

“I’m excited and nervous.” You whispered as the doors opened on floor two and let some more people in.

“Don’t be, baby. You’ll be fine.” Durzub soothed as you continued up.

 The sixth floor was littered with records on the walls, gold, red, black and mixed dyes. You looked along the walls before Durzub tugged you down the carpeted hall. You followed a step or so behind, trying to read the framed records as you toddled behind him, little out of your depth. Durzub’s coat trailed behind him and you moved to not step on it as he stopped at his door. He unlocked it with a click of an electronic card and you watched the black door swing open to reveal the sound room.

“Wow.” You stepped inside in front of him and looked at the expensive sound equipment, keeping your hands to yourself to avoid being told off or ruining anything, “This is some expensive gear.” You grinned at him, “And pretty.” You peered past the soundproof glass to see the guitars and drum kit in the recording box and smiled at the pointed-v design one, knowing it was from when he played with Black Blood.

“I knew you’d spot that one.” Durzub said mildly before he threw his coat over a speaker and collapsed into his large office chair, the leather making him shiver with the cold against his arms, “This is where I spend most of my life, making kids realise that riffs are stupid in the wrong places.” He scoffed before tugging you a chair from the other soundboard and patting it, “Come sit. I have some things to show you.”

 Carefully, you placed your coat on top of Durzub’s before joining him by the large computers, eyeing the two screens as he logged in, squinting at the screen.

“Fuck. Glasses.” He reached into his desk drawer and pulled free a set of circle frame glasses, putting them on before cringing and looking back at you, “Not as young as I used to be…”

“You look cute in them.” You gushed as you scooted the roller chair forwards and made sure to sit as close to him as possible, “Being able to see is important, even if you don’t look as scary with glasses on.” You teased.

“Yeah…” He let the words drop off as he found what he was looking for and pulled free two sets of expensive headphones. Durzub leaned over and gently tucked them over your ears, holding them and holding up an ‘okay’ sign before he donned his own and pressed play. He leaned back in his chair and you sat impatiently before the noise of a gentle synth graced your ears, opening with a gentle melody before a guitar followed the same rhythm before chugging to life with slow riffs. It was gentle somehow still as the guitar started on a slowly moving rhythm along into the beginnings of a verse, sung by a vocalist you recognised as Durzub. The lyrics lilted about roses on a hill, growing in a graveyard around a forgotten tombstone before you grinned at the references to old vampire movies that the two of you enjoyed. The chorus was met with a litany of soft guitar and synth before a drum solo full of soft cymbal carried on. It was something made for the two of you, and you wondered just how long Durzub had spent making this song. Looking at the poorly hidden bags under his eyes, you figured it had been most nights after work.

 In the closing synth of the son, you laid your head against Durzub’s arm, against the tattoo of the roses around the gravestone. You pressed your lips to his skin gently before smiling and tugging the headphones down to around your neck, smiling up at the orc. Durzub copied the motion with another small smile, reaching to stroke at the top of your head

“That was beautiful. It’s hard to believe you made that just for me.” You whispered against his warm skin as the orc flushed with embarrassment, “Did you mean the part about making love on graves?” You teased gently before you slipped from your own chair, and into his lap, your fingers sliding up over the tattoos on his arms, tracing the thorns of the roses down before you traced the edge of the stem curling over his collar bone.

“Maybe not. Stone gives you a bad back.” He rumbled as his pupils went wide, watching your fingers as they slipped under the collar of his t-shirt, “But I would worship you just the same.” His hands moved from the computer to your hips, his fingers pressing into the meat of your backside before he leaned forwards to kiss you. You gladly accepted the advance, kissing the orc back, your tongue licking at his lips before you traced the rings around his tusks and wrapped your arms tighter around his neck.

 A soft moan escaped Durzub’s mouth as you pulled away. His lips were puffy and you leaned forwards to bite his lip, enjoying the second croak that escaped him as you leaned back on his thighs.

“What about this desk?” You asked under your breath.

Durzub grumbled, “There’s a lot of…” Your hand meeting his crotch shorted his brain for a moment, “I can make room.” He grumbled before he pushed the keyboard and monitor aside, leaving the desk free for you both. You laid back over the wood and grinned as you tugged on one of his tusks, forcing his face down so you could lay another kiss on his lips. Durzub moaned again as you reached up into his dark hair, tugging the braids at his scalp.

“Maybe you should make good on your song lyrics.” You purred as you kissed his cheeks and then bit at his neck before sucking a mark under his ear.

“Fuck.” Durzub hissed before he leaned over you, his fingers tugging at your clothes before he admired the collar around your neck and gave it a tug, “I hope you didn’t have any other plans.”

 Neither of you saw the audio recording button flashing red.

 ‘Everything was recorded. I’m keeping it. See you at the bar. x’

[simpingfortheages]

//COME STAY HERE WITH ME//

Sally Mckenna x fem reader

(SUSPENSE, FLUFF if you squint, ANGST, has a twist )

Promises aren't words without meaning. They leave a mark on your soul you need to fulfill.

The reader just isn't ready to make such a big commitment. Sally doesn't approve or believe her and she is determined to change that.

~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~

"Sally I love you of course I do. I will come back soon, i promise but you seriously cannot expect me to stay here forever" I argued with her as I hurriedly pack my carryon with unfolded clothes. Sally sat silently on the bed dwelling in her own thoughts. I could feel her sharp eyes bore into the back of my head as i maneuvered my way around the small room collecting my things. She didn't speak after i made that statement, no she just looked upon my sloppy movements .

The atmosphere in the room was stifling, the air was stale of sex and cigarette smoke. I was choking on the suspense of what Sally was going to do. I know she would never kill me, she promised me that. I was almost done packing when I turned around,only to meet her towering figure standing right behind me. She was a hair's width away. " I really wished you'd stay" she said in raspy low octave . There was not a door or window open to let a draft in, that was because it was her voice that sent shivers running and prickling along my spine. " I will come back to you very soon. I promise Sally" I replied to her, with a lack of commitment in my voice. Sally has managed to keep me stuck in the Cotez for 4 months. My family misses me, my job , my house was all waiting for me at home. I love Sally I really do, but I just wasn't ready. Sally slowed squinted her eyes at my response as though she was analyising each piece of word that left my mouth. I gave her a nervous side smile before I bent down to zip up my carryon. As I gathered my bag I made my way hesitantly toward the door. I felt as though Sally could read my mind. She may be a ghost but she doesn't have the special ability to read minds.

The humidity and tension in the room,caused beads to sweat to form and roll down the side of my face, the sticky and disgusting feeling of my shirt sticking to my armpits and my back didn't make my situation any easier. I squeezed my eyes tightly to try and get rid of the on coming headache, my stomach was churning. It was getting hard to breathe at this point. I gripped the copper handle of the hotel door and slowed turned it to make my way out of the room. *SLAM* the door was shut. I blinked a few times to understand what just happened. I looked at the door only to see a black chipped nail polished hand pressing firmly against it. My suspicions were confirmed. It was Sally who shut the door. The coldness from her close proximity radiated off her ghost form, but the breathe I felt on the nape of my neck was warm and inviting. Sally was really close. I didn't even realised my breathe was held, I was making myself feel faint just by her being close to me. I didn't have to turn around and face Sally since she was already leaning over my fraile form . She moved herself closer to place her red messy lipstick lips near my right ear. " You really didn't think I'd let you leave..." Sally began whispering in my ear. I didn't let her finish her sentence, she was cut off from the loud release of shakey breathe I was previously holding. Fuck! Sally was going to kill me right here and now I thought. Her soft frizzy hair was brushing my sweaty hot face, but the way my body was reacting didn't affect her. Sally wouldn't care if i were covered in blood so why would sweat deter her. She was nuzzling her face into the crook of my neck, without thinking I closed my eyes and leaned into her. The gentle kisses that she left upon my neck each sent small electrical pulses down to my stomach. She knew what she was doing. " like I was saying y/n,you really didn't think I'd let you leave....without your phone?" She said in a teasing manner as she pushed the device into my hands. Sally angled her head even closer to the side of my face , my facial expression was one of relief. However my heart still said otherwise, the rapid palpitation of each beat could have been heard if not for the muffled sound of traffic on the streets outside. It took me a while to find my words of gratitude, but Sally was patient. She continued to stare and admire the every twitch and subtle movement my face made. I couldn't bring myself to meet her hopeful eyes. Her eyes held a wanting future with me at the Cortez, she spoke many time how the least painful way to kill me was like Overdose with the use of her white China...but I didn't want any of that. I love Sally. Just not to death. Her body was now pressed against me, it was not one of a sexual manner just one to give the feeling that I was her prey and she was the predator.

Sally does scare me. No one knows the extent that she will go to keep something or someone she wants, there's no real way to stop a ghost such as herself. I forced myself to mumble a thank you, which would have gone unnoticed if it weren't for her face being so close to mine. Sally only replied with a soft pur, she really knew what she was doing because my toes curled at the erotic sound the woman made . We stayed in this position for a couple more seconds but not before Sally moved closer to my neck and licked a wet strip along the side of it. A pathetic whimper ripped it's way from my throath into the still air of the room. She swiftly removed her palm from the door allowing me to leave. My body was flustered and longed for more contact with Sally. She has me wrapped around her finger and boy did she know that. I wasn't going to throw myself into her arms, this time I am committed to leaving the Cotez. As I opened the door to exit, the warm air from the hallway came rushing in to mix with the cold air that was created inside the room. I turned around to wish Sally goodbye....but she was gone. I couldn't feel her presence anymore in the room. Maybe she was else where. The walk to the elevator was a long one, I tried to look down each corridor to see if she was lingering near by. No luck.

Did she not miss me? Will she move onto someone else?. As the elevator doors opened my thoughts were interuppted. The lobby was empty, no Liz and Iris arguing. The help desk just sat there in silence. I fumbled with my bags waking towards the exit. A feeling of unwanted and doubt returned in my stomach. Was this the right choice? I have already made it this far. I have been trying to leave the Hotel for the past 2 weeks. I furrowed my eyebrows at the thought of me succumbing to my weakness . No. I am going to leave. I will return to visit Sally, of course I will, but I just couldn't stay here forever. I took a deep breath, the cold icey air filled my lungs giving me a new sense of confidence. I marched my way towards the exit, taking one last look at the place I called me home for the past months.

I was almost to the door when i felt a sudden drop in temperature. The hairs at the back of my neck was now alert. The silence was in room was filed with Crying??? I turned my heels and saw her standing in the middle of the lobby with black tears running down her porcelain face. My heart broke at the sight. "YOU'RE REALLY LEAVING ME??" Sally screamed into the quietness of.the lobby. I visibly flinched at the level her voice raised, I opened my mouth and basically explained to Sally that it was only going to be for a while and that I would return to the Cortez and that I do love her. Her face that was once filled with hurt and anger was slowly replaced with confusion but slight understanding. The pout her bottom lip did and the way her brown doe eyes looked at me, made me drop my carryon. I

impulsively ran towards Sally and enveloped my arms around her. She immediately returned the hug, while I nudged my face into her chest as she rested her head upon my head. Sally felt like home but there was still so much for me to do outside the Hotel.

Her embrace was like poison to me yet it was the antidote at the same time. Time seemed to not exist at this exact moment. I felt Sally turn her head and rest her cheek on the top of my head trying to get as close to me as possible. Even though almost every night for 4 months we cuddled like this, I will never get enough of it. However, I really needed to get going, I loosened my grip around her waist in hopes of her understanding to let go, but she remained hugged me in her arms. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, " Sally baby let go" I requested, my voice was still kind of muffled since my face was basically pressed against the material of her dress. Sally silence my request with an elongated shush, as she increased the hold she had around my body. It was getting hard to even breathe, Sally was basically smothering me . I wedged my hands between our bodies and pressed the heels of my palm into her chest . Trying to push myself away with everything I have to break free of her deadly hold. At this point the only think that filled my nose and lungs were the cheap perfume Sally wore that her victim's brought with them to the Hotel. "SALLY WHAT THE FUCK LET GO" I screamed. I wiggled and started to hyperventilate still fighting her. Sally didn't budge. "GOD SALLY WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WIT-" ....no....she wouldn't . She said she wouldn't. My mind was going haywire at the thought. I stopped fighting against her and let my arms drop to the side. What the fuck??? There it was again. A sharp burning sensation in my back. It was hurting to breathe at this point. The pain was unbareable, sounds of agony and pain escaped my throath as hot tears cascaded down my face. The combination of the pain in my back and the difficulty to breathe was too much for me. Sally's grip around me was now loose enough for me to shove her off and step back. I felt weak, my knees buckled and gave out, I fell to the floor landing on my knees. The new angle allowed me to get a good view of Sally. She was smiling with joy, tear of happiness running down her face. The bitch welded a fucking kitchen kife covered in crimson blood,not just any blood. It was my blood .Sally Mckenna stabbed me in my back . My lover was planning on killing me. The wounds she created started poured a bloody waterfall down my back and onto the floor.

Sally smiled even bigger at the sight, she had this glint of something in her eyes. I couldn't tell what it was but my blood or whatever was still left in me began to boil. I hated Sally so much right now. There's no way in hell am I going to die in this fucking Hotel and be stuck here with her for all eternity. I gritted my teeth in pain and forced myself to push Sally onto the ground. It may not have been much but she fell back on the carpeted floor. This gave me time to turn on my knees and crawl towards to exit of the Cotez,to make quicker haste of my actions, I dropped down flat onto my stomach and tired to army crawl my way out of here. I craned my head backwards to see where Sally was but she was already back on her feet, the look of anger and annoyance was casted upon her face. I never stopped crawling away from her, the carpet that decorated the floor was now covered in a trail of my blood, my elbows were getting carpet burn but i didn't care. I heard the movements of Sally shifting behind me,she could have stopped me a long time now,but she just wanted to stand there and look down at me. It was sick. Her heel clicks were muffled into the floor, as they got closer. I screamed for help non stop, she didn't like that I was getting closer to the door. Sally grabbed me by my ankles pulling me away from my freedom. I tried to kick her away but my body was too weak. My nails were breaking and bleeding as I scratch along the carpet trying to grab hold of anything. I cried out in pain but Sally didn't care, " oh baby no come stay here with me" she cooed trying to calm me down. She managed to drag me away from the door. I knew if I even escaped her hold I wouldn't make the distance. So I cried, the adrenaline that was coarsing through my blood was now decreasing. My heart beat was soft and my eye lids were heavy. Sally parted her legs and pulled me flush against her chest. My back wounds made rough contact with her but I was too weak to even hiss. She was cruel, Sally sat me in such a way that I had clear view of the door.

I could see it, the sun shining down on all the people who walked the streets, the cars the hurriedly drove pass the Hotel . I detested the sight. I could have been one of those people who went about living their life. I was no longer crying, the tear tracks on my face were fresh but no more followed. Sally repated kissed the side of my temple whispering silent I love you's. I zoned her out at this point. If i was going to die in the Cortez that doesn't mean I have to interact with her. I hate you Sally. I hate you. "Y/N?" Sally spoke, breaking my silent brooding. I didn't acknowledge her but she knew she had my attention. " I'm going to speed up the process, so we can be together even faster" I ignored her, there was nothing more i could do. Sally gripped the knife that was covered in my blood and quickly slashed it across my neck. My eyes went wide. All i saw was red. My lungs quickly filled with my own blood, the only taste that painted my tongue was metallic. I cried for help but blood gushed its way out instead. My body began to feel prickly and cold. So this is how it felt to die. My vision became blurred, the doorway of the hotel was now unrecognizable. " close your eyes baby I am here...I will be here went you are awake" Sally whispered into my ears as she held me tighter. I complied, I closed my eyes and felt all the warmth slowly leave my body. This is how I died. I died by the hands and embrace of my so called ghost lover.

~~~~~~~time skip ~~~~~~~

I groaned as I stirred awake, I couldn't see properly but I could feel a weight on my chest,but it wasn't uncomfortable. I needed to blink a couple of times to clear my vision. I knew I was back in the Hotel but where was I exactly ? Apparently my shifting cause the weight on my chest to be lifted. I looked down and saw that it was Sally who was resting on me. My vision was still a little blurry, but i could have seen that she was smiling at me with her red bottom lip tuck away under her teeth. I tried to move but Sally moved her hand that was resting on my thigh and pressed it against my bare chest,shoving me back down onto the mattress. It dawned on me that I was completely naked,expect for the fact that I was wearing her leopard print coat. She saw the perplexed look on my face and answered the question in my head. "Your clothes were bloody, so I showered and wrapped you up in my coat.". I looked around and now realised that we back in her apartment. Room 64. I had so many questions, I wanted to yell at her but when I opened my mouth, all that came out was a soft "why?..." She looked at me with admiration and love. Her hands were wondering all over my naked body, ghosting over all my moles and scars. " You were going to break your promise, I just made sure you fulfilled it." She said in a matter of fact tone.

Sally punctuated the sentence with a kiss upon my chest. "You stabbed me and slit my throath why that way?" I further questioned the ghost. " You needed to hurt Y/N like how you hurt me , but it's all okay now because we are the same and we have each other" Sally justified . She moved to straddle me and cup my face as she recited the statement. Her forehead was now pressed against mine, and I could have felt the warmth of her breathe brushing across my face. Sally kissed me, but the kiss was not one of love ,it was one of fulfillment. She got what she wanted. Sally slipped her tongue pass my lips to deepened the kiss, I could hear the change in her breathing. It was loud and heavy. She was created a heated kiss, but I couldn't allow that to happen right now.

So i took my hands to shove her off of me.*CLINK* what the fuck??? I cut off Sally's kiss to turn my head and see what was the reason for the sound . My right hand was handcuffed to the bed. Sally looked down at my chest smirking as she rubbed her hands up and down from my chest up to my neck. She was ignoring the look of concern that was painted on my face. "Sally what the fuck??? Uncuff me" I demanded. All she did was laugh at my words. Sally crawled further up my body and played with the curls of my hair with her index finger. " no" was all she said. "What do you mean no??" I raged. Her patience was running thin now, her smile transformed into a scowl. Her hands gripped and dug into my jaw, " You are dead so that means you don't need food,you don't need sleep, you no longer need the requirements of the living."she spat her words out like it was venom. "You think I don't know you baby?"She continued, tilting her head to the side. Her eyes shifted from between my lips and my eyes every few seconds. " You cannot escape me and I am not going to let you avoid me" she finished. I was scrambling for words," wha-i but- sally you cannot keep me chained here" my voice was lowered this time, I spoke softly trying to get on her good side." I know baby but when you come back to me and understand that what i did was for us, I will uncuff you." Sally kissed my forehead and returned to her previous position of lying down on top of me. Her head was resting on my heart ,but I doubt she would be able to hear a beat. Silence surrounded the both of us, I tilted my head backwards hitting the bedrest with a soft thud. I accepted that this was now my faith and my future. My eyes were glued to the ceiling, taking in the smallest details, eventually focusing on the small cobweb being built in the corner. Sally whispered softly into the peaceful silence " y/n my love next time you should remember that promises are not just words spoken."

[onmykneesforhotdilfs]

Oooh i'm gonna with #3 please! And Valtor as a bartender.

He truly loathed his job.

The disgusting smell of cheap drinks spilled on the bar mixed with the stench of sweat and cheap perfume, from grinding bodies on the dancefloor and humping barely-legals in the corner, made him nauseous. The music was loud to the point his heartbeat developed arrhythmia whenever a bass boosted song played through the obnoxious sound system. To make matters worse, one of the speakers was set directly above the bar and Valtor was sick of buying earplugs every week, because if he didn’t use any protection, he’s pretty sure he would go deaf before he hit 40 and he once again cursed himself for forgetting them at home.

A particularly high note came on, and the crowd cheered while Valtor cringed as he felt the microscopic hairs in his ears, sensitive to high notes, shrivel up and die. He rolled his eyes as he spotted a tall blonde dragging taller brunette towards the restroom. Apparently, couples basically dry humping each other on the dancefloor and sucking their faces off in the corners wasn’t enough, so universe also decided to throw in a couple about to commit an indecent act in a public bathroom?

He was just about to call one of the bouncers when it hit him – he doesn’t care. Oh well. What can you do?

A woman, wearing something Valtor could only describe as lingerie, came to the bar and ordered a fruity cocktail and for the umpteenth time, he wondered how his life turned into this? How did he go from graduating on a prestigious college, having a stable job and a fiancée, to wiping down spit from the counter top on a Saturday night.

He used to be a successful attorney, his yearly salary reaching up to five-zero figure, a stable relationships, loving girlfriend and more, and yet, all of that collapsed under the enormous weight couple of words held.

His hands worked on autopilot, mixing the necessary drinks while his thoughts were miles away.

Now, whatever’s left of his past life lives in a small condo across the town and Valtor chuckled at the irony of life giving him lemons while he chopped one to mix it into the cocktail. He squeezed the juice out of the poor fruit, with probably more force than was necessary, getting some of it on his shirt in the process.

“What are you chuckling about?” The woman was leaning over the counter, her chest basically spilling out of her dress as she played with the ends of her dark hair.

Valtor raised an eyebrow as he bent down to retrieve one of the decorative umbrellas. “Nothing that would be of interest to you.” He saw her flinch in surprise at the rather sharp tone he unintentionally used. “Miss.” He added as an afterthought, hoping it would make him look less abrasive. Unhappy customers don’t tip well after all.

“Oh. Well maybe it does interest me. You’ll never know unless you try.” The woman smiled flirtatiously while her fingers continued twirling the strands of her hair. “I’m Mitzi, by the way.” She offered her hand to him.

Valtor only quirked an unamused eyebrow. “I don’t remember asking for your name.” The smile was quick to disappear from her face and she snatched her hand back like it’s been burned.

He closed his eyes as his tongue, once again, proved to be faster than his brain. It’s what got him into trouble a lot of times and this one might’ve just taken a cake because if the girl went to complain to his boss, he’d be in a world of shit. “I was trying to be nice, but it seems to me you’re too much of an asshole to appreciate it.” Mitzi gritted out with obvious false confidence because a fierce blush was very much present on her face. This obviously didn’t happen to her a lot.

First time for everything, Valtor thought.

“What I would really appreciate, Mitzi,” Don’t do it, “is if you could stop your 36C's, that you stuffed into a 34B bra, from spilling all over my counter.” You absolute moron! “I have to wipe it.”

Now you’ve done it.

Mitzi turned even reader, and Valtor wondered if he should start dialing an ambulance just in case, but she only snatched the drink he placed in front of her and threw a 5$ bill in his face. “Jerk!” And just like that, she was gone.

“Have a nice evening!” Drop dead.

He rolled his eyes and took a glass that needed wiping just to occupy his hands for a minute because he felt like a coiled string, just about to snap and burn everything in its path.

“I have to say,” girl’s voice reached him, “you just fixed my evening.” Valtor lowered the glass to the solid surface and turned to face the owner.

His brain short circuited.

Though her body was mostly obstructed by the counter, he could see that the navy blue slip dress she wore draped beautifully across her slender figure. She was also incredibly short that even standing up straight, in what Valtor assumed were ridiculously high heels, she was at least head and a half shorten than him. But the most obvious, and striking thing about her, was her red hair. Valtor never even thought that hair could be as vibrant as hers.

In his almost 35 years of life, Valtor has never seen someone as interesting as the girl standing in front of him.

When he finally shook himself out of his stupor, and when it became painfully obvious he was making her uncomfortable with his gawking (really, there was no other word for it), he smiled and spoke. “Well, I’m pleased to hear that because it will undoubtedly ruin my life.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about her reporting you.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Her ego is too big for her to accept she just got rejected.”

“You know her?”

There was something nostalgic in her smile. “I used to know her… or maybe I just thought I know her.”

Valtor observed the unusual girl in front of him. In his several years as a bartender and even before, he developed quite a knack for reading people. She seemed, to him at least, like one of those lost souls that recently had their world turned upside down but tried despite to appear normal. You and me both. “Would you like something to drink?”

Her head snapped up and her electric blue eyes met his. “Oh! Yes, um,” she fidgeted slightly, her hands wringing together and picking at her nails, “anything with vodka.”

He nodded and turned his back on her to find a bottle of the best vodka the club had to offer. He didn’t know why he suddenly paid so much attention to what he’s mixing into drinks but something pulled him towards this girl like gravity and he was too weak to resist it. “Straight?” He asked without turning around.

“Ummm, that’s a bit personal don’t you think? I mean, I just met you.” Valtor stopped what he was doing and turned his head so she could see the confused frown on his face. “I don’t even know your name. As far as I know you could be a serial killer.”

It downed on Valtor what she was talking about and he chuckled at her adorable rant. “I meant the Vodka.”

Her lips shaped into a silent “O" and he saw how her neck and face turned red from embarrassed. She moaned and buried her face into her hands. “Oh God, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He picked the bottle and turned back around so he was facing her. He extended his unoccupied hand across the counter top. “I’m Valtor.”

She shook his hand, her hand incredibly small in his huge one, blush still present on her cheeks. “Bloom. And yes, straight vodka is fine.”

“I’ve only seen Russians drink vodka by itself.”

“I’m quarter Russian. My mom’s dad is from Russia.” Valtor nodded along as he fixed her a drink.

“Impressive.”

“it’s really not. It only made me the laughing stock of the entire class.” She took the glass filled with clear liquid, their fingers brushing together on accident, and Valtor felt a spark rushing up his nerve endings. “But, I can drink most people under the table so I guess I should be grateful.”

Humor was obviously one of the things she used to deflect the pain and trauma bullying inevitably caused. “Your hair is very… unusual. Natural?”

She nodded. “Yup. This is one of the things I inherited from grandpa.”

“Sorry if that made you uncomfortable, it wasn’t my intention.”

“No no, don’t worry.” Her lips wrapped around the edge of the glass as she took a sip and closed her eyes to savor the feeling of burning liquid sliding down her throat. “It’s actually one of the nicest things someone has said to me about my hair.”

Valtor looked at her with a small smirk on his face. “That bad, huh?”

“You don’t want to know.” Bloom tilted the glass and took a large swing of the drink, only a small amount remaining at the bottom. “What about you?”

Valtor shrugged. “What about me?”

“You have an unusual hair too.”

Indeed. His long strawberry blond hair was tied in a ponytail, but unlike herself, he loved his hair and didn’t particularly give a damn what anybody else thought about it. “I don’t really care about somebody else’s opinion and neither should you.”

“I’ve stopped that long time ago.” Valtor nodded towards her almost empty glass and she slid it towards him for a refill. “But you know, scars remain.”

He nodded. “That I do know.” Valtor saw another guy coming up to the bar so he excused himself. As soon as he moved away from her, the unpleasant sensations that accompany prolonged presence in a loud room came rushing back like a rogue train and Valtor felt the onsets of a headache forming. He served the guy and returned to Bloom who was now nursing her drink instead of knocking it back like the first time.

“So what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

She quirked one eyebrow. “A girl like me?”

“Not to be rude, but this doesn’t seem like your cup of tea.”

She laughed. “It’s my friend’s birthday. She dragged me here against my will while promising she’ll stay with me the entire time. It took me turning around for her to vanish without a trace with her boyfriend.”

“That friend of yours,” he started, “wouldn’t happen to be a tall blonde dragging a brunette with her?”

“That’s her.”

Valtor made a face. “I don’t think you’ll be seeing a lot of her tonight.” His eyes slid to the direction of the restroom.

Bloom followed his gaze and she groaned when she saw where her friend went to. “Not this again.”

“Again? This happens a lot?”

“Unfortunately, it happens more than I would like to.” She rubbed her forehead.

“Right,” he drawled, “because who doesn’t like seeing their friends going at it.” Sarcasm was dripping from his words.

“How long have they been in there?” She asked while looking at her wrist watch.

“Fifteen minutes or so.”

“Damn animals. I’m never coming to the club with her again.”

An amused chuckle escaped him. “That’s not the first time you’ve said that, am I right?”

She smiled and took a sip of vodka. “Nope.”

Just as he opened his mouth to ask her another question, her blonde friend wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Valtor’s eyebrow did a backflip. How she managed to avoid detection while leaving the bathroom was beyond him.

“Damn Bloom, I leave you alone for five minutes and you’re already seducing hot bartenders!”

“Stella! First of all, I am not seducing anybody,” Maybe not intentionally, “secondly, it’s been almost twenty minutes and thirdly, what happened to your promise of not ditching me? And the moment I turn around, you’re already gone?”

Stella, if Valtor heeard correctly, giggled. “Oh live a little Bloom. Besides, it’s not like you were in a bad company.” Her eyes ran over Valtor’s form. “In fact, I wouldn’t mind taking a bite out of that.” She ogled Valtor like a piece of chocolate cake.

“I’m standing right here.”

“Okay, that’s enough for today! We’re going home.” Bloom grabbed her purse and was about to pull out her wallet when Valtor raised his arm to stop her.

“It’s on the house.”

“But Blooooom,” There was really no words to describe the sound that exited blonde’s mouth, “we just got here.”

“The fact that you're talking about having a threesome with a stranger says enough about your state.”

“I’m pretty sure Brandon wouldn’t mind.”

“Okay, time out. Let’s go.” She turned towards Valtor, a small card between her fingers. She leaned over the counter while one of her arms stayed behind, supporting her friend. “Thank you.” She slipped the card into his hand. “Call me if you wanna talk sometimes.” And with that, she spun on her heel and dragged Stella towards the exit.

Valtor stood in shock, not knowing how to react for a few minutes, staring at the business card in his hands.

Bloom Peters MD.

He shook his head, hand safely pocketing the precious cargo before he picked up the glass she’s been drinking from and turning around to wash it. The sound of retching caused him to turn around in time to see some wasted man empty the content of his stomach on an obnoxious red carpet. The stench of vomit mixed with other delightful aromas and Valtor was once again reminded how much he hated his job.

[isis-astarte-diana]

strings to pull

Prompt: @thefourthdoctorsscarf​ wanted psychic link sex, with 49: “You’re going to come untouched, do you understand?”

Warnings: NSFW. Mind control, I guess. Is squirting a warning? Anyway, there’s a bit of that. It’s all very soft and enthusiastically consensual, just... for a change.

Word Count: 1564

NB: Yeah, I threw in some soft!domme!Missy and a needlessly painful psychic link, because... because I can, and you can’t stop me. also because this is very targeted

With your face buried in the crook of Missy’s neck, every breath is laced with her perfume. She cups the back of your head, her fingernails carving slow spirals under your hair, easing you through the final aftershocks of pain while they pulse through your temples. Her other hand works across your back, tracing the curves of shoulder blade and spine.

“Feeling better?” The question comes with a soft kiss to the side of your head and you nod against her shoulder, relaxing your death grip on her blouse. With gentle pressure at your nape she coaxes you back from your hiding place. Her fingers are cool and deft, stroking the hair away from your forehead, following the line of your jaw until they can curl beneath your chin and tilt your face to hers. One side of her mouth quirks upwards. “No more pain?”

The newly formed telepathic link throbs faintly behind your eyes, not quite a headache, not quite a high. You can feel Missy unfurling at the base of your skull.  She trickles down your spine, a wave of warm affection lapping at you from within even as her thumb sweeps the tears from your cheek. You smile back at her, a little dazed, and echo, “no more pain.”

“Good.” She presses her lips to your forehead, the tip of your nose, the damp skin of your cheek, leaving sticky pink marks behind her. The first kiss to your mouth is gentle. The second is less so, her tongue ticklish on your bottom lip. The third comes deep enough to steal a gasp from your throat, and she swallows it eagerly, her satisfaction pooling hot and fluid in your abdomen. You shift in her lap and breathe in the hum of her laughter.

My lovely girl.

Felt, more than heard, the words seem to come through the nape of your neck, a low reverberation that makes you shiver. She continues to run her fingers along the length of your spine, her nails etching red lines into your skin for her to tease later. It stings, just a bit. You’d quite like her to do it harder.

No sooner has the thought crossed your mind than your right shoulder comes alive with scalding pain. Five narrow stripes of heat appear in the wake of Missy’s hooked fingers and thumb, and you jerk in her arms, breaking the kiss with a cry. She smirks.

“Hard enough for you?” She arches a brow, but her fingertips stroke over the raised scratches, blunting the sting into a tingling warmth. You flush with embarrassment.

“I forget, sometimes,” you admit, relaxing under her touch. “That you can hear me like this.”

“Oh, poppet.” There’s a bright glimmer of mischief in her eyes, and her smile broadens, revealing teeth sharp enough to match it. She nuzzles at your nose. “I can do so much more than hear you.”

A sudden jolt of sensation through your breast takes you by surprise. You start, gasping, and Missy titters. Her arms tighten around you as the feeling comes again, stronger now, a spark of abrupt pleasure like the blunt edge of a thumbnail flicking across your nipple. It’s nothing particularly alarming, save for the fact that your bra remains fastened and both of her hands are still behind your back.

“Was that-?” The question dies in your throat, fading into a whimper when both nipples, this time, throb with twitching sensitivity. “Is that you?”

“Is what me?” She flutters her lashes and it happens again. Your breath hitches, hips rocking of their own accord, your grip tightening once more on the cotton of her blouse. Another flicker, and you whine indignantly. “Oh! That.” She pouts, all false modesty. “Well, yes, I have to admit, that was me.”

“How?” Again, and your voice comes as an awed and breathless laugh. “How are you doing that?”

Missy grins. She traces one of the scratches on your back with her fingernail, reigniting the burn there until you twitch away. “Really rather well, if I do say so myself.”

The next phantom touch rips a cry from your chest with such violence that your jaw falls slack. Whatever she’s doing, her focus is shifting; no longer limiting herself to teasing your breasts, you feel this pulse of sensation as acutely as if she’d run her finger through the seam of your labia to tap directly on your clitoris. Undone by the shock, you turn your face away, breathing hard.

“Ah, ah,” Missy chides, and turns your head back with a firm hand under your chin. Her face is bright with impish amusement. “Look at mummy.”

The words alone are powerful, but they come punctuated by another beat of pleasure, and you mewl pitifully. Once more, you roll your hips, seeking out friction from her thighs underneath you, finding very little. You’re throbbing, now, with desperation so deep that you’ve repositioned yourself before you even notice it. One arm is slung around her shoulders for support, freeing up your other hand to slip through the space between your bodies and make tangible the feelings she has you slave to.

In fact, you don’t realise you’re doing this until Missy catches your stray hand in hers.

“None of that,” she says, playfully, but you recognise a reprimand when you’re given one. She laces her fingers through yours. “You’re going to come untouched, dear.”

Another pulse, and your thighs twitch with the force of it, and your answering whine threatens to bring frustrated tears. You squeeze her hand, harder than strictly necessary, and fix her with pleading eyes. “I don’t know if I can,” you confess, voice trembling. She tuts.

“Yes, you can.” As if to prove her point, she plucks at your nerves again, pleasure thrumming in your breasts and your clitoris and clenching like a fist in your abdomen. She leans in to nip at the edge of your quivering jaw, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Let me show off, hmm? Just a wee bit.”

You might have answered, but the feeling comes twice more in quick succession, first stealing your breath and then making your whole body stiffen in her arms. The effortless building of an orgasm at the base of your spine is familiar enough; as is the way she resumes her careful irritation of the scratch marks on your back, teasing hot and cold pain from them. The only thing foreign to you is being pushed higher without her mouth or hand to rut against, leaving you riding the vacant space between her thighs and yours. You find yourself glad of the grounding hand in your own, squeezing rhythmically whenever another rush of sensation drags you under.

“I can feel you getting closer,” Missy whispers, her mouth close enough at your ear to make you shiver. “Shall we make it a good one, my dear?”

Before you have time to wonder what she means, the next wave hits you, deeper and sharper than the ones before. You twist in her embrace, yelping, caught off guard by the intensity. In the absence of touch you can feel the pulse of blood through your clitoris, the staccato twitch of muscle in your cunt. Every breath is a strained whimper.

“You’re shaking,” she observes, and scrapes a sore spot on your shoulder with her fingernail. Hanging over the edge by a thread like this, the sting sends light bursting behind your eyes. She hushes your cry. “Such a pretty thing. I could keep you like this for hours.”

“No!” It’s louder and harsher than you mean it to be, tears biting in your eyes at the thought. “Don’t, don’t, please, just-” 

Missy laughs, but she squeezes your hand gently. “Perhaps another time, hmm? For now,” and she pulls back a little, enough that she can meet your eyes. Her lips curl into something between snarl and simper. “I want to see you come apart.”

She bares her teeth; the thread snaps; you shatter like so much glass.

The climax comes deep, right in your brainstem, a shock to every nerve. Your voice breaks on a sobbing squeal. Your fingers lock vice-tight around hers, muscle bound on clenching muscle, the pulsing pressure of your orgasm untethered to any physical touch. Something bursts in the very depths of you. Your thighs are flooded, heat soaking through your underwear, no doubt staining the dark wool of Missy’s skirt. She coos with pleasure and presses a kiss to the corner of your panting mouth.

“Good girl,” she praises. Her fingertips soothe the inflamed ridges on your shoulder, and she stretches out languidly in the back of your mind, echoing again, good girl. You curl tighter into her chest. “Didn’t you make a lovely mess for me?”

Your face flushes at the words, and you shudder through another aftershock. The wet fabric of your knickers is cooling rapidly in the air. “I didn’t mean to,” you whisper into her blouse.

Missy hums. She guides your hand down between your legs, pressing your palm to the drenched cotton. You’re still sensitive, though not as raw as you would be if she’d touched you, and the pressure makes you twitch.

“I meant to.” She draws a fingernail over the material, teasing your flesh with it. “Let’s get you out of these wet things, and see if you can do it again.”

[starneko123]

Butterfly Effect

Star's Note: So I finally got around to putting my main OC in the MK 2021 movie storyline and the first part is like a...songfic? Yeah so prepare for that and also Korë Nagako X Liu Kang is a crack ship, in general, please don't take it seriously lol.

OC Characters Involved

Nova Nagako

Mileena walked through the foyer leading to Shang Tsung's throne. Kabal and Goro were joining her it wasn't like she needed assistance for this. She preferred to do this one alone but the iron lung and royal brute refused. The trio reached Shang Tsung and once he gave Mileena the signal she spoke "She was spotted in Earthrealm far from Raiden's Temple as we speak. She seems to have...a different life with others around her. A caregiver." Mileena finished with an aggravated sigh "A caregiver?" Shang Tsung echoed in question.

Kabal cut his way into the conversation "She means her mother but with the description you gave it made it more difficult to find her. No white streaks in the hair, no pink eyes, and no magical powers. The reincarnation is shit." Kabal spat gesturing behind as if she was there. "Nova-" Shang Tsung began and Kabal cut him off once more. "News Flash she doesn't even go by Nova over there! Who the hell would name their kid Nova in this modern day. Her name is Korë. Not any better but it's different. Not fucking Nova." Now he was finished, and he put his hand on the hip for added flare.

"She's not our Lady Nova but still she stands out." Prince Goro mentioned. Mileena may have sniffed her out but Goro tracked her down. He found her first his chest swelled with pride. "She has companions." Mileena groaned half-heartedly "A friend and a consort." Shang Tsung leaned forward standing up from his throne altogether. "A consort?!" Kabal spoke again, "Yeah, not very good looking or the sharpest tool in the shed but they're around each other." Too bad they couldn't see Kabal rolling his eyes because he was doing so every few seconds. "Are you the better option?" Kabal asked genuinely "She is my Queen, my better half." Shang Tsung's voice echoed dreamily and again Kabal rolled his eyes "That's what they all say." Mileena then stepped closer to Shang Tsung as if it was just the two of them. "She had the marking of a Chosen One." Shang Tsung smirked "All the better." He then snapped his head to the side to look over at Nitara perched on a block of stone petting her wings. "Kabal and Mileena...Nitara will assist you in retrieving Nova." Mileena had no problem with that, she got along with Nitara so far. "Yes, master." Nitara said slyly as she sashayed towards the two said kombatants.

"Kill or injure beyond repair whoever stops you from bringing back my wife!" His voice echoed into the maroon sky.

Korë herself was sitting in a chair next to her close friend and housemate, Soleil. "You know what I think I did a really good job on my eyeshadow." She said brushing it a few more times and facing Soleil to show her eyelids covered in white eyeshadow and silver outline. She also had glitter on her face it must have been from the perfume or another form of body glitter. "I think you did really good this time, you're getting better." Soleil put her brush down and stood up fixing her dress in the process. Korë and Soleil were wearing the same dress it was a short pure white dress with lace at the ends and at Korë thought it was plus since it also wasn't strapless.

"Korë Nagako and Soleil Zaveri... five-minute call out. Almost showtime." It was their manager, Soleil responded with an 'Alright' and Korë an 'Okay'. Soleil stood up from her rolling chair as she finished her winged eyeliner and Korë followed her as she finished putting on her lip gloss.

"Yeah, I'm at the place it's like this, singer stripper bar or whatever, I don't know but she's here," Sonya said as she entered the bar and took a seat in the back, and ordered a drink.

"Now, blessing us with their presence is the femme fatale duo is Korë and Soleil!" The response to the statement was scattered cheers. The duo walked onto the stage and the atmosphere itself changed when she saw Korë. Korë had a slight headache that she had been nursing for a couple of days and Soleil knew that but Korë was convinced that it had gone away and she was just dealing with the aftermath. They both cleared their throat and as the stage light shined on them, Soleil started harmonizing as the beat started playing and Korë started singing.

It's like you got superpowers

Turn my minutes into hours

You got more than 20-20, babe

Made of glass the way you see through me

You know me better than I do

Can't seem to keep nothing from you

How you touch my soul from the outside?

Permeate my ego and my pride

"I love you." Shang Tsung said as he wrapped his arms around Korë twisting her around so she was facing him and she gazed at him lovingly as a teasing smirk spread across her obsidian lips. She leaned in until their lips were ghosting over each other "Do you want me to say it back?" She asked jokingly "I think my heart will truly break if you don't." Shang said dramatically and she giggled "I love you."

I wanna love me (ooh)

The way that you love me (ooh)

Ooh, for all of my pretty

And all of my ugly too

I'd love to see me from your point of view

I wanna trust me (trust me)

The way that you trust me (trust me)

Ooh, 'cause nobody ever loved me like you do

I'd love to see me from your point of view

"If you stop moving it would hurt less Prince Goro." He growled again at her statement and she returned it with a cold, unmoving stare. His growls then calmed down to huffs and puffs "Thank you." She said to him as she finished wrapping the bandage around his arm. "The wound isn't too bad, you'll heal fast either way." She said as she stood up and gathered her healing equipment and before she left she was grated with a rumbling "Thank you." at least he had manners she'll give him that. Before she closed the door she sent him a smile. A kind smile. One to remember.

I'm gеtting used to receiving

Still gеtting good at not leaving

I'ma love you even though I'm scared (oh, scared)

Learnin' to be grateful for myself (oh, oh, oh)

You love my lips 'cause they say the

Things we've always been afraid of

I can feel it startin' to subside

Learnin' to believe in what is mine

"I wouldn't recommend it Mileena," Nova said as she closed her spellbook and stood to face Mileena and they were roughly the same height. "But to ensure my knowledge of it-" Nova sighed and grabbed Mileena by the shoulders "I don't want you to learning just yet, you must stick with the powers you were born with for now. I will teach you myself when you have elevated your powers. Understand?" Nova asked tilting her head for the effect and Mileena nodded. Nova brought her in for a hug and kissed her on the forehead and at that Mileena purred in comfort and delight for the slight praise she got.

I wanna love me (ooh)

The way that you love me (ooh)

Ooh, for all of my pretty

And all of my ugly too

I'd love to see me from your point of view

I wanna trust me (trust me)

The way that you trust me (trust me)

Ooh, 'cause nobody ever loved me like you do

I'd love to see me from your point of view

I couldn't believe it or see it for myself

Boy, I be impatient, but now I'm out here

Fallin', fallin', frozen, slowly

Fallin', got me right

I won't keep you waitin' (waitin')

All my baggage fadin' safely (my baggage fadin')

And if my eyes deceive me

Won't let them stray too far away, I

I wanna love me (ooh)

The way that you love me (ooh)

Ooh, for all of my pretty

And all of my ugly too

I'd love to see me from your point of view

I wanna trust me, ooh (trust me)

The way that you trust me, baby (trust me)

'Cause nobody ever loved me like you do

I'd love to see me from your point of view (oh)

Yeah

As they finished their performance they got a fresh round of applause and Korë finally let out a breath as she always did after a performance and smiled alongside Soleil. After giving a wave they went backstage and collected their money. Since they didn't feel like staying at the bar anymore that night they decided to head home. "Good night KoKo," Soleil said with a yawn as she kissed her on the cheek and closed the door to her room. Korë was outside on the back porch humming and looking up at the sky, enjoying the night breeze. Until she heard whispering and then shuffling in the bushes 'The fuck?' she said under her breath as she quickly grabbed the steel bat near her that they used for protection.

She walked closer to the bushes and beat them with the bat a few times before staring at them again. She sighed, maybe she was just tired that was more than likely the case. She let out another breath as she turned but then yelped as she was met with a woman who was roughly her size and height. Her eyes glowed in the night and her mouth was covered in blood and it looked almost stained on her face. "Mommy Nova! I have waited so long for you!" She grinned widely showing off her razor-sharp teeth and reached for a hug arms opened wide but Korë moved a couple of steps back, her back bumped into someone and she turned to see a man taller and lankier.

"Hey, sweetness." It sounded like a man, a man who had trouble breathing and could barely compose his words. Korë wasn't thinking straight that's all she could of. She swung her bat wildly at the two intruders causing the man to speed away and the woman teleport back a few feet away from her. But she knows that she has hit one of them by the blood on her bat and the scar that was made on her stomach. She shrieked as she held her stomach and she did a full 360° but she couldn't see them. She felt like she was going to faint from the loss of blood and the lack of sleep. She then heard gunshots and she fell to the ground hoping that nothing else would wound her.

"Get up and get in the car!" She didn't have to be told twice since she was living off of adrenaline at the moment. She ran past the woman who was still letting off gunshots as she got in the car and slammed the door as she leaned into the seat protectively. After letting off a few more shots that the duo continued to dodge Sonya ran back to the car as well and got into the driver's seat starting the car and zooming off as she saw beady red eyes staring at her in the rearview mirror. "Who the hell are you?" Korë asked with a hiss as the woman started looking at her up and down when she suddenly asked "Where is the marking?" She asked indignantly "What fucking marking?! What the fuck are you talking about?" Korë spat and Sonya rolled her eyes as she tugged Korë's hoodie upwards and ghosted her finger over the Mortal Kombat marking.

"You wanna explain that?"

[weakzen]

Left on the detective’s desk, a single red rose and a note written in precise handwriting:

Alex,

What happened to you - you didn’t deserve it. You can be loved, if you let yourself.

Happy Valentine’s Day

(yolo experimental style; alex/mason, early established relationship, angst and fluff; no direct mention of abuse, just oblique circling and fatalistic thoughts; rated m for mason; also on AO3~)

Even though I didn't finish reading it, even though I hid it from sight, imprisoned it in darkness, cast it to the depths of the bottom drawer until the end of shift, when it would be possible to smuggle the thing into the break room recycle bin without risking Tina's eyes or interrogation, that stupid fucking note has somehow still managed to reach up through all those heavy files and twist my stomach into knots.

For hours.

Plucking my nerves hard enough to make my hands fucking shake too. Typos in every report, backspace key pulling overtime without pay. Not helped by eyes that won't stop stinging. Armpits that haven't fully dried either, along with a weird chill, shivers that persist despite the sweater and the cranked-up thermostat.

At least the rose is gone. Snuck it into the arrangement on Tina's desk, the one I get her every year.

It looks better surrounded by friends.

It was nice to see it on the desk this morning

(Can still smell it perfuming the air.)

And if I could get rid of my thoughts as easily, I would. Because after half a day of chasing them in circles, I still can't figure out who the fuck sent that goddamn note, who the fuck would write something like that—say shit like that, to me—who could possibly fucking think or know or say anything about that, or that I-I, that I—

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckingfuck.

That sickly feeling wrenches again, hard enough to jerk me forward over the desk, face buried in my hands while my breathing shudders into something unsteady and vaguely gasping.

Fuck.

It can't be Tina.

It can't.

It should be, but it can't.

The writing's not loopy enough to be hers, and it's not slanted enough to be Verda's, and the damn thing isn't covered in nearly enough heart stickers to be from Felix. We all should know. Nate's been sighing nonstop for the past week, scraping them off every available surface in the Warehouse—except for the lacy pink one Felix managed to sneak right between Adam's shoulders.

And the glittery red one I pressed covertly to Mason's ass.

(Maybe not so covertly. Found a few hearts stuck to my underwear later when I slipped outta my jeans, and the secrets of how the fuck he pulled that off are still locked behind his smirk.)

A smile tries to pull at my lips, but the tightness in my gut warps it crooked.

Another shuddery breath.

It can't be from Adam either. If he had something to say to me, he'd just say it, preferably after he finished laying me out on the mats, all sweaty and sucking down air from another session of his gentle ass-kicking. Nate, however, would write a note to me. Has written a note to me. Has written many notes to me and still not made a dent in that stack of expensive stationary, and although the card stock was silk cream, the pigment obsidian night, and the calligraphy swooping in almost a dead ringer, I know it can't be from Nate because he would never leave a rose with his words, not the ones meant for me.

But there isn't anyone else.

There's Mason

And it can't be from him.

It's not his handwriting, to start. I think. I'm pretty sure. I've never actually seen his writing, but I can't imagine it would be anything resembling neat or careful. It's gotta be complete chicken scratch. All cramped and illegible. He's left handed too, barely patient enough to sit through a stoplight, much less give ink the time to dry, so there'd be definitely be smears, and there weren't any smears. At all. Can't be him.

Not to mention he'd never do anything like this.

Don't know why he keeps coming to mind anyway. Just because we're…

Together

—for now.

Doesn't mean he'd ever say anything like that—

He already has

(He did. He said I deserved better and I believe him, but I don't, I can't.)

—only because he'd say differently if he knew.

If he really knew.

He'd say different and I'm not gonna fucking tell him and it doesn't fucking matter anyway, it doesn't. Shine's gonna wear off soon enough. Novelty, satisfied. Boredom, returning. And at least the conversation won't be awkward, just… blunt. To the point. A first for us both, in topic, if not style.

I've never been dumped before, at least not in a romantic sense.

Another breath. Another shuddery breath.

Wonder how it's gonna feel.

(It's gonna suck.)

No fucking shit.

If it can't last, why agree to it at all?

I rub hard at my eyes, grinding palms into sockets.

If it can't last, why not tell him anyway?

Because I already fucking know! Don't need to hear it from him, don't wanna hear it from—

If it can't last, why does it matter what he thinks?

“…Stupid fucking note.”

It was nice to see it on the desk this morning

(Someone took the time, wrote it, left it in here. Someone cares.)

Someone's playing a sick fucking joke, more like.

What if it's genuine?

I scoff ragged, squeezing fingers around the back of my neck.

(Tina cares. So does Verda. The whole team, so many others, I know, and I believe them all but I don't. I can't.)

What if you didn't deserve it?

I did. I stayed and I did. My fault. Fucking stupid, like he always said.

(All Mason ever speaks is care. In a thousand different ways of touch, in silence, in lingering looks, he cares.)

What if you can be loved?

What if you can?

A brittle laugh wheezes past my lips and shoots toward something hysterical, boosted by acid burn and cloying petals and that churning, churning tightness. My shoulders hunch high around my ears while the sound pitches even higher, lungs immolated and screaming along, nails digging, cutting crescents as I shake and curl tighter, smaller, compacting into stiffness hard enough to rival diamonds, every muscle verging on a cramp and my throat is stinging and my eyes are on fire, hot, wet, and the door is closed, the blinds shut, and maybe I could just— this time— if I stayed quiet, I could—

I could—

But I don't.

I swallow once, twice, suck down, blink it away, then snap upright and get back to work. There's too much shit, not enough time.

Never enough time, not for that.

For you

(Remember to eat lunch.)

I don't.

I don't really remember talking to anyone either. Or finishing paperwork. Answering email. Clearing the inbox backlog, digital and otherwise, but the stack depletes, the numbers go down, Tina gives me shit from the doorway, and soon the peripheral lights tick off overhead in the foyer, a mop bucket rattles its rounds, darkness crept into my office at some point for a visit and now it's here to stay, just its quiet company along with the monitor blasting eye strain, clacking keys, tight shoulders, a headache, and then—

A familiar ass plops down on my desk and scares the shit out of me.

I jerk back in the chair, wheels rolling, hand over heart to keep it from pounding free and Mason looms above it all, bathed in harsh blues, deep shadows, a deeper frown, and eyes that refuse to obey the rules of any ambient illumination.

Right now? They're crinkled soft, even as they scrutinize.

He looks… worried.

When did he even open my door?

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“…Yeah,” I mutter. A lie, an obvious one, but I fight the urge to glance away and dare him to call me out anyway. “You need something, sunshine?”

A muscle in his jaw twitches. “You're late.”

“For what?”

We didn't make plans.

“Getting home.”

Fuck.

I sigh, slumping in the seat, and now I'm looking away, now I'm backing down, running a hand through my hair, mussing and tangling, just like he always does when he's uncertain.

And when the hell did I start doing that?

“Yeah, I'm still behind on shit from my vacation. I was gonna stay late tonight, try and catch up…” I explain, because Tina and I also didn't make plans this year.

(Because she's been marinating in smugness ever since I sighed and told her about the relationship. Because she dropped that shit-eating smirk earlier—that I remember, at least—dripping suggestion all over my office as she waggled her brows and winked and made obnoxious kissy faces until I shoved her out the door, but not before she told me to 'have lots of fun tonight, Alexandra.')

Sure.

“Sorry I didn't text. I… forgot.”

That tightness in my stomach does another loop, and I huff a quiet breath.

Stupid fucking note.

Mason folds his arms. “…The fuck is going on with you?”

Concern blunts the teeth of his words, not that there's any real bite. There never is, not with him, but I tense up anyway, expecting it, expecting to be ripped open.

Blood and pain.

I'd tense up no matter how he asked.

It's okay

(He's not Bobby.)

“Nothing,” I reply, folding my arms, eyes down, “just…”

It's okay

(He's not looking to hurt.)

Probably will anyway, but fuck it. I already know his answer.

Let's just get it over with.

“You didn't leave me a valentine earlier, did you?” My gaze snaps to his. “On my desk?”

Mason scoffs. “Why the hell would I do that?”

This time, it stabs instead of twists, higher up, somewhere in my chest. Something sharp instead of dull.

Disappointment? …Relief? I'm not sure.

Just that it stings.

And it's nighttime, so maybe he feels it too, and maybe that's why he unfolds his arms and shifts toward me, boot heel dangling by the bottom drawer while his voice drops to a softness that matches his accent. “What it say?”

“Nothing,” I repeat, even quieter than him. “Just someone fucking with me. It doesn't matter.”

It does

(Shouldn't lie, not to him. Don't need to. Don't want to, don't like it.)

Mason doesn't like it either, but he doesn't push it. Neither do I.

We look away from each other.

The office swelters around us, too stuffy, too small. Too silent and uncomfortable now to stay. I roll forward to save my work, then turn the computer off and Mason's already waiting for me by the door, a dark silhouette framed by distant fluorescent, my coat and bag hanging off his arms. He pulls me in while I put it all on, yanking me by lapels before abandoning them for the sweater on my lower back, the loose hair at my nape. His lips brush against mine in slow movements, soft nibbling, and he's whispering something to me with it all, with the strokes of his fingers and the circle of our chins, but I can't quite hear.

So ask

(He'll answer—and he won't lie.)

I swallow, then I do.

“…What kind of kiss was that?”

“Dunno.” He shrugs beneath my hands, breath tickling my face. “I want you to feel better.”

“Oh.”

A shadow flits behind his eyes.

“…And if he's still bothering you, I'm gonna break his fucking jaw again.”

I chuckle softly. “Pretty sure it wasn't him this time.”

“Good.” Mason nibbles another kiss, then smirks. “Might still do it anyway.”

That gets a laugh from both of us, one that sprawls into a pause, grey eyes locked to mine while our grins fade out and our breath catches on everything unspoken and nameless rushing in to take the space.

Honesty. It's what I try to speak. Trailing up from the emotional ooze, raw and sticky.

I hope he can fucking see it, hear it cry, but I wipe it off and whisper the words into shape anyway, cheeks flaming, just to be sure—

“I'm sorry, I just… I don't wanna talk about it now.”

—and he answers me with a brush of his mouth, with his tongue parting my lips, with the way he teases into me before licking deeper, the way he jerks our hips together then shoves, a knee between my thighs, my back into a wall, a door frame, a sharp corner, a low groan rumbling up his chest directly into mine and I hear it all this time, in his breathy panting at the edge of our kiss, the firmness in his fingers angling my face to his, the solid heat of his cock pressed hard against me, grinding slow while I cling tight and moan, I hear it all, but he sucks my lip in with a sharp inhale, rolls me around his mouth before releasing with a drag of teeth, and he murmurs it aloud anyway, just to be sure—

“I know, sweetheart. It's fine.”

—then he nips down hard, and it's hard not to smile, hard not to laugh, harder still not to nip that asshole right back, so I don't.

Hold back, that is.

Our lips are swollen and sore by the time the station door swings shut behind us.

[sneezyminniejo]

Can i request a jimin snz fic where he goes on a date with namjoon and namjoon takes him to a perfume shop so that he can buy jimin a perfume as a first date gift but as soon as they enter jimin just keeps rapid sneezing and eventually he becomes so embarassed that he runs away (from the date) ?

Here it is, Hope you enjoy First Date Disaster

Jimin was practically vibrating with excitement. Tonight was his first date with Namjoon, and he was going to be here any minute to pick him up. He had spent the past hour agonizing over what to wear, He had ultimately decided on a baby blue polo shirt with a navy blue blazer. Right as he finished getting dressed, Jimin heard a knock on the door.

He opened the door to find an equally stunningly dressed Namjoon, who offered his arm, and then escorted Jimin to his car.

“So where are we going for this date?” asked Jimin, since Namjoon hadn’t given him any info for the date aside from ‘dress nicely’.

“Well for dinner I was thinking of a really nice italian place my friends recommended, and I have a surprise location for after dinner.”

Jimin was excited at the prospect of both Italian food and a surprise. He loved both, and he had never been let down by surprises, so he decided not further question the older about their date plans.

Dinner had been delicious, and once the bill had been paid, they went off to the second location which was still a mystery for Jimin. After a few minutes on the road, Namjoon pulled up to a storefront called ‘Scent of Mystery’.

“Namjoon-hyung, what kind of place Scent of Mystery?” Namjoon chuckled a little before answering.

“It’s a perfume store I found a few weeks back. You can buy premade perfumes or you can make your own. That’s part of why it’s called ‘Scent of Mystery’. I also asked the owner if there was a special reason for the interesting name, and apparently he’s kind of obsessed with old American films. ‘Scent of Mystery’ is a murder mystery from 1960 that used smellovision.” Jimin just stared at Namjoon after that explanation. He was also now a little apprehensive to go into the store as his  nose is a bit sensitive and he wasn’t sure how he was going to react to all the different smells in one place. He quickly shook the thoughts out of his head and got out of the car.

The second they walked into the store, Jimin’s sinuses immediately started burning. He temporarily thought about asking to leave or ending the date early, but Namjoon just looked so excited about picking out perfumes for each other. Jimin decided to push through and hope his nose would cooperate.

However, it didn’t take long for the burning itch to become unbearable, and his breath started hitching. Thankfully for Jimin, Namjoon was currently at the counter speaking to an employee, so he quickly ducked to the side and stifled a quick double. It gave him some relief, but with all the aromas wafting around the building, he knew he was far from done.

Namjoon had come back over to Jimin to tell him that they could make their own scents now if they wanted, but stopped short when Jimin appeared to be zoning out.

“Jimin-ah, are you-” “Hih-itcshh, tcshhh, hngxt” Namjoon was abruptly cut off by Jimin sneezing a rapid triple into his hands. “Sorry hyung. I don’t know where those came from.” Jimin lied. He was definitely allergic to at least one of the scents wafting through the store. He also knew that if he wanted any hope of relief he would need to leave.

“That’s okay Minnie.” Jimin blushed at the nickname. “Anyway I arranged for us to make our own perfumes and they’re ready for us.” Jimin sighed internally, as he knew it was going to be awhile before they left if they were making custom perfumes. Jimin followed Namjoon to the counter and the two started on their perfumes.

Jimin had managed to quell the itch for around five minutes before sniffling and rubbing his nose weren’t effective anymore. Whatever scent that had been assaulting his sinuses the most was definitely at the counter he was now sitting at. The fit that he could feel coming was going to be long and messy.

Jimin really didn’t want to have a bad allergic fit in front of Namjoon, so as his breath hitching wildly and tears beginning to stream down his face, he abruptly got up and ran out of the store. 

Namjoon didn’t know what to think of Jimin leaving so abruptly, aside from he did something wrong. Namjoon decided that calling would be better over texting, so he dialled Jimin’s number. It took a minute before he picked up.

“Hello.” Namjoon heard followed by a sniffle and more breath hitching. He was sure now that he had upset Jimin somehow and now he was crying. Namjoon decided to try damage control in hopes of getting a second chance or remaining friends, so he started apologizing. For what, he had absolutely no clue.

“Jimin-ah, I am so sorry if I somehow upset or offended you tonight. If there-” Namjoon suddenly heard a sharp intake of breath, making him begin to think he lost all chances with the younger.

“Hih-itcsshhh, hgnxt, itcshh, istiew, heck-STIEW! Ugh, Sorry about that, Joon-hyung, what were you saying?” Namjoon just stared at his phone for a minute before remembering that he was apologizing.

“Jimin-ah, I’m sorry if I somehow messed up tonight. If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, will you please let me?” Namjoon waited a moment before hearing the clear sounds of someone, most likely Jimin, blowing his nose.

Namjoon then heard Jimin chuckle lightly on the other end, making him thoroughly confused. “Hyung, you didn’t do anything to upset me.” Jimin stated

“But, you ran out of the store sobbing?” Jimin chuckled again. “It is true that I ran out of the store” Jimin sniffled again. “And I probably looked like I was crying, but I wasn’t upset. Hold on.” There was a pause, and Namjoon heard Jimin try to stifle three more sneezes.

“My sinuses couldn’t handle all of the smells in the store. In fact, I think I was allergic to at least one of the scents at the counter we were sitting at. I was already embarrassed about sneezing in front of you before going to the counter, and I ran out because I was about to have a massive sneezing fit and was too embarrassed to just admit that I needed to leave.”

Namjoon sighed in relief at finding out he didn’t upset Jimin and then spoke up. “Does this mean we could do a redo of our first date? I promise I won’t take us anywhere with strong scents.”

“Yes hyung, you can take me out again. Just give me a few days to recover first. Based on all the sneezing I’ve done tonight, I’m going to have a wicked headache tomorrow and probably sound like I have a cold for a couple days.”

“Sorry about that again Minnie. And thank you for a second chance. It’s a date.”