#morbidmatt

[adirtydream-blog1]

@morbidmatt  

“So,” said the bartender as she placed a Peach Schnapps bottle back in its place behind the bar. “What’s your plan now, kid?”

Mary stared into the mixed drink she couldn’t afford. Such a pretty color. With a small shrug and tear-clouded eyes, she managed a weak, “I don’t know.”

How long did Mary sit on that bar stool? Had it been six hours already? How many nights in a row did she duck into The Lighthouse, and pray to God they wouldn’t ask for proof she was old enough to buy their pretty cocktails? Five nights, so far, and now that Rhonda-the-bartender knew everything, Mary’s world sat on the cusp of change. 

“Maybe I can make a few calls for you,” said Rhonda. Mary didn’t look up. The police would know what to do with her. Rhonda stared at Mary, sitting there with her blue eyes on that drink like the answers were in there. Poor girl, thought Rhonda, and moved along to greet another patron at the bar.

Mary told her everything. Rhonda finally asked for identification, and Mary wept. From the death of her parents and the tragedy that the foster system was, to being homeless for five days and almost out of money, she confessed it all. It was only pity that saved Mary from being tossed out on her ass, along with the one backpack holding everything she owned, but pity wouldn’t last the night. Mary wouldn’t. 

She brushed her wild, tangled mess of black curls away from her ghost-white face. All her clothes were dirty now. Even the faded navy blue skirt she wore had little stains from spilling one drink or another, and dirt smeared across the back from sitting on one too many dirty curbs. Her pink sweater too, hung awkwardly off her skinny frame and needed a few loving stitches to put it right again. Mary swallowed, hungry. Her stomach growled and begged for something. Anything.

Mary wiped her eyes - always leaking these days - and hopped off her seat so she could squat next to her bag and dig around its meager contents. She pulled a coin purse out that’d once been pretty. The coins jingled as she pushed them around, and their silver sound sounded like a cruel laugh. A few quarters. A couple dimes. Her eyes swept from the little pouch to the bar. A few men and women looked at her askance. What was a girl like that doing in a bar? 

Mary swallowed and turned her face away. She stared at the boots of a man at the bar as she tried to think. Think. Think. She’d never been much good at that.

[brokenblondeprincess]

Lust Potion

Annabelle and Matthew were working as the laboratory assistants for a longer while now. And even if she caught a glimpse of interest from his side she made him well aware that she’s happily married and wishes for nothing like workspace drama. They managed to keep things professional even if working late nights in the laboratory alone. Some of the experiments needed to be pursuit at the specific time of day to see how the mices react to the chemicals and if it changes in the course of the time. The drug they were testing lately appeared to have a strange side effect. The mices were humping each other frantically. Annabelle rolled her eyes at Matthew’s comment that they won’t have to worry about the material for tests if the animals keep reproducing at this rate. But she made none of it and her coffee tasted the same this evening. She noticed Matthew glancing at her curiously but she brushed it off. Maybe he forgot about the source of his interest himself because eventually he asked if she can bring in equipment from the storage room. And she went to get it. Then suddenly she felt the heat overcoming her senses. As the door opened god knows how long later, she was on the floor squirming, her hand in her panties. Suddenly she forgot about the world around, there was only Matthew, more attractive than any other male in the universe.

@morbidmatt

[pocketfullofsadness]

“Tell me, your name isn’t Dickface, king of the douchebags is it?” The petite female asked grabbing her drink off the counter as she stared at the bartender in front of her. He seriously had just tried to in her view suduce a woman at a very weak and fraigle state of mind. Nevaeh wasn’t usually the kind to suddenly call someone out but the raven haired female had been conversing with the woman to her right for the past half hour about how the woman’s husband had just filed for divorce from her an went off with some girl half his age. 

@morbidmatt

[benefitcrhazard-blog]

The Red Room

“Shall I begin?” Two bright red lips moved in the reflection of the mirror. A smooth shaft of compressed red cream pressed gently onto the surface of the bottom lip, leaving behind a brighter and more vibrant color. The lips moved away from the mirror and her pale fingers worked to cap the lipstick before setting it into its designated drawer. “Shall we begin?” Repeated the voice, a few notes lower this time, the lower register sounding better with her pitch. It was her favorite line, the one that she had used most frequently since beginning her days here at the Red Room. It invited input, signaled consent, and most importantly - the three words caused a chemical reaction within her clients. Their hearts started to beat with a frequency that signified excitement and arousal, meaning that their brains and bodies remained on high alert - a sign to her that they were engaged chemically, emotionally, and physically.

Her body crossed over to the window and she stopped to watch the crowded group of people hurry across the street from where she stood on the second floor. Some slowing as they neared her place of employment, only a few were brave enough to slow near the entrance where the door was always cracked, providing a sliver of a glimpse of unknown pleasures to an otherwise mundane world. The open door to the Red Room - it was a dare for most, a welcome for some. She sat on the platform of the windowsill, the windows locked, as were all windows in the building, and pressed her hand against the cool of the glass. She pulled up a memory of the last time she had entertained a client - he had pressed her body up against the window, the condensation from the heat of their union left a cloud around their outline on the glass. In her lonely and bored time spent looking outside of her window, she recalled these memories, studied them in order to provide a better experience for them when they returned. If they returned. Her inner calculations reminding her that she had not had a client in over a month, her last client remarking that she had freaked him out, saying that she was too real.

She sat this way at the windowsill for hours until day turned to night. The bustling current of people moving along the street thinned, and the sounds of the Red Room grew around her. Her heightened hearing could pick up on these minor sensitive sounds - a loud and sudden huff of breath, a small tear in clothing, or the repeated sound of feet moving along the carpet just outside her door. It was this very sound that pulled her out of her analyzing trance. The sound of feet approaching her door - the movement wasn’t calculated enough to be another pleasure model, it was choppy and unrecognizable, and the gait was all wrong. She stood quickly and moved to grab at the knob the same time as it was pushed open from the other side.

Her eyes grew in their almond shape and the questioning blue of her irises bore a penetrating gaze at the man who had moved in closer with the action of the door. “Well, hello…” Mae breathed, having found herself caught off guard in a rare moment.

[archiveda]

@morbidmatt continued from here x

Kveta did as she was told. She stood before her Master with her body on full display for him. The inking had taken several days and she had wanted to surprise him when it was finished and the swelling had gone down. The pain was now eclipsed by the way Matthew looked at her as he circled her. Her heart fluttered. She adored when he gazed at her like that. She knew she had pleased him before he even muttered a word. 

“I’s gla’ yews like t’em sir,” she murmured as she gazed up into his eyes. “I’s wanned ta ge’ somet’in’ yews coul’ enjoy bot’ when I’s perform an’ durin’ our private shows.” The petite acrobat turned to face him and leaned in against his body. Her hands smoothed up the front of his shirt before hooking around his neck. Leaning up on her toes, she pressed a soft kiss to his lips. 

“Does yew wanna see wha’ t’ey look like when I’s all sprea’ ou’ fer yew? I’s nee’ ta warm up fer t’e show tonigh’ anyways...” A grin curved her soft lips upward, hoping he would treat her. 

[lost-in-ivory]

Updateღ

The following people have been added to Alister’s relationship page here! { along with your new otp/brotp tags }

If you would like to be added and I missed you please please please let me know!! 

@irishtycoon, @mournus, @dontkillourvibe, @illfatedxqueen, @anedendarkly, @gxngsterprince, @morbidmatt, @anotherfxinglovesong, @lxstbrain, @fatalmute, @rcttlesnckeღ

[crazyxstupidfreak]

@morbidmatt

Alexie had been engaged for four weeks now, and the wedding was to happen in a few months. You’d think it’s great and that she must be happy. On the contrary, Alexie was very, very, very nervous. First of all, she barely knew her future husband, it was all arranged by their parents. And second, well, she was still a virgin. It might not seem that important, but it was to Alexie. She had always expected her first time to be perfect, but with all the wedding planning going on lately, she was getting more and more worried about their wedding night.

She tried to keep it to herself, but during a night out with her best friend and bridesmaid-to-be, it eventually came out in the conversation. Jordan is the outgoing friend who often ended up with someone whenever they’d go out. She had tried to push Alexie towards men many times, but her shyness always came in the way. Therefore, it seemed normal to Jordan to recommend her to hire a Practice Mate. Alexie had never heard of it and was a bit reluctant. But, she thought she didn’t really have a choice if she wanted things to go perfectly.

And there she was, standing in front of that door on which she had just knocked, more nervous than ever.

[betweenshadcws]

@morbidmatt

“What do think about the text I gave you?” Luc asked the teacher as the lesson was finished and students were hurrying to the door. His blue eyes were glimmering with curiosity. He wrote a psychedelic vision of killing his parents, mostly to disturb this dark haired handsome man. But it was well written as well, at least in his opinion.