#a man in leather jacket you just can't go wrong

[gothamite-rambler]

Jason has not washed his jacket in a few months due to his hectic schedule… Roy wears a trucker hat.

Roy: I’m not getting in the car until he burns that jacket.

Jason (shrugging): I won’t wear the jacket if you don’t wear your hat.

Harley and Artemis groaned, Artemis visibly aggravated that this argument was happening again.

Roy (raising an eyebrow): What? What’s wrong with my hat?

Jason: You say my jacket stinks, so I argue that your hat stinks and makes you look like a trucker from the South.

Roy (incensed): It does not!

Jason (smugly): Correction, an inbred trucker from the South.

Jason turned away, crossing his arms.

Artemis (rubbing her forehead in frustration): Just take off the stupid hat so we don't have to drive with the windows open again.

Roy: My hat doesn’t make me look like an inbred trucker! It's not my fault he hasn't washed his awful jacket in months!

Jason (scratching his head): It's not my fault you idolize Ashton Kutcher.

Roy (enraged): Take that back, you son of a bitch!

Harley stepped in, pushing a red-faced Roy back.

Harley: Yeah, maybe we shouldn’t sling those types of insults around.

Jason: I’ll stop as soon as he tosses his hat in the trunk of my car. Until then, Florida Man and I will be staying right here.

Roy (insulted, raising his voice): FLORIDA MAN!

Harley: Roy, he doesn't mean that as an insult… right, Jason?

Jason looked at his phone, refusing to leave or admit defeat.

Roy: My hat doesn't make me look inbred, like Ashton Kutcher or Florida Man! You look like a… prostitute boy!

Jason's jaw clenched at the strange but surprisingly hurtful insult, while Harley nervously nibbled her fingernail. Artemis simply nodded at Harley, silently confirming that yes, the argument over a hat and a coat had happened before.

Artemis (whispering as she shook her head): This argument started because Jason can't go to the cleaners.

Harley stepped in front of an enraged Jason.

Harley: All right, all right, nothing said here is true. We've all had a tough day; let’s just—

Jason shoved Harley out of the way and stepped closer to Roy.

Jason: Stinky hat!

Roy: It doesn’t smell like someone sprayed air freshener and cheap body spray on it! So take the jacket off and toss it in the trunk!

Jason: Oh yeah? Your stupid hat smells like cheap hairspray and gel. Stinky hat!

Roy: A bodysuit and a worn, awful-smelling jacket don’t make you look tough!

Jason: Oh yeah? Well, a stinky, stupid hat doesn't help you shoot arrows well! It actually hinders it!

Roy (loudly): Your jacket had maggots in it once!

Jason (even louder): Your hat stinks!

Roy: Brown, cheap leather jackets stopped being cool in the 2000s!

Jason: Your hat is still stupid, and it was never popular.

Artemis let out an exhausted sigh, placing her hands on her hips.

Artemis: Oh my gods.

Jason: I’m not taking off my jacket until he admits the hat has always looked dumb.

Roy: Your jacket looks like you stole it from a homeless man!

Jason: Stupid hat!

Roy: Your coat smells like a dead man!

Jason: Oh yeah? Well, you have a stupid hat!

Jason and Roy continued to argue, while Artemis and Harley glanced back and forth between the two, watching them shout over one another. Finally, Harley jumped in between them.

Harley: Stop it! The both of ya's! Six feet away from each other!

Jason and Roy begrudgingly moved apart. Jason lay back on the ground, gazing up at the sun while Roy sat down on the dirt, a short distance away.

Artemis (checking the time on her phone): Oh my Zeus, we have to leave! We’ve been here for ten minutes, and Bizarro is already in the car!

Harley (mumbling): I’m starting to get why he went to the car now.

Meanwhile, Bizarro sat in the car, listening to opera and observing the scene unfold through the closed window.

Bizarro: They are not arguing about the coat versus the hat again? Geniuses.

Artemis: We’re never going to get to the forest! Just put both items in the trunk, and we’ll wash them later.

Jason: Not until he admits that trucker hats are dumb and fell out of style after Ashton Kutcher left Punk’d!

Roy: Screw you, jerk!

Artemis (sarcastically): Right, glad you guys are acting like adults about this. Harley, do you have any suggestions?

Harley: Well, clearly, this requires a mediator. Which is me. I’ll be right back with something that can fix this.

She strode off, determined to put an end to the absurd standoff.

Twenty minutes later, Artemis drove Jason's car down the road while Roy and Jason rested their heads on each other’s shoulders, fast asleep after Harley had done the meditative deed and knocked them unconscious, tossing the items that had sparked the fight into the trunk. Bizarro sat in the back with them, chuckling at the sight of the two men, finally at peace instead of arguing, before turning his gaze back to the window.

Harley (sheepishly): They won't be mad at me for knocking them out, will they?

Artemis (chuckling): No, we've all had to do it to each other. That just makes you an official outlaw.

Harley nodded with a smile.

Bizarro: Starfire said they were easier to handle; we just got unlucky.

Harley: Right, opposite talk! We did, Biz.

Artemis (genuinely): Harley, I think you're going to make a valuable asset to our team.

Harley: Thanks, girl.

[sophsun1]

+ bonus:

OLIVER STARK as Evan 'Buck' Buckley

9-1-1 – 1.09: Trapped

[rowretro]

𝔹𝕠𝕪𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕?

✧warnings: fluff, slut shaming, kissing

♡synopsis: The bad boy Riki, has fallen for a rather girly girl, the kind of girl that many girls wouldn't expect guys to fall for. Y/n in her stylish outfits which were always admired by all, had the attention of Riki, and that seemed tick certain girls off.

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

Riki groaned as he saw you walk down the hallway. One would assume it's because of how much you dress up just to go to school, or the supermarket. That's not the reason. Fuck he loves it, your style, your creative, the fact that half your accessories, or very pretty clothes were made by you. He loves that you're like a fresh wave of energy that suddenly brings a dry, dead, withering flowers, to life again. Sometimes, though, the boys love your outfits, for all the wrong reasons.

"Y/n for fucksake pull your skirt down!" Riki said, audible enough for just you to hear, he pulled you to himself. His eyes scanning the pink, delicate shimmer on your eyelids, Pretty, spikey eyelashes that were perfectly stuck on, Oh and how could he forget those glossy, kissable lips? a few, tiny iridescent hearts evident. Pink bows decorating your braided hair. "but why? it looks cute when it's short" she said, it's not like she was ever going to need to bend, she can't anyway, not with the 5 inch heels her feet carry around all day.

"You want to know what your outfit is missing? a nice leather jacket. Here have mine." He said, as he dressed you in his large leather jacket, ignoring your protests. You looked adorable in such a big jacket. You had no problem with leather jackets either, but this one specific Riki jacket made you look ridiculous. But there were people who had a bigger problem with it. Hwang Mihi.

Hwang Mihi would be described as a conventionally attractive, powder faced bitch. From her ridiculously rolled up short skirt, cakey makeup, and extremely bitchy personality. The girl had a problem with everyone and everything, specifically you. She's heard more people praise you than they praise her, you have more followers than her, and overall, you have the man she wants. Nishimura Riki.

"Rikiiii please~ it'll look good on you I swear!" you whined as Riki frowned. "I'm not wearing lipstick!" the man whined as you whined again "It's not a lipstick! it's a lip gloss stick it's not like you'll turn in to barbie with one swipe, idols wear this you know?" you reasoned as he sighed, leaning into you face. With a smile, you carefully applied the creamy, lip gloss stick, his eyes locked on your focused face, the close proximity making his heart beat faster than Usain Bolt ever ran. It fucking pissed Mihi off.

"How the fuck does a pink barbie carbon copy like you have MY man?!" She yelled, yanking at your braided hair, her tug so tight you had to bite her wrist to get out of her hold. "UGH U PASTE FACED FUCKER- U RUINED MY BRAID!" you yelled as suddenly a different person slapped the shit out of you. You could've sworn your brain left your body then entered it again. your head hit the wall behind you painfully hard, but as you pulled away to even process the first slap, you were painfully pushed up against the wall, and there before you was a much bigger male.

"You're such a pussy! you can't fight me yourself so you're using some guy who's dick you sucked?!!!" she asked, clearly knowing the man was one of the seniors that she used to be fwb with. Just for that, the male slapped her again, chocking her. "It's that fucking tongue isn't it?! If I rip it out you'll stop talking right?" Mihi asked as you frowned. "I have another way to silence her..." the male said with a smirk, his grip on your throat tightening as he tried to place his lips on hers.

Before his lips could even reach her lips, The male fell back, some of his teeth knocked out, his mouth bloody. "The fuck are you doing to my girlfriend?!!!" Riki asked as y/n stared at him in shock, heck even the girls were shook, they were fucking scared, never has Mihi ever seen her crush so pissed off, it was fucking scary. "J-just uh..." "Just what?! beating my future wife?! do u want to be scalped and dipped into lemon juice?!!!" He asked cracking his knuckles as the girl stuttered and ran off with her minions.

Riki didn't even get the chance to check on you, as your horrified scream filled the hallways. "Fuck y/n how bad did he hurt you?" he asked, kneeling down before you as you stared at your forehand in horror "MY NAIL SNAPPED! SO LONG OF HARD WORK BROKE JUST LIKE THAT." she exclaimed as Riki stood up, sighing. "I'll take that as a yes" he mumbled.

"Girlfriend? Future wife? what was that about?" you asked staring up at him as he smiled "I guess you called call it my confession..." he said as you frowned "Try again" you said as Riki snickerred "Y/n... I love you, and I want to fucking show you that everyday, so give me a chance baby" he said as you blinked. She felt her own blush, he's perfect, everything she needed, but never did she think your dream man would love you.

"Hmm but what if I don't want to?" you teased. as Riki helped you up "My sister knows a great nail tech, she's expensive but worth the price, how bout you treat your pretty hands for some prettier nails, and I'll pay all the expenses?" he asked as the girl pouted. "You don't need to bribe me like that... let me do it instead." You said, then kissed his lips, his eyes widening in shock as you smiled. "Lets skip school im gonna treat you to the best shopping spree you'd ever experience." He said as his arm snaked around your waist.

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

[romaniacs]

▌ㅤNATASHA ROMANOFF — IN LOVE WITH A SECRETARY

( read more ) synopsis — natasha wants to keep you safe and be the person she needed when she first got into the company. she didn't really intend to catch feelings for you. warnings — headcanons, slightly suggestive, tooth rotting fluff.

coming from a real secretary

secretary natasha romanoff is your coworker

and she’s so good at her job

doesn't let anything pass

you, as a probationary employee, mess up so often

but she takes a liking to you quickly, reading you so easily

and she truly wants to help you through this period

she can tell you like her the most out of everyone

she notices that, and she can't lie, that kinda motivates her

natasha puts her hair in a bun to avoid distracting you

she wants to be professional

but undoes some of her shirt buttons

she's a bit contradicting to herself

but she tells herself it's only because it's always hot as fuck

she usually goes for a drink on her break

breaking her secretary look with a leather jacket

and taking you with her

she offers you a cigarette outside

and pats your head when you refuse it

you just can’t escape feeling things for her, she's so attractive

even when she's smoking

when she helps you out and leans down to hear you better

her hair brushes against your cheek

and you can't learn shit

she will talk and explain endlessly until you do

then you will look into her eyes

just so your mind will go blank when she asks a question

her eyes are pretty, and her voice so melodic

on week one, she says "there, hun. just save it in that folder"

... are you listening? do you want me to repeat that?"

"mhm, sorry" you say.

week two... "did you understand that?"

"i think so."

"good, i'll let you try doing it then"

"i'll try not to disappoint you"

"you'll do good, i taught you well" she smiles.

"but you can always count on me, sweetie"

on week three... "what are you thinking about?"

her

your face flushes all of a sudden

you were picturing her touching you

squeezing your waist, grabbing your arm

pulling you in for a kiss

imagining her breathing against your skin

you know she tastes like cherry gum

you always take shyly the gum she offers

as you do anything

people take advantage of that

natasha sees herself in you often

she'd struggled with her boss for a while

because the man took a liking to her

but she put him in his place eventually

"i'm not into men" she'd mumble when she got asked out

people were stupid about that

so her old coworkers tried to mess with her

now, if yours call you by a wrong name, make your job harder

or insist on taking you out, natasha is around

she protects you from them

"her name's y/n. use your brain a little" she tells them

"it's funny until i report you, hand her papers over"

"she's taken by me today, you can get going"

when she says that, she makes sure it's true

she takes you out for a good, expensive meal

buys you huge cakes filled with strawberries for dessert

goes "oh, try this!" and you take a bite of a fruit off her hand

you don't know if she's just extremely friendly

or attempting something with you

the way you are with her

"need help with anything?" you always offer

she always agrees

she is always making sure you're near her

and she's there for you too

when she is sobbing over anything

after holding in so many feelings

and you are pissed off at a friend

both drinking the night away at a bar

natasha goes "i hate being alone.

i hate wanting to do things, say things

and never doing so. things end quickly. life ends quickly.

i think we don't enjoy it enough."

"is that what's making you sad?" you ask

"that makes me angry" natasha downs a cup

"i'll just go for it. i'm done with this"

she kisses you

it's such a tender, calm yet deep kiss

you don't let her pull away though

it feels so soft

at the second kiss you share, her mind is far gone

whishing for more

natasha takes you over to a corner

her white unbuttoned shirt is thin

badge noisy as she pulls you closer

her mouth goes down your neck,

your hand goes down her waist

nothing has ever felt so deliriously good

you love the way she pulls your head to the side by your hair

just so she can leave kisses on your skin

it's hot, so is the bar, even more so now

she has an amazing time with you

gets to the office with you the next day

and people don't even wonder why she gave you a ride

... but you slept over at her place

still, natasha doesn't seem to treat you too differently

which is a good sign

it means she really was flirting before all that

"are you going downstairs, sweetie?"

"yeah. need to hand on supplies to steve.

they’re in the warehouse, right?" you ask her

she thinks. "sure, yeah" she thinks and thinks

natasha decides to go downstairs with you. to help

she knows you don't have second intentions

your feelings are always really pure, but hers aren't much

you hold her by her pinky on the way, to stop her

"is that something we're gonna do... occasionally? casually?

or maybe never again?"

"kissing?"

you nod. "are you serious?" she sounds surprised

why would it be just an occasion? i like you"

natasha approaches you, holding your chin with her fingers

"you're too precious for that, don't you know that?"

she places a sweet kiss on your lips

"so no?"

"have as many as you want.

i like your kisses" she says softly

her sweet voice reaches your chest

it gets so full of so much joy

natasha takes you as seriously as you'd expect her to

and lets you kiss her all you want

the next week, you have matching necklaces

then, bracelets

then, rings

natasha lends you her clothes

"it's cold, baby, take mine" she puts her jacket over you

always, always takes you home

so you get close to forgetting your own way home

you're always at her place now

"you guys have been weird" wanda says, your coworker

"have you been making out? you look radiant"

"oh my god. it's just the weather, wanda"

"weird" wanda squints

of course you've been making out whenever you can

natasha teaches you way more than what had been planned

her hair in a bun is styled by you since you ruin it as you kiss

plenty of times

pulling on it

and leaving her breathless

she tries to sound formal with you at work though

"you look so cute today" she whispers in your ear, however

"do you have a girlfriend? yes? she’s so lucky, oh my god"

she teases you so much

in cute ways only

but has to act serious periodically

"you gotta finish that by tomorrow, okay?"

"i need you to come up to my office"

"can you sign this?"

her slow, formal tone gets you sick in the stomach

in a good way

you crave her closeness so damn bad it hurts

then she kisses you and cools it all down

your coworkers take a year to figure out about you two

once they do, they mess with you only

"ah, i'm gonna go to the warehouse for the fourth time today!

with my apprentice! who i shall offer financial assistance to!

because i'm a loser for my girlfriend!"

they are so ironic and stupid

"fifth," natasha corrects as she overhears them one day

they freeze

a girl who was previously laughing looks about to cry

"our record is ten, don't look so shocked"

they're speechless

and natasha's proud of herself. and you

you always kiss her lips

she always wants to hold your hand, be touching you

she really just wants to spend all her time with you

you love a bit differently, but it's enough

she's always willing to teach you more

about your job, love and herself too

[peppermintquartz]

Continuation of this

Buck checks himself out for the tenth time in the mirror. He knows he looks good, but maybe he doesn't look right for trivia night? Dark jeans, his favorite boots, teal sweater... Maybe the sweater is the wrong top. Pulling it off and tossing it on top of the pile that's already on his bed, he grabs his phone and calls his sister.

"Maddie, tell me what to wear on a date to impress Tommy's friends." He pauses briefly. "Indoors, bar, trivia night."

It takes three agonizing seconds before Maddie answers. "The gray crew neck, paired with the rust-colored leather jacket or the brown suede, it brings out your complexion, and I want daisies as a thank you when you come by next."

"Thank you, I love you, say hi to Chim and Jee."

"Use protection!" Maddie gets one in just before Buck hangs up. He rolls his eyes at his phone but grins anyway as he tucks a condom into his back pocket. He might get lucky. He chooses the suede.

-

Tommy picks him up and kisses him sweetly, like they're about to go on a date instead of meeting Tommy's friends who are totally going to judge the hell out of Buck if he screws up Trivia Night.

"You look so good, I'm tempted to ditch them and take you someplace nice," Tommy murmurs against Buck's mouth.

"And have them say I'm a figment of your imagination? Nope. Plus, I dressed up to impress them," says Buck, smiling, giddy from his boyfriend's - boyfriend! Buck is never getting over that word - praise. "Well, Maddie helped to dress me. Wait that came out wrong. I meant, she helped to choose what I should wear. Did you know that royalty and nobility had, like, specific staff who helped to choose what they wore? The women were ladies-in-waiting and they were usually nobility, but of a lower station, and sometimes they were also available as sex partners to the king or the duke or prince or whatever. It's pretty exploitative, when you think about it..."

Buck sees Tommy's fond expression and his words taper off. Shyly, he kisses Tommy again.

"I may have gone down a few too many rabbit holes," he admits.

"That's amazing. You're amazing." Tommy smiles, and starts the car.

-

Buck is introduced to the group. Melton works at Harbor also, and immediately regales Buck with a story of how Tommy pleaded with their captain to drop him off at the hospital and won the bargain with promising to detail the engines the next few shifts.

"You did that for me?" Buck asks. "You didn't have to- Babe, you'd just fought a beast of a fire, I would've understood if you couldn't make it."

Tommy ducks his head, as if embarrassed. "Well, I promised. And the welcome was worth it."

They share a look, remembering the kiss in the lobby.

"You two are so sappy," Melton declares. "Can't believe we used to think you were cool."

"He is cool! He flew a helicopter into a hurricane. And landed on an upside-down cruise ship."

"Yeah, yeah. I still can't believe you're keeping your job after that jaunt."

Fernando, a wiry man with a bald head and a thick, curly beard, is the geography and botany expert. Jill Tan is their science person, her petite form nearly dwarfed by the three firefighters but her laugh is loud and free. Buck likes her. Melton is their sports and world history guy, and Tommy apparently has military and machinery trivia locked down. Buck guesses he's here to round out the team with his list of animal facts and maybe some other random bits that he's picked up on his Wikipedia tours.

"Who's on pop culture?" he asks when Tommy goes to get their drinks.

"That'll be- hey, there she is," says Fernando, waving his hand at someone over Buck's shoulder.

"Sorry I'm late, I meant to be here before Tommy comes with his... Buck?"

"Lucy?"

Fernando sips on his margarita. "So you two know each other?"

"Uh, yes, Lucy used to work at the 118," Buck manages to reply without stuttering. "I didn't know... How are you?"

At least Lucy looks as stunned as Buck feels. "I'm good. I'm, uh, yeah. I'm good. Earning my place in Harbor."

"Hey Donato, you're here. You know Evan, right? Here you go, Evan. Don't give me that look, try it first and then tell me how much you hate it." Tommy slides back into his seat, boxing Buck in.

Buck takes a sip and wrinkles his nose thoughtfully. "I don't hate it."

Lucy takes the last empty chair. There's a smile on her face that signals something, but Buck doesn't know what she's planning.

"Didn't know you were the Evan Tommy's been going all swoony about," she says casually. "Now I know why he goes all glassy-eyed when he texts you."

"He goes glassy-eyed and swoony?" Buck is amused and almost... touched? by the idea of Tommy being unable to hide his affection.

Melton nods. "It's good I'm already married, because I'd wanna hit him otherwise for being so blissed out."

"You'd be blissed out too if you're regularly kissed by this guy," Lucy says with a crooked smirk. "I should know."

Jill cackles. "Oh no, you kissed Tommy's boyfriend?"

"I wasn't his boyfriend at the time!" Buck sputters, face turning red. "Also, I was kinda drunk. Never doing that again."

"You were someone's boyfriend at the time though," Lucy continues blithely. "But I'm cute and irresistible, so I get it. I definitely didn't know you're into guys too." She cocks her head and looks straight at Tommy, curious.

"He wasn't consciously aware of that attraction until he met me." Tommy drapes an arm over Buck's shoulders, the weight a welcome focal point for him. "I'm damn lucky I'm the one he decided on. And from now on, all his kisses are for me alone." He meets Lucy's eyes.

Papers and pencils are being passed around. Buck feels the tension ease, in the way that highlights that there was a bit of tension earlier.

"Ugh, gross," Lucy declares, grinning, and hops off to get her own drink.

Jill raises her glass to Buck in a toast. "To bisexuality and knowing yourself!"

"Yeah!" Buck toasts back.

Tommy kisses his cheek. "Let's kick some trivia ass."

--

edited on AO3

[octuscle]

Now open under new management (remake)

Edward Parker III rolled down the car window a crack. Peter, his driver, had switched off the air conditioning to save fuel. The fuel gauge was practically at 0.00. Here, in the middle of nowhere, they had no mobile network. The last Google message said that a petrol station would appear at some point. And Peter claimed that it should open in five minutes. Open from 10:40 am. Strange opening times. Edward's stomach grumbled. Something had gone wrong at breakfast. The car desperately needed a gas pump. And he needed a toilet just as badly. Then, like an oasis in the desert, a building appeared in the middle of endless cornfields and pastures full of stupidly staring cattle. It was 10:39:50 a.m. when Peter steered the car into the dusty gas station with the last drop of gas. At 10:40 sharp, Edward yanked open the car door and jumped out. And the moment his spotless Oxfords touched the ground, the neon sign flashed. Open!

Edward ran towards the little store where the neon sign was shining. He was far too intent on not wetting his pants to notice the leather soles of his shoes turning into a firm rubber tread. When he pushed the door handle down, he got something like an electric shock. He didn't care. The store was empty. His palm became calloused. His fingernails were black. There was a door at the back labeled "Private". Hopefully there was a toilet there. Thank God the door was open. And thank God there was a toilet. In the middle of a room full of tools, car tires and packages. It stank miserably. But Edward didn't care at all. He had already undone his belt while running, unzipped his trousers, pulled them down and dropped onto the dirty toilet seat at the last moment. And he had to shit like never before in his life. The stench was overwhelming. But the relief was immense. Edward finally relaxed again. But only for a second. Then his eyes fell on the dirty biker boots. They contained a pair of completely filthy jeans, pulled down as far as they would go. And what was even more irritating: his right hand was the hand of a construction worker, the sleeve of his shirt had disappeared. And the fabric of the right sleeve of his jacket was also coming undone. And on his chest and back, the color changed from a navy blue to a washed-out red. What the hell was going on here?

Even greater than the panic was the disgust at the stench. His left hand, still freshly manicured, reached for the toilet flush. And again he was hit by an electric shock. Panicked, he watched as his fingernails became dirty and his hand calloused. Edward's gaze fell between his legs. That wasn't his circumcised, shaved penis. That was a cheesy, hairy cock. Much bigger than it normally was. Edward had to get out of here! He hastily wiped his ass. A tight, hairy ass, sitting there on a familiar toilet seat. A man needs a good place to shit. Hehehe, this was a good place to shit. Stumbling, Edward stood up, his head spinning. He looked in the mirror. That was still his head. But the rest of him? His stiff white collar and tie knot vanished into thin air, revealing a well-toned chest. The last remnants of the finest navy blue wool on his upper left arm disappeared, and the transformation of his jacket into a washed-out and worn-out tank top was complete. I look like a fucking hillbilly, were his last thoughts before he grew a scruffy three-day fuzzy beard. His $100 haircut became a home-cut mullet. Damn, the greasy hair hadn't been washed in a while.

Loud honking from outside. "Damn, I've taken a shit! Can't you wait?" Edward shouted. He wiped his hands on the dirty cloth stuck in his pants. Washing hands was for sissies in the city. He entered the yard of his gas station.

Hehehe, he knew the dirty truck that was parked there at the gas pump. "Pete's services of all kinds" was written on the door. And Pete Jr. was hanging in the cab with a visible bulge. "Eddy, don't you always promise the best service at your gas station?" said Pete with a grin. Ed spat out the chewing tobacco and licked his lips. "Go ahead, gas station attendant. The belt buckle won't undo itself!"

Full service and guaranteed customer satisfaction. That's what Ed's gas station was famous for.

[jjksblackgf]

too daring for you? | knj (m)

pairing — kim namjoon x reader summary — Namjoon can't keep your roleplaying idea off his head, so he'll make sure to surprise you with it when you least expect it. genre — smut, pwp rate — 18+ word count — 1.9k warnings — explicit sexual content, role playing, oral sex (m receiving), deepthroating, teabagging, manhandling, light degradation, cum eating.

Perfume, check.

Leather jacket, check.

Favorite watch, check.

Tonight, Namjoon was a different man. His night would not be the same as the others. No more boring date nights inside his apartment. Today he’ll go to a nice bar, where you’ll be expecting him. But what you’re not accounting for is his intentions.

Today he’s fulfilling a fantasy. One he’s been intrigued by since you’ve mentioned it. But to pull it off, he has to be his best confident self. Be in his A game and catch you by surprise.

Checking himself in the mirror and everything looks fine, appropriate. Except his expression. He’s not ready for this. He can only think of your request to spice things up. He didn’t know they needed spicing up in the first place.

“I’m living my greatest fantasy right now,” he remembered saying. You two were cuddling in his bed after sex. You were cozied up to his chest, and he ran the tip of his fingers through your naked spine. He was almost purring.

“Cuddling?” you asked, sounding surprised.

“Intimacy,” he answered, giggling at your amazed expression.

“Really?” you checked. “But I can’t say I’m that surprised. You’re always so… intense.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t really think we have sex per se, I see it as passionate love making. You’re fully committed to it.”

“And you’re not?” he asked. Your last sentence had his alarm bells turned on.

“Of course I am, love. Don’t get me wrong.” you shifted in bed, supporting your weight in one elbow to look at his face. “And I love that you’re passionate, and that you’re into all sorts of intimacy.”

“But?” he pressed, trying to stay calm.

“But… I, personally, wouldn’t categorize intimacy as a fantasy. I swear I’m not judging you.”

“Okay…”

“Are you mad?” you asked, and he watched as your brows furrowed in concern.

“What do you consider a fantasy?” he asked, letting his curiosity get the best of him. You just stayed in silence and studied his face, your brows still furrowed. “I’m not mad,” he clarified, making sure his voice sounded calm enough. 

He was telling the truth. Mad was not the correct word to describe his feelings. He was a little worried that he wasn’t satisfying you, so he was worried. He wanted you all to himself — soul and body, especially body — and he wanted you to moan how much you belonged to him, so he was possessive. He didn’t even want to think about the possibility of another man finding the weak spots he worked so hard to build, so he was jealous. But mad wasn’t one of them.

You sighed, taking him out of his musings, and you answered sheepishly. “I like roleplaying,” you whispered. He hummed in acknowledgment and changed the subject.

But that night still ran through his mind every time you had sex, and in the ride to that bar he replayed that scene over and over again. He had to know what you were like, who you were, when you didn’t want to be yourself.

That was enough to give him back his confidence in his idea. His curiosity got him into this mess, and it was that same itch that would get him through it. 

The slick wood arches over the bar were the first thing to catch his eyes when he entered. The low light above the tables and booths complimented nicely with the black leather chairs. The live band wasn’t half bad with the smooth jazz. 

The atmosphere was sexy. He picked right.

He sat on a bar stool and asked for his favorite drink.

“A manhattan for me, please,” he heard a familiar voice say, and he turned around to fall in love with you all over again. 

Your smile was big when you looked at his face, and you opened your mouth to start talking, but Namjoon was set on making this night special from beginning to end. After all, he didn’t let you in on his plans for a reason. He wanted to see the desire and lust in your eyes when you realized his idea. Another thing he was curious about. 

“Hello, stranger,” he started, offering his hand. When you accepted it, he took it to his lips, planting a sweet kiss there. “I must be pretty lucky to have such a beautiful face sit right next to me.” 

“Thank you…” you said. Your tone of voice gave away your confusion, bending at the end, making it sound like a question. Namjoon guessed you were trying to understand his strange behavior.

“Does your pretty face come with a name?” he continued. He was amused by the many emotions running through your face, but he hadn’t quite reached the one he wanted to see the most yet.

“What?” you asked.

“Oh, no worries. I don’t mind a little mystery.” he leaned towards you and took a sip of his drink. “My name is Namjoon by the way. I hope I get to know you better this evening, angel.”

Jackpot. 

Your face lit up with understanding, and a sly smile adorned your face.

“You sound intriguing, Namjoon.”

“I could say the same thing about you.” he winked and was pleased when you bit your bottom lip. He made sure the bartender knew he’d pay for the drinks and made a move to leave. “I must leave now. But if you want to have the time of your life, here’s where to find me,” he said. 

He handed you a card with the name of a club and some cash for the Uber. “I’ll be waiting for you, angel. I know you won’t disappoint me.” he said, leaning closer to your face and inhaling the scent of your perfume. “Your name is on the list,” he whispered to your ear, before planting another kiss to your earlobe.

Arriving at the club was easy enough. The waiting for you to show up was almost a torture device. 

Did he do it right? Did you feel controlled, like he was dominating your decisions? Were you turned on by the idea? At the end, after he handed you the card, was the glint in your eyes just residue from the surprise? Or did you feel your stomach flutter, much like his own heart was beating out of his chest?

The possibilities were endless.

But it was like you had a neon sign pointed directly at you. He could see your face as you looked for him in the crowd. He took a sip of his drink. Should he go after you, or should he let you find him? He twitched in his seat, his leg bouncing. He must do something. 

But alas, there you were.

Eyes still filled with fascination. Your lips parted as you two made eye contact, and Namjoon watched you in awe. Shoulders back, and hips moving side to side, inviting him to glare, to stare, to inappropriately lick his lips. He watched every second of your hands as they ran through your body, touching all the places he knew you liked to be kissed. Your neck, your navel, the curve of your hips.

Dancing for him. A show just for him. Other people get to watch and envy him. But he’s the only one that can touch.

Intimacy be damned. He liked this fantasy better.

You curled your fingers, inviting him to dance. He didn’t have to think twice. 

He didn’t recognize himself. The Namjoon of yesterday wouldn’t do such a thing. Too timid to dance like this in public. To grab his partner by the waist and ogle at his favorite body parts. But you changed him. Reached his genetic makeup and twisted it to your liking.

He liked it too.

He didn’t last more than a song underneath your touch. Your hands ran upwards through his body, but before they could reach his neck and fist his hair, Namjoon was already kissing you. It was urgent, it was inappropriate, it was too damn sexual. He was sure he’d leave the club with a boner.

His tongue unceremoniously intertwined with yours, and his hands grabbed your ass with fervor. You weren’t so cute either. Namjoon remembered you were in a public setting when your hands reached the front of his pants.

He stopped your search, holding your wrists behind your back. 

“Not here, angel,” he said, panting.

“I know where,” you offered, twisting your wrists so you’d be hauling him around the club.

You reached the bathrooms, and you shoved him inside before a line could form behind you. Before he could ask about your intentions, you pushed him against the wall, kissing him again. He allowed himself to go further, biting your neck and leveraging his position to grind his groin against your abdomen.

“Fuck, I can’t take this,” you said, dropping to your knees and opening his zipper. 

His cock was already hard when you wrapped your mouth around him. He moaned your name repeatedly as you massaged his length in synchronicity with your lips. He moaned even louder when his tip reached the back of your throat. Your gag reflex made your throat even tighter, and he wanted to scream your name.

But of course you had to surprise him, using his length to slap your face and tongue, and putting pressure around his base. And that was enough for him to be overwhelmed by his instincts. He grabbed a chunk of your hair with one hand and secured your jaw open with the other, inserting himself in and out as he pleased.

He thrusted his hips once more, as far as your mouth would allow. He wanted to feel your throat closing around his tip again. He only let you up for air after you tapped his thigh. But he wasn’t done being rough. The trail of saliva left between his dick and your tongue inspired him even further. 

“Open your mouth,” he demanded, his voice almost an octave lower, and you obliged with a smile. He spit on your tongue before placing his testicles inside your mouth. Between the warmth of your tongue and his agile hands, he was close. “Fuck,” he moaned, inserting his dick in your mouth one last time before climax overpowered him. “I want to see you swallow it,” he asserted, already adjusting his pants.

You did as he asked and opened your mouth showing your tongue to prove it. Your smile was as big as he’d ever seen. If he knew you’d be this wild, he wouldn’t have been so reluctant to comply with your wishes.

“Good,” he said, taking a deep breath and helping you get to your feet.

Before you could say anything, or even better, go home to finish the night, there was a banging on the bathroom door.

When Namjoon opened it, he was met with a security guard, followed by an irritated manager.

“Oh, goody,” the manager said, taking a look around Namjoon to find you hiding behind him.

“Would you two please step aside? The bathroom is off limits from certain activities. I’m gonna have to escort you out of the premises.”

“Sure, that’s no problem.” Namjoon didn’t turn around to look at you. He just squeezed your hand as you two walked out of the club, but he knew your whole body was burning from embarrassment. “Well, there’s a story to tell our grandkids,” he joked once you two were on a cab headed home.

“If you tell them any of this, I will slowly poison you,” you threatened. “But I do need to tell them how amazing you are in all aspects,” you gushed, hugging his neck. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Anytime, angel.”

[theunholybastard]

Kinktober: October 8th - Praise (Frater Imperator x Female!Reader)

Tags: Light Dom/Sub, Established Relationship, Self-Esteem Issues, Mentions Of Death, Praise, Body Worship, Oral Sex, Riding, Light Possessiveness, Unprotected Sex, Cumshot, Aftercare, Fluff And Smut, 2nd Person POV

Copia stares blankly into the mirror, fiddling with the cuffs of his newly tailored suit. It hasn't been long since his recent promotion, and since Sister Imperator... He still couldn't think about that for long without crying, so he decided it would be easier to bury his grief. He was able to avoid the anguish and anxiety that was slowly eating away at his very core for months, but now that he was seeing himself in the uniform, it's all he could think about.

He almost didn't recognize himself. Change wasn't easy, he already knew that very well. When he first ascended to Papa, he struggled way more than he let on, despite how he prepared for this moment pretty much his entire life. But now the role of Papa, everything he's worked towards for decades, is gone; now what? It's bad enough he had to give up his beloved title, that's fine, he'll get over it, but at the cost of his mother? He couldn't handle it.

A tear escapes his eye, quickly wiping it away with a leather-covered thumb, smudging his eye paints. He sighs frustratedly, smoothing the fabric of his jacket. No matter how much he adjusts himself, he can't seem to look quite right. Everything about this feels wrong. As he sniffles, wallowing in his self-pity, he hardly notices you entering the room, coming up behind him and putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"You look very handsome." You coo tenderly, running your hands up and down the fabric of his new suit, familiarizing yourself with the feeling. Copia smiled, snapping back to reality at the comforting feel of your soft hands, subconsciously leaning in closer to your addictive touch.

You were always there for him, there to encourage and support him through his transition from Cardinal to Papa. You always knew how to soothe the endless pit in his stomach. But despite the years you've been his rock, he worried that this time might be different. But surely you didn't just love him for his status and power. You wouldn't just stop loving him now that he wasn't Papa, you weren't like that... right?

"You flatter me, amore..." He teased, but the playfulness that was usually in his voice was noticeably faltered as a different type of self-consciousness slowly crept over him. "You... You really like it?" He asks hesitantly, his eyes searching yours for even a hint of dishonesty.

"You know I go crazy for you whenever you wear a new suit." You flirt, biting your lip as you look him up and down slowly, like an animal staring down a piece of fresh meat. Copia chuckled, remembering the way you looked at him when you first caught a glimpse of him in his Papal robes. It was a mix of desire, barely contained arousal, and worship, the memory pulling a sly smile from his lips. "Do you like it, Copia?" You asked, tone dripping with concern, causing his heart to sink. It was both a blessing and a curse, to not be able to hide his feelings from you.

"I..." Copia swallows against the lump forming in his throat. "I don't... I don't know, honestly. I should be fine. I've known this was coming for a long time, but still, I just... It doesn't feel right. I mean, come on, 'Frater Imperator?' That isn't who I am." He answered, his voice barely above a whisper. You nod along, appreciating his honesty. You reach your hands up to cradle his face, pulling him closer to you and rendering him unable to avoid eye-contact.

"You're right; That isn't who you are." You say, catching him a bit off-guard. Where were you going with this? "You aren't Frater Imperator. You aren't Papa. You aren't a Cardinal. You're Copia, just Copia. Whatever title you have at any given moment, it doesn't define who you are, it doesn't change you. You're still the same man. You're still the man that I love." Copia's breath hitched at your words, his eyes widening and welling up with unshed tears.

"Your mother would be so proud of you. I'm so proud of you. You're going to get through this, you're going to be fine, like you always are. And I'll be right here next to you, every step of the way." Your kind words trigger the tears to flow from Copias eyes, exhaling shakily as some of the tension in his shoulders loosen from the gravity of your words. You'd really love him no matter what form he took, wouldn't you?

Copia suddenly pulled you close, burying his face in your hair. He breathed in your sweet scent, relishing in the comfort you always provided him. You hugged him back, letting him hold you for however long he needed, running your fingers through his hair soothingly. "I love you, I love you..." Copia murmurs, his voice soft and shaky. "Ti amo, tesoro. Più di quanto tu possa mai sapere..."

You kiss his cheek, your arms wrapped around him like a protective shield. "I love you too, Co-Co. So much..." You mutter, trailing your kisses down to his neck; an innocent gesture at first, but each little kiss lingers for just a moment longer than the last. Copia shivered, the sensation of your lips against his sensitive skin igniting a familiar heat in his gut. Your grip on him tightens, your bodies pressed so tightly together that the two of you are practically melting in each others hot embrace.

"Will you let me show you how much I love you, Copia?" You whisper breathlessly in his ear, your voice dripping with lust. He groaned softly at your words, relishing in the feeling of your body pressed against him, stirring a primal desire within. The last time the two of you were intimate together was before his last show. Since then, it's been complicated, to say the least, caught up in the stress of his new promotion and his mothers passing. It's been a long time, too long. He didn't even realize how badly he needed this, how badly his body had been craving satisfaction, until now.

"Amore..." He gasped shakily, his voice strained with need. "Please…" Your lips were on his in an instant, clashing together feverishly as your fingers tangled in his hair. His hands clutched at the fabric of your clothes, his body responding instinctively to your touch. The room seemed to grow warmer, the air crackling with tension and desire. Copia was completely lost in the moment, his focus narrowing to you, and nothing but you.

You push Copia onto the bed, climbing on top and straddling him, toying with the buttons of his suit, desperately trying to get his clothes off as quickly as possible. He watched you unbutton him, the intensity in your eyes and the hunger etched on your face sent another jolt through his body. He inhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling rapidly as you undressed him with an urgent need. He reached up, tugging at your own clothes as well.

"Mmm, amore..." He breathed, his hands roaming over your body, groping whatever part of you he could. "You're driving me crazy..." Your eagerness was both thrilling and overwhelming, Copia's heart racing as you quickly removed his clothes. Every touch, every graze of your skin against his sent a wave of electricity through him, he was nearly in tears once again. "I know, baby, I know..." You purr, yanking off the final piece of his clothing: his boxers, exposing his already half-hard dick.

"Look at you, my sweet boy..." You coo, trailing your hands over every inch of his body, taking your time to truly admire the sight before you. "So beautiful, so perfect. My perfect boy, hm?" You lower yourself down, kissing all over his soft, squishy belly that you've grown to love so much, trailing your kisses lower and lower until you reach his twitching cock. He gasps as you take it in your mouth, moving up and down on his length, sucking him to full hardness.

His hands fisted the sheets, throwing his head back with a groan and spreading his legs as an invitation for you to continue your ministrations. His eyes close tightly, a familiar feeling starting to build up within him. Knowing he's about to cum, you stop, pulling your mouth off of him, causing him to let out a low, guttural whine, protesting the sudden halt of his pleasure. His body instinctively arches towards you in search of more contact, eyes snapping open to look up at you in confusion.

"W-why'd you sto-" His words catch in his throat as he watches you straddle his hips again, only to impale yourself on his shaft. Copia's reaction was immediate and involuntary, his hips bucking up against your touch with a sharp gasp. You moan in sync with him, starting to ride him at a rhythmic pace. "Fuck, Copia! You're so b-big! You always reach so deep inside me, make me feel so fucking g-good..." You whine, a particular slam of his cock hitting the back of your pussy causing the both of you to cry out.

Copia was completely at your mercy, lost in a haze of divine pleasure and ecstasy. Copia was used to being underneath you, having you dominating and controlling him, but this felt different, softer, gentler. No rules or punishments, no slapping, biting, scratching, no degradation. As much as he loves being ruined by your sadistic wiles, this is exactly what he needed right now. Not fucking, but making love.

Copia's noises were whiny and pathetic, his back arching off the bed slightly as the waves upon waves of pleasure washed over him. His hands clutched at your hips, his knuckles turning white as he tried to control his body's reactions to no avail. "Mmm, more," he panted, his eyes closed and his mouth slightly agape. "Please, I need more, I need you."

"I know, Co-Co. I need you, too. I've missed this, m-missed how good your perfect body makes me feel. How hard you make me cum." You huff, bouncing faster on his dick. "You're everything I've ever wanted, Copia. You're perfect for me. You're mine. All fucking mine." You cry sweet praises, moaning pornographically as you ride him into oblivion.

Copia's breathing grew more ragged with each stroke of your cunt, his mind growing clouded by pleasure. Your words, the possessive claim you made on him, send a shiver through his body. He looked up at you, his mismatched eyes dark with lust, his face flushed. "I'm yours," he heaved, the words punctuated by a sharp gasp. "All yours."

It isn't long till Copias whines and whimpers grow louder and more labored, hips bucking up to meet yours wildly, all signals that he was close. He taps your thigh in warning, and with that, you lift yourself off his cock, allowing him to finish all over his stomach, ropes of cum shooting impressively far, nearly reaching his chest. He sighs, thoroughly satisfied, his body relaxing, save for the occasional twitch.

You grab a few tissues from the nightstand, cleaning up his cum- covered self to the best of your ability. Before you could kick back and cuddle up next to him, Copia sits up and grabs you by your hips, pushing you onto the bed, clumsily positioning himself between your legs. "Now it's time to make mia bella ragazza cum, too..."

His tongue delves in your hole, devouring you like a starved man. The tip of his nose rubs deliciously against your clit, and the mixture of clitoral stimulation and the frantic flicking of his tongue has your orgasm hitting you within minutes, already sensitive enough from his cock. Once he's had his fill of your cunt, he plops down beside you, the two of you laying side by side.

Copia lay on his back, a light sheen of sweat on his bare chest, panting. He turned his head to look at you, a ditzy, fucked-out smile on his lips. "I missed that..." he said, his voice raspy. He reached out to take your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. You nod, panting along with him, sweat-dampened hair sticking to your forehead uncomfortably. "Me too..." You agreed.

Copia turned onto his side, shifting a little closer to you. He moved a hand to push a strand of sticky hair out of your face, his touch gentle and tender. He studied your face, taking in your flushed cheeks and slightly disheveled appearance. It made his heart surge with affection. "I've been pushing you away, haven't I, amore?" He smiles sadly, his heart twinging with regret for how he's been handling things as of recently. You frown.

"Honestly? You have. But I don't blame you at all for it, not one bit. You just lost your mother and your title, you've been mourning. It's okay that you needed space. You've been going through a lot, my love..." You squeeze his hand reassuringly. Copia sighed, his brow furrowing slightly as he squeezed your hand back, dissatisfied with himself.

"I just... I didn't want to burden you. I know I'm not the most stable person, and with everything happening... I wanted to protect you from everything happening in my silly old mind." He kisses the back of your hand earnestly. "But not anymore. You are the last person I want to be dishonest with, to push away. Not now, not after everything." He assures, looking down at your intertwined hands, focusing on the feeling of your skin against his. This is all he wants. This is all that matters.

"Besides," He grumbles sleepily, pulling your body close to his for post-coital cuddles that he so dearly missed. "You have taught me I am more than just a title, no?"

-

[obxthornton]

Wine Drunk and Breakups

Summary: Drunk texts and unopened wine

Warnings: Violence, Blood, Hints at an abusive relationship, Alcohol

WC: 2279

I was drunk, very drunk actually. I sat on my couch, the music from my TV blasting throughout my apartment. I never actually meant to get this drunk, I just wanted one glass of wine, just one. However, I was now trying to open up my third bottle and I had broken the corkscrew. I also never actually meant to text him. I hadn't even thought about my actions until after I had already sent the text. Nevertheless, my wine was still very important. A knife was stuck into the top of the cork as I tried to wobble it back and forth. My fingers were wrapped around the neck of the bottle as I worked the knife. I let out a small cry as the knife slipped, slicing one of my fingers. I groaned loudly, dropping the knife on the ground. I was never going to drink this.

The door to my apartment flew open, slamming against the wall next to it. I screamed at the noise, turning to look at who the intruder was. Oh god, I did text him. Logan scanned the room in high defense mode before turning to me on the ground. His leather jacket was hanging off one of his shoulders, his hair messy.  "what the hell lo!" I yelled motioning to the hole that was now in my wall. "What happened? Are you okay?" He asked coming over, he scanned my body for injuries, his eyes landing on the finger dripping blood onto the ground. I huffed as logan grabbed a paper towel and handed it to me, "Are we just going to ignore the huge fucking hole in my wall? You owe me." I huffed wrapping the paper towel around my finger. I grabbed my bottle of wine, hugged it in my arms. "ill fix it- You texted me saying you were in trouble, what's wrong y/n?" Logan looked at me concerned. I huffed and looked at the bottle of wine I was cradling in my arms, "I can't open it." I heard Logan's breath hitch, "what?" he growled loudly. I sighed, "I broke the bottle opener. I can't open it." I repeated. Logan let out an annoyed breath, rubbing his face, "You texted me SOS I'm in a huge mess please come and help, and sent me an audio recording of you sobbing and begging for my help for this. This!" Logan yelled at me. "I would have asked someone else if I knew you'd act like this. All miserable with your own life and stuff," I mumbled picking at the cork of the bottle. Logan crotched down to my level and snapped his fingers at me so I would look at him, "Are you actually serious Y/N? I thought you were hurt. But no, you're just drunk." He huffed. I narrowed my eyes at him, "I know, you would only help if it was buried in your conscious if you didn't. And I'd like to be alittle more drunk if you could open this stupid bottle." I huffed, picking up the knife and jabbing it into the cork. Logan looked at me like I was insane, his mouth slightly open, one eye squinted alittle. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he huffed. I shrugged, "lots of things."

Logan rolled his eyes and stood up next to me, rubbing a hand over his head. "why didn't you just ask your boy toy." he said motioning his hand to the bedroom. I worked the knife into the cork, groaning in annoyance as I watched the knife break off the handle. "He broke up with me last week," I stated, pulling out the blade from the cork and throwing it to the other side of the kitchen. "What?!" Logan yelled, his claws coming out by accident. I smiled and took my wine bottom, jamming it upwards onto the Adamantium, letting the claw pierce the cork. I pulled down and the cork popped out, stuck on the man's claw. I took the bottle to my mouth and drank a long, deserved drink. Logan grabbed the cork and threw it on the counter before retracting his claws. He crouched back down to my level, grabbing the bottle from my hands, and holding it tightly by the neck. "Y/N, what do you mean he broke up with you?" I reached for the bottle but he moved it just far enough away so I couldn't grab it. I huffed and fell back against the cabinets. "He has a new girlfriend he just needs a place to stay for a while so he's still living here," I huffed staring at the wine bottle, "Can I have it back now?" Logan stood up, rubbing his mouth with his hand and shaking his head. "I'm going to kill him." He said to me, eyebrows raised,   "I'm going to kill him!" He yelled throwing the bottle of wine against the wall. The bottle shattered into a million little pieces and dark red wine coated my apartment. "Logan! What the hell!" I stared down at the liquid that had started to seep toward me, it soaked into my socks turning them into a soggy mess. Logan was mumbling words I could not hear, and I just stared down at my socks. Weirdly, they had been a Christmas gift last year from my partner, soaked in the wine we had bought to drink on our anniversary. Two drops of blood dripped onto the sock, soaking in another shade of red. I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand, revealing a streak of blood. 

My lip quivered lightly and all the emotions of the day finally hit me, as well as the alcohol and lack of. Sober me would curse myself for crying in front of logan, he hated tears, more importantly, girl tears. "Oh god," Logan muttered as a quiet sob came from my lips. I brought my knees up to my chin and buried my face in them, wrapping my arms around them. I cried lightly into them thinking about how stupid and oblivious I had been in my relationship. "Y/N." Logan said lightly, his voice coming from right in front of me. I choked back a sob, sniffling as I looked up from my knees. Logan was crouched in front of me, a solemn and awkward look covering his face. His eyes scanned my face, looking at the cut that had been dripping blood down my forehead. "Come on let's get you cleaned up." He said holding out his hands. I slowly reached to grab them and he helped me stand up. When I stood up, he pushed my shoulders lightly to turn me around before he picked me up and sat me on the kitchen counter next to the sink. He grabbed a cloth and the first aid kit that was under my sink. He grabbed a pair of tweezers and started removing the few small pieces of the wine bottle that had embedded itself in my forehead. "I didn't mean for you to get hurt." He said in a quiet voice, "I'll clean up everything." He ran the cloth under warm tap water before dabbing it on my forehead, cleaning up the drops of blood. I stared blankly behind Logan, my eyes heavy and dull. He finished up cleaning the cuts, searching my body for any more. He removed the paper towel from my finger and dabbed around that cut as well. "Logan?" I said softly. He hummed in response looking up at me. My lip quivered lightly, "why doesn't he love me?" I asked the question and it felt like the tears instantly ran down my face. Logan sighed as my head fell forward, my forehead resting on his chest as I cried. His hand found the back of my head as if to hold me to his chest so I wouldn't sit up. "I don't know."  

-

I had sobered up in the last hour alittle and calmed down from my overflow of pushing all my emotions down. I was now on my couch, wrapped in a blanket, with the TV playing calm peaceful guitar music. My face had been stained with mascara but Logan had wiped them with the cloth as well. Logan hadnt left yet. He sat in the chair, fingers laced together as he stared straight ahead. "you don't have to stay lo." I said quietly. He raised a finger at me, his head cocking slightly as if he was listening. He closed his eyes and exhaled through his teeth, "oh brother." he muttered. I looked at him confused before I heard the front door open and slam shut. I froze at the noise, my eyes already threatening to release more emotions. My eyes darted to Logan who was already on his feet. "y/n!" My ex-boyfriend called, his car keys dangling as he threw them on the kitchen counter. "yah" my voice cracked lightly as I answered him. He walked into the living room looking at something on his phone, "I need the apartment for the night." He stated, looking up from his phone at me. He did a double take, now looking from me to Logan. My ex laughed, "of course. Of course, he's here." He scoffed at me shaking his head, "I always knew you were fucking him." I shook my head trying to convince him, "It's not like that, I never cheated on you. Logan is my friend, you know that." My ex chuckled hands on hips, he stopped laughing and slammed his open palm on the couch arm. "You were always a whore y/n. I had to drag guys away from you because you'd always put on a show for them. But you never cared about any of those guys, you cared about him. Tell me y/n, tell me you like him." The tears were starting to pool in my eyes, "I don't! I only ever liked you, you know that baby." He shook his head, "Liar! You know how much I hate liars Y/n." 

At this point, the tears were running down my face. Logan had stood up now, a dangerous look on his face. "No No No." I babbled out standing up and putting myself in between Logan and my ex. My hands were on Logan's chest as if that would stop him from pushing past me. "please Logan please don't do this. Please don't hurt him." I begged the man. Logan wasnt looking at me, simply at the man behind me, "Go home, Logan. I'm okay, I'm safe." He looked down at me, searching my face to see if I was believing what I was saying. "yeah go home bud. Don't worry, I'll give her back when I'm done with her." Logan's eyes went wide and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, letting my head fall. He pushed past me and walked towards my ex, pushing him by his shoulders into the wall. My ex laughed, "You can have her man. No need to fight over her. If you want a needy, emotional, bitch then by all means she's yours." Logan had the man cornered against the wall, his back towards me. I heard the sound of Logan's claws coming out causing me to go wide-eyed. His arm came back and he quickly shoved his claws right next to my ex's head, into the wall. The other set of claws was brought to his chin holding his face up to look at Logan. "The only reason I don't rip you apart right now is because she doesn't need to see that." He said in a quiet voice. "But trust me when I say, I have never wanted to shred someone as much as I do right now." Logan laughed coldly. "What I want you to do is grab your keys, and leave. If I ever see you in this neighborhood, this town, hell this state. I will kill you, do you understand? And, if I ever see you speaking to y/n or even looking at her, or god help us, you lay a single finger on her or raise your voice, I will rip you apart and have you wishing you were dead." His words were laced with venom. "I know how much you hate liars so I want you to know I will hold this like a promise." I watched as logan pushed the man's face away with his claws before pulling the others out of the wall. "Now get the hell out of here before you piss me off again." My ex made eye contact with me, his face laced with an emotion I wasnt sure about, before grabbing his keys off the counter and going out the door. Before he shut the door he waved a finger at the both of us, "You both are psycho, you guys deserve each other," He huffed before slamming the door. Logan rubbed his hand over the three holes in the wall where his claws had sunk in, "can fix that too." I walked up to him, wrapping my arms around his waist, and burying my head into his chest. "Thank you, Lo." He slowly wrapped his arms around my back, his head resting on my head. He placed a kiss on my head before he put his hands on my cheeks and made me look up at him. "I would never let anything happen to you okay?" He said, "I'll always be there." I nodded slightly. He sighed placing another kiss on my forehead before wrapping his arms back around me. "you are safe."

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Twist of Fate; Chapter Eight

Pairings; LADS OT4 x reader

Word Count; 2,969 (nice)

Themes; isekai, eventual smut

Rating; 18+ for swearing and some mature language

Notes; Last chapter for the weekend, so I hope you all enjoy it! Also, the first of many Sylus-centric chapters. I'm a Rafayel girlie at heart, so it feels wrong to have so many Sylus focused chapters, but it feels like Sylus needs a lot of chapters since he has a lot of good scenes.

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Masterlist

Don't forget to check out my ideas for the future to see what other plans I have for this story and any future ones I plan to write! Also since I accidentally posted seven early, I might as well post eight early as well and then I'll do nine later on today as a treat! 🩷

The next time you wake up, you're in the back of a van with your hands tied together. Your head was pounding, your mouth felt drier than a desert and you could taste something metallic on your tongue. You really didn't even want to open your eyes because of the pain, but you do take a few mental notes. The smell of cheap leather and that the van was still moving, be it shaky and rickety. You're most likely on a dirt road or a road that hasn't been used in some while.

Even though the man threatened to inject you with the neurotoxin, you really thought he'd at least keep his word and not go through with it if you didn't fight, but it seems like he did anyway. Good thing you took the inhibitor Xavier gave you.

Even though it's dark inside the vehicle, you notice your jacket is off to the side but your watch and your guns are missing. Possibly in the vehicle somewhere. As you think of a way to get out of this mess, you notice the man is talking on the phone.

“I took a big risk snatching prey from the Nest. The reward needs to be better than that.” You try to look and see what the man looks like but he's wearing a black cap and a mask over his mouth, though you can at least see his hair. It's not white so he's not the man you're looking for.

You begin struggling with the binding on your arms, trying your best to make them even a little bit more loose.

“You sure this is right? I've driven down this same road three times. I'm not going anywhere.” You hear the man sigh before the van makes a noise. “Just my luck. The car broke down all the way out here..” He angrily opens his door to step outside before he opens the back of the van. “Get out. We'll wait here.” He grabs you by your restraints and pulls you out of the van. You take the chance to look around at your surroundings hoping to see anything familiar but it's dark out.

He all but throws you to the ground on your already injured knees and you hold back a hiss between your teeth. “Not a soul to be seen..Just an abandoned yard. Hurry up and send someone over.” The man was still on the phone.

You notice dead trees, a metal fence that seems to have been broken before, large boulders and rocks. This place seems more like a graveyard than anything. Your gaze turns to a dirty cobblestone structure nearby, you assume it used to be white but its more of a cream or light tan colour now.

“You're wide awake, huh. Guess you're a tough gal but I'm warning you, don't try any trick on me. You hear? I'm not against hurting a woman.” The man scoffs, clicking his tongue as he brandishes a pocket knife and taps it against his palm. “So you're just a middleman. Are you working for people in the N109 Zone?” You ask with a raised brow, putting on a tough act.

“Shut up. Let me inspect the goods before I hand you over.” His voice was cold as he points the knife at you. “Where did you hide the aether core?” You can't help the laugh that bubbles from your lips, finding it amusing that he's looking for something intangible. He'd have to cut it out if he really wanted to 'inspect the goods'. Though before you can say anything else, you hear another voice.

“Kidnapping Onychinus’ prey without letting us know..Wow, that's not exactly polite now, is it?” The disembodied voice sounded amused and taunting.

“Who's there?” Your masked kidnapper quickly pulls you to your feet, holding the pocket knife to your throat as he looks around. Seems like he's panicking. But Onychinus? Hmm…so it seems like they weren't the ones who kidnapped you.

“She's ours, by the way. We called dibs a long time ago.” and then, seemingly out of nowhere, the man's hand gets cut.

You flinch and the man drops you from the sudden pain in his hand. You fall to the ground once more, scowling at the pain in your legs before sitting down on the ground so as to not hurt your bloodied knees anymore. Maybe a skirt was a bad idea… You turn back to look over at your kidnapper who was now on the ground as well, holding his arm.

Your eyes widen as you notice two masked men appearing from red and black smoke. “I'm really curious..She's brave enough to drink from a black glass.” One of the newcomers twirls a knife around in his hand before resting his foot on your kidnapper's back. The other man starts walking toward you. “I wonder what will she do when backed into a corner?”

The masked man kicks your kidnapper to the side, taking a few steps toward you and that's when you notice they're both wearing a full black mask with a hooked beak. You can't see their eyes or anything. They have their hood up and it seems like there's tiny red horns on the top of the hood. “You're pretty bold for releasing information about the aether core in the Nest like that.” The one with a piercing through his left horn says and the other, who has one through his right, leans his whole upper body to the side. “Explains why boss is interested.”

“I see…So Sylus sent you.” The man on the ground laughs as he rises up to his knees. “But the aether core….is mine!” He suddenly pulls out a gun from behind his back and aims it directly at you before shooting.

The smell of gunpowder fills the air as you flinch back with your eyes closed. Though, you don't feel any pain. Instead, when you open your eyes, you see the man covered in a dark crimson and black mist. His actions constricted and the bullet, so close to your face, wrapped in the same mist before it disintegrated the bullet as if it were never there. The fog wraps around the man's hand, causing him to drop his gun before it swells up around him, wrapping around his neck and lifting him into the air. The mist swirls around him, almost seeming like it's working its way through his body until the man…explodes. Or at least that's what you think.

You see no blood, only the smoke slowly falling down toward the ground as if it's job is done. Then you notice that the two men in crow masks are walking away. It seems their part is done so that must mean…your gaze is brought back to the cobblestone structure, there's now a person standing on top of it with their thumb looped through their belt loop. The sound of a large bell chiming in front of a seemingly red moon.

You now realize your binds are undone, you could leave at any time but you're paralyzed with fear. You haven't been sure what to expect for awhile now and you honestly thought you'd be happy to see Sylus for the first time but, in fact, it's actually terrifying.

A crow caws, flying through the sky until landing on his shoulder as the man on top of the wall reabsorbs his energy with a stretched out hand. He then steps toward the edge of the wall and disappears in a swirl of that same coloured mist before appearing a few steps in front of you.

“Take out the vermin that are still running amok.” The white haired man says, his voice a deep timber that you'd usually be freaking out over but right now you're freaking out for an entirely different reason. The men in the crow masks echo a ‘yes sir’ as Sylus slowly walks up to you. Once he's in front of you, he tilts his head to the side with a scoff.

“You're…also here for the core, right?” You manage to say, trying your best not to look at him because he's hot, but also scary. He crouches down, leaning a bit forward as he says, “Even if you wanted to sell your soul, you still have to find someone who can pay the price.”

He reaches down to grab your chin, lifting your head to look at him. “Look at me.” His voice void of any emotion, even though his facial expression was rather soft. “You-” you flinch as his right eye begins to glow. Voices that you feel like shouldn't be here begin chanting in your head. “Devour him..” They echo. "Take the power.”

Your head begins to pound as blood rushes to it. You suddenly look down and your hands are bloody. “Take it…” “Just…kill him.” You want to hit your head, you want to tell yourself this isn't real because you know it isn't. You're confused and your head hurts and you try to look away from him, realizing something is wrong with his eye.

Your hand darts out to grab the dropped pocket knife and you find yourself cutting Sylus’ cheek, the black and red energy holding your wrist in place so you can't cause anymore damage.

He chuckles, amused by your actions. “Is this how you greet a new friend?” He swipes his thumb across his cheek, the wound disappearing as if it were never there. “I guess you don't remember anything.” He says as he brings his hand up to brush his knuckles against your cheek. “Allow me to jog your memory.” His hand goes further down before wrapping around your throat. That's when you begin to panic, grabbing his wrist with your free hand. “Let go of me.” But your attempts are weak at best.

With his hand around your throat, he makes you look back into his eyes. “From your past to your future…to even all of the crimes you'll inevitably commit. After all, you and I… were the same. True kindred spirits.”

You've must've blacked out because the next time you come to you're on the ground. “Three days. Yet we're unable to achieve even a simple resonance. How disappointing.” You hear Sylus before you see him. Three days? How come you don't remember any of that? You wince and turn your head to look in his direction, noticing that he's sitting with his legs crossed on a plush red chair. It almost looks like a throne.

With a wave of his finger, his evol wraps around you and pulls you toward him. “What do you want?” You ask, exasperated and you're almost to the point of giving up. Especially when you don't know what'll happen next or even what path is the safe one. You tug at the energy wrapped around you but your hands go through it like smoke until you find yourself in Sylus’ lap. Now any other time, you'd be throwing a party about being in a hot man's lap but right now? You're not sure how to feel.

“You went through all that trouble to enter the N109 Zone. I must fulfill my duty as your host.” He says before he uses his evol to lift your arm up, his fingers dancing along the soft skin of your wrist before making their way to your tightly closed hand. His index finger trying to wiggle its way under your fingers before he adds a bit more pressure, using his evol to pry your hand open. His palm pressing flat against yours before he intertwines your fingers and pulls your connected hands to his chest. His eyes closing as he tries to force the resonance. “Stop-” you try to pull your hand away but his energy evol keeps your hand and your body where he wants it.

The voice in your head coming back to rear its ugly head. “Devour him…He's yours..” You get that, you get that he's hot and all, but do you really need to devour him? It's not like he's yours either- “He's right there..before your very eyes.” Damn okay voice, chill. Thirsty much? “His..” “eye..” the voice is cutting in and out, you can only hear a tad bit of what it's saying until the energy dissipates with a tiny flash of light. The resonance worked?

Sylus scoffs, looking at the light dancing across his hand, “It's a shame your evol has deteriorated into its current state.” You take a deep breath, trying to steel yourself and you throw some bait out. “My family's deaths…You're behind them, right?” If he's a love interest, you know there's no way he is but you have to, at least, act that way to find answers. “Family?” Sylus chuckles to himself, “The people closest to you might be the ones who want to kill you the most.” Your brows furrow at that. Huh, that was a theory you never thought about. But who?

Wait, act angry. Right…uh say something, anything. “Shut up! Right now, I just…I just..” your head begins hurting again, “I just want to kill you myself!”

What? That's not what was meant by “say anything” but alright.

You flinch as soon as the words leave your mouth. You didn't mean to say that, did you? Though as you're unable to control your actions, Sylus catches your hand. “Do you think your evol will help you in a fight against me? Your courage is admirable.” He pushes your hand away with an unamused expression. “You're lucky I don't like picking on the weak, kitten.”

…what?

Before you have any time to dwell on what he just called you, he holds his hand out and uses his energy to pull something toward him. One of your guns lands in his hand. “What're you doing?” You ask, a bit nervous at the firearm held firmly in his grasp. He makes sure it's loaded, cocks it, and then holds the gun out to you. “Didn't you want my life? Or do your words just ring hollow?”

Ah shit, here come the voices again. “Kill him.” Wait, the voices didn't want you to fu- Nevermind that, you really don't want to grab the gun but it's out of your control. Your hand moves on its own, taking a hold of the gun and even your mouth moves on its own. “You think I won't do it?” You hold the gun up to his head, internally screaming and pleading to not let this happen because it would be a shame if you were the one to kill such a handsome man. “Now…that's much better. Though, you do owe me a curtain call grander than death itself,” Sylus muses, wrapping his fingers around the muzzle of your pistol as he slowly brings it lower and presses it against his chest as your hands shake.

“I..” “Why're you trembling? Has your resolve already begun to falter? You weren't just bluffing, were you?” He tilts his head to the side and you honestly want to yell at him and ask if he's crazy or thinks he has nine lives or something but you can't since whatever mysterious power you have inside of you is still controlling your movements. “No, of course not. It's just..” you trail off and he slowly moves his hand down to wrap around both of yours on the gun. “Want some help? Yes? No? Maybe so?”

He's so hot, he's so-

Bam.

You…you shot him? You actually shot him? Are you sure you won't regret this later? That's actually like crazy that you shot him just now. Well- it's not like you had any part in it. You couldn't control your actions to begin with..

Darkness.

Darkness is all you see. You felt so…hungry. So empty. Anything would be great to fill this emptiness you felt inside.

“Devour him..” Shit the voices were back. “Its…your power.” It was probably Sylus’ power, but pop off voice.

You weren't sure how long you had to endure the voices but they finally went silent. Leaving you in the dark, alone. It almost…felt cold.

The ending is a bit abrupt, so I'm going to apologize up front for that- I honestly didn't realize just how cut it was since it lines up pretty well with the next chapter. You'll have to wait to see that next week though, unless I end up feeling excited enough to post chapter nine early! 🤔 Either way, I hope you liked the comedic turn I took with the second half of the chapter. It was too good to pass up. Also, I tried something different with the paragraphs. I added double spaces between specific, important ones and just the standard singular with everything else. Let me know which you like between (between chapters 6-8 and I'll start doing them like that in the future!)

Anyway, if there's any spelling errors and stuff like that, then that's on me. I've re-read all of these chapters so many times and re-worked so much of it, but I'm bound to miss some errors so hopefully it's not too bad!

Taglist; @orphicmeliora

[miasmaghoul]

Ooh, I have an idea! Dewther or perhaps even Dew/Aeon human au...but Aether/Aeon is a bona fide psychic and Dew is a hard ass skeptic. Pretty please. -🔔

(Literally none of these are three sentences so far, what is wrong with me. No warnings for this one, aside from some mild language.)

"Bullshit," Dew scoffs, leaning his chair back to balance on two legs. "You don't really expect me to believe this crap, do you?"

Beside him, Aether rolls his eyes.

"Ye of little faith," he chuckles, nudging Dew's knee with his own. "I'm telling you, Dew, he's never wrong."

Across the small table, in a haze of incense smoke, sits a young man whom Dew would be hitting on in any other situation. He's handsome in a boyish way, with dark, shaggy hair and sparkling eyes in a color Dew can't quite parse. Something between blue and gray, he thinks. He has a few facial piercings - his lip, his septum, his left eyebrow - and Dew can see the edges of tattoos peeking out from the sleeves and collar of his hoodie. He hasn't stopped smiling since they entered his shop, and Dew is pretty sure the kid hasn't stopped looking at him the entire time.

"Whatever," he says with a dismissive wave. "He's probably about as accurate as that fortune cookie I got last week."

Across the table, their supposed psychic chuckles. He scoots closer and leans on his elbows, cupping his own face in both hands, and something about the look in his eye makes Dew straighten up in his chair.

"What're you so scared of?" He nods at the table, a slew of tarot cards laid out before the three of them. "That I might be right?"

Dew barks out a loud ha, shaking his head and slinking out of his chair.

"About what?" He doesn't even try to keep the incredulity from his voice, and Aether stares at the carpet. "You say I'm gonna 'run into someone unexpected'," he mocks (complete with air quotes), pointing at a card most definitely not associated with that particular prediction. "That it'll 'help to open my eyes'." Another scoff. "I got news for you, kid - I can see just fine."

He shrugs on his leather jacket, tossing his hair over his shoulder. He looks down his nose at the reader, and his disarming grin sets Dew's teeth on edge.

"C'mon, Aeth," he grumbles, tugging on his shirtsleeve and nodding towards the door. "Let's get outta here. I'm getting metaphysical cooties."

Aether rolls his eyes and offers the reader an apologetic smile. He doesn't seem put out in the slightest though, unfolding himself from his own chair and sauntering back behind the counter. Dew doesn't spare him so much as a second glance as he heads towards the door.

"I'll be right out," Aether calls, and Dew waves over his shoulder when he shoves the door open.

The crisp autumn air fills his nose, chasing away the sickly scent of incense as he sucks down a lungful. He fishes a crumpled packet of cigarettes from his pocket as the door creaks shut, and a sudden breeze makes him turn to his right in an effort to cover the flame of his lighter.

"Behind you," a cheery voice calls just as the door slips shut, and Dew's shoulders go tight. He spins on his heel with every intention of storming back inside and -

"Fuck!"

Dewdrop slams directly into the only other person on the street - a stern looking older woman, in a black pencil skirt and matching blazer - stumbling backward as he feels something cold soak into his shirt. His back hits the shop window and he stares down, blinking at the dark brown stain now marring the fabric of his tee. The one day he wears white.

"Watch where you're going," the woman scolds him, grimacing at her now mostly empty coffee cup. "What a waste," she huffs, tossing it into a nearby trash can. With one last withering state she struts off down the sidewalk, heels clicking against the cobblestone path, and Dew feels himself getting redder by the second.

He slips back into the reader's shop, wincing when the chime rings out. At the counter, the pair of them are staring at him - Aether's eyes sit wide, darting between Dew's ruined shirt and flushed face. The reader still wears that same smile, and he gives Dew a little finger wave.

"Guess you should've kept your eyes open," he teases, and Dew stares daggers at him.

Aether doesn't make a sound as he finishes checking out, silently paying for the reading and a couple of crystals that had caught his eye. Dew doesn't stick around to see what the damage is, storming out once more and heading to the car.

This time, he looks both ways when he leaves, and the little chuckle he hears from behind the counter makes him feel like an absolute fool.

He only sits in the car for a few minutes before Aether appears, fruitlessly attempting to daub the coffee from his shirt with a handful of takeout napkins. He grumbles under his breath when Aether gets behind the wheel, and holds up a hand when he opens his mouth.

"Not. A. Word."

Aether holds up both hands in concession, sticking his bag in the back seat and turning over the ignition. He pauses for a moment with his hand on the gearshift, and with a sigh pulls out his wallet.

"Here," he says, offering Dew a small white rectangle. "Just in case."

Dew eyeballs the little piece of cardstock like it'll burn him on contact. With a heavy sigh he abandons his attempt at cleaning up, grabbing the card from Aether's hand and really fighting the urge to huck it out the window. In the back of his mind, though, the rest of the reader's so-called predictions repeat themselves, and Dewdrop sighs as he looks at the business card.

On the front, in simple block lettering, it reads:

Aeon, Psychic for Hire

Dew blinks. One name? Who was this kid? There isn't even a business name or phone number, nothing. He flips the card over, incredulous, and finds one more line of text:

Don't worry, I'll call you.

The moment he finishes reading, his phone chirps, and Dew jolts so hard he drops the card. Aether snorts beside him and Dew throws a coffee-damp napkin at his face. He fishes out his phone with a scowl - he knows it's another coincidence, just like the woman with the coffee must have been. He's going to look at his phone and see a text from Rain or Swiss, or maybe just some notification he doesn't give a shit about.

Or he could see a single line of text from an unknown number, staring back at him like some kind of cruel joke.

A clean tie attracts the soup of the day. :)

"What the fuck..."

"Hmm?" Aether looks over as he shifts into drive, pulling out into the quiet street. "What's up?"

Dew stares at the screen until it goes dark, and then shoves his phone back in his pocket. He slouches in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest and staring out the window while Aether talks about the crystals he picked up.

Dew doesn't hear a word of it. He can only think about the fortune cookie he got last week, the little slip of paper still stuck to his fridge because it made him laugh until he cried:

"A clean tie attracts the soup of the day."

His phone chimes again, and Dew does not look at it.

[ivystoryweaver]

Happy New Year, Jake

Happy Rosh Hashanah to the Moon Knight system

Pairing: Jake Lockley x gn!reader

Word Count: 820

Content: Fluff, slight feelings of unworthiness, mentions of food, alters mentioned, brief reference to past trauma, mentions of religion and religious practices, not beta'd

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

You asked Marc and Steven if you could do this.

Celebrate something with Jake.

Marc had some happy memories of holidays - Passover meals - finding the afikomen and getting a few dollars for it. The food, the wine, the prayers, the traditions.

Hanukkah wasn't quite as big of a holiday, but there were presents and dreidel to play and latkes to eat.

There were candles to light and services to attend.

Then, one day, there was no more happiness.

Steven's memories were spotty at best, but they were happy. His heart was rooted in the traditions of those before him.

But Jake had none of this. He was a shadow - a creature of the night. He had only been in your life for less than a year.

Jake was a difficult man to get to know. He preferred to keep to himself, but he was soft for you - that, he could not fight.

You didn't want to ambush him, or even surprise him. You asked his permission.

"Could...do you think we could have a little dinner for New Year's?" You asked him one night, moonlight spilling across the bed as you drew circles on his bare chest with your fingertips.

"New Year's?" He gruffed out, confused. "In September?"

"Rosh Hashanah," you supplied. "You know...the new year. If you want. I wanted to make you dinner - just something nice."

Jake's calloused hands scratched lightly down the curve of your back. "Not sure, mi vida. Better ask - "

"I did," you interrupted. "Marc's not ready yet and Steven is okay skipping this year - at least the dinner so you and I can share it. Only if that's okay with you. It doesn't have to be anything you're uncomfortable with."

The stubble of his chin tickled the skin of your cheek as he whispered back and forth with you.

"Okay. Yeah. I...I don't know exactly what I'm supposed to do, but...sure."

You were excited, having hoped Jake wouldn't turn you down.

You prepared a savory meal - doing most of the work the night before. You set an elegant yet simple table, with your best dishes, a tablecloth and your grandmother's silver.

A round challah loaf sat on her silver serving platter. You prepared apples and honey to symbolize the hope for a sweet year. You also served pomegranates and some vegetables. You made some brisket for Marc to eat later. Wine glasses and water glasses were set appropriately. You were ready.

You put the finishing touches on the table just as Jake emerged from your bedroom, straightening his tie. Jake was no stranger to wearing a tie or looking absolutely dashing at any given moment.

But this was something else. Instead of his typical leather jacket, he wore a dark suit jacket. Noticing your blatant stare, he ran a hand over the stubble of his jaw.

"I think this is like a...proper dinner," he attempted, sounding a little like Steven. "This too much?"

"Jake," you breathed, floating toward him. "You look incredible." Placing your hands on his muscled chest, you leaned in and brushed your lips tenderly over his.

"Shana Tovah," you wished him, motioning for him to have a seat at the table. But he pulled you back to his side, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple.

As you sat down to enjoy your holiday meal, your heart burned within your chest each time Jake seemed uncertain about what exactly to do. The last thing you wanted was make him uncomfortable, or make him somehow feel less...Jewish? Than Steven or Marc.

You only desired for him to be who he was. But you wanted him to feel a part of his history too, if he was comfortable.

"You okay?" You quietly asked, watching as he dipped his apple slice into the honey.

He paused, his warm brown eyes going wide. "Did I do something wrong? Is there like a prayer?"

"Jake, you can't do anything wrong. This is for you. Just...be with me." You reached across the table and squeezed his hand, watching as his shoulders relaxed.

"This is nice, baby," he spoke up after a few minutes. Leaning in, he made sure to catch your eye. "It's really nice. Thank you...for thinking of me."

You smiled warmly. "Of course, I'm always thinking of you."

You shared your special meal and some traditions together, feeling so warm inside and so grateful for this man of yours. When you got up from the table, he pulled you close and told you how amazing you looked.

"Gotta dress up like this again so I can take you out," he roughly whispered against your ear while holding you against him.

Easing back, you brushed your fingers along his jaw. "You mean 'take me out' a date, right? And not...your nighttime job?" You teased.

"Very funny," he mocked, scooping you up into a hug, where you stayed for a while, content in his arms.

"Happy new year, baby," he whispered, feeling like he belonged.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[silent-stories]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐑 - 𝟏𝟎 (𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞)

Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader

Summary: Aaron moved out and you and Eddie are together and finally, truly happy.

Part 9

"How long do you think this campaign is going to last?" You asked Wayne sitting next to you on one of the benches in front of the trailer as you waited for Eddie to come back.

"Sometimes it takes two hours, sometimes three, sometimes four... I really can't give you an answer, kid. That boy is unpredictable when it comes to that game." He brought a cigarette to his lips.

It had been a week since Aaron had left Hawkings, you saw Eddie every day at school and almost every afternoon at your house or in his trailer and you often spent the night in his arms.

Things were going well, Eddie was pretty sure he was going to finally graduate and you were about to get a job at a new shop that just opened in town.

"He loves you, ya know?" Said the man sitting next to you blowing a cloud of smoke out of his mouth. "He doesn't talk much about his feelings but I think you're the first person he's loved so much."

"Oh trust me, I know. He shows it to me every day." A slight smile formed on your lips just as a van came into your sight and parked in front of the trailer.

Wayne made a gesture with his hand towards Eddie getting off the van "Speaking of the Devil..."

"Hey sweetheart, sorry I'm late." He placed a quick kiss on your lips as he reached you, basically ignoring his uncle sitting next to you.

You giggled.

Too sweet for the Devil. You always knew that.

The sky was lit up with what seemed like hundreds of stars and the moon was shining almost full.

You and Eddie were lying on the roof of his trailer, your eyes were up at the night sky and you were cuddled up next to him, your head was on his chest and his leather jacket was wrapped around your shoulders because you had left yours in the trailer and neither of us wanted to go down and get it.

"Are you sure you're not cold?" You asked raising your head slightly towards Eddie.

"I'm sure." He muttered. "And you look too good in my jacket to take it back."

You rolled your eyes before your gaze fell on Bones as she walked with one paw after another on the edge of the roof of the trailer, staring intently ahead.

When you'd left your house to go to Eddie's she'd followed you and jumped into the passenger seat as if she knew you were going to see, now clearly, her favorite person.

You'd been trying to get her out for at least ten minutes but after she dug her nails into the seat and hissed at you, you gave up and decided Eddie would have an extra guest that night.

"What if she falls?" Eddie asked suddenly, you understood he was referring to the cat that was walking next to you.

"She has nine lives and always falls on her paws." You knew Bones wouldn't fall, she often climbed trees in your garden and sometimes even on the roof of your house via the balcony and she was always able to get down and stay alive.

"But it's cute that you worry about her." You added with a slight smile on your lips.

"She's my girl, of course I worry about her." He commented, a slight playful note in his voice because he knew what you would answer.

"Your girl? I'm your girl!" You exclaimed dramatically, exaggerating on purpose.

Eddie chuckled, his fingers found your hand and, and after grabbing it, he brought it to his lips to leave a kiss on the back of it. "You are."

"Mh, that's better." You said bringing his hand to your chest to play with his fingers and draw imaginary circles on the back of it.

You usually did that to calm him down when something was wrong, he was upset about something or someone made some redu comments about him or your relationship, or before a test he absolutely needed to pass so he didn't have to repeat the year again but eventually it became a habit.

"Shooting star, make a wish." You pointed up where something glowed making a trajectory across the sky.

"I'm pretty sure it was an airplane or something." He chuckled.

"Don't ruin the moment!" You exclaimed again. "Make a wish."

Silence fell between you and you lifted your head towards him, his gaze was already on you. "I have everything I need right here."

"Well, that was cheesy. Not metal at all if you ask me." You rolled your eyes knowing he was watching you, just to annoy him.

"Well, sorry if I'm trying to be a good boyfriend!" Eddie tried to sound angry but the huge grin on his face couldn't go away. He loved to bicker with you like that sometimes.

Your look softened. "You already are."

He didn't hesitate to imitate your tone.

"Well, that was cheesy. Not metal at all if you ask me."

"Oh, come on!" You exclaimed in exasperation and Eddie couldn't help but burst out laughing before wrapping a hand around your waist and if possible pushing you even closer to him. "I love you, you know that right?"

"Will you tell me I'm cheesy if I tell you I love you too?"

Eddie looked at you for a few seconds, as if the fact that there was a possibility that you loved him too had caught him off guard. "No, I won't."

You placed a hand on his cheek, pushing him towards you to make your lips meet. "I love you too."

He smiled with his mouth so close to yours that you could feel his breath on your lips, his eyes were glittering thanks to the moonlight that was bringing out the golden hues in them.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have really pretty eyes?"

Eddie hesitated for a moment. "My mom always did."

"She was right." A soft smile appeared on your lips.

When he finally kissed you, you realized you hadn't made a wish either. You didn't need it.

Your lips had to part as something jumped on Eddie's chest and he burst out laughing, resting his head on the roof.

"Bones! Get off my boyfriend!"

"Aww... someone is jealous."

"Are you talking about me or the cat?"

"Both of you."

"Eddie!"

"Don't worry, I love you more."

Eddie ran his two ringed fingers through Bones' fur as she purred, sniffing his hair curiously.

"Maybe."

"I heard you!"

The trailer was silent and almost completely dark when you rolled out of bed as Eddie was in a state of doze, his head resting on the only pillow on his bed and his curls scattered around his face.

His arm wrapped around your waist, ready to push you back against his bare chest before you could stand.

"Where are you going?" He whispered.

"I gotta go to the bathroom for a second, I'll be right back."

He didn't answer but his arm dropped onto the mattress after he softly caressed your side.

Your feet walked silently through the different rooms of the trailer and when you returned to Eddie's bedroom, you didn't see the desk that you hit with your arm, knocking over a notebook.

You glanced over at Eddie who seemed to be sound asleep and reached down to grab what had fallen.

When you pulled it up, a sheet fell out of it.

Before placing it back in the notebook, your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at the page.

Two stikman were on the left, one with curly hair and both smiling, the others on the other side of the paper had angry faces and smoke was coming out of their ears.

You smiled at the memory of the day you produced that awful drawing during a boring class while trying to get Eddie to come to Aaron's party.

Your smile only widened at the thought that although months had passed Eddie hadn't thrown away that drawing and he kept it in the middle of a notebook, safe.

You folded it up and put it where you got it before crawling back into bed next to Eddie and wrapping your arms around him, resting your head on his chest.

"Goodnight Eds." You murmured, thinking he was already sleeping.

Bones jumped onto the bed, looking for a space between you two to settle down.

"Goodnight Bones."

"Eddie!"

He giggled before placing a kiss on your forehead.

"Goodnight sweetheart."

It's been a lot fun writing this series, thanks to everyone who has read up to here! <3

Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat @michaelfuckinglangdon

Love you from afar tags: @capitanostella @enam3l @saramelaniemoon @ang3lb44by @einkitty @themorriganisamonster @esme-viridian @daisyridleyyyy @whenshelanded @eggo-segual @comfortcharactercraze @callmeyn @expiredcum21 @unholyyylita @squidscottjeans @twilight-love-nochu-main @idkatee @bakugouswh0r3 @amira0303 @greatpizzascissorstaco @ebonybloom @emxxblog @lunaryasha @cherryobx @jasminelafleur @magicalchocolatecheesecake @tracymbcm @harrypotter-imaginees @eli-flower @mrsjellymunson @tttttttttttts-things @miabiar @wayfaring----stranger @princess-eddie @omgshesinsane @littlestarfighter03 @zoeymunson @tanyaherondale @bl4ckt00thgr1n @thebook-hobbit @eris-rose-86 @ly17 @jenuhlyn @ximi1315 @avocadotoastwithegg @lomljigg @urdad-hot @1paire2vans @praline357

[pleaktale]

My request: Hobie and late night motorbike rides with an s/o who has sensory issues and finds motorbikes loud so is scared at first but Hobie convinces them not to be? 💕

AAAH!! Thank you for the request love! rider!Hobie my beloved 🥰 I locked in witht his one, hope you like it <3 Word count: 1.1k Warnings: sensory issues talks Tags: bike rider!Hobie x gn!Reader, Reader has sensory issues, no description of Reader, fluff, hurt?/comfort, lovestruck Hobie because we need him, no mentions of Y/N Enjoy ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

The cold night air brings you back to your senses, your mind drifting off to all the things that could go wrong in this simple ride at midnight, but Hobie was quick to notice your fluttering eyes.

“You alright, love?” he asked, fingers gingerly tracing down your arm while he held your helmet. “I know that face…” you smile, he could always read your mind with a simple look. You fill in your lungs, arms hugging yourself, “Just… I don’t know about the noises, what if it’s too much?”

Hobie gives you a small grin, placing back the helmet atop the passenger side of his motorbike, his hands now cupping your face gently. “Listen love, ‘m not some bloke with deafening engine, I assure you that.” His words pull a chortle from you, head leaning into his palm, seeking his warmth since it was pretty cold in London.

“How 'bout we take a ride around the block, hm? Test the waters?” he offers, eyes sparkling at the sight of your almost cat-like move, his smile growing to the sides. “Would you ride with me?”

You sigh softly, of course you’d ride with him. Forever and ever if life would let you, if the universe wants it that way, you’d have it anytime. But the fear was also there. With a leap of faith in the man in front of you, you nod, brushing off your thoughts for the moment. “Alright, to test the waters,” you reply, voice small and a little unsure, which he obviously noticed.

“I’ll go slow, no need to go a hundred miles per hour right now,” he laughs quietly, shaking his head a little before beckoning closer to you, “’m not trying to scare you, love. I want you to enjoy this as much as I do, if it’s not your thing, then it’s not your thing.”

You give an upside-down smile, the frown present on your face from the urge to cry - not for a bad reason, actually the opposite. You laugh at his frowny face after seeing your frowny face, feeling warm engulfing your heart after his gentle kiss to your forehead. “You’re always making me emotional over the most mundane things,” you mumble with a smile, giving a soft nudge to his chest which he accepted with a chuckle.

“Hey you, now,” Hobie goes back to stare at your eyes, his gaze shining under the moonlight and yellow lights from the street, “your sensory issues are not mundane, I know the world sometimes can be too much for ya, so I want to make it jus' right if I can.”

You can't help but peck his lips quickly before he could go on and have you crying your heart out from love in the middle of the night, at your front door. “Okay, Mr. Love of my Life, I want to ride with you,” you reply, hands tightly holding onto his leather jacket for good measure. His face melting into a soft smile after your newly created pet name had you swearing to love him until the end of the world.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he whispers back, pecking your face all over until your giggles filled his heart. Stopping to grab your helmet once again, Hobie gently places it on your head and locks it in place. “Ready, peng ting?”

“Ready,” your smile was worth a thousand suns to him.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Your wrapped your hands around his torso, not a single air passage through the both of you, you made sure to hid your face between his hair and shoulder. He hadn’t even started the engine yet but could tell your nervousness by the way you held onto him. His hand snaked down to yours, wrapping his fingers around your own. “Remember to breathe, love,” his muffled voice reached your ears, your grip softening just a little to not squeeze him to death.

“I am breathing,” you reply, looking at the road, “I think.” He chortles, shaking his head. “'s all good, I’ll go slow, no need to be so afraid of. And if you want to hop off, just squeeze me real tight, a’ight?” he looks back at you through the rear view mirror, giving you an eye-smile.

You breathe in, giving back the same eye-smile to him. You nod, caressing his hand with your thumb for a moment. “Alright, I can do this,” his smile shining bright as he slowly let go of your hand, holding the handles. “That’s my love right ‘ere.”

Hobie starts the engine, the sound not so loud as you thought it would be, the helmet muffled most of it. You thank whoever created helmets like these. He takes off, now both of you riding in two wheels, he wasn’t going fast but you still held onto him like a lifeline - might as well use the excuse to have him so close.

“How’s going, lovie?” Hobie asks with a louder voice, you smile from the adrenaline starting to seep into your blood, laughing in response. “It’s.. great!” you shout back, giggling as he went a little faster, taking the first turn around the block.

Hobie can only display his biggest smile, glad that you were actually enjoying it. “Glad to hear it!” he shouts back, taking another turn, his hand quickly getting off the handles to give a gentle squeeze to your own, a small “I’m here with you” gesture. You kept the smile on your face, staring at the houses passing by and giggling to yourself, which Hobie watched with glances through his mirror.

He speeds up at the last bit of the ride, the wind in your face, brushing through your eyelashes and clothes, bringing this lively sensation to your body, mind going blank for a moment. Then Hobie slowly stops at your front door once again, watching over you as he pulls the prop stand.

“So… How was it?” he asked, watching your sparkling eyes still processing all the emotions and feelings. “It was- it was fun! I-I liked it!” you replied, looking at him with a bright smile, shaking his shoulders lightly from the adrenaline still wearing off. Hobie gave back the same bright and goofy smile, so happy for you getting over your fears and sensory issues.

“I told ya,” he replied, taking in your hands above his shoulder, and pulling you forward for a hug that you quickly gave back, squeezing him tight. “Wanna try it again?” Hobie asked, looking back at you, “I think you’ll love to go through the London bridge at this hour.”

Your eyes shine at his suggestion, thinking about it for a mere second before nodding eagerly. “I think I can try,” you reply, hugging his torso once again. “Thank you,” you whisper into his shoulder, words striking a chord into his heart.

“No need to thank me, love,” he whispered back, bringing your hand to his lips over the flipped up shield of the helmet, kissing your knuckles gently, “you did this on your own, came over your fears, and I’m glad you did.”

TOOTH ROTTING HOBIE MY BELOVED! Thank you for reading, until next time <3

© pleaktale

divider credits goes to @/cafekitsune

[serialkilluh1996]

Pull Through

Randy Meeks x gender-neutral-Reader

Warnings ➛: Angst/Mentions of gore/ that's all, really. It's angst. Cry about it(wink wink).

(⑅⎚=⎚)Author's note: This is old as hell and I pasted it from my Wattpad.

Don't you regret being so stubborn? Don't you wish you hadn't been saved?

You sat in the beige leather chair of the cold hospital room, the eerie sound or heart monitor beeping at a slow but subtle pace as Randy laid there, an IV sticking through his arm and oxygen tubes in his nose.

You reached out with slight hesitation, grabbing his hand. It was cold, and somewhat grainy. Like he hadn't moisturized recently. You rubbed your thumb across his palm repeatedly.

He'd been stabbed over ten times, and the doctor stated that he more than likely wouldn't pull through. You prayed he would make it, begging silently that Randy wouldn't be taken away from you.

You looked at his face. His eyes were closed, lips slightly ajar. God, you could just kiss him. Why... why'd he have to be a hero? Why did he sacrifice himself ro save you?

"Why didn't I listen?" You thought to yourself. Randy warned you countless times. He warned you not to drink, not to party, not to answer the phone.

But it was your way or the highway. Now Randy's got a good chance of being on the highway to heaven.

"It's not fair that he had to pay for my mistakes." Your grip on his hand tightened. A single tear fell down your face. It felt soooo warm. That tear felt like a blanket to you after being that damned hospital room for so long with no jacket.

It reminded you of a subtle, but meaningful memory of you and Randy.

As you sat on the couch together, Randy put a piece of popcorn in his mouth, a scratching his goatee. "That guy is toootally the killer. I mean, look at those shoes." He rolled his eyes.

"What's wrong with them? I think they're cute." You defended the man kn the screen. "Pfft. You think Harry Warden is cute." Randy scoffed. Randy noticed the goosebumps on your skin, pulling you in close to him,  your sides touching with warmth. "What are you doing?" You asked, looking up at him.

"You looked cold. I'm trying to warm you up." He answered, sticking a warm, buttery piece of popcorn in your mouth. You couldn't deny how good it felt.

"Why didn't you just turn on the heat?" You questioned. "Because," He stuffs half a handful in your mouth "It gives me a reason to cuddle with you." He said quite forwardly. It caught you off guard to say the least, but your mouth was full of popcorn, and by time you'd swallowed all of it, it seemed to late to respond.

The memory simmers in your head, replaying like a VHS. It made you feel bad in a way. The fact that Randy felt the need to have an excuse cuddle you. You knew how much he liked you, but you always teased him about it and friendzoned him whenever the chance was given, in which he would never complain.

Now, here he is. Dying in order to save your life. The waves of guilt rushed through your body, and more of those thick, warm tears of guilt ran down your face.

You never believed him when he set all these rules. You always thought something like this could never happen to you, and yet, it did. Like some sort of reality check to inform you that bad things could happen to anybody.

And it made you think. If such a terrible attack could take place, then there's nothing to say that Randy would pull through. That he would survive this. You didn't like the thought, but you couldn't shake it.

You lay your head gently on Randy's chest, his natural scent coursing through your nose. He smelled so...Randy. a smell you can't describe, but you loved it.

"I'm so sorry, Randy..." the words slowly turning from a whisper to whimper, followed by pitched sobs. "I'm so sorry. Please, don't go." You sniffled, wrapping your arms around him as his slow, hollow breathing continued.

"Please, don't leave me." You begged him as the tears flowed down your face, no longer warm and comforting, but wet and cold.

"I promise I'll listen. I'll be good." You sounded like a child begging for some sort of treat.

"It's okay,.....you gotta lose a game every once and a while to get good at it." His voice was weak, but soothing. Like a hug. Randy couldn't hug you in this state, so you were willing to settle for the hug.

You sat up quickly, planting kiss on the corner of Randy's lips, letting a tear transfer from your face to his mouth. You wiped it off with your thumb, hugging him gently as to not agitate his wounds.

"This gives me an excuse to cuddle you..." you chuckled, sniffling a little.

"You... don't need an excuse.... I'd give you every hug I have left and... you don't even have to ask for it." He tries to speak through the pain.

"Don't talk Randy. Just rest. I promise, when you get out of here, I'll hug you every hour, every minute, every second I see you. I love you, Randy." You sniffled, holding on to him as his body progressively got warmer.

"I love you too, ☆☆☆." You could swear Randy was about to cry if he had the strength.

You can support me by liking, commenting, reblogging, and cashapping me @fundsbrownie. Donations are optional, but much appreciated.

[octuscle]

Now open under new management

Edward Parker III let the car window down a crack. Peter, his driver, had switched off the air conditioning to save fuel. The fuel gauge was basically at 0.00. Here in the middle of nowhere, they had no mobile network. The last Google message was that a petrol station would appear at some point. And Peter claimed that it should open in five minutes. Open from 10:40 am. Strange opening times. Edward's stomach grumbled. Something had gone wrong at breakfast. The car urgently needed a petrol pump. And he needed a toilet just as badly. Then, like an oasis in the desert, a building appeared in the middle of endless cornfields and pastures full of stupidly staring cattle. It was 10:39:50 a.m. when Peter steered the car onto the dusty filling station with the last drop of gas. At 10:40 sharp, Edward yanked open the car door and jumped out. And the moment his spotlessly clean Oxfords touched the ground, the neon sign flashed. Open!

Edward ran towards the small store where the neon sign was shining. He was far too focused on not wetting his pants that he didn't notice the leather soles of his shoes turning into a sturdy rubber tread. As he pushed down on the door handle, he got something like an electric shock. He didn't care. The store was empty. His palm became calloused. His fingernails black. There was a door at the back, labeled "Private". Hopefully there was a toilet. Thank God the door was open. And thank God there was a toilet. In the middle of a room full of tools, car tires and packages. It stank miserably. But Edward didn't care at all. He had already undone his belt while running, he opened his trousers, pulled them down and dropped onto the dirty toilet seat at the very last moment. And he had to shit like never before in his life. The stench was overwhelming. But the relief was immense. Edward finally relaxed again. But only for a second. Then his eyes fell on the dirty rubber boots that went well above his knees. Inside, pulled down as far as they would go, were a pair of completely filthy jeans. And what was even more irritating: his right hand was the hand of a construction worker, the cuff of his shirt had disappeared. And the fabric of the right sleeve of his jacket was getting coarser and dirtier from bottom to top and the color was slowly changing from navy blue to a kind of beige. What the hell was going on here? Even greater than the panic was the disgust at the stench. His left hand, still freshly manicured, reached for the toilet flush. And he was hit again. He watched in panic as his fingernails became dirty and the calluses moved down from his fingertips. Edward's gaze fell between his legs. That wasn't his circumcised shaved penis. That was a cheesy, hairy cock. Much bigger than it normally was. Edward had to get out of here! He hastily wiped his ass. A tight, hairy ass, sitting there on a familiar toilet seat. A man needs a good place to shit. Hehehe, this was a good shitter. Stumbling, Edward stood up, his head spinning. He looked in the mirror. That was still his head. But the rest? His crisp white collar and tie knot vanished into thin air, revealing a hairy, muscular chest. The last remnants of the finest navy blue wool on his left upper arm disappeared and the transformation of his jacket into a dirty, much-worn, rough work jacket was complete. I look like a fucking redneck, were his last thoughts before he grew a badly trimmed goatie, his $100 haircut turned into a self-cut buzzcut that he hid under a bandana he hadn't washed in a long time.

Loud honking from outside. "Damn, I've been shitting! Can't you wait?" yelled Edward. He wiped his hands on the dirty cloth stuck in his pants. Hand washing was for city wimps. He stepped into the yard of his gas station.

Hehehe, he knew the filthy and dented truck standing there at the pump. "Pete's services of all kinds" was written on the door. And Pete was hanging in the cab with a visible bulge. "Eddy, don't you always promise the best service at your station," Pete said with a grin. Ed spit out the chewing tobacco and licked his lips. "Go ahead, gas station attendant. The belt buckle won't open by itself!"

Full service and guaranteed customer satisfaction. That's what Ed's gas station was famous for.

Inspirations found @pitstainsandpas and @fanofshoes44