#private label jeans

[oliviasfashion]

How can one locate apparel manufacturers for private label clothing when launching a new branded line?

To find apparel manufacturers for private label clothing, start by researching online platforms such as Alibaba, Thomas Net, or Maker's Row.

[raheel05-blog]

Finding the Right Manufacturer Near Me in Canada: A Guide for Entrepreneurs and Designers

Finding a reliable manufacturer for your clothing line is one of the most critical steps in bringing your designs to life. If you're in Canada, you might have searched for a manufacturer near me to find a local partner who can help you create your products. Fortunately, Canada is home to a range of reputable apparel manufacturers that cater to diverse clothing categories. Whether you're looking to produce custom streetwear, luxury apparel, or eco-conscious clothing, there are numerous options available close to you.

Why Should You Look for a Manufacturer Near Me?

The idea of working with a local manufacturer in Canada comes with several advantages that can significantly improve the success of your clothing line:

1. Reduced Shipping Times and Costs

Local manufacturing helps to eliminate long shipping times and expensive international freight charges. You’ll benefit from shorter lead times, meaning your clothing line can be produced and distributed faster, allowing you to reach your customers with greater efficiency.

2. Increased Communication and Collaboration

Having a local manufacturer allows for easier communication, with the opportunity to schedule face-to-face meetings or quick check-ins over the phone. This close collaboration ensures your designs are realized exactly how you envision them, with minimal miscommunication or misunderstandings.

3. Supporting Local Businesses and Economy

By choosing a manufacturer near you, you help support local Canadian businesses and contribute to the national economy. You’ll also be able to make a positive impact in your community, which can be an attractive factor to potential customers who value locally made products.

4. More Flexibility in Production

Local manufacturers offer more flexibility, whether you’re looking for small-batch production or large-scale runs. This is particularly important if you are a startup or if your designs are seasonal, requiring frequent changes or adjustments.

Types of Apparel Manufacturers Available in Canada

When you search for a manufacturer near me in Canada, you'll find various options tailored to different apparel needs. Let’s take a look at some of the most popular types of manufacturers you can consider:

Custom Streetwear Manufacturers

Streetwear is one of the most popular fashion categories, with designs that reflect urban culture and individuality. A custom streetwear manufacturer near you can help you create bold, unique designs for t-shirts, hoodies, sweatshirts, and more. Whether you're creating custom graphics or embroidered designs, Canadian manufacturers specializing in streetwear are experienced in producing high-quality, trendsetting clothing.

Luxury Clothing Manufacturers

If your brand aims to create high-end fashion, working with a luxury clothing manufacturer in Canada is essential. These manufacturers specialize in the production of premium garments, using top-quality fabrics, specialized techniques, and attention to detail. From tailored suits to fine eveningwear, Canadian luxury manufacturers can provide craftsmanship that ensures your brand’s exclusivity and sophistication.

Activewear Manufacturers

With the rise in fitness and wellness trends, activewear is a booming market. A local activewear manufacturer can help you create functional, comfortable, and stylish workout clothes for both men and women. Whether you're producing leggings, sports bras, or athleisure wear, Canadian activewear manufacturers are equipped with the right technology and materials to meet the demands of this growing sector.

Sustainable and Ethical Apparel Manufacturers

Consumers are becoming increasingly aware of the impact fashion has on the environment and society. As such, many brands are turning to sustainable apparel manufacturers to produce eco-friendly garments. Canada has a growing network of ethical fashion manufacturers, offering options such as organic fabrics, eco-friendly dyes, and fair-trade production practices. If your brand is focused on sustainability, working with a local manufacturer that prioritizes ethical standards can boost your brand’s reputation and appeal to conscious shoppers.

Plus-Size Clothing Manufacturers

The demand for inclusive fashion is on the rise, and many Canadian manufacturers specialize in plus-size clothing. These manufacturers have the expertise to create flattering, comfortable, and stylish garments that cater to a diverse range of body types. Whether you’re launching a line of plus-size fashion for men or women, Canadian manufacturers can help you create designs that make all customers feel confident and empowered.

Children's Clothing Manufacturers

When designing children’s clothing, it’s essential to partner with a manufacturer who understands the importance of safety, comfort, and durability. Children's clothing manufacturers in Canada focus on creating clothing for all age groups, from babies to teenagers. They ensure that all garments meet safety regulations and use gentle fabrics that are comfortable for young skin, while still offering the style parents are looking for.

How to Find the Right Manufacturer Near Me in Canada

Now that you understand the benefits of working with a local manufacturer, the next step is to find the right partner for your brand. Here are a few steps to guide you:

1. Do Your Research

Start by searching online and reviewing manufacturers' portfolios. Read customer reviews, explore their past projects, and get in touch with them to discuss your needs. This research will help you narrow down options that align with your brand’s values and production requirements.

2. Request Samples

Once you've shortlisted potential manufacturers, ask for samples of their previous work to assess the quality of their garments. This will help you gauge their manufacturing capabilities and ensure that their standards meet your expectations.

3. Discuss Your Specific Needs

Reach out to manufacturers and discuss the specifics of your project. Whether it’s about custom t-shirts, luxury clothing, or eco-friendly activewear, make sure the manufacturer understands your design vision, fabric preferences, and desired quantity.

4. Visit the Facility

If possible, arrange a visit to the manufacturer's facility. This is a great opportunity to meet the team, inspect their production processes, and see firsthand how they work. A personal visit will also help build trust and strengthen the relationship between your brand and the manufacturer.

5. Evaluate Costs and Lead Times

Lastly, make sure to evaluate the cost and timeline for your order. Ensure that the manufacturer can deliver the products within your desired time frame and that the pricing fits within your budget, especially if you are just starting your brand.

Conclusion

Choosing the right manufacturer near me in Canada can significantly impact your brand’s success. By selecting a local manufacturer, you gain access to faster production times, better communication, and the opportunity to support local businesses. Whether you’re producing custom streetwear, luxury clothing, or sustainable apparel, Canada offers a diverse range of manufacturers to meet your needs.

[thomsonsharon347]

4 Ways To Sport The Classic Jean Jacket Without Fail

Are you looking to level up your game of denim jackets? Want to impress people around you? Reading this blog will definitely be a help then

[bywons]

DREAM GIRL — LHS

SYPNOSIS ► being single for too long doesn't suit the playboy lee heeseung of decelis university, especially when he's about to attend his best friend's brother's wedding. but he promised his friends of his promiscuous nature, that he'd stop this when he'll find his dream girl. but what if she's too hard to get and ignorant? lee heeseung is not used to that.

or where, lee heeseung tries to let go of his playboy tendencies to get a hold of his dream girl.

GENRE ► smau (+ written), fake dating, stangers to lovers, non-idol au, college au, crack, fluff, romance, angst, hurt/comfort

WARNINGS ► SLOW UPDATES age gap (heeseung is 1-2 years older than reader), all the characters are in college, cursing, de3th jokes, kys jokes, cheating allegations, alcohol consumptions + more tba

PAIRING + CAST ► playboy! lee heesung x f! reader ++ all of enha, ningning (aespa), haerin and minji (new jeans), kazuha (le sserafim) and other cameos

STATUS ► OH HOLD ( started : 30/04/24 ended : ??/??/?? )

SRU'S NOTE ► all my moots influenced me (fomo) to write a smau tbh 💀 plus these days im not being able to find time to write a fic :(( but i really hope ya'll enjoy this my pooks pls don't let this flop yall TT PLS REBLOG!!

TAGLIST ► OPEN! send an ask/dm me/comment below this post to join the taglist for "dream girl" ! or even better, join my perm taglist (linked in my pinned post!) and never miss out a single work<3

READ MORE ON — CATALOGUE?!

SPAM LIKING = BLOCK! | SPAM REBLOGS/COMMENTS = OK!

PROFILES ! the ultimate rizzlers | it girlz | sssh,, privates!

CHAPTERS !

OO1 : duration of bitchelessness

OO2 : it was a cannon event

OO3 : ???

OO4 : ???

more tba

© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.

(📌) :: PERM TAGLIST IS OPEN! ( rebloged ) nets! @/k-labels

(🐚) :: DREAM GIRL TAGLIST! (1, 2 is rbed!) @natsukee @sainns @jayhoonvroom @hexoolio @yenqa @autumn583 @oldjws @defnotfertilizedtoesw @eleanorheartschishiya @rosas-in-the-garden @wonifullove @ak-aaa-li @jayujus @wvnkoi @enhacatalog @river-demon-slayer @luv4cheol @stilesks @eneiyri @enhastolemyheart @grah127 @rosie-is-everywhere @jiawji @hizhu @yunjinsbbg @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @winuvs @nicholasluvbot @lhspeachie @wonyofile @rainyjy @pkjay @en-gelic @ckline35 @sophi-ee @rikizm @ahnneyong @suhiiiiiii @blockbusterhee @seunghancore @aileeeeeeeeeeeee @heyniki @myheartfeelsapain @sunghoonsgff @90steele @llvrhee @jadedgem @yeokii @iheartjayke @sumzysworld @enhaz1 @letmein2urheart

(send an ask/dm me/comment under this post to be added)

[lvndrfucks]

i NEED more cobra kai challengers plzzzz

A pounding came at your door that slightly scared you. Your parents were out for the night, leaving you home alone. The clock read almost midnight. Who was at your door this late at night?

You cautiously got up from the couch and walked towards the door. You grabbed the baseball bat you had hidden around the corner, just as a safety precaution. You looked through the peephole and sighed in relief. You opened the door to reveal your two favorite boys.

“You scared me. I thought you were robbers or something,” you said, gesturing to the bat.

They both chuckled.

“Sorry, princesa, only us,” Miguel replied.

You stepped aside to let them in. You noticed they were both dressed like they had just gone out while you were lounging in your pajamas.

“So, what’s with the surprise visit,” you asked, crossing your arms.

They shared a look of weariness that didn’t go unnoticed.

“We just needed a place to relax after tonight,” Hawk answered.

“What do you mean? Did something happen?”

After the night of the party, the three of you had become fairly close. There weren’t any labels, but you all consecutively agreed to keep the relationship private. You were the boys’ getaway from their hectic karate life, but you were still in the know of the drama. You made the wise choice to stay out of it.

“We just took down Cobra Kai,” Miguel told.

You raised your eyebrows. “Okay. And how did you do that?”

“We broke into their dojo, fought off their students and got Terry Silver arrested after exposing him for cheating in the All Valley and beating someone up for blackmail.”

“…I’m gonna make tea.”

They followed you into the kitchen and sat down at the island table. They watched you set down three identical mugs while waiting for the tea kettle. You looked at them and sighed, walking around the counter to stand in front of them.

You inspected their appearance, checking for bruises or cuts. Of course, there were none. They were your strong boys.

“So, what does this mean now? No more karate war?” You questioned.

They shook their heads.

“The only thing to worry about now is the Sekai Tekai,” Hawk said. “But, at least now, we can relax a bit. Don’t have to worry about getting beat up in another tattoo parlor.”

You tilted your head, confused, but shook it off. You looked at Hawk. “You dyed your hair.”

“Oh, yeah.” He touched his gelled blue mohawk shyly. “Do you like it?”

You pecked his lips tenderly, pulling away with a smile. “I love it.” You turned to Miguel. “And you better keep these curls.” You ran your hand through his hair as his went to your hip, squeezing gently.

The tea kettle went off, making you, unfortunately, pull away. You poured the hot water into the mugs and placed the tea bags in. You grabbed some honey and squeezed some in each cup. You pushed it towards the boys.

It was silent as the three of you drank. Peaceful.

“Do you boys have time for a movie,” you asked, receiving nods in response.

You led them up into your room that they had snuck into countless times before. You sat your mug on your nightstand, same as them. You turned to them with a knowing look.

“You know the rules.”

They noticed the small smirk forming on your face. They looked at each other and complied. They removed their shoes first, followed by their jeans. You weren’t a fan of outside clothes getting on your comforter. Shirts were okay, optional to wear, of course.

You climbed into bed first, followed by Miguel on your right and Hawk on your left. You started scrolling through movies before settling on something you had all seen.

You settled into Miguel’s warm embrace as he kept one arm around you. You sat a pillow on your lap for Hawk to rest his head on, draping one arm over him. He grabbed your hand, placing a light kiss on your palm.

hera speaks!

i could’ve had this end differently…but i wanted to do a lil fluff post just cause.

what do y’all think of s6 so far? i love it sm and binged it as soon as it came out

[beabnormal24]

Quick Carbon wip just got inspired and wanted to write it.

“George.” Alex hisses, pressing his phone against his cheek until he’s sure he could mold into it.

He can still feel his heart racing from the run he had made up the stairs. He hasn’t really gone to the gym in a while, so it could be that, or maybe it’s just the way his brain had felt like melting out of his ears when he had laid eyes on the labelled boxes in the hall, first, and a muscular back near the doorman box, after.

“Alexander.” George hisses back, “why are we whispering?”

“Carlos Sainz, George.” Alex says, just before realising that, probably, saying a name without putting it in a properly complete sentence doesn’t make any logical sense. “I just- I just saw him- in the hall- fuck”

“Did you run up the stairs?” George asks, sounding way too amused. “I told you, you should take your working out more seriously at your age. Again, I can talk with Rita and find a spot for you in my morning Pilates classes, they would do you only good I am sure.”

“George, Carlos Sainz, in my- in my building.” Alex repeats, frantically looking for his keys in the utter mess of his jacket’s pockets.

He was pretty sure he was already holding them as he got in the hall, but then they seemed to disappear just as he was getting up the stairs, skipping the elevator because he surely wouldn’t stay there with Carlos Sainz just a few feet away.

Perhaps he just mechanically put them back in his pocket, he wouldn’t put it past himself after seeing Carlos freaking Sainz in the same place as himself. Talking to Alex’s doorman, of all people.

“Ah, I see, I see.” George says slowly, “But weren’t you watching him playing in San Diego just, like, a few days ago? Ah these rich people and their private jets, our poor sustainability!”

“It was last week, George.” Alex says, moving his phone to the other shoulder as he gets both his hands finally free. “Do you really not listen to me at all when I talk about golf?”

George is suspiciously silent for a second too long. “Eh, no.” He says, sincerely. “That being said. I don’t see the big deal with him being in the same building as you. You’re obsessed with the guy, just make sure to not act weird and all.”

“Weird?” Alex whispers, but it almost sounds like a screech to his own ears. “Yeah, no, I am perfectly normal about this what are you saying?”

“I can literally hear your brain exploding from here.”

“Shut up.”

“You called me.”

“And I am regretting it very much.” Alex says, stuffing his hand in the back pocket of his jeans just to come out, once again, empty handed. God, why does this have to happen now of all times? He is in desperate need of a coffee and, even better, a long cold shower to properly wrap around what he just saw. “Ah, my keys-“

There’s a tap on his shoulder and the only reason why Alex manages to not jump out of his skin is that he’s way too distracted with something like avoiding having to change all his locks because of his own idiocy.

As he turns around ready to tell somebody off, though, he desperately wishes his soul had actually made the jump.

“Looking for these?” Carlos Sainz says, dangling Alex’s keys in front of his face with a smirk. Distantly, Alex is pretty sure his phone just fell to the ground. “You dropped them in the hall, I can see it’s an habit.” Carlos Sainz jokes.

Because, as it stands, Carlos Sainz is in front of him making a joke about how Alex seems to have an habit of dropping his personal stuff around like an idiot.

Which is precisely the best and worst thing that could ever possibly happen to him.

In a remote part of his barely functioning brain, Alex knows that he should probably laugh to not look like a complete weirdo - which is exactly what George had advised him of, amazing.

But all that actually manages to come out of his mouth is just a strangled noise as his mind goes through two things, not necessarily in that order: fuck he is hotter than on TV and fuck he is shorter than I thought.

“Is everything-“

“Yes!” Alex rushes to say, taking the offered keys out of Carlos’ hands before remembering that he has been raised with manners. “Thank you, I am- a bit distracted yes.”

“That’s okay.” Carlos says, reassuring. His smile is almost blinding, way too gentle than it should be when offered to, well, a complete stranger.

Alex can’t exactly miss the way Carlos’ eyes seem to take in the sight of him, raking from the top of his head to the worn points of his Converse. He probably looks ridiculous compared to the well-put and squeaky clean shoes on Carlos’ feet, but in his defence, they don’t have a dressing code at work, and he is no professional golfer.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, new neighbour.” Carlos says, and when his eyes meet Alex’s there’s a glint in them he can’t exactly decipher. “I am Carlos Sainz, but I seemed to notice you already know that.”

Oh.

Alex is fucked.

[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.

[angel-of-the-moons]

When you get the chance do you think you could write a Miguel x chubbyF!reader ?

(It's my first time requesting and I wanted to try and give like an idea of it)

Miguel saw the reader in the library and she caught his eye and he went on about what he was doing until he grabbed the same book as her and it just happened to be both of their favorite books and they ended up talking about it and maybe going to a coffee shop after?

The Very Grumpy Spider

Miguel x Chubby/Curvy!Fem!Reader

TW/CW: None

Taglist: @tojishugetiddies

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

Miguel was hiding away from the world in the most unlikely of places. It wasn't his home, or his darkened office at HQ, or the labs at Alchemax.

No, it was the library. It hardly had any foot traffic, and the libraries of the world were quickly becoming obsolete with their actual paper books in favor of all the digital files you could simply download online these days.

Which is why it was perfect for him to hide in.

It was quiet, almost no people, and his favorite reading nook had the comfiest chairs. Hell, sometimes he'd sit in the bean bag chairs and nod off a bit.

Today he was browsing the shelves labeled "Classics -- Science Fiction".

His large fingers drummed on the spines of each book as he weighed the decision of which one to read, his glasses perched low on his nose. It seemed silly, that someone who has superpowers would like something as simple as science fiction, but these books were a big escape from the abuse he and his little brother were witness (and in many cases victim) to.

It was also the library he'd run off to back then, too.

It was a sanctuary, a sweet, private Sanctuary.

Miguel was so warped in his thoughts that he didn't notice somebody was now standing right next to him.

Not until a small hand reached out and they both touched the spine of the same book.

An omnibus of sorts containing all the stories of a series called "Dinotopia" by an author named James Gurney, a little over a hundred or so years ago. Miguel as a child had silly fantasies of finding such a place and now the stories were a source of great comfort when the stress of his life became a bit too hard.

"Oh! Sorry!" You say, awkwardly snatching your hand back. "I... Er. Didn't know that anybody else liked... uh, nevermind."

You were... cute. Not obnoxiously made-up like many of the women he's met; you were very minimal makeup and he could even see a few blemishes here and there.

Your body was not rail thin--again, like most women he's known--you were soft, your clothes hugged your body in a way that showed that you had little rolls that spilled over the top of your jeans, your legs and arms a bit on the thicker side, and your round little face definitely set you apart.

And Miguel found himself quickly liking the sight.

He lowered his hand and shook his head with a soft chuckle, "Ah, no, it's alright. I'm surprised anybody even knows these books exist."

You smiled sheepishly up at him, dimples in your soft cheeks as you did. "Yeah... My grandpa used to read these to me when I was little. It's hard to find them nowadays and the copies I had got ruined when my apartment flooded..."

"I used to read them as a kid, myself." Miguel smiled at you as he plucked the book off the shelf, looking at the illustrated cover; protected by a dust jacket but the cover was faded with time, the pages slightly yellowed.

"They were a nice escape."

"Oh! Yeah... They--they are." You say as you watched him turn the book over in his massive hands. Hell, they were so goddamn big that the thick volume looked like a tiny booklet. And oh, did you try to ignore how strong they looked.

Miguel sighed and held the book out to you, "Here. Far be it from me to keep someone from reading a favorite, huh?"

You held your hands up, waving then a bit. "Oh! No, no, um... It's okay. You can read it."

You both stood there, blinking at each other in an awkward silence.

Until you both broke out into soft laughter and Miguel lowered his hand that still clutched the book.

"...We're just going to go back and forth about this, aren't we?" He asked.

"... Probably." You giggled, rubbing the back of your neck.

There was another pause, until you decided to break it.

"Um... well. We can... Talk about it?"

When he tilted his head at you with raised eyes you felt yourself flush. "I--! Well, I just mean that, um... Er. It's unusual to find anybody that knows about that series because it's so old, so, I mean..."

He laughed again, and god, did it sound wonderful as it tumbled out of his lips. He fixed his dark eyes on you and smiled. "Sure. I don't have anywhere to be for the rest of the day."

You swore you could see that his eyes glimmered a different color as he spoke, and your heart slipped a beat.

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

You and Miguel chatted for what must have been close to three hours. You'd even gotten so close as to read the book together; or, well, a few of the stories in it here and there.

You guys had sat so close you could smell his cologne and aftershave.

Meanwhile Miguel could smell your sweet, cherry-like perfume. Hell, he could even smell your lip balm (it had notes of honey) thanks to his super senses.

He loved watching you move, he would often take his eyes from the pages to scan your form, looking at how soft and plush you were. He had the most intrusive thoughts about laying his head in your lap and just letting you run your fingers through his hair as you read the book aloud to him.

Oh, your thighs looked like perfect napping pillows...

He was gorgeous, and he found you absolutely beautiful. You were cute, funny, and quirky, whereas you found him intelligent, witty and kind when he spoke to you.

Something beeped on Miguel's watch and when he looked at it, he grunted. Lyla was asking him when he was going to just ask you out, because apparently she'd been eavesdropping covertly through his watch.

Yeah, it had been hours.

"Is that, um... A call you need to take?" You ask hesitantly.

"No, it's just my assistant checking on me." He turned it off and lowered his wrist, smiling again at you, and he felt something gnaw in his stomach when he saw your hopeful expression.

Fuck it.

"Hey... Would you like to get a coffee?" He finally asked you directly.

And oh, the little error-code face you made was just precious.

"Oh!" You shake your head softly, and smile up at him again. "Sure! I--I mean that is I'm okay with with that, and... uh."

Miguel stood, the book once again in his palm and he extended his hand to you politely to help you out of your seat.

Witty and chivalrous. It made you positively weak in the knees!

"But, um... are you sure?" You ask, following him to the check out counter.

He smiled at you over his shoulder, waving the book.

"Of course. After all, how else are we supposed to finish reading this together?"

[caranfindel]

Fic: Take a sad song and make it better

gen, pre-series | about 1300 words | characters: dean winchester, off-screen sam winchester

also on ao3:

"Mr. Thomas?"

It takes Dean a second to remember that he's Mr. Thomas. "Here!" he says. He stands, stiff and awkward from both the uncomfortable waiting room chair and the beating he took before he ended up in the uncomfortable waiting room chair. "I'm Dean Thomas. Is Sam okay?"

The doctor is young and tired-looking, and she eyes him warily. "You're not Sam's father..."

"I'm his brother. Is he okay?"

"Sam is going to be fine." She looks Dean up and down, and he doesn't know what she's looking for, but he knows he doesn't like it. "Why don't you come with me?"

He eagerly follows her, but she doesn't take him back to the patient area. Instead she leads him to a small office labeled Consultation Room, where Dean freezes. Because if anything screams we need a private place to tell you your brother's dead, it's a room off the ER called "Consultation Room," and if he walks in there, she's going to say it. He stands motionless in the doorway and tries to swallow, but his throat is as dry as the old bones he just burned.

"Sam," he croaks. "You said he was going to be fine."

Luckily, she gets it immediately. "Yes. He is. He's going to be just fine." She puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder and steers him into the room. "I just want to talk to you for a minute." Dean slumps into a more comfortable chair across from a small desk and waits for the awful adrenaline rush of Sam is dead to subside. The doctor - and he doesn't even know her name, which seems unfair, considering that she probably saved Sam's life - takes a seat behind the desk and places her hands on top, nervously drumming with her fingertips. "Are your parents here?"

"Oh, is that what this is about? It's okay. I'm twenty-one." It's a lie, of course, but he's got a pretty good fake ID that will back it up. "Our dad's out of town, but I've got a letter authorizing me to make decisions about Sam's care. I don't have it on me, but I can go get it."

"No, it's not that." She looks him up and down again, and he tries to assess his condition from memory. Jeans - torn and dirty, possibly stained with Sam's blood. Jacket - same. Hands - bruised, blood under the fingernails. Face - possibly scratched, probably not bruised or badly cut.

"So..." she begins tentatively. "Do you and Sam live with your parents?"

"With our dad. Like I said, he's out of town right now, but I've got a letter -"

"No, no, that's fine. That's not. The thing is." She sighs. "Okay. Sam was pretty badly injured, but my biggest concern was the possibility of a spinal injury, and I don't see any evidence of that on his x-rays. All of his injuries should heal with time and treatment. However, he's got several older injuries that I'm concerned about." She leans in and holds eye contact for an uncomfortably long time. Dean sees and raises her on the eye contact, because now he knows where this is going, and he knows his role. "Broken collar bone, both arms broken, multiple rib fractures. When I asked him about them -"

Dean interrupts. "You talked to him? He's conscious?"

"Yes. And when I asked him about his injuries, he said 'I'm clumsy' and then refused to speak further."

Damn. Sam must have really been knocked loopy if he couldn't think of a better story than that. At least he was smart enough not to take it any further.

"Can I see him?"

"Mr. Thomas. You have to understand that these injuries are suspicious. They're not the kind of injuries you get from being clumsy. And the fact that he refuses to discuss them is also potentially indicative of... " She stops and sighs again, clearly uncomfortable with what she has to do, which works in Dean's favor. "And you, yourself, look like you've been... Dean. Are you and you brother safe at home?"

Oh, concerned doctor lady. You have no idea.

"I got banged up finding Sam. When he fell through the floor of that old house, he took a lot of lumber with him. I had move it all to get to him." He has to shove down the memory of running downstairs, calling out to his brother and getting no response, pulling the rotten lumber off him piece by piece and finding him pale and broken underneath. If Sam's hurt that bad, this isn't going to be a sneak-out-at-shift-change situation, this is going to be a smile-and-convince-them-you're-not-being-abused situation, and he's got to concentrate to pull it off.

"Mmm hmm. What about Sam's previous injuries?"

Dean gives her a well-practiced sad little half smile. "It was a car wreck. Sam was in a really bad car wreck in Mexico a few years ago. He almost died."

She narrows her eyes. "And all of his injuries were from a car wreck a few years ago?"

Shit. Of course a recent injury would look different on an x-ray. Which arm did Sam break this year? "Yeah. Like I said, it was really bad. And his right arm wasn't set straight, so he had to get it re-broken and re-set a few months ago. Don't even get me started on Mexican doctors." He sends a silent apology to the doctors of Mexico, who are probably perfectly fine doctors and don't deserved to be badmouthed just because Dean needs an international incident to excuse why the medical records from Sam's horrible car wreck aren't available, and why one of his injuries is fresher than the others.

"So why do you think he didn't tell me about it?"

Might as well go all the way. "Our mom was driving. She didn't make it. Sammy's been pretty messed up since then. Won't even talk about it with me and Dad, let alone you guys."

"I'm sorry," she murmurs, and Dean knows she has taken the bait. Just gotta reel her in.

"He's been acting out a lot lately. Getting into trouble. Dad got this new job offer and thought a change of scenery might do him good, but. Well."

"Oh, is that why he was in the old Buell place?"

Dean affects a touch of confusion. "The Buell place? You mean the house I found him in?"

"Yes. The EMTs said they picked him up there. The local kids say it's haunted. It's a popular hangout for all kinds of troublemakers." She claps a hand over her mouth. "Oh, not that your brother, I mean -"

"No," Dean laughs, "it's okay. He's been kind of a troublemaker since we moved here. He was seeing a counselor back in our hometown, but he hasn't got hooked up with a new one here yet."

"Mmmm, I can help you out there." She rummages through the drawers of the desk until she finds a small box. "Here's some people who specialize in troubled teens" she says, handing Dean a couple of business cards. "I think either of them would be really good for Sam's issues."

Dean smiles brightly and stands up to tuck the cards into his pocket. "That's awesome. Thanks so much. Can I see him now?"

"Of course" As she leads him away, rattling off the list of Sam's new injuries (it's an extensive list that makes him realize she probably did save his life, and Dean feels a pang of guilt for lying to her), he makes a mental note to teach Sam the awesome story of the Mexican car wreck. Life is going to be so much easier when the little shit can pass for eighteen.

[v3n1ce-bxtch]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟHometown Baby *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

•6•

“AND SHES A HOMETOWN BABY, COULD YOU PUT YOUR PHONE DOWN MAYBE?”-OUT FRONT, JACK HARLOW

WARNINGS: Smuttt🤭, unprotected(WRAP BEFORE U TAP, please😭), and cussing

The envelope was gone. Zaria had thrown it in a drawer the morning after dinner with Jack, refusing to let it sit on her counter any longer like a silent accusation. The weight of it was still there, though, lurking in the back of her mind. Divorce. The word felt foreign to her, a label she never thought she’d wear.

Sia was over again, sprawled out on Zaria’s couch with a glass of wine in her hand. Her long braids hung over the armrest, and she was scrolling on her phone while occasionally giving unsolicited commentary.

“Girl, Mariah’s out here posting ‘soft life’ reels like she didn’t help wreck your marriage,” Sia said, shaking her head. “Talking about, ‘Peace over everything.’ Where was that energy when she was sneaking around with Chris?”

Zaria groaned, sinking deeper into the couch. “I don’t want to talk about Mariah.”

“You don’t have to, but I’m gonna say it: she’s trifling. And Chris? Double trifling.”

“Sia…”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” Sia said, holding up her hands. “But for real, how are you holding up?”

Zaria shrugged. “I’m…managing. Jack’s been a distraction, at least.”

“Oh, we’re talking about Pineapple Juice now?” Sia grinned, sitting up. “Girl, he is fine fine. And the way he looks at you? Whew. I’m rooting for y’all.”

“There’s no ‘y’all,’ Sia. We’re just friends.”

“Friends don’t plan private dinners at bougie restaurants,” Sia teased, sipping her wine.

Zaria rolled her eyes but didn’t respond. The truth was, Jack had been on her mind more than she wanted to admit. His texts, his laugh, the way he made her feel seen. It was refreshing after years of feeling invisible.

Her phone buzzed on the table, breaking her thoughts. Sia snatched it before Zaria could reach it, cackling when she saw the name.

“Pineapple Juice strikes again!” she sang, holding the phone just out of reach.

“Give it back!” Zaria lunged for it, laughing despite herself.

Sia finally handed it over, and Zaria opened the message.

Pineapple Juice 🍍:

Thought about you today. You good?

Her heart did that stupid little flutter it always did when he texted.

Wifey 💍:

Better now. What’s up?

Pineapple Juice 🍍:

You free tonight?

Zaria hesitated. Dinner had been nice, but she wasn’t sure she was ready for a repeat so soon.

“Soooo?” Sia asked, nudging her.

Zaria sighed“He wants to hang out,”making her tone as casual as possible.

“And you’re saying yes, right? Girl, don’t overthink it. Go have fun! You deserve it.” Sis exclaimed, her voice full of excitement.

After a long pause, Zaria typed back.

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊

Wifey 💍:

Fine. But nothing fancy this time.

Pineapple Juice 🍍:

Deal. I’ll pick you up at 8.

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊

Jack arrived right on time, leaning casually against his car when she walked outside in ripped jeans, sneakers, and a simple black tank top.

“Look at you,” he said, his eyes lingering just a little too long. “Still managed to outdress me.” He lightly chuckled.

She smirked. “You’re lucky I didn’t cancel.”

“Cancel? You’d miss out on all this quality time with me?” he teased, opening the car door for her.

Instead of a restaurant, Jack drove them to a small art gallery tucked away downtown. The space was intimate, with vibrant paintings and sculptures from local Black artists lining the walls.

“You brought me to an art show?” Zaria asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I figured you’d like it,” Jack said, shrugging. “Plus, I wanted to support this spot. They’re doing something cool for the community.”

Zaria was surprised—and impressed. She didn’t expect Jack to be into something like this, but she wasn’t mad about it.

As they walked through the gallery, Jack stayed close, his arm occasionally brushing against hers. It was such a subtle thing, but every accidental touch sent a little spark through her.

At one point, they stopped in front of a painting of a woman sitting on a throne, her expression fierce and unyielding.

“That’s you,” Jack said softly, nodding toward the painting.

Zaria tilted her head, studying it. “Why do you say that?”

“Because you’re a queen,” he said, his voice low and earnest.

She looked away, her cheeks warming. “You’re so corny.”

“And yet, you’re still here.”

After the gallery, Jack drove them to a food truck park. They sat on a bench under string lights, sharing a plate of tacos and laughing over nothing and everything.

When he dropped her off later, Jack walked her to the door again, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Thanks for tonight,” she said, leaning against the doorframe as she gave Jack a sweet smile that made his heart flutter.

“Anytime,” he replied. “And hey—don’t let those papers get to you. You’re too good for all that.”

His gaze lingered on her, soft and full of something that made her stomach flip. She could feel the tension between them, thick and undeniable.

“Do you want to come in?” she asked, the words leaving her lips before she could stop them.

Jack raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Are you sure?”

Zaria nodded, stepping aside to let him in. The tension in the room shifted the moment the door clicked shut. Jack stood close—too close—and the heat between them was almost tangible.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low, searching her face.

She nodded, but her breath hitched when his fingers brushed her cheek, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. The touch lingered longer than necessary.

“You make it hard to leave,” Jack murmured, his gaze dropping to her lips.

“Then don’t,” she whispered, her eyes fixed on his.

Jack’s hand slid to the small of her back, pulling her closer, their breaths mingling in the quiet. When his lips finally met hers, it wasn’t tentative—it was hungry, like he’d been holding back for too long.

Zaria melted into him, her hands gripping his shirt as if anchoring herself. His touch was steady, firm, as his lips moved against hers, igniting something deep and unspoken between them.

“Z,” Jack breathed, his voice rough as he pulled back just enough to look at her. “Are you sure?”

Instead of answering, she took his hand, leading him toward her bedroom.

This time, neither of them hesitated.

He helped her take off her shirt and began kissing down her neck.

“Jack” She whispered, putting her hands on his shoulders. Just feeling her hands on his shoulders made him elated, as if everything in life had finally clicked in place.

He took that as a sign to put her gently on the bed and yank her shorts off. He blew a low whistle,”Damn, you’re just as beautiful as I remembered.”he said as his eyes hovered over your body.

“And you’re just as handsome as I remembered.” She smiled shyly at him.

He kissed up from her lower stomach to her lips,making her breathe heavy, then paused, sighing.

“Why’d you stop?” Zaria spoke out is short breaths.

He sighed again,”Just need you to be sure that—that……I mean, I don’t want you to do this cause you’re heartbroken. And I don’t want you doing this because you’re upset at Chris.”

She chuckled,”Fuck Chris, I don’t give a shit about him.” She sat up, pouting,”I need you bad Jack Jack.” She whined out, her frustration evident.

He nodded,”Yes ma’am.” He gently pushed her on her back and slipped off her panties. Jack licked a trail up her slit.

Zaria moaned,”Fuckkk.”

He teased her with one finger and slipped in another, going at a slow pace.

“Yessss! Jackk, keep going!!” She gasped.

He increased his speed and started sucking her clit.

“Jackkk!” She screamed, which made him go crazy.

Then he stopped again with a smirk on his face and stood back up, taking of his shirt and loosing his belt.

Zaria groaned,”Again?!”, she thought she was about to reach her peak.

He nodded,”Yes ma’am.” He said again, affirmatively.

“Just fuck me already!” Zaria groaned out of frustration.

He crossed his arms,”Ask nicely, no attitude.”

She rolled her eyes, too impatient for his games.

He scoffed,”Fix your face, love.”

She smiled as sweetly as she could, trying to be convincing,”Can you pretty please with a cherry on top, fuck me?”

He smiled,”Better, now lay down.” Zaria lied down, spreading her legs. He lined himself before easing himself in. He whispered in her ear,”I’ve been fantasying about this since the party.” He put the rest of himself in with a groan and started with a slow pace.

She moaned,”Jackkk!” He increased his pace, straightening back up with his hands on her hips.

“You feel so good around me, baby.” Jack grunted,”Keep squeezing me just like that.” He kept pounding into her, as he breathed heavily, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

”I’m gonna cum..” she whimpered between moans.

He chuckled,”Speak up ,baby.”

She moaned,”I’m gonna cum, fuckk! Jackkk!!” All the built up tension she had built up over these weeks and months had been released. She hadn’t felt so relaxed since her constant fights with Chris.

Shortly after, he pulled out and released on her stomach ,”Damn, that was amazing.” He panted.

Zaria smiled,”I hadn’t been fucked that good since high school, Chris doesn’t even hold a candle up to you.”

“I know, and I could tell.” He said cockily as he rolled over beside her,”Let’s go get cleaned up, you’re staying the night baby.”

>>>

“How you feeling?” Jack asked, holding her close while drawing circles on her back.

“Really good.” Zaria smiled, still drunk on the feeling, looking up at him.

Zaria rested on his chest, finally feeling less worry and tension. Everything felt so natural ,like Jack had never been out of her life.

A/N: WHEWWW😮‍💨, I have NOT written smut for 2 yearssss. I literally had a full body cringe while writing this😭😭😭buttt thank you to @strawberries-and-lots-of-kisses for revising and giving me suggestions for this, it rlly helped🫶🏾🫶🏾

Taglist: @strawberries-and-lots-of-kisses @itsyagirljaz @blackynsupremacy @neptilius @harlowsbby @harlowcomehome

@slutzzz4jack @harlowsslut @harlowslut

Message me if u want to be part of the taglist

[leeharkersblouse]

Not ogling.

part 2.

spider!lottie matthews x fem!reader

word count: 1.3k.

again , proof read to the best of my abilities , apologies if it’s still rubbish.

authors note: AAAAAA , 20 days later and I finally wrote part 2. I love , love , loveeeee spider!lottie so much and I hope you guys do too :3

“I— I can explain!” lottie blurted out , pulling her mask up.

“get that back down!” you almost screeched , pulling lottie’s mask back down to hide her face , and identity , from someone walking past.

thankfully , they had headphones in and didn’t hear anything , nor did they see the person decked out in red and blue spandex.

the same person plastered all over the papers.

good god , lottie matthews was spider-woman.

you looked back at lottie , well , looked through the lenses of her mask and at her , with a bewildered expression.

“what— when— how?” you whispered.

“why are you whispering?” lottie asked , automatically lowering her voice to a whisper too.

“because— look at you!” you yelled , causing lottie to jump a little.

you were both far too exposed out here. and if you wanted answers then you’d have to go somewhere private.

lottie raised her hands in defence.

“I know how I look , okay! but I can’t explain anything out here.” lottie said as she gestured to the darkening street. “come on , i’ll swing us back to your place.”

lottie extended an arm , expecting you to..cling to her like a koala?

has she lost the plot?

“are you being serious?”

“you’ll be okay , i’ll keep a hold of you— I mean I don’t really have this whole swinging thing down but I think i’ll manage.”

‘I don’t really have this whole swinging thing down’.

your eye twitched and you spun on your heels , walking off.

lottie let her arm drop and she called out your name.

“you know where I live.” you called back before turning the corner.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆ 🕸 ⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

of course lottie reached your house before you , she could literally swing around.

you fished around in your pocket for your keys , pulling them out and unlocking your front door. glancing back , you took one last look at lottie’s silhouette. she was perched on a tree branch out of the light. you huffed , stepping through the threshold and into your house.

you were instantly hit with a wave of warmth , mum must have left the heating on before she left for her night shift.

you didn’t even bother taking your coat , shoes , and bag off , making a mad dash upstairs and into your bedroom.

once in there , you lifted your window up , allowing lottie to swing to your windowsill and climb inside , before shutting it.

“okay , from the top.” you were straight to the point , tossing your bag down on your chair at your desk , hanging your coat over the back of said chair , and kicking your shoes off.

lottie sat down on your bed , taking her mask off and setting it in her lap. her hair was unruly , curls all over , fringe disheveled.

your heart sped up a little , palms becoming sweaty.

lottie looked so fucking good. like how she does after practice , disheveled , sweaty , breathless—

you wiped your palms on your jeans before leaning against your windowsill , waiting for lottie to explain how , and when , she became spider-woman.

“you know that science trip we went on a few weeks ago?” lottie asked , running her gloved fingers over her mask lenses. “with mrs higgings?”

you nodded. lottie got in a whole bunch of trouble during that science trip , for slipping away from the guided tour around the lab. you could still remember how red her cheeks were when she was being reprimanded , honestly , they were almost as read as her spidey suit.

“well , when I got lost—”

“snuck off.”

lottie huffed at your correction.

“when I snuck off , I found this weird section of the labs. they were testing on animals and insects — spiders. they were labelled as radioactive. one of the radioactive spiders must have gotten out of its container thingys and bit me.”

you blinked.

“this is why we stay with those guided tours.”

“it was a very boring tour , even you were contemplating sneaking off!”

you huffed at that. if Jackie hadn’t talked you out of not sneaking off , then you would’ve been in just as much trouble as lottie.

and you weren’t just referring to mrs higgings’ reprimanding.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆ 🕸 ⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

lottie explained some more about what had happened , when her powers started to develop , and what she did to hide it from everyone.

she even went on a rant about how she made her suit , web shooters , and web fluid.

“wait , so you make your own webs?” you asked as you turned your head to look at lottie , eyes widening at how close your faces were.

you were sat on the floor with your back against your bed , lottie was dangling over the edge of it with her hair pooling beneath her head.

because she could hang upside down without consequences now.

“how else would I have made them?” lottie asked , tone full of genuine curiosity and confusion.

you tilted your head , eyes half lidded , and raised a brow. basically giving lottie an ‘isn’t it obvious?’ kind of look. it took lottie a moment , before—

“ew!?” she shoved your face away , causing you to burst out into soft laughter , before sitting up. “spiders don’t even shoot webs out of their butt. they have , like , silk spinning organs and spinsters and stuff.”

“can you lay eggs?”

“what? no!”

“do you like flies and other insects now?”

“are these serious questions?”

“can you talk to other spiders?”

“I— don’t know?”

“well if you can , can you please tell any , and all , spiders to stay out of my room. I hate spiders.” you asked , pushing yourself up.

you stretched , back and neck aching from the position you had been in for—

two HOURS?

“won’t your parents be wondering where you are?” you asked. lottie sat up , pushing herself off of your bed to check the time on your alarm clock.

5:51PM.

oh , lottie’s parents would definitely be wondering where she was.

“shit— shit , shit , shit.” lottie muttered , grabbing her mask , whilst heading towards your bedroom door.

“window.” you spoke up.

right , she came in through the window so she should probably leave through the window too , to avoid any neighbours seeing literal spider-woman walking out of your front door.

because swinging out of a window is definitely less conspicuous.

lottie stopped in her tracks , spinning on her heels , and used her web shooter to shoot a web to pull your window up.

but , before lottie perched herself on the windowsill and readied herself to swing off , she turned back to look at you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” lottie spoke up , fiddling with her mask a little. “I didn’t know what was happening and I didn’t want you thinking any different of me. everyone already thinks i’m crazy , everyone but you.”

stepping forward , your expression softened. you placed your hands on top of lottie’s , thumbs rubbing the spandex that clad them , to ease her fidgeting.

“you’re fine , lott , honestly.” you reassured , gently squeezing her hands.

lottie nodded , she should’ve known you’d be so understanding. you always were.

she inhaled , becoming far too aware that you two were actually stood really close together , before pulling her hands back to pull her mask over her head.

“you won’t tell anyone?”

you shook your head at lottie’s question.

“lips sealed.” you nodded whilst pretending to zip your lips shut , throwing away the key.

lottie chuckled from under her mask.

“just making sure , wouldn’t want to have to web your mouth shut or something.”

“don’t threaten me with a good time , matthews.”

you saw the way lottie’s lenses narrowed , signalling that she furrowed her brows.

“i’m kidding.” you drawled , pushing at her shoulder. “now go.”

lottie huffed whilst turning around , climbing to sit on your windowsill before she swung off into the night.

you closed your window , turning around to rest your back against it.

lottie was spider-woman. you mull over the thought before huffing , that responsibility is going to eat her up alive.

[thomsonsharon347]

Denim Jackets Variety To Bowl You Out!

VISIT:

Denim jackets are an essential for every wardrobe. With an array of different style pick the best for your customers

[raffe156]

Late Night admin

Pairing - Price X Tank X Ghost

Summary - A team night out turns into more, is 3 really a crowd?

Warnings - Smut (18+) Voyeurism, Language, alcohol, Age gap Price (39) Tank (25) Ghost (36) SoftDom!Price, public sex, praise kink, fingering, Hair pulling, Oral (M receiving), P in V, unsafe sex, Ghost being a little simp for Tank

AN- Well, this was meant to be smut without plot...well, I failed at that.. not 100% happy with it, but we'll see what you guys think. It doesn’t tie in with the Your captain series- this is an AU in which dr Helen never even crossed Prices mind, Tank never left for Squad 8 …so a better universe 🤣🤣🤣

It's kind of filth/heartfelt. Also I know Kyle has moves no one can tell me otherwise, haha 😂

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Call of duty characters, Only Tank

💖 As always, feedback welcome! It only results in me getting more stuff out - p.s Iam working on Breakaway state part 3 don't worry 😘

@deadbranch @mildlyhopeless @fanficandartgal @shuttlelauncher81 @a-littlebirdie @soapyghost @boomtowngirl @mostannoyingbillioner @brewed-pangolin @chb-7 @sarcastic-raptor163 @tapioca-marzipan

@onlycodcanjudgeme

_______________

“What?”

“No nothing…you look good kid…you sure you don’t want my jacket?” Price was already removing it from his shoulders.

“No im good, I’m literally in jeans and a T-shirt…” You looked down at yourself, but the comment still boosted your ego, but Prices opinion was biased at the best of times he told you you looked stunning with dirt, grime and gun oil on your face!

“Yeh but you look good…is that one of my T-shirts? Have you knotted it at the back?”

“No…its an old one…” you made for the door out of his office knowing full well it wasnt an old one and it was infact the very same top he had worn earlier today.

“Tank…If that has my name on the label…”

“It doesn’t want me to take it off and show you?”

“Yes actually…” He smirked knowing full well it was his. You scoffed he wasnt daft, for a start it did have his name on the label and smelt of cigars and his aftershave.

“I thought you wouldn’t mind, and besides if I smell like another man then guys won’t try and grind up on me in the club! It’s a win win…Me and Kyle can dance in peace with out you and Ghost kicking heads in” you rested your hand on his chest. He didn’t know you were going to a club. Shit.

“A club? I thought it was a pub?”

“Need to get your hearing checked already? How very sexy John” you motioned for him to leave his office, he followed reluctantly.

*********

As you an Price entered the club the music hit you vibrating through your body. You turned to look back at your Captain he looked annoyed already, it was too many people for him. That an the doorman had asked you for ID at the same time the other had told Price the pub was down the road. As you manoeuvred through the crowd of bodies you reached back for his hand and laced your fingers into his giving them a little squeeze and a wink. He smiled, thats all he needed, but he did feel abit daft, this place wasnt like the dive clubs he had gone to as a teen, it was fancy and he much preferred the pub, the doorman had said one was down the road he wondered if he could talk at least Ghost into joining him leaving the ‘youngsters’ to the clubbing.

“TANK!”

You spotted Kyle waving to you from across the room, you tugged on Price's hand leading him through the crowd. Ghost and Soap were sat in the private booth you and Kyle had booked. You can’t even remember when you had booked it but you were both definitely drunk when you did, never again were you being left in charge of team nights out. Soap jumped up he looked almost shocked to see Price, but then these days where ever you were Price wasn't far behind.

“Captain! Tank! Nice of you to join us” He slapped Price on the back.

Ghost moved up for Price to sit beside him handing him a drink, it wasn't top shelf like they were use to but it would do as he did he gave you the quick once over, he always did, he noted that you were wearing Price's Tshirt he knew because the sleeves were much wider than one that was your size, the knot on the back making it tight and hug you just right and also the Cigar smoke and aftershave were a dead giveaway.

Before Price could tell you to sit down next to him, you and Kyle had already made your way to the Dance floor, he shook his head smiling he loved when you were like this…happy…having a good time there wasn’t much time for that in your line of work…even if it wasn't his scene he was happy he came just to see you laughing and dancing and…..were you not wearing a bra? How had he not noticed that back at the base? Fuck sake! He would be having words later, he wasn't the only one who had noticed, it was the first thing Ghost had clocked when you had walked up to them, he watched as your tits bounced with every movement and the way you swayed your hips had him shifting in his seat to rearrange his jeans. Price was a lucky man. Taking a sip of his drink he noticed Price was also watching you, Ghost was probably the only one who knew that you guys had been fucking for a few weeks now, he had caught you two at it late one night in Price’s office, Price had looked entranced by you falling apart under him, Ghost had wanted to be apart of that , he wanted to be the reason you crumbled wanted to feel you under him…but he simply observed replaying it back later in his bunk. After that he had watched you both a few more times he tracked your habits knew what words were code for you two getting together. “Need a had with some paperwork tonight Tank, you mind?” You neverminded, thats what Ghost found so alluring, you never said no to your Captain, complete obedience, as he always said “Good soldiers, follow orders” and you were the best little soldier he knew. It made him jealous, he wanted you wrapped around him, he wanted just a taste of what you and Price had even if he had to share.

****

You an Kyle had been dancing for what seemed ages, your skin numb from the beat. You noticed Price and Ghost in deep conversation.

“What do you think they are taking about!” You tired to shout in Kyles ear. He was 7 tequilas in so he hadn’t noticed them looking over as much.

“Who Price and Ghost? How would I know…the good old days probably hahaha ohh no this is a banger of a tune!” You had lost him now. You looked back over to the booth, Soap was ordering more drinks and trying to chat up the waitress who to be fair looked interested. Ghost was now in Price’s ear, you made eyes at Price he just gave you a wink. You had a feeling you were the topic of conversation.

********

“Had much paper work this week Captain?” Ghost finished his drink. Price side eyed him, He knew Ghost had been watching you and him for the last few weeks, he wasnt daft Ghost thought he was smart but Price was smarter.

“You know what I have, Tank has been a massive help, don’t know what id do with out her…”

“Yehhh shes a good girl our Tank…thinking of asking her if she wants some one on one sparring sessions…perfect her hand to hand combat skills…” Ghost signaled the waitress for another round.

“Hmmm you can always ask, she’s pretty busy most days with me or Kyle…but you can only ask cant you?” Price gulped his drink in one.

“Yeh I noticed shes always busy with you, not so much Kyle…but I was thinking more of a late night class, I think she’d be up for it…you could even join in…give us a few pointers If you get what I mean…thats only If Tank is good with it?”

Price narrowed his eyes, was Ghost suggesting what he thought he was? Bold move…even though he didn’t like the thought of sharing you with him, Price did like the idea of putting him in his place he had no doubt Ghost would be good to you, but not like he was, it would be nice to take him down a notch or two, he had noticed him sniffing around you and it was becoming tiresome. Price glanced over at you, he wondered if you’d even be up for it, He beckoned you over.

You were being summoned, you tapped Kyle to signal you were going to get your drink from the booth, he nodded he was in full rave mode. The heat from all the bodies was suffocating, it wasnt till you emerged out and into the booth did you realise how warm it had been in there, your skin was shiny with sweat. Price patted the seat in between him and Ghost, both men hardly budge up, it was a tight squeeze. You sat down sipping your drink. Cosy.

“Having fun kid?” Price handed you and Ghost a shot as you downed the drink in your hand.

“Thanks and yeh…what’s up?” You were on alert now, this was the first time in weeks these two looked like they were getting on? Something was going on?

“We have a little proposal for you love” Ghost leaned back in his seat his arms on the back of the booth, legs spread wide.

“Oh yeah? An what would that be?” You took Prices drink from him, swishing it before knocking it back…not his usual grade but it went down a treat. Price gave you alittle smirk, you caught on fast no beating around the bush with you. His clever girl.

“Well…Me and Ghoat have been talking and…” Price handed you another shot.

“Is this about Ghost watching us have sex in your office? Because I know about that…I clocked him about 3 weeks ago…Whats up LT you not been able to get it out of your head? The Captain is good at what he does…” You took the shot and followed it with another. Both men looked at eachother in disbelief. Ghost rolled his eyes.

“What do you mean you knew? You knew he was watching us the whole time?” Price leaned forward. He couldn’t believe you hadnt said anything.

“Yeh…I thought it was something you two had arranged? I thought thats what the whole song and dance with ‘Need a hand doing some paper work’ was about? I thought it was code for Me and Tank are gonna be at it in my office Ghost” you gave a thumbs up to demonstrate. Ghost started laughing it was a sound you only heard on the rare occasion something really tickled him.

“So how about it then Tank…Me you and the Captain? You up for it” He rested his hand on your thigh leaning in close enough you could smell his aftershave, it was peppery and dark it sent shivers up your spine. Price slid his hand up the back of your top spreading his fingers out on your back it only intensified the goosebumps.

“What do you think Boss?” You glanced round to Price giving him a cheeky grin? Price was hooked.

“Yeh I don't mind a little bit of audience participation if you dont kid, what time we leaving?” He snaked his hand round to your chest palming your breast in his rough hand. Ghost watched as you melted into Price's Touch.

******

It had been a mad struggle to convince Soap not to bring the waitress back to the base with you in the end Ghost had paid her to walk away. He had better things to be doing.

Once back at the base you said your good nights and headed to your side of the base, Soap helped Kyle to their shared room, but Ghost hung back.

“You not coming LT?” Soap wanted help with the very drunk Kyle.

“Im sure you can manage Johnny…Im gonna have a proper drink with Price…need to get the taste of shit bourbon out my mouth”

Soap nodded picking Kyle back up from the floor half carrying him half dragging.

“Don’t let him swallow his tongue!” Price yelled after them.

Once they were out of ear shot Price turned to the lieutenant.

“Some ground rules Ghost…you don’t cum inside her I don’t care how good it feels…she likes it rough but nothing visible, lastly if she says stop you stop”

Ghost nodded why did he feel nervous? He’d imagined this hundreds of times, he followed Price to your room.

“Oh one more thing…even in here I’m still your Captain so what I say goes”

Price knocked before letting himself in to your room, Ghost right behind him.

Without a word Price moved in on you in two strides pressing his body to yours cupping your face, pulling you into a deep kiss. Ghost watched on as Price unbuttoned your jeans pulling them down and helping you step out of them. He didn’t know when he should join in he waited for the go ahead.

Price sat you on the end of the bed, his hand stroking the top of your head.

“Thought you wanted to join in Ghost?” Price called back to him, never taking his eyes off yours. That was his invite.

They both towered over you but you didn’t care, you had already started working on unbuckling Prices belt. Ghost was already shifting his jeans down to rest on his hips.

“Steady on sweetheart…” Price stopped your hands, pulling his cock out for you. Ghost steadily stroking away. The site of them both made you ache. Ghost was exactly how you imagined, Price steered you head in his direction pressing his tip to your lips.

“Open wide for me love” Price stroked your cheek tenderly. You did as you where told and wrapped your mouth around him softly licking the underside of his head. You looked up at him as he slid further down your throat. The sight caused Ghost to let out a low growl.

“That’s a good girl…” Price looped his hand up into your hair. You could feel Ghost getting impatient, but you looked to Price for permission, he nodded. You reached out your hand to grab him. He sighed at the softness of your hand on his cock you stroked him but he was eager to have your mouth around him as well. You pulled away from Price leaving a string of spit and took Ghost in your mouth, you could feel the corners of your mouth split as you tried to take him in. Christ, he was big, you tried your hardest but you gagged and pulled your head away gasping.

They looked at each other amused then back at you, like a pair of bullies that had their victim cornered.

“Easy now…lets not get carried away eh?” Price cupped your face letting your recover.

“Lay back for me…” you did as you were told, the butterflies in your stomach more of a flurry now. Price crouched infront of you his mouth an inch away from your opening you could feel his warm breath. You looked down at his handsome face his eyes a liquid blue you willed him to touch you. The heat from his tongue as it slipped in caused a little groan to escape from you.

“Please…fingers…please” you begged him.

“So impatient…but seeing as you asked politely…” Price could rarely say no to you, he pushed two fingers in his tongue still flat against your clit, you could feel his beard scratching your inner thighs but you liked it always did. He lazily curled his fingers up inside you, as you rolled your head back you locked eyes with Ghost. He moved closer to you, his hand falling to stroke the top of your head all the filthy things he wanted to do to you caused a stampede in his mind. Price stopped and turned his attention to Ghost. He was getting impatient as well Price wasn't a cruel man but Ghost needed to learn his place when it came to you. He removed his fingers and angled himself over you pressing his tip just enough to make you squirm. Ghost watched as your eyes switched from a soft focus to full-blown desire.

“Think Ghost wants to know what it feel like to be inside you Tank…so I'm going to be generous and let him go first, is that ok?”

Price leant forward planting little kisses on your breasts and stomach, your skin smelt of him it drove him insane he hoped Ghost would be able to smell it a reminder of who’s you were claimed by him.

You nodded glancing over at Ghost who waited for Price to remove himself from between your legs he was taking his time on purpose.

“Ill be right here where you can see me ok…” Price positioned himself just to the side of you. You watched him as Ghost softly nestled between your thighs. He lifted his ski mask up so it rested on the bridge of his nose. He placed your leg over his shoulder slightly lifting you from underneath with his hand he angled you up to his face. The position was a new one and Price was impressed and he knew you were to from the little smirk on your face which was soon wiped clean as Ghost made contact with you, he went at it like a last meal, the taste of bourbon and honey and the faint cigar ash…Price making sure he knew he was just a guest.

He sucked hard on your clit causing you to dig your heel into his back arching up further. The noises coming from you sent him into a frenzy and knew you were close, he wanted you to cum, he need you to cum he had to hear the sound and know he had caused it.

“Need to feel you cum on him cock…” Ghost shoved you up the bed with one hand, he nudge at your centre with his tip, Price looked at you for any sign of hesitation Price was above average in size but Ghost was wider, but from the look in your eyes you wanted it. Fair enough. Without a word you spread you legs open wider for him. The fuse in Ghosts brain blew, he slowly pushed inside, your walls stretching around him, it was a tight fit. It took everything for him not to ram his length in fully. One last push and he was fully inside you for real and not just in his head with his hand as a very poor substitute.

“Fuckin hell…” Ghost was drunk on the feeling of you around him, with every draw back your walls sucked him back in he had to slow down or else he was going to break the first rule, but your moans were blocking out all rational thoughts, then there the sound he wanted to hear most of all you were coming undone the barrier falling down. You clawed at his chest, shuddering as you came. He gently wrapped his hand round your throat only applying light pressure looking into your eyes. Price said you liked it rough.

“Simonnnnn……”you moaned as you shook, he had to pull back slightly he would of happily filled you up there and then but he could feel Price switching his gaze from you to him. Watching him like a hawk. How bad of a beating would it be?

“On your front Tank” Price stood at the top of the bed helping you get on all fours.

“Let’s get one more out of her eh?…remember not inside…I mean it…Ill hang you myself…” Price winked as he said it, Ghost believed him.

Looking down at you spread open again for him, he watched Price nuzzle your face, calling you a good girl as you took him to the base. He felt spoilt as he buried himself inside you again only giving you a moment to adjust around him before he bucked his hips into you with each thrust he made sure to slowly drag himself back out trying to match the rhythm of Price thrusting into your throat.

“Tell your Lieutenant how good you feel…tell him…how good you are…” Price gritted his teeth.

You could feel your orgasm building then the thin little thread broke, causing both men to fall apart, ready to break. Price had stilled, his head back as you swallowed every last bit. Just as Ghost was close you turned to look at him, you eyes glossy.

“Did Price tell you not to cum inside me?…” You voice was strained, it was enough to send him over the edge. He nodded only slowly slightly.

“Well you can…but I want to see your face as you do…without the mask…” You half-turned you body reaching up for him to hold you to his chest. Price shot you a look, no way Ghost was removing his mask…but just like that it was off and thrown on the floor…Ghost was hook, line and sinker for you.

“Good boy…” you studied him kissing the large scar on his face. He clutched you to his chest, his forehead resting on your temple panting your name as he came inside you coating your walls. You both collapsed forward Ghost moving to the side of you still tangled up you reached to pull Price onto the bed, he obliged. The small cot creaked in protest under the 3 of you.

“Do you want your mask back Ghost?” Price reached for it.

“No…its ok ill leave it off for a little longer..does this mean I get to help with paperwork more often?” He kissed your shoulder liking the way your skin felt against his face.

“We’ll see” You and Price agreed in unison.

[the-gods-puppets-bah]

CHRISTIAN •EVAN • EROS

-> Headmate pack by Gods of Order written by Vox and Maxwell

-> A request from Anon , let me know if you don’t like it! I can edit or remake it. I’m running on our understanding of “impurity holder”

Age ;; 24

ID labels ;; Male , Genderfluid, Boyflux, demiboy, bisexual, MLM.

Pronouns ;; He/They/It

Species ;; Partial shapeshifter.

Role ;; Impurity holder

Evan can front independently yet he doesn’t like doing such , preferring to avoid front at all cost due to the bodies lack of shape shifting. If he fronts it’s during private moments or for a very brief time. He is a very confident presence however , occasionally calling people “love” at the end of sentences.

As he deals with the bodies more impure thoughts/actions he has adopted a very “I don’t give two shits what people think” attitude. That alongside keeping themselves busy helps deal with it.

Hobbies wise, they enjoy drawing and perhaps even crocheting. Anything to keep their hands busy. Anything that involves creating so it like likes games like Minecraft , The Sims or Stardew valley purely for the building aspect.

His fashion sense is very preferably formal. Buttoned shirts rolled up and jeans. It enjoys having a necklace as well, something to fidget with.

[talesfromtheclub]

New Bartender

Noah was an average white guy, wife and a baby on the way. He wasn't the type to go to strip clubs, especially ones with male dancers. So, finding the place was weird, like it was calling to him, inciting him with dreams fulfilled.

He sat at the bar, fresh from his job and in normal attire for him, white shirt, blue jeans. Noah wasn't particularly built or sexy, but his wife Sarah found him attractive, enough to have a baby with him.

Noah couldn't remember how long he'd been waiting for the bartender, it felt like days since he had stepped into the club. The performances repeated on a loop like a video of sexy dance training tapes.

He checked his watch but... it was broken, unmoving. He didn't understand this, he... he wasn't gay so why was he still here... his wife was due to give birth ANY day now, so why was he wasting his time in a gay strip club.

Then, he saw HIM. A dancer was welcomed to the stage as the sexy Aaron James. He had hair that swayed delicately in the wind from the club, and skin white like Noah's. Aaron James had danced for what felt like hours, sweat dripping down his muscles making him look even more sexy.

Noah felt like the dance was for him.

Because it was.

Noah turned away from the stage and finally got the will to leave, but Aaron James was there, standing next to him, leaning on the bar. "Hi beautiful, care for a private show?" He said, "N-No thanks... I'm... yes" He didn't know what he was doing, it was like he couldn't resist the offer.

Aaron James led Noah to a private room, decorated with silk couches and pillows. A stage with a pole was in the middle of the room. Aaron James sat his playmate down on the couch and carefully removed Noah's shirt.

Noah saw how muscular he looked now, his skin was tanner, now he looked like he was of Latin American descent. Noah leaned back and watched Aaron James begin to dance, shaking his ass for the man.

Noah felt something growing in his pants, and felt his body growing too. His muscles getting bigger and more developed, his butt getting bigger and more bubbly. He could feel his skin darkening to a nice chocolate brown. He loved it because it felt right, and welcoming to his true self.

He wasn't a white straight guy, hell nah! He was a sexy gay black man, with muscles that made him popular and hot. Aaron James got on the floor, beginning to crawl seductively over to Noah, getting up close to his crotch.

Slowly removing his pants and letting his now huge friend come out to play, Noah chuckled, speaking in a deeper and sexier tone "Like my rod baby? Hows about you lick it like the white boy you are?" Aaron James had his fun doing what Noah commanded, sucking and licking the large popsicle stick before him.

Finally after he was done, Aaron James removed all of Noah's old clothes, and took his hand to guide him. The pair walked through the club's backstage, Noah felt confidence with his nudity, loving how the other dancers and employees would turn to look at his impressive package.

Aaron James handed Noah a uniform labeled as "Barkeep Uniform" giving him a passionate kiss and welcoming him to his true job, and calling him Nick. Yes. Noah was a white boy's name. He was No-Good Nick, sexy and sinful. Nick donned his sexy uniform and walked behind the bar, finally the club regained its bartender. No-Good Nick.

[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