#private label jeans
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oliviasfashion · 11 months ago
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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.
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thomsonsharon347 · 4 months ago
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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
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bywons · 8 months ago
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DREAM GIRL — LHS
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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?!
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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
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© 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)
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lvndrfucks · 4 months ago
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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.
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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
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octuscle · 10 months ago
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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.
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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!"
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Full service and guaranteed customer satisfaction. That's what Ed's gas station was famous for.
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angel-of-the-moons · 1 year ago
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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
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🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷
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?"
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raffe156 · 2 years ago
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Late Night admin
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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.
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venic-bxtch · 1 day ago
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*:・゚✧*:・゚Hometown Baby *:・゚✧*:・゚
•6•
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“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
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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
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thomsonsharon347 · 5 months ago
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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
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talesfromtheclub · 1 year ago
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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.
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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.
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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.
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klausysworld · 2 years ago
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hello can you make a one-shot for yandere klaus mikaelson where elijah discovers klaus's obsession with y/n, after finding thousands of portraits, paintings, drawings, photos taken secretly, stolen belongings (perfume, panties, clothes, keys his home), Elijah confronts him about it.
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Niklaus what have you done?
Klaus’s obsession had been going for months, he had rooms which were once empty, hidden from his family due to his design plans but now they were full of her face, her belongings just her. Canvases were everywhere, paintings, sketches, charcoals, chalk, any medias he could use.
There were boxed of her things, all organised accordingly, labelled and colour coded so that he may never struggle to find what he needed.
Now these things were secret, his eye’s only, he wanted it kept that way and so he tried to make sure he was private about his…tendencies.
———————————————————————
Elijah was becoming concerned. Niklaus was always missing, leaving in the middle of the night, not picking up his phone for hours, always returning in silence and sneaking around the house. It was odd to say the least.
So naturally he decided he should just take a little look through his brothers things like a any good father figure brother would do.
Elijah understood that Niklaus liked his privacy, Elijah did too but this wasn’t to harm his brother, he was worried for him, he wasn’t his usual…murdery self, naked girls weren’t all around the house and he wasn’t purposefully pissing everyone off. Now this should be a good thing apart from the fact that Elijah knew his brother. This was not a good thing. Something else was going on, something that had Klaus’ entire attention.
Finding the secret rooms weren’t much of a shock, he was often aware of them through the centuries.
What was inside was what was shocking.
He walked around silently as he looked at as many different portraits as he could. All of her. The same girl in different outfits, hair styled differently, facial expressions slightly different, the lighting positioned differently. They were all so different and yet the same.
The next room he got to had his hand covering his mouth, she was painted and sketched naked everywhere. The floor was scattered in her naked body. Her back arched as she touched herself clearly painted across a large canvas. His eyes darted around as he saw an array of boxes.
Hesitantly he picked the red box. Underwear.
Many pairs of panties, some bras too. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose as he put the box away, making sure to position perfectly the way it was.
The purple box. Pictures.
Thousands. All of her.
Park, grill, home, walking, running, shopping, sleeping, changing, showering, masterbating, having sex with other guys.
There were pictures of her in both Mystic falls and New Orleans, how long has his brother been following this girl?
Images of her at the mikaelson ball, home coming, prom, the party Marcel threw so long ago, the factions peace agreement party, she was everywhere, she was always where he was, no he was always where she was.
“Niklaus what have you done” he whispered to himself as he checked the next box
Blue. Belongings.
Jumpers, jeans, shirts, skirts, bracelets, necklaces, hats, scarves, teddy bears, books, a phone? Dream catchers, cards, fake flowers, perfume, a face wash, body wash, everything she had owned in a box.
Green box. Information.
Notes, so many notes.
She’s afraid of the dark
She still owns her childhood bear
When she was 5 her mother made her join a dance class
She can’t swim well -get her lessons
She had a birthmark ____
Favourite colour
Favourite food
Favourite band
He had her preferences ok just about everything. Her fears, her goals, he had her everything known. He had been studying her for years.
So much information on when she moved to New Orleans, which college she got into, how far away from their home. Maps of New Orleans to find the best routes to her house. Everything.
And then a little black box. He opened it to find keys. Keys to presumably her home, her car, a storage unit?
Elijah carefully out everything back and made his way back to his room only to bump into his brother.
Klaus’ expression dropped in an instant.
The silence was deathly, almost as much as Klaus’ stare.
His eyes darted to behind Elijah, then to his hands checking he hadn’t taken anything
“Niklaus…” he began quietly
“Why were you in there” he cut off
“I was worried about you-“
“You shouldn’t be, I’m happier than ever” he told him
“Niklaus this isn’t right- this girl-“ he tried but Klaus was quick
“She is my girl and that makes it right”
“She doesn’t even know you exist does she?” He asked almost softly as to not anger him but it appeared his attempt failed
“Of course she knows i exist! She’s mine, i love her, I wouldn’t love someone I don’t know Elijah!” He yelled roughly shoved his brother away when he placed a hand on his shoulder
“Yes you know who she is but she has no idea-“
“No. No. She knows. I’ve talked to her multiple times, you should see her Elijah, the way she smiled at me, she loves me i can tell” his voice grew quieter, calmer, scarier.
“She’s just being polite” he reasoned
“Then why does she leave so much for me? She wouldn’t leave her curtains open unless she wanted to be seen, i see her, and i love her for everything that she is” he whispered while nodding convincingly
“No Niklaus, no she doesn’t know that. She’s young and doesn’t understand the consequences of her own actions-“
“She is not stupid Elijah! I know her, she is bright and smart, she isn’t too young and pathetic, she’s perfect”
“She’s just a girl, an innocent bystander, she has nothing to do with our world do not do this to her” he urged
“She is already in my world, she may aswell be my world and id you for a moment think that you can try to take her from me do not doubt the thought that i will dagger you so many times that you never wake back up”
Elijah swallowed thickly, his next move would have to be careful. It wasn’t safe when Klaus was like this, obsessive. Possessive.
“You shouldn’t be watching her like that” he whispered
“It’s just to see her, so she’s safe” he argued
“Not when she’s..vulnerable. She’s not meant for you to use as a source for your..satisfaction or whatever your perverted mind-“ Klaus cut him off with a hand around his throat, his grip so tight he feared his head would detach from his shoulders
“How dare you? You-you looked at those? You went thought the photos? You saw her? Did you fucking look?” His hybrid face came into play as the image of his brother seeing her naked body entered his mind
“Ni-kl-aus” he struggled but there was no use now. Klaus had snapped his neck in an instant. He needed his dagger now. He was either going to have him in a coffin or stab his eyes out
“You should really mind your own business Elijah, it’s rude to pry.” He uttered as he dragged his body to the dungeons. On the way he past that room
The room he had for her. The room that one day, not too far from now, he would be able to bring her to, convince her that their love could finally come together.
After dumping his brothers rotting body he went back to check on his love, he couldn’t bare the thought of someone else seeing her the way he does, that’s why he must always be on standby, ready to kill anyone who looked at her for more than a second.
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octuscle · 1 year ago
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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.
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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!"
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Full service and guaranteed customer satisfaction. That's what Ed's gas station was famous for.
Inspirations found @pitstainsandpas and @fanofshoes44
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katyawriteswhump · 10 months ago
Text
Bed of Roses (steddie love month, day 17)
For @steddielovemonth, Day 17 prompt: Love is about a hand reaching out to you so you don't get lost (@yournowheregirl ) Thank you <3
Rating: M. CW: prostitution, unwanted kink/abuse/pet-names (NOT between Steddie) alcoholism, substance abuse. Tags: rockstar Eddie, rent-boy Steve, make-up fic, angst, shameless perversion of Bon Jovi lyrics. WC: 2,000.
...
“'Cause a bottle of vodka's still lodged in my head…”
In his dressing room, pre-show, Eddie grasped his second bottle of vodka in an unsteady hand.
“…and some blonde gave me nightmares; I think that she’s still in my bed.”
This was NOT GOOD. Eddie had gotten sap-fest Bon Jovi lyrics slithering around his brain. He couldn’t for the life of him remember his own lyrics.
“Hey, Amigo,” he announced to the vodka. “I got a venue of ten thousand to entertain, and you’re literally my Obi-Wan—my only hope.” He caressed the bottle’s label. “80% proof, huh, Baby?” 
I’m serious, Eddie, you’ve had enough. You WANT to follow Kurt Cobain into the 27-Club?
Riiiight. That was not a Bon Jovi lyric. That sounded more like Steve Harrington, in sensible-parent mode, hands planted on his slender hips.
The tears struck fast. Eddie clonked the bottle onto the dressing table then followed it, pressing his heavy head to the glass.
He seriously didn’t want to die. However, he was so through with this life. Of any life, without Steve. The cavity where his heart once lay veered between grating emptiness and an unbearable pain. 
His fingers twitched toward the bottle. Screw it, the show must go on, and he’d lost his only light in the darkness…
“… as I dream about movies, they won't make of me when I'm dead.” 
That still wasn’t one of his own darn lyrics. In fact, he couldn’t remember a single goddamn word of any of Corroded Coffin’s songs.
A sharp knock on the dressing-room door had him squealing like a little piggy. An old guy poked his head in.
“Who the hell are you?”
“You hired me, Mr Munson. Dirk Gordon—Private Dick?” 
“Ah… Yeah, so I did.” Eddie’s rotten heart hammered way too fast. “Have you..?"
“Yes, Mr Munson. I believe I’ve found him.”
“What do you mean, you're not gonna pay me?” Steve wrapped his arms tight around himself. The only heating in his boss’s rundown office came from the guy’s endless chain of cigarettes. “I spent the whole evening simpering at that old dragon. You told me she liked music—I talked music endlessly.”
“You yammered on about some death-metal garbage. She likes Wagner.”
Steve wrinkled his nose. “What’s Wagner? That crusty old film-star?”
“Oh, Steve, Steve, Steve. What am I gonna do with you?” His boss sauntered around the desk and hooked an arm around him.
Jesus, you stink.
“You’re good-looking, kid, you’re charming, but you simply can’t cut it with that kind of high-end client.”
“She seemed happy.” Steve shrugged his shoulders, failing to shake the guy off him. “She paid you, right?”
“Not the full whack, and you got a fancy meal out of the bitch. Look, I’ll give you your cut, if you do better tonight.”
He squeezed the back of Steve’s neck. Steve tried not to shudder. When his boss produced a piece of paper and wedged it down the back of Steve’s skin-tight jeans, he stopped trying to hide his revulsion.
“Details are all there. He’s a banking exec, early forties—no more dinners and dances with Doris, you’re spending the night at his house.”
A dry lump clogged Steve’s throat. “Is he gonna want..?”
“Sex? Christ on a bike, what trade do you think you’re in?” He squeezed Steve’s butt.
“Jesus fu—” Steve bit his lip, fixed on his damp sneakers. 
“Believe me, Steve, your hair ain’t your best asset. You’re gonna have to sell that plump lil’ ass for real, sooner or later.”
Steve flinched, then schooled his features as blankly as he could. 
“This guy’s got a few kinks, but as Johns go, he’s a pussycat.” He lifted Steve’s drooping chin with his knuckles. “Show him what ya got, Sport.”
Steve couldn’t get out into the drab morning fast enough. He retrieved the paper from his underwear, shoved it in a pocket unread, then stumbled, zombie-like, into a diner. “Black coffee, please? It’s an emergency.” 
The waitress smiled. “You want breakfast, Steve?”
He shook his head, though his stomach grumbled.
He ended up slumped on the table, his face pillowed in his arms. Christ, ‘male escort’ had never seemed like a great idea, but he’d figured the pay would beat waiting tables. So how come he was still behind on his rent, and that he still couldn’t afford to eat some days, let alone buy his pain meds?
He muffled a miserable laugh in his elbow. He genuinely wished he could afford to get smashed, get high, because nothing could fill that gaping black hole of pain. Even worse, one of his fave Bon Jovi songs was playing on the radio, and SO not helping:
“Tonight I won't be alone, but you know that don't mean I'm not lonely.” Shit! He was fighting back dumbass tears already. “I got nothing to prove, for it’s you I’d die to defend.”
Why the hell did he run away? He can’t recall any reason that mattered anymore. “I’m sorry, Eddie,” he mumbled. “I miss you so much.”
Somebody touched his elbow, and he jolted up. “Sorry, hon,’” said the waitress, “we need this table for dine-in customers.”
“Right.” Steve swiped any tell-tale moisture from his cheekbones.  “I’ll clear outta your way.”
...
“Ready for playtime, Bunny Rabbit?”
Steve’s skin crawled, and his face burned. He’d gotten his head in the client’s lap, and the guy was playing with his hair. It would be tolerable, he guessed, if he’d not so often laid in Eddie’s lap like this, and… Christ, Eddie! Steve shut out the unwanted touching and began to drift. He was so beyond tired. And that song from the diner crept back:
“Now as you close your eyes, know I'll be thinking about you. While my mistress—she calls me to stand in her spotlight again…”
The pinch on his cheek startled Steve back to the present. “You kipping there, Bunny Rabbit?”
“Uh… er, sorry, Daddy.” Uuuuuuurgh! “Whatever you want, Daddy.” He dared sit up. “I’ll grab a condom and, uh… stuff.”
“Hey, hey, hey.” When Steve went to rise, his arm was grabbed, and he was held in place. “I don’t like rubbers, Cutie.”
“You heard of this thing called AIDS?” Dipshit!
Steve wrenched his arm free. The guy raised his hand and slapped him. Which wasn’t exactly out-of-the-blue, because face-slapping had been listed among this repellent son-of-a-bitch’s kinks.
“I’m paying top whack for you.” He leaned over Steve, suddenly kinda huge and scary, not least because Steve now saw double. “Your pimp said you were clean, so I’m gonna have you any way I like.”
“I… uh…” Steve kicked the bastard’s shin and shoved him hard. “Go to hell, asshole.” 
He fled out into the night, still dizzy from the blow. He pulled his mesh vest back on over his head. The icy wind bit, and he realised he’d left his only jacket behind.
“Jesus Christ! JESUS CHRIST!” He kicked a lamppost, holding back on venting the true force of his feelings. Still hurt.
He limped off up the street, fast as he could. The ache in his toes at least distracted him from the ringing in his ears. An hour later, he stumbled around the corner of his block, thinking only of throwing himself into his bed, while he still had one.
He was so close, when the hairs on the back of his neck stood suddenly on end. Through the haze of his exhaustion, he realised a car crawled up the gutter behind him.
Had Mr Happy-Slappy-Sleazebag come after him? Then again, Steve’s pursuer could be anybody. After all, he was walking through a red-light district, shivering his ass off.  Dressed like the whore I am. Hahaha!
The car pulled up right beside him. A blacked-out window rolled down.
Steve ran, turning sharp up a dark alley, then… Shit, shit, SHIT AGAIN! He was only a hundred yards from his digs, and yet he was so messed-up that he’d sprinted up a dead-end.
He nearly kicked the bricks. Instead, he punched them, as if that would blast through the solid wall. He turned about, bit his grazed fist, and sank slowly onto his haunches. 
Two figures approached up the alley, silhouetted against the lights of the street behind. Get up, Harrington! GET UP! His legs wouldn’t obey, and his breaths came only as rapid gasps. Nothing felt real anymore. Am I gonna die..? I’m gonna die!
A hand stretched out of the gloom.
Steve stared at it—at the familiar chunky silver rings, which couldn’t be real. He glanced up, and… wtf? It was Eddie, apart from it wasn’t Eddie. This dude looked more like Eddie’s ghost. Steve’s eyes fluttered closed.
Maybe I scored some Benzos after all, and totally ODd.
“Stevie?”
No mistaking that voice. If this was a trip, it was a good one. Steve pried an eye open, and Eddie’s hand was still there. Steve took it, let it help him to his feet, because… Why not? Suddenly, they were in each other’s arms, clasping each other tightly. This is real. You’re real!  Eddie reeked of booze, and also of something devastatingly comforting and familiar. Somebody’s wretched sobs shook through them both.
“I’m s-sorry.” Steve sounded broken. “I-I honestly don't know why I left anymore. I was such an idiot.”
“No. I was the idiot. I’m sorry, too. So very fucking sorry.” Eddie sniffed hard, lifted his tear stained cheek from Steve’s shoulder. “I’ve not been doing so good without you.”
Steve blinked the moisture from his vision. He wondered if he looked as wrecked as Eddie—red-eyed and waxy pale, under the distant glimmer of the streetlamps. Probably. If he hadn't leaned against Eddie, his legs would’ve given out again.
He laughed, without knowing why. Eddie laughed too, and it warmed Steve’s soul. “Gonna be honest, Eddie—not been doing so good without you, either.”
When Eddie got out of rehab, Steve waited on the steps of the clinic, hand stretched out to take his. He pulled Eddie close, and then into a sweet, lingering kiss that renewed Eddie more thoroughly than even a lengthy booze-free sleep.
“I’m never going through that again,” said Eddie, his lips still brushing against Steve’s.
Not least because I never ever want to be parted from you again, even for a fortnight.
“Yeah, but you’re dry, Eddie, and you’re alive. I’d say that’s goddamn metal of you.”
They started back to the car, hands still clasped tightly. “Not gonna take credit, Stevie. You’re what got me through.”
“You might’ve got me out of a fix, so we’re even.” Steve’s sigh rode on a wistful sadness. “I mean, I was so lost. Thinking of you was all that kept me… I dunno, alive, I guess. You know, I kept on thinking about that Bon Jovi song.”
“Uh, you know how I feel about Bon J—"
Too late. Steve burst into song: “Well, I'm so far away, each step that I take is on my way home. A king's ransom in dimes I'd give each night to see through this pay-phone—”
Eddie pressed fingers to his boyfriend’s parted lips. “As much as I hate cutting you off in your prime—two teensy-weensy issues. Firstly, I had no idea where you were, and you never called! Second, what’s wrong with my blood-and-death drenched lyrics?”
Steve took Eddie’s fingers and kissed them: “Hurt too much to think about them.”
“You know what, Sweetheart? Hurt too much to sing them, without you around. Even though none of them are actually love songs.” Eddie raised his gaze to the heavens, and looped his arms around Steve. “Go figure.”
“You sure they’re not love songs? C’mon—they’re all secretly about me, right? Only coded or something. I’ll crack it one day.”
Steve’s gently mocking smile destroyed him, in the best possible way. They tumbled into a French kiss, and he resigned himself willingly to the only thing that mattered: 
“And the truth is… Baby, you’re all that I need.”
...
Thanks for reading <3 Likes, comments and reblogs always much appreciated :)
(also part of my steve whump fic series on ao3).
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leeharkersblouse · 5 days ago
Text
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
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“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.
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rreskk · 1 year ago
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Fire and quickies
A wonderful request by @ebonyyelliss! She had requested: "Reader is apart of the unholy trinigy and she's just as aggressive as Trevor. They get back from a mission and... you know." From TikTok.
Summary: Drunken fights, drunken fights!
TW: -Smut
Pairings: Fem!reader/Trevor Philips
Word count: 1287
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Michael was dragging you both by the wrists after the mission went successfully swell. However, through your excitement, you and Trevor grew hasty with aggression due to the booze provided. Shared characteristics of erratic fury, screaming occurred – and very mild, unrealistic threats. Your foreheads were pressed together, his finger poking your chest as you labelled him every insult your drunken mind could think of.
“Fucking lunatics…” Mikey murmured when separating you both with his body. Trevor was jerking closer, his eyes itching to see blood but he was thrown back before the chance was even there.
“She started it all,” His annoying voice began, “She’s asking for it!”
And you had to rile him up more;
“Shut the fuck up! You wanted me to take the piss! Your smug ass face!”
Trevor’s eyes twitch and his jaw clenched tighter. His eyelids were droopy as the consumption of alcohol started to mess with his mobility. He could still stand, but needed Michael for some support.
“Calm the fuck down! We just did a score! Can you two chill the fuck out?” The poor guy tried to infer like he was walking on fire.
“She needs to fucking apologise.”
“I am not apologising for shit, SUGAR!” You huffed.
Michael grunted when Trevor had escaped his grasp. The tantrum-haver stomped closer until you were face to face again. He stared down at you, silence fulfilling the surrounding air.
So far, you barely made it out of the safe-house (AKA, the strip-club’s tacky office). Being cornered against the wall, the door was only inches away yet if you tried to reach, he’d easily assist your hand away.
“Alright, that’s enough! – “
“Shut the fuck up, Mikey… Just shut the… Fuck… Up…” Trevor mouthed, his focus not leaving you.
With the confidence that randomly spurred, you grabbed the collar of his T-shirt and handled him back. Instead of finding offence, he just grinned. The grinned widened when you also returned his gnarly grin. Whatever happened to the mutual fury? It was clearly replaced with this weird, playful tone. Trevor kept on stepping forward, only to be thrown back. He found every time more and more and more enjoyable before he grabbed your shoulders, holding you under his control for a few seconds.
“You drive me insane…” He slurred.
Michael evacuated the room after his over-exhaustion dealing with you both. He closed the door behind him; leaving you both alone, private.
“Hey, hey…” You coyly smirked, “You started it.”
“Of course I did. I just wanted to see you go batshit insane, ay?”
“Maybe you wanted more than that.”
“I didn’t know booze made you psychic.” Uttered Trevor, his mouth growing closer to yours.
“Psychic enough to see that boner.” You watched his eyes gaze down to his occurring erection that was straining in his pants. He’d smirk, pressing this heated sensation against your clothed crotch. His hands immediately left your shoulders in order to position himself more… Steadily.
And you gasped when he had you rock against his boner. Your jean pants both rubbed together, the material warming overtime. This dry humping made him groan a few times while you nibbled your lip to reduce noise that would entertain him.
“C’mon…” He whined after noticing your lack of noise, “I wanna hear you.”
“I still hate you…” Your arms wrapped around his shoulders to engage in the closeness.
Trevor smirked, “You’re always in denial, sugar.”
“Maybe… But I’d rather be denial on you right now.”
He licked his lips before pressing sloppy kisses against your neck, forcing you to break and make these unwilling moans. His name stained your tongue with every trail of saliva he left on your skin. It was hot, gooey, sticky, desirable. He kept you grinding against his cock as well. The double sensation played heavy as penetration (without the real happening).
“More… More…” You ushered with a sense of rush.
Trevor dismissed your request and kept his pace painfully slow.
“Trevor, baby.”
You felt him giggle in the narrow of your neck.
“Trevor, this isn’t funny…” Your voice shaking.
“More, more, more, more.” He excitedly mocked and bullied your whining. He returned from your skin and looked down at your touching crotches. You could tell by the way his eyes flustered more awake, you could tell he wanted it to happen now. Right here, right now.
“Trevor…” You’d attempt to seduce but it seems as though you had already lured him since he hurried, shaking his trousers off and rubbing himself raw.
“I want you, fuck me. Fuck.” He was totally eye-fucking you when removing his items of clothes. With the wink of an eye, it persuaded you to follow his lead, and soon enough, you were undressing each other with feral fingers. The moment your breasts were freed, he hungrily sucked and molested them with that nasty mouth.
“Trevor!”
“I need you…” He muffled from your tits that were beginning to swell red at his needy, possessive, rough hands.
“Ohhh, you’re asking for it.” You repeated his past arguments with a smug grin. Trevor flinched and covered your mouth with a hand. He leaned closer, thinking he was going to threaten you again, but he instead licked the lobe of your ear. The weak spot was violated, your legs trembling.
“Need some help standing?” That husky voice making your spine shiver.
“Fuck you…”
“I ain’t wasting no time here, babe. I want you, now!” And he grabbed your waist, smothering his free dick that huddled at the warmth of your thighs. He throbbed like a vibrator. Your skin smoothened his arousal before he aggressively attacked your lips with his own.
Tumbling around the walls of his office, the make-out session led to you being bent over his desk with the clutter thrown onto the floor. You had your hands holding the corners, your vagina being utterly destroyed by the penis that was thrusting in and out with rapid face.
“FUCK!” You’d cry, “More, more! Harder!”
“I love you, I fuckin’… MARRY ME!” Trevor protested when making home inside you, his hips rocking with the rhythm of your high-pitched moans. Being drunk and all, it made the foreplay… Easier to skip. You both are too impatient sober, causing this quick mess when the ounce of booze hits your tongue.
“Trevor, Trevor! More! Fucking more! Fuck me!”
“Ah – “ He grasped your hair and yanked it, your whole upper body being forced up from the desk.
Heavily relying on his control was relatively easy considering he was toying you around like a doll. His hands clenched your hair-strands, cock fucking you stupid, his mouth allowing drool to seep from his mouth and onto your soaked back.
“Oh, yeah… Oh yeah, so good…” You praised.
“I’m gonna… I’m gonna fuckin’ cum in you…”
“Trevor, please!”
He hunched forward and grabbed your ass with all his might. You gasped at the intense groping. Suddenly, the pouring warmth of his cum draining from your cunt startled your upmost consciousness. Trevor was moaning your name euphuistically. He had his face buried in your hair while his orgasm continued to merge with yours. Cum would mix, his semen devouring yours within your pussy. It was the hunger games remade.
“Fuccckkk!” One last whine left your tainted lips and now you were leaning against the desk. You maybe had climaxed the booze out of your system as you were left awake, alive, heads-on in reality. It gave you that boost which was abused from the mission the hours prior.
“I fuckin’ love you, so much… God! I’m… Yeah…” He tiredly mumbled to you with his hands cradling your tummy.
“Maybe I don’t hate you.”
“Shut up and hold me, babe.”
You grinned, “Mm, fine.”
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redfoxwritesstuff · 8 months ago
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Sunflower: Book 1, Chapter 14
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Tom Hiddleston x OFC Series rated: M Chapter warnings: A bit high PG13 in our flashback and some anxiety. AN: Dude, I'm still fucking sick. Also, I edited and posted this while working because I'm sick and it's Friday and fuck these doctors, they don't get to dump dictation on me at the end of the week and be like "It's urgent." No, fuck you and the horse you rode in on, it's not Urgent if you didn't do it till now.
~~~~~<3
Mia slept like a rock but was up right on time. Of course, on time wasn’t late enough. She rarely got enough sleep when she worked nights but she would make up for that later, she always did.
Peeking in on Sally, she found the little one still asleep. It was seven in the morning, she would be waking soon. Generally, she wasn’t one to sleep in. 
Mia took the chance to make breakfast in her new kitchen. The task wasn’t terribly difficult, even though she hadn’t even had a chance to unpack thanks to each box being labeled so clearly with the contents. Having a packing and moving crew was surely worth every penny Tom had paid for them. 
~~~~~<3
Sally sat at their little dining table, too small for the space- something Mia never thought would be a problem in her life as pancakes were set in front of her. They had a busy morning ahead of them. 
Ikea opened at ten and Mia had every intention of being there at opening. She intended to find a nice enough couch that was also affordable. Tom had probably intended for them to get a nicer couch than an Ikea special but he wasn’t here to stop her. She was unsupervised with his credit card.
The ping of her phone drew her attention. It was a text message form Ashley with a link. “Your man was on The Late Show.” 
Sally was coping well with Tom’s absence so far. Mia didn’t want to risk ruining that when she had such a busy day ahead of them by reminding her that Tom had left so rather than just following the link, she spent time digging out her headphones from her purse. 
“Momma,” Sally called, “Can I get something pretty for my new room?” 
“Yeah, sure. We’ll see what we can find.” Mia was paying more attention to jabbing an earbud in her ear. “Finish eating while I get dressed, alright?”
~~~~~<3
Mia wasn’t one to watch late night TV. She was either sleeping or she was working. Plus the famous person or politician or whoever chatting with a host about movies wasn’t really her thing. 
She set her phone down on her dresser as she traded out her pj pants for a pair of jeans. The screen loaded onto a man already talking to Tom. It must have been a clip from the show, not the whole segment. As she got dressed, she couldn’t help but be absorbed in the short video.
~~~~~<3
“You were just in Vegas, right?” The man said, leaning forward in his chair. His dark hair was cut short yet somehow still just a little wild. He had large eyes and the infectious smile of a late night comedian. 
“I was, yes.” Tom smiled.
“It was an eventful few days I hear. You got up to some stuff.”
Tom chuckled. “Eventful yes, you could say that.” 
“And you left with some bling.” Tom’s fingers twitched ever so slightly as the ring was pointed out. He wasn’t sure where this was going but he knew he needed to tread carefully. “There’s pictures!” The man said, “Bring on the pictures.”
The screen switched to Tom and Mia running down the hall, her white dress flowing and sparkly high heels glittering in the too bright lights of a hotel hallway. her face was obscured by Tom’s shoulder but his face was clearly visible.
His cheeks were bright red though if they didn’t know he was out of his mind wasted, they could believe it was from the private moment being intruded on. 
The picture switched to them kissing in the bar some time earlier. Dim lights gave them a warm glow and they had drinks in front of them. Tom’s hand was on her neck and hers was resting on his thigh as she leaned forward. Her face was obscured by his as she leaned into the kiss. 
“You’ve kept a romance under warps, Mr. Hiddleston.” The host teased. Color flushed Tom’s cheeks.
“I do like to keep my private life to myself.”
“And how long have you too been together?”
“That’s private.” Tom dodged. “But all anyone needs to know is I care for her deeply otherwise I wouldn’t have married her.” 
“So it’s not a ‘what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas’ situation?” The host pressed. 
“I’m as married today as I was Friday night.” Tom reiterated. 
“Tell us about her!” The host propped his head up in his hands. If it was possible, he would have had hearts in his eyes. It was clear that the host and Tom had a report and were familiar with each other in a friendly way. 
“She’s not a public figure.” Tom started, picking his words carefully. “Her privacy is important and I want to respect that. She’s not married to Actor Tom, she’s married to me and that’s a beautiful thing. Her name is Mia and-”
“Mia!” The host cried, popping up in his seat. “What a lovely name.” 
“She’s lovely.” Tom agreed and on the other side of the country, in a different time and place Mia’s face got hot. “She’s absolutely wonderful and we’re looking forward to our future.” 
The host continued to lightheartedly press for details but Tom stood firm. They showed a few more pictures from that night neither could remember but not a single image showed her face with the exception of the picture of them going into the restaurant over the weekend. 
Had no one gotten a clear shot of her? That didn’t seem likely. Had Tom known ahead of time and asked for her face to be hidden? Was her makeup smeared and her face being hidden to protect their dignity? 
~~~~~<3
“I’m done!” Sally yelled from the dining table, throwing Mia back into reality. Perhaps not reality, in a strange way what was happening on the screen was very much a part of her reality. No, her daughter’s voice had served throw her back into the present more than anything. 
“Go get washed up.” Mia called, slipping a shirt over her head and quickly finishing getting herself dressed. 
~~~~~<3
Ikea was overwhelming, as it always was. There were too many people, too much stuff and in general, far too much stimulation. But she would get through it and in the end she would be rewarded with Swedish meatballs. That was just how trips to Ikea went. You survived and then indulged in cafeteria food. She didn’t make the rules. 
They sat on couch after couch as she picked which one would be best for the space. None of them really felt big enough but she was not going to go somewhere with more expensive sofas. That wasn’t an option. She would just have a lot of empty space in her living room. More room for Sally to play. 
The one they picked was one of the largest. Under the cushions were storage compartments. It was a few hundred dollars and would likely break down after a few short years at best, needing to be replaced but she didn’t care. 
While she hadn’t planned on it, she went ahead and got herself a pair of matching end tables and lamps to set on them. While the apartment had plenty of overhead lamps, there was a warmth that came from table lamps that she loved. 
Sally picked out a soft rug to put on the floor. All in all, Mia didn’t feel too bad about the spending. It was less than a couch would have been if she went to Ashley’s Furniture or somewhere similar like Tom had probably intended. 
The lamps were on clearance and that helped keep the cost low. The tables were the cheapest they had. Hopefully Tom wouldn’t mind. 
~~~~~<3
Mia was anxious as she stood in line waiting. She had paid for their lunches with her own debit card but this was going to go on Tom’s card. She had no plan B for if it didn’t go through. 
It was a international card, wasn’t it? Would it go through okay? What would she do if it didn't? What if they asked for her ID? 
It was irrational, she knew that. Tom was traveling and had been spending money without issue on this card for as long as he was there from what she had seen. Places rarely asked for ID for credit card transactions anymore. There was so much fraud protection that it had just fallen to the wayside. 
All the stress was for nothing. The card went through perfectly fine. No one asked her who she was to use it. No one questioned her. No one said “stop!”. It went perfectly, painlessly fine. As part of her knew it would.
The furniture would be delivered the next day. It was surreal to spend so much money at any one time. But it was done and she survived the flood of panic that came with spending his money. In the moment though, as she swiped his card, she thought she was going to revisit her Swedish meatballs. 
Would it get easier over time? Mia decided she’s really rather not find out. If she had her way, she wasn’t going to be doing anymore major spending on his card, at all. It was better she didn’t get used to this. Tom wouldn’t always be there to financially save her. He wouldn’t always be there to replace her couch. This was temporary. 
Sitting in the car before leaving IKEA, she shot a text to Tom letting him know she had spent his money as he had requested and how much the total was. 
She hadn’t heard from him all day. In the morning she had assumed he was still sleeping after working the late night appearances but now it was quickly becoming afternoon without a word. 
What did it mean? Why wasn’t he texting her? 
It drove her insane the rest of the day. She checked her phone repeatedly for a hello or even so much as an acknowledgment of the purchases.
 Nothing came however, leaving her to wrestle with the thousands of ‘what if’s that quickly took up residence in her mind. Time after time she started text messages only to delete them instead of sending. 
It was fine if he didn’t text her, right? It was okay if they didn’t talk, right? They were just strangers, really, at the end of the day. This was fine. 
~~~~~<3
The elevator walls were not mirrored but the polished stone may as well have been. Dark copies of the bride and groom surrounded them. They were alone and yet not, in this magical space. 
Tom advanced on her slowly. She matched every step he took forward with one of her own backwards. There wasn’t enough air in the elevator car as it moved up and up. 
Her heart was on cloud nine and the evaluator was taking the rest of her there. 
She couldn’t breathe. It felt like she was gasping for air in all the best ways before her back hit the polished stone wall. There was no where else to go. She couldn’t take any more steps backward. 
Her future didn’t stop just because her back hit the wall. Was this a sign of what her life would be like? Was this what her future with him would be like? Advancing faster than she could keep up? 
Her future put his hands against the stone on either side if her head, palms flat and fingers splayed. His elbows buckled and then he was supporting his weight with his forearms, oh so much closer than he had been.
His face hovered just inches from hers. His breath smelled strongly of whiskey but the air around him smelled of his cologne. The mix of the two together was intoxicating.
Leaning forward, she closed the distance. The soft velvet of his lips felt amazing against hers. There was a light stubble to his face, hardly visible but as he pushed into her, she could feel it. 
She wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands roamed around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Pinned between him and the wall, she didn’t have anywhere to go. There wasn’t anywhere she wanted to go. 
His hands groped her ass through the layers and layers of fabric that made up the skirt of her dress. Pulling up and forward, he had her off her feet. Wrapping her legs around him, only possible due to the many folds of the skirts, she embraced her future closer, trying to wrap herself around the very concept.
His lips left hers and made their way down her neck, leaving a path of damp butterfly kisses down to her collar bone. Nipping and sucking at the soft flesh had her squirming in his arms. 
The elevator wasn’t moving fast enough. There wasn’t a way she could get enough of him in here. At least, there was no legal way. There were cameras in the elevators and the halls. Again and again she told herself that.
His hand was large and warm. The warmth soaked into her breast. She arched into his touch. His touch was firm and strong. Muscles twitched and moved under her hands as she slipped them into his jacket after struggling with the buttons. 
She hadn’t felt like this in years. It was more intoxicating than all the wine they had shared. She felt powerful. Desirable. Wanted. 
Was this what love felt like? Was this what it felt like to be loved? It was the best feeling in the world. 
~~~~~<3
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