#sir your t!ts are out

[princedevitt]

[cin-cant-donate-blood]

Ever wanted to know how to pronounce the name of our favorite Ur copper merchant, Ea-nāṣir? If you haven't looked it up, I can almost guarantee that you are saying it wrong, but fret not. I will share the secret with you (or at least the buest guess modern experts have).

The reconstruction of how to pronounce his name currently looks like this in the IPA:

[e.a.ˈnaː.t͡sʼiʁ]

If that looks daunting, keep reading.

While Ea-nāṣir may be remembered to us as a Sumerian, he did not speak Sumerian. The Sumerian language was all but extinct in his day, and Sumerians now spoke an unrelated language called Akkadian.

The infamous complaint tablets are written in Akkadian Cuneiform, which is a complicated writing system that it is difficult to figure out the pronunciation of after the fact. Pronunciations have shifted considerably during the time that modern people have studied it. All the same, we have a "buest guess" at pronunciation.

The first thing to note is that Akkadian has phonemic vowel quantity, which is a fancy way if saying that the length of a vowel is really important. Ea-nāṣir's name has four vowels, and three are short and one is long. The long one is the A with a bar on top (called a macron, pronounced MACK-ron or MAKE-ron). If you see that symbol in other languages it is probably also a long vowel (you'll see this in Arabic, Latin, and many other languages).

This also tells us where to stress the word. While Akkadian has somewhat complicated rules for stress, Ea-nāṣir's case is simple: stress the syllable with the long vowel.

The vowels themselves are the vowels you would find in Spanish, Japanese or Swahili: the E is closest to the English vowel in dress, the As are between trap and palm, just like Spanish gato, and the I is somewhere around sheep or fear.

So far, intuitively, you're probably pronouncing it something like "e-a-NAW-sir", which is getting closer to the accurate idea, but we haven't looked at the consonants yet, and unfortunately they are the hardest parts (for an English speaker).

The N is just a regular N. This isn't too surprising since N is one of the single most common sounds across all spoken languages (perhaps only beaten by M).

The R, while contested among scholars, seems to be leaning towards a "back R" or "guttural R", the way French people and some Germans do it.

That leaves the ṣ. Oh boy. It is, first of all, an affricate, like the Z in pizza. "e-a-NAAT-sir" would as such be a good try. It is, however, also something called an ejective, which is a notoriously tricky type of consonant where you block the airflow while saying it, only to release it immediately after.

You know the T-dropping that some brits do, or the way you rapidly close off air flow at the back of your throat when saying ah-ah-ah (and perhaps wagging your finger)? Try putting an air release like that right after the ts sound. If the closest you get is "e-a-NAT-suh-ir" then you are already doing a good job.

If you are a perfectionist, here is an old youtube video of a person making the noise, with decent audio.

And that's it, really. That is a complete breakdown of the best guess we have at how Ea-nāṣir's name would have been pronounced.

[explicitred]

Dottore's Experiments

June 17, Post 13 of the "30 Days Fanfic Event"

Dottore x Male Reader

I TRIED DOING A KISSING SCENE FOR THE FIRST TIME GUYS

(mentions of experiments, kissing scene, almost caught?, dottore on our lap, suggestive??) highest voted in Dottore's Headcanons poll

Mad crazy scientist who involves you in his experiments

Of course, he wouldn’t put you into harmful experiments on purpose to hurt you.

Oh, no. He would take extra precautions and ensure your safety.

But alas, these “experiments” are not exactly what you are thinking.

Pushing you into a chair and straddling your lap, Dottore's hands held onto your shoulders.

“Hm, now what is this ‘experiment’ about, this time?” You inquire, as your hands find their way to his hips. 

He slyly smirked, “Well, why don’t you find out for yourself?”

Dottore took off his mask and quickly smashed his lips against yours. His half-lidded red eyes slowly started forming hearts in them.

He moaned in the kiss, panting afterward for air.

Your hand found itself in his hair, pushing him against you for another round of kissing.

Prodding his lower lip with your tongue, you silently requested him to open his mouth.

Dottore’s lips slightly parted, allowing you access to the inside of a wet cavern.

Just before exploring his mouth, two knocks were heard on the door.

Dottore stood up while you were still sitting, walking to whoever ruined his time with you when it was just getting exciting.

He frowned as he answered the door, clearly unpleasantly displeased and angry.

“What?” Dottore spoke in a harsh tone, causing the Fatui Agent who knocked to be scared.

“U-Uh, sir. T-The Ts-Tsaritsa needs y-you…”

“Scram.”

"Y-Yes!"

The agent quickly fled.

Dottore sighed and began fixing his disheveled hair, “Let's finish this another time, dear.”

hehe:

“What?” Dottore spoke in a harsh tone, causing the Fatui Agent who knocked to be scared.

“U-Uh, sir. T-The Ts-Tsaritsa said th-that she could h-hear you a-all the w-way from t-the basement...”

“Bro, I was trying to f-"

"S-Sorry!"

The agent quickly fled, traumatized.

[onlycrystal]

can you do mating press nanami + breeding kink??? I hope you don't mind, hihi

blowin' off steam

CW: sub!reader, dom!nanami, breeding kink (duh), you call nanami sir and daddy, etc (sorry I got lazy w tags) 😭

Authors note: hi! this is gonna be a little shorter since its a bit more of a simple request <3 also this was long over-due so sorry!

you gasped and moaned, lewd sounds echoing off the walls of your bedroom. as your eyes slammed shut and your hands made a sad attempt at gripping the grey-colored sheets of the bed, your fiancé, nanami, had just gotten back from work, ripping his tie off in a hasty matter, dropping his briefcase to the ground, as he walked over to you. looking at the clock you realized that it was past 6:00, which meant he worked overtime. whenever he works overtime, he gets so tense and stressed, and you, his perfect little girl, is always there for him to blow off some steam after days like these.

which led you to now, stuck in mating press, getting utterly rammed into by nanami who grunted with each thrust. the position made him hit your g-spot so well, and you were overwhelmed with pleasure "s-sir, 'ts t-too much!~ cant- aah - take it! hnng...~" your eyes filled with tears as you felt so helpless against his toned body. nanami's eyes looked down at you with pure lust, not faltering whatsoever.

"stop whining like a fucking baby, you can take it. you - shit - always do." he responded in a harsh tone. how could someone so loving be so cold to you? but his tone just turned you on further. his words went straight to your pussy as you started to clench around him harshly. "you like that? lil' - ah - brat, heh"

"fuckfuckfuck daddy~! m' close~" you moaned out. you could tell he was too by the way his thrusts slowly started to get sloppy and that uniform personality of his started to unravel as he threw his head up and groaned.

"'m gonna fill you up, you want all of daddys cum? gonna put a baby in you, honey~" he groaned.

you moaned loudly as you came, and heard nanami moan as he came inside you, youfelt yourself fill up from his cum.

"now, lets make sure it doesnt leak out~ gonna fuck it right back into you."

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Just another late night tho(ugh)ts about my boys (a lot of subby sugar baby ish Steve coming your way)

Imagine naked Steve with a fully dressed Bucky....a really mean fully dressed Bucky

Imagine Steve on the edge of their shared bed, face down ass up with his hands held behind his back while his sir stands behind him (in a suit 👀) , toying with his already abused hole.

His sir has been fingering him for a while, stretching his sweet obediant baby open with two fingers, purposely missing his prostate despite his baby's silent sobs.

Steve is physically trembling, it's almost humiliating.

Steve can't grind back, he couldn't, he wants to be still, he wants to take whatever his sir gives him even if it's torturous. However, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't desperate for Bucky to at least touch his prostate just a little bit, knowing for a fact Bucky could find his prostate with his eyes closed.

"S- Sir" Steve gasps out "Please hngh! i need- i need more"

"You need more, honey?" Bucky asks almost in a sarcastic tone, sending shivers down Steve's spine as he hears the sweet nickname somehow turning harsh as soon as Bucky says it out loud. But oh-

Oh God, Sir's finger's right there- right above his prostate, not even an inch away from pressing on it.

"mhhn- haA-" Steve let out a noise that he didn't even know he could make, wordlessly begging for his sir to push just a little bit deeper into him while tugging on his restraints (ropes or cuffs? Hmm) that held his hand still behind his back as he tries his best to hold back from grinding back on sir's long thick fingers.

"Words, sweetheart" Bucky said sternly, humming slightly at the way his baby was melting under him just because he shifted his fingers to another angle.

"Puh- please! Please! i want- i wan' sir deeper in me, i wan' it please!" Steve sobbed into the sheets that he bunched his face into, clenching around his sir's fingers, trying to restrain himself from trying to suck Bucky's fingers deeper in him and trying to- Oh-

"Oh-! oH god! Thank you thank you thank you!" Steve howled as soon as he felt Sir's fingers finally punch into his prostate repeatedly, almost crying in relief as he kept repeating his thank yous.

All Bucky could do was just raise his eyebrows at his baby's reaction, smoothing his hand down Steve's back, knowing he had way more in store for the hot mess in front of him...

Truly yours

- pleading anon

Jesus Christ

How could you do this to me?! 😮‍💨😮‍💨🥴 Like--

I am always here for the pairing of a wrecked partner with composed, basically unbothered partner.

There's just 🤌🏻something🤌🏻 about it. About the complete loss of control vs the complete control. It's delicious. A five course meal, at least.

And the suit--

The 👏🏻 suit 👏🏻

Steve, poor Steve, is naked and writhing (as much as he can when restrained in leather wrist and ankle cuffs, attached together over his back into a hog tie with Bucky spreading his knees apart to get at his hole) and frustrated and then so grateful as he's given what he needs after begging for it. But, all the while, Bucky is fully covered, not even breaking a sweat. Hell, he hasn't even bothered to push up his dress shirt sleeves or take off his suit jacket. He's so precise. Using just enough lube to have his way with Steve but not enough to drip and mess up his nice clothes. It drives Steve insane. Bucky has control. He has composure. He is competent. He knows what he wants, and he will get it.

Even with Steve, he's competent, composed, and in control. He knows exactly what he expects from Steve, and he will get what he wants--what he expects.

Especially with Steve.

Steve wants to be good. He aches to be good.

By the time Steve is through crying out his orgasm and the shakes from such gripping pleasure are gone, he's turning over his shoulder--the only real movement he can make when restrained the way he is--looking back at Bucky with open lips, wracking his brain for the ability to talk. He is more than ready to offer up whatever Bucky wants: his mouth, his stretched, now oversensitive hole, his fingers or hands, even his thighs or his tits. Anything.

Yet, Bucky doesn't say anything; he simply tilts his head to the side ever so slightly, questioning Steve without having to say a word. What? You want something?

Steve wants to get Bucky off, too! As good as he feels now, he knows he'll feel gooder with the knowledge that he's pleased the other man.

However, there's one problem beyond Steve's inability to get his fried brain to move his lips, teeth, and tongue to speak... Bucky is so put together that he's not even hard in his slacks.

How?

Not that Steve can see, at least. It's just the regular, tightly packed bulge of his soft cock in his pants. Nothing more.

And, oh, God, that should make Steve feel ashamed and insecure--was he not enough? Does Bucky not find him attractive? What? But none of those thoughts come. All that happens is a wave of hot, prickly arousal crashing over him. Steve chokes, gut-punched by the sneaker wave. It's such an intense feeling. Here's more proof of how Bucky can control himself. He can control his body. Meanwhile, Steve is at the mercy of his most animal desires--his base instincts that scream for sex. Steve's is simple and easy. Begging and pleading and crying. Stripped down to nothing but naked desperation. The contrast is immense. It couldn't be hotter.

Bucky is so...

So composed.

Not a hair out of place, dressed for business, serious business, and he's just penciled Steve's shameless need in a quick fifteen minute window (fifteen because, yeah, of course, Steve can't even control himself in that regard, always off like a shot with just a taste of pleasure) because he's booked the rest of the day.

Bucky squeezes Steve's bare ass possessively and Steve squirms on the inside, muscles too weak to do it on the outside now, "you're going to let me fuck you when I get home. Before dinner." Bucky tells him. "We can have take-out after--whatever you want."

"Y-yes, sir," Steve says in a rush, unable to keep holding his head up and letting it smack down onto the bed. He feels like he can't breath, all the air has been knocked out of him with how turned on he is.

If he could, he'd hump the mattress. It doesn't matter that he's not hard again yet. He's just...

Turned on.

"Good." Bucky informs him, undoing his cuffs with practiced ease and efficiency.

"Uh-huh," Steve moans, like it matters. Bucky's made up his mind, and Steve will follow. Steve loves to follow.

Thank you so much for this idea, sweetheart!

[stories-and-chaos]

Tarnished pt 21

[Helluva Boss AU where Blitzø’s childhood theft from Stolas’ palace is discovered and major consequences ensue for everyone involved.]

[Part 21/?? Word count: 2248]

—————

The contract signing was much the same from when Fizz won the first year. There were changes to the paperwork and everything was a touch more efficient, but he was still hauled into an office immediately after winning. Fizz was an adult at this point so he didn’t need a co-signer. Not that he had one anymore. 

Fizz and a handful of imps that weren’t at the disastrous party were the only known survivors. There was no sign that Cash or Tilly had survived. Most of the troupe was similarly unaccounted for. 

So unlike his first win, there wasn’t a crowd of familiar faces in the audience. Barb was the only one he recognized in the theater. They had stuck together, supporting each other after everything they had gone through. So even though she wasn’t a fan of Mammon or clowns in general, Barb was there for him.

“Glad to have everything official again, Fizzy my boy!” Mammon chortled, giving the imp a slap on the back. The Deadly Sin had footed the bill for all of Fizzarolli’s medical expenses. Even though their initial agreement only lasted through one year, he had paid for Fizz’s rehabilitation. 

“Happy to be back Mammon, sir!” the imp said enthusiastically. Now was his chance to repay the Sin. He would never have gotten back to the stage this quickly if it hadn’t been for Mammon’s help. And if it had taken too long to get his prosthetics, he might never have been able to perform again. He’d work his ass off for Mammon because of that.

“You know the drill Fizzy, my office first thing tomorrow,” Mammon shoved him out from behind the curtains to interact with his fans. There were a number that remember him from his first win, many of them had merchandise from then for him to sign. He’d garnered a great deal of new fans fascinated by his comeback. Throughout the meet and greet, Barb stayed in his vicinity. She didn’t want any shit going down if she could help it.

Fortunately for everyone, the worst that happened was everyone being awake until the small hours of the morning. Mammon sent his car to Fizz’s apartment bright and early; the clown took a tiny nap on the way to the meeting. “We gotta lot of work Fizzy.” Mammon slapped a blueprint on his eye-burning green desk. “We’re gonna make Robo-Fizzies! Since we gotta rebrand a lot o’ shit from before, might as well make use of your new look. We’ll have Fizzies for every occasion!”

Fizz hadn’t expected that his prosthetics would play much part in Mammon’s plans. “Uhhhh, ya sure we should, Mammon, sir?” He used the robotic limbs, obviously, but they were a tool. He didn’t want everyone to associate them with him. “Won’t that be weird for the fans?”

“Course not!” Mammon stated with greedy cheer. “People love weird shit! ‘Specially those Sinner c**ts in Pride! Why else would they end up in Hell?” He gave Fizz a sharp grin. “They’ll sell like hotcakes in every Ring. Already got ya a meeting with Ozzie, since he’s doing the manufacturing. I told him to give you a tune up while you’re there.” Leaning down, he muttered out of the corner of his mouth, “Plus, if ya put on the charm, maybe he’ll give me a discount on the tune up.” He sent the young man out with a shove and a too broad smile. “Now off to work ya c**t!”

Fizz was intercepted by the costuming department. Since most of his face had been burnt, his skintone was entirely different from the last time they’d worked with him. New colors and fabrics had to be selected before he appeared in public. That and his measurements took up a decent chunk of the morning. Then he was hustled off in Mammon’s car to meet Ozzie.

Still tired from the night before, Fizz fell asleep again in the car. He woke up groggily when the car slowed to a stop. There was a soothing patter of rain on the car roof and when the door open he saw that everything was bathed in a blue light. Wait, we’re in Lust? He had been out hard if he hadn’t noticed traveling to a different Ring. The deep pink tower in front of him was lit from the outside. It was vibrant, modern, and clearly expensive. He felt a wave of distaste at the ostentatious display.

A female succubus, wearing a tight pink dress that complimented the building’s exterior, was waiting for him. “Mr. Fizzarolli?” she asked. He nodded, doing his best not to stare. She was curvaceous and the ‘neckline’ of her dress plunged down past her navel. “Lord Asmodeus is ready for you.”

“As-Asmodeus? I thought I was meeting someone named Ozzie,” he said in confusion as he followed the succubus. She chuckled. “That’s his nickname. One of them anyway.”

“A Deadly Sin is going to meet with me?” Fizz glanced around nervously. The entryway was opulent and sensual. Purple, red, orange, and hints of blue gave the aura of lush warmth. Elegant hearts were incorporated with sexual imagery everywhere. He found himself blushing as he followed; the artwork displayed almost exclusively portrayed nudes and the statues had amazing detail, down to their raging hard erections.

His guide glanced back. “Of course. You’re working for a Deadly Sin and Lord Mammon requested Lord Asmodeus’ personal touch. In here please,” she pressed a button to reveal a glass walled elevator. Passengers could see out into the city and its sparkling neon signs. It was a huge contrast to Greed, with it’s smoky green air and murky waters.

“I guess so,” Fizz had to agree with her. The succubus selected their destination and the elevator sank smoothly. She explained Asmodeus’ factory with the R&D department was mostly situated underground. The ruler of Lust had a research office and workshop within the factory area.

The succubus knocked politely on the door. “Lord Asmodeus, Mr. Fizzarolli is here for your one o’clock meeting.”

“Candy, I keep telling you to drop the ‘Lord’ part. You can just call me ‘Ozzie’ even.” The tall demon stood up from his workbench. He had a white labcoat over his suit; the wrinkles, scorch marks, and worn patches made it clear he didn’t wear it just for show. “Save the formalities for stuck ups like Leviathan or Paimon.” She blushed and stammered “Sorry Lo- Ozzie, sir. I’ll try.”

Asmodeus sent her off and turned his attention to Fizz. The imp froze, standing as stiff as possible. He was alone with a Sin he barely knew about. “Fizzarolli, right? Mam’s told me about you; seems like he’s got some big plans.”

Fizz croaked a response. “Yep, th-that’s me! Heh...heh. Mammon didn’t tell me too much, just something about robots.” He didn’t even say you were another Deadly Sin. “Not really sure what you need me for, but the boss sent me.”

Ozzie huffed, breathing out a heart shaped lick of fire. “Not surprising. Mam loves to be secretive. Let’s chat, yah?” He pulled out chairs by the workbench for both of them. “Mammon wants to make robotic replicas with you as the base model. Mam being Mam, he’s got all sorts of different versions thought up.” The King of Lust unrolled blueprints onto the workspace.

The blueprints showed a very detailed image of a mechanical prototype. Its measurements matched his from the first contest win. “Mammon sent over your info a few years back; he’s been wanting to get these in production since that first pageant win. We mocked up plans back then. Good news is we just need to update your measurements and incorporate new equipment functionality.”

The tall demon looked Fizz up and down. “Speaking of, Mam wants me to give you a tune up I hear.”

“Oh, uh, you don’t gotta do that Oz- Asmodeus, sir.” He still saw his therapist Rodney every few months for check ups and maintenance. He was feeling awkward and flustered enough without the embodiment of Lust having his hands all over him.

“No can do Fizzarolli. Mammon will complain at me for the next century and have you ever heard that guy bitching and moaning? Nuh-uh, I heard enough of that in the 1100’s.” Ozzie shook his head and gestured broadly with his pointer finger. “I’ll get your measurements at the same time.”

With a snap of his fingers, a folding screen manifested in a puff of blue smoke. “I’ll give you a few to get changed.” Asmodeus left the room, clearly expecting Fizz to go along with his instruction. The imp checked behind the screen and found that a chair with a hospital gown folded on the seat had come into existence at the same time. At least he wasn’t going to be mostly naked around the Sin.

Fizz was attempting to tie the gown at the neckline, arms twisted awkwardly behind him. At least with the prosthetics he could reach every part of his back easily. But he had to think extra hard about what  his fingers were doing when he couldn’t see them. There was a sharp knock as the door reopened. Fizz jumped about a foot in the air in surprise. 

“Whoa! Relax little frog.” Asmodeus chuckled, his deep laugh sounding like plush velvet. “Didn’t mean to startle you. All set?”

Fizz decided to give up on that last knot. “Uh, yeah, ready when you are.” Ozzie came around the screen to find the imp sitting nervously on the chair, dressed in the hospital gown. The rooster-like Sin noticed the loose strings dangling from the gown’s neckline. Before grabbing his tools, Ozzie smoothly fastened them into a bow.

Startled by the fingers brushing the nape of his neck, Fizz jumped slightly in his seat. Asmodeus didn’t seem to realize he was humming cheerfully, his motions in time with the melody he created. Despite trying to stay still, the light touch made Fizz shiver. 

But the Sin was professional. His tray of tools was precisely organized, with everything he needed ready to go. He continued humming as he worked, examining each implant and limb thoroughly. “Doing good on your upkeep Fizzarolli,” he complimented as he finished checking the shoulder connections. “Most aren’t this good about it.” He moved onto Fizz’s legs. He’d barely needed any of the cleaning tools so far.

Fizz shrugged. “Kinda stuck without ‘em. I can’t give a good performance if I don’t move right.”

“Dedication, I like that.” Ozzie finished quickly and instructed Fizz to stand for measurements. “They’re in good shape; keep up your maintenance and you’ll be set for awhile.” As he held up measuring tape to Fizz and made notations, he continued talking. “‘Course, we’ve got a new model coming out next year; extendable limbs. Might be good for your act, froggie.”

The imp clown didn’t even want to think about how much that would cost. While that could enhance his performances, affording an upgrade was more than he could manage right now. “I’ll stick with these; Mammon paid for this set and I can’t ask him to buy four more limbs if these work fine,” he declined politely. 

Ozzie tilted his head to the side. “Mmmm, Mam might if we can incorporate that into the Fizzy–bots. He’s all for fancy features on the stuff he sells. ‘Course, it’s only if you want to Fizzarolli.” Fizz agreed to think about it as his stomach interrupted with a loud growl. “Sorry, sir, I haven’t eaten today.”

Asmodeus dropped his pencil and measuring tape in shock. “Mam sent you here before letting you eat anything?” He grabbed the runaway pencil and huffed, his mane of hair starting to glow with frustration. “That fucker. Get dressed Fizzarolli, we can take care of the rest after lunch.” After he got his clothes back on, Fizz found himself escorted into Ozzie’s limousine. The Deadly Sin swept him into a restaurant and the staff immediately seated them in a secluded booth. A sampler of appetizers appeared. Ozzie told him to order whatever he liked for lunch. 

The Sin had been grumbling about how Mammon needed to treat his employees better the whole trip. “And you,” he waggled a breadstick at Fizz, “gotta take care of your whole body, not just the fancy robot parts. Doesn’t matter how good your prosthetic upkeep is if ya don’t keep yourself in good condition froggie.”

“R-right, I’ll do better sir.” Asmodeus raised an eyebrow and told Fizz to call him Ozzie like everyone else. Fizz was saved from further replies by their food arriving. Guess that’s one good thing about royalty, getting fast service. Before he was halfway done with his burger though, Mammon started calling him.

“Nuh-uh, put your phone on silent Fizzarolli,” Ozzie said as he pulled out his own smartphone. “I’ll bet you’ve been going nonstop since the contest last night.” Fizz could only nod, his cheeks full of food. “I’ll text Mammon that you’re working on shit with me, so you relax.”

They ended up chatting over an extended lunch. When Fizz headed back to Greed in the midafternoon, Ozzie gave him a business card that he wrote another phone number on. “That’s my private number, if ya need anything. We can even do another maintenance check and business lunch if you need a break.” Asmodeus gave him a smile with the barest hint of sensual promise. “If you want, Fizzarolli.”

—————

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[hanphamnb]

984- TS 1989 Polaroids Lyrics Deluxe Version Taylor Swift-87

Hi fellow Swifties! Searching for the perfect digital graphic representing Taylor's 1989 album? Check out the 984- TS 1989 Polaroids Lyrics Deluxe Version Taylor Swift-87. As dedicated fans ourselves, we've lovingly crafted this collection drawing inspiration from each era. Download this high-quality file to create customized wall art, apparel, or more showcasing your love for that quintessential album. Whether you're decorating your room or wearing your fandom, it allows you to enjoy the magic of 1989 anytime. It also makes a thoughtful gift for any Taylor lover. Order now to relive the nostalgia! 🎈 USAGE: Can be used with Cricut Design Space, Silhouette Studio (Designer Edition), Make the Cut, Sir Cuts a Lot, Brother, Glowforge, Inkscape, SCAL, Adobe Illustrator, CorelDRAW, ScanNCut2, and any other software or machines that work with SVG/PNG files. Please also make sure you have software that accepts SVG or PNG files before purchasing. Refunds are unfortunately not available for digital purchases. Thank you! 🎈 YOU MAY: - Use SVGSWIFT images in both digital and printed format. - Use SVGSWIFT images for both personal and commercial projects. Up to 50 units commercially. - Re-size, re-colour, crop, rotate, or add other elements. 🎈 YOU MAY NOT: - Claim SVGSWIFT images as your own, with or without alterations. - Create new clipart sets, digital paper sets, digital scrapbooking kits or similar with SVGSWIFT images, with or without alterations. - Re-sell the original SVGSWIFT images in a set or individually. - Lend, trade, share or otherwise distribute the original SVGSWIFT images as a freebie, download or resource to others, in a set or individually. PLEASE NOTE: – Since this item is digital, no physical product will be sent to you. – Due to monitor differences and your printer settings, the actual colors of your printed product may vary slightly. – Due to the digital nature of this listing, there are “no refunds or exchanges”. REFUNDS & EXCHANGES There are absolutely no refunds or exchanges allowed on digital items. Please be aware of what you are purchasing prior to checkout. ✨ F O L L O W U S ✨ PINTEREST : https://www.pinterest.com/svgswift/ ✨ C O N T A C T U S ✨ EMAIL: contact@svgswift.com Thank you so much for visiting our store! Read the full article

[hockeyandhrsepwr]

Birthday boy

*little Trevor Zegras x best friend (👀) reader insta edit for his birthday**

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liked by jamie.drysdale, _quinnhughes & others

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Yourusername is he monologuing yet?

Masonmctavish23 unfortunately 

Shattdeuces hes recording it because he's too worked up to type it for you rn

yourusername 😂 I've heard it before

_quinnhughes Happy birthday annoying brother #6

Yourusername Quinn I love you for that

lhughes_06 Happy birthday Zeegs, can we circle back to this? Who the hell are #3-5

Yourusername I’m assume Turcs is in there somewhere 

_quinnhughes yep, Alex & Cole & Dylan

lhughes_06 what?

Dylanduke.25 I’m honoured 

User16 Trevors in best friend jail 🤣

User72 wonder what he did

User12 the comment section correction

User22 no one seems to have noticed it😂

Yourusername They saw it, they’re just choosing not to acknowledge it

TrevorZegras

liked by JackHughes, anaheimducks & others

TrevorZegras best birthday present I could’ve asked for #upgrades #shesmygfnow 

view all comments

Yoruusername that has to be the lamest hashtag ever. Are you 12?

Masonmctavish23 mentally yes

Yourusername true

Jamie.drysdale can’t believe it

_alexturcotte FINALLY!!

Jackhughes the gc is going wild rn

Jamie.drysdale so ours!!

Colecaufield he actually did it?

jamie.drysdale 30 minutes ago, I’ll send you the video

Jackhughes me too!

_quinnhughes just add him to the GC 

Yourusername that’s why youre the smart one Quinn

_quinnhughes thanks. Good luck with him 

Yoruusername oh hes a handful 😏

Jamie.drysdale yuck

mattboldy couldn’t have waited 2 fucking weeks Trev?

_alexturcotte oh shit, I won!!

Cam.York damnit!

ColeCaufield I was off by two days😭

TrevorZegras You were betting on us? 😦

Jackhughes duh

Anaheimducks obviously 

Colecaufield dude you’ve been in love with her since high school

Yourusername it gets reevaluated every 4 months for new dates

_johnbeecher we're on the 10th round I think

TrevorZegras yourusername YOURE IN ON IT?

Yourusername to quote one Jack Hughes “duh”

TrevorZegras dont bring him into this!! 

Yourusername You wouldn’t get your head out of your ass! I could’ve at least made some money from it

TrevorZegras you could’ve made a move!!

Yourusername nah why would I do that

jamie.drysdale you could just have this conversation. You’re sitting across from each other

Yourusername shut it Jim

TrevorZegras yeah, zip it

User24 the Ducks admin betting on Trevors love life wasn’t on my bingo card 

Anaheimducks Its the whole team!! 

TrevorZegras Jesus how many people are actually involved?

Yourusername Secretary Alex?

_alexturcotte at this date, 65

TrevorZegras WHAT!!

Yoruusername yep, you’ve just made Lex a very rich man

Tterry19 atta boy!!

Masonmctavish23 be honest, its just so you can meet TSwizzle

TrevorZegras shhhh 

Yourusername 🤨

TrevorZegras I’m joking, I love you very much 

Yourusername 😌

User727 always thought they’d be a good couple

User71 best friends to lovers? Elite trope

User02 FINALLY!!! I’ve been waiting for this!

User542 Bestie we all have!!

User98 65 people betting 😮

User62 I’m just wondering how much Turcotte will actually make

Yourusername it’s at least 4 figures! Everyone had different amounts

Xxx

[nathandepp]

Praise Ammit... for now

18+ no one listens to ts

Pairing: Harrow x fem reader

Contains: Betrayal, maybe angst, smut specifically p in v, oral(M receiving), sub harrow, moonknight stuff

~Praise the Mercenary~

Who is it? Arthur asked whole trying to contain his breathy moans and pants. The two people said their names and they were Harrows closest followers. After they said that Arthur looked at you if he were to say, "Please let me go". You gave him a look back that said, "Not a chance." He began to talk again saying that now wasn't the best time. As he was talking, you saw that he was becoming more calm and you couldn't have that. So you began marking his neck in love bites and hickies. He was desperately trying to hold back moans and whimpers while trying to talk. "Sir is everything okay?" One of the people asked. Just as he was about to speak, you rose from his cock and slammed back down trying your best to stifle your own moans. He panted out incoherent praises and curses as you did this."

𝓝𝓰𝓷𝓱-𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓱! " "𝓕𝓾𝓬𝓴𝓴- 𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮, 𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮-" "Sir? Are you sure you're okay?" They both asked in unison you heard the door handle jiggle like they were trying to walk in. You grabbed Arthur's chin and directed his gaze towards the door. You then whispered to him, " Go ahead baby, answer them. They're starting to get worried." You licked a stripe on his neck and peppered kisses on his jawline. He finally spoke up and said, "y-yeah I'm fine. I just got hurt, t-that's all." "But tell me what you needed?" You peppered kisses all the way up to his ear then whispered, "Good boy Arthur." He shuddered and begged for you to let him cum. " Well Arthur, after we hadn't found Ammit in the tomb, we had some research done as to who could've gotten to her before us." One of the followers said.

He was so busy trying to control his moans and whimpers that he only heard bits and pieces of what they were saying. You rose up from his dick and stopped your assault on his neck and walked behind him. The followers began speaking again saying, " Our research has led us to believe that it was the 𝓶𝓮𝓻𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓪𝓻𝔂 that stole Ammit. However, if she hasn't stolen Ammit's Ushabti, she will know where it is." Arthur's head fell back and his eyes bored into yours. You reached around to his neck and grasped it, guiding his head to the corner of the mirror. You saw his eyes widen in shock and his face start to redden with embarrassment. "Sir? You know what, we'll come back tomorrow." And with that, they left leaving you two alone. In the mirror was something that you thought would make your fun with Arthur even more enjoyable. Something that he u̶s̶e̶d̶ t̶o̶ love more than you. The Ushabti of Ammit. "H-how long as she been here?" Arthur asked with slight shyness in his voice. "You leaned down and said, The whole time." His eyes widened and he was looking directly at the statue.

"Now". You began to make your way down to his restrained cock. " You could tell me the truth, admit your disobedience,and receive a sweet, much needed release." You started sliding the cockring up from the base to the tip of his cock. You could hear the relief in his voice. "Or, you could continue to lie not only to me, but to Ammit herself and commit more sin than you've already have." You then slid the ring back down to the base and he whined out. "Your choice babyboy." You said looking him directly in the mirror. You started kissing his temple then made your way down back to his neck. "𝓜𝓱𝓶𝓶𝓶𝓶~ Okayy... I-I disobeyed your rules." You raised your eyebrow and walked in front of him pulling his neck restraint. "Tell me 𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 how you disobeyed me?" His eyes looked at you in embarrassment. "Come on baby~" "Don't you wanna touch me and finally be able to cum?" He nodded eagerly. God, that's all he wanted. Was to touch you and kiss you then thank you for making this night something he'll remember for a while. " I couldn't contain myself so I... I set myself up on the bed-" "You were facing the door?" You asked. He nodded trying to figure out how that relates to the disobedience. " I masturbated for about 30 minutes, cleaned up, then waited for you." He said. "So you admit you disobeyed me?" You said small hints of seduction in your voice. He nodded. You grasped the cockring and said, " Words baby." " Yes Mistress. I disobeyed your rules." He said with such want to finally be free of the restraint. "You admit that you lied to me about following my rules?" You said. " Yes Mistress. I lied to you and I apologize." Arthur said. " Will you ever do it again?" "No Mistress I won't defy you ever again." You kissed his lips and let go of the neck restraint. You slid the ring off of his aching cock and walked behind him. You leaned down and whispered in his ear, " Cum for me Arthur." He did exactly that. He finally was able to get his sweet release. Long ropes of cum shot out from his dick and coated everything in it's vicinity. As he was cumming and moaning out praises and curses, he said something that literally made you cum right where you stood. " 𝙼𝙾𝙼𝙼𝚈!!" Your heart fluttered, your core ached and your knees buckled until you gave up and fell to your knees. Harrow was so busy in his elongated release that he didn't even know what his words were doing to you.

" 𝕄𝕆𝕄𝕄𝕐𝕐𝕐 𝔽𝕌ℂ𝕂𝕂𝕂~ ℙ𝕃𝔼𝔸-ℙ𝕃𝔼𝔸𝕊𝔼𝔼𝔼~" " You felt like you didn't even need to pleasure yourself, it was like he was doing it for you. With his last plea, you came. All over the floor. You managed to crawl over to where he was sitting and untie his hands. He just starting to come down from his release. His eyes adjusting to the room only to be met by you (yes you got up after taking the rope off and mustered up the strength to walk) in front of him taking off the last restraint. You leaned to his ear and said, " You handled that beautifully Arthur." A slight smirk tugging at your face as you ruffled his hair and walked to run a bath. From the other room you heard, " I'm sorry mistress." You were slightly confused as to why he was apologizing so up walked in the previous room and asked what he meant. What he said next made you chuckle. " I wasn't able to grant you YOᑌᖇ release." "Oh Arthur. You did grant me my release, multiple times." You said while pointing to the puddle in front of you. "The reason you may not see it is because your cum is covering it." You chuckled as you saw him flush out of slight embarrassment. You went to check on the bath and came back to tell him it was ready. "Now it is my time to take such good care of you Arthur."

A/N- GAH DAMN whew I'm sorry for the wait and if this part is not that good or all over the place(no innuendo intended). Hope you enjoy and thanks for the support<3

[whatdoesshedotothem]

1836 Oct[obe]r Sat[urday] 29

8 1/4

12 3/4

V

V

N

V

V

No kiss H[a]d Mr. Husb[an]d at 9 for 1/2 h[ou]r then Mosey ab[ou]t a new cart and tak[in]g 2 of my old carts - told

Mr. H- [Husband] to settle ab[ou]t it - (Mr. Husb[an]d ca[me] ab[ou]t Ja[me]s Nelsons’ hav[in]g h[a]d a 2[n]d summons

for leav[in]g st[one] for water Lane mill chim[ne]y in the r[oa]d – p[ai]d 20/. fine last Sat[urday] - Mr. H- [Husband] want[e]d A- [Ann] to

pay for h[i]m this ti[me]) – F[ahrenheit] 40° at 9 1/2 and the sun shin[in]g - the gr[ou]nd cov[ere]d w[i]th snow

last night on our gett[in]g int[o] bed and cov[ere]d thick[l]y this morn[in]g - 1st snow s[in]ce last wint[e]r –

out a few min[ute]s - no workmen here b[u]t Ingh[a]m who took the slate off the old brewh[ou]se – br[eak]f[a]st at 10 5/.. to 10 40/.. A- [Ann] r[ea]d Fr[en]ch whi[le] I br[eak]f[a]st[e]d – af[te]r br[eak]f[a]st a long whi[le] in the hall

mus[in]g and consid[erin]g ab[ou]t the roof, and how to do it etc and mak[in]g out in my own mind the orig[ina]l plan

of the h[ou]se - then a few min[ute]s in the barn - Booth (David) h[a]d call[e]d en passant - no mason

here exc[ept] Amos at the Lodge prepar[in]g the rabbit[in]g for hang[in]g the out-door - In the barn when

Mr. Wilkins[o]n ca[me] ab[ou]t 11 50/.. as surrogate to prove my a[un]t’s will – expl[aine]d - swore her

personalty und[e]r £20 – p[ai]d Mr. W- [Wilkinson] (who st[ai]d ab[ou]t 20 min[ute]s) £1.15.0 his charge + 4/2

ov[e]r = 2 sov[erei]gns – ver[y] bil[iou]s for the last day or 2, and partic[ularl]y so this morn[in]g – ga[ve] Mr. W- [Wilkinson] a

wrong date of my a[un]t’s death the 3[r]d inst[ea]d of the 3[r]d inst[ant] - and wr[ote] therefo[re] as foll[ow]s to go by Geo[rge] the

gr[oo]m this aft[ernoo]n -‘Shibd[e]n hall. Sat[urday] 29 Oct[obe]r 1836 ‘Sir - I casually ment[ione]d to you this morn[in]g

‘my hav[in]g a bil[iou]s headache, and I trust this will be my excuse for hav[in]g told you that my a[un]t di[e]d

‘on Mon[day] the 3[r]d ins[tea]d of on Mon[day] the 10th inst[ant] - Miss Walker begs her comp[limen]ts w[i]th my own to the Miss

Wilkinsons - I am sir, very truly yours, A. Lister’ ‘The rev[eren]d Rob[er]t Wilkins[o]n Heath’ - then h[a]d

Mr. Jubb 1/2 h[ou]r till 2 - A- [Ann] pret[ty] well, d[i]d n[o]t, as I expect[e]d, get a bad cold cold by her

thorough starv[in]g yest[erday] at Shugden head – w[e]nt to see ab[ou]t the st[one] there – fr[om] 2 to 6 h[a]d one

or oth[e]r - my pay day – p[ai]d Ingh[a]m for Hilltop fence wall[in]g and for work here at the

dry wall arch[in]g up to last night inclus[ive] – Settl[e]d w[i]th John Booth - then h[a]d Jos[e]ph Mann

and bef[ore] I h[a]d done w[i]th h[i]m (ab[ou]t 3 1/2) Mr. Lister the appraiser ca[me] – shew[e]d him my a[un]ts’

clothes – expl[aine]d – s[ai]d I h[a]d sworn her personalty und[e]r £20 s[ai]d that I h[a]d f[ou]nd in h[e]r purse

on[l]y 3 1/2 sov[erei]gns and 6/6. - then ord[ere]d Mr. Lister warm spic[e]d beer, and to be shewn int[o] the h[ou]sekeeper’s

r[oo]m, and w[e]nt b[a]ck to Jos[e]ph Mann - Long talk ab[ou]t the coll[ier]y – ab[ou]t 300 l[oa]ds of coal up at Walker

pit – ord[ere]d 100 l[oa]ds to be sold and the rest kept for the h[ou]se - Mr. Rawson h[a]s rais[e]d his coal to 1/. p[e]r

l[oa]d and gi[ve]s 5/6 p[e]r l[oa]ds score for gett[in]g and h[a]s giv[e]n his men 25/. a piece and hir[e]d for 6 or 12 m[on]ths at

5/6 p[e]r score - the Long goit thro’ the Ing terrib[l]y rotten stuff to dri[ve] thro’ - may be up at

Mytholm bridge in 6 w[ee]ks fr[om] this ti[me] - 180 y[ar]ds fr[om] Listerwick Engine pit to List[er]w[i]ck coal

pit - to bot[tom] the Engine pit, and dri[ve] the 180 y[ar]ds and bot[tom] List[er]w[i]ck pit will ta[ke] till next June –

the engine p[i]t will n[o]t be bottom[e]d till the end of Ap[ril] or int[o] May –

Jos[e]ph Mann h[a]s bor[e]d 6ft. 6in. in Lit[tle] marsh quarry hole that he h[a]s just sunk (an oblong

hole) - and bef[ore] boring h[a]d sunk 12ft. 6in. deep - 12.6. + 6.6 =19ft. deep of throw[in]g out and

boring and in this depth are the foll[owin]g strata –

 pr[ove]d my a[un]ts’ will

 val[ue] of my a[un]ts’ person[alt]y

 Lit[tle] marsh st[one]

  253

1836

Oct[obe]r

+

L

Lit[tle] marsh quarry hole.

                                                                 thickness

                                                                  ft. in.

no. 1 soil                                                     0.6

. 2 worse d[itt]o                                            0.6

. 3 skegs                                                       3.0 + 1 ft. of this ver[y] decent slate.

. 4 good riving st[one] flags etc.                  5.0 +

. 5 mare and ackerspire                                3.0 varies; thick[r]r and thinner; will av[era]ge 4ft.

+ 6 good riv[in]g st[one] strong[e]r than no.

4 b[u]t in water.                                            3.0  strong[e]r i.e. thick[e]r lifts; mo[re] ashler-like, b[u]t like[l]y to rive pret[ty] well

                                                                      call[e]d the wat[e]r lift. a thin shelly part[in]g bet[ween] the 1st f[oo]t and the 2 oth[e]r f[oo]t of this lift.

7 stone qual[it]y unknown                           0.11

8 some kind of soft stuff                              2.6

9 some k[i]nd of stone                                  0.6? bored int[o] it 6in.? JM- [Joseph Mann] s[ai]d a few in[ch]

+ Beg[a]n boring aft[e]r the 1st f[oo]t of no. 6 .:.

bored 2.0

0.11

2.6

0.6?

5. 11

but J. Mann tells me he h[a]s bored 6ft. 6in.

told him to level, and see wh[a]t fall we h[a]d and if the wat[e]r c[oul]d be tak[e]n

off no. 6 in a drift to pay for the exp[ense] – to see to wh[a]t gr[ea]t[e]st depth the wat[e]r c[oul]d be g[o]t off.

                       ft. in.

Stone no. 3        1.0

. 4.                     5.0

. 6                      3.0

good stone =      9.0

Told Jos[e]ph to get a hole or one hole at each extrem[it]y of the st[one] put d[o]wn for A- [Ann] at

Shugden head as soon as he c[oul]d - told h[i]m to th[in]k ab[ou]t an arrangem[en]t ab[ou]t Whiskum r[oa]d

he s[ai]d he w[ou]ld ta[ke] it and keep it in repair (aft[e]r being put in repair) - and keep a regul[a]r acc[oun]t

of the toll tak[e]n for 6 m[on]ths or 12 m[on]ths w[hi]chev[e]r I lik[e]d - I s[ai]d eith[e]r w[oul]d do - we shall see at

the end of one of these terms wh[a]t the r[oa]d costs and wh[a]t it pays and then settle so[me]th[in]g –

aft[e]r Jos[e]ph Mann, h[a]d Rob[er]t Mann and Mark Hepw[or]th and settl[e]d w[i]th b[o]th and then h[a]d Mr. Husb[an]d

till aft[e]r 6 - the magist[ra]tes fined Ja[me]s Nelson 31/. + costs =40/. this morn[in]g (vid[e] line 2 of this

morn[in]g) – ga[ve] Mr. H- [Husband] 2 sov[erei]gns for JN- [James Nelson] b[u]t to tell him that he m[u]st pay for hims[elf] in fut[ure] –

Mosey agreed w[i]th Mr. Husb[an]d this morn[in]g to ma[ke] a capit[a]l new br[oa]d wheel[e]d cart for £25

and to ta[ke] my 2 old carts for £5 .:. I shall as it were get my new cart for £20 – din[ner] at 7 –

coff[ee] upst[ai]rs – h[a]d Geo[rge] up to find fault ab[ou]t his n[o]t com[in]g b[a]ck this ev[enin]g till aft[e]r 7 the note being

giv[e]n to h[i]m at 3 1/2 p.m. – s[ai]d he d[i]d n[o]t get off till 5 - A- [Ann] g[o]t Robertson’s Life of Ch[arle]s V

[cuarto] fr[om] the lib[rar]y tonight - we sat look[in]g int[o] it - or rath[e]r she r[ea]d me 10 or 12 p[ages] of the

Introd[uctio]n – fr[om] 10 1/2 to 11 5/.. wr[ote] all the ab[ov]e of today - Ingham +...... d[i]d n[o]t work

in the aft[ernoo]n - too wintery - fine (overhead) in the morn[in]g till bet[ween] 12 and 1 – aft[er]w[ar]ds snowy

and wintery - deep snow on the gr[ou]nd - no do[in]g anyth[in]g out of doors – F[ahrenheit] 33° now at 11 5/.. p.m.

and fair and starlight – Lett[er] tonight 1 p[age] fr[om] Mr. Lister 11 Stockwell common - in ans[we]r to

my let[ter] on the d[ea]th of my a[un]t – condol[en]ce and thanks for my hav[in]g remitt[e]d the rent to his moth[e]r

at midsumm[e]r

 Whiskum r[oa]d

agreem[en]t w[i]th JM. [Joseph Mann]

 new cart Nelson’s fine

[bilgisticallykosher]

Don't Jump To Conclusions

TS g/t one-shots

I'm in a Sanders Sides g/t server, and sometimes we take scenarios and write on them. I've written a fair amount of stuff on there, myself, and I decided to collect my stuff, and clean it up. This was partially written by @borrowedblue and @andtheyreonfire

Happy birthday, Vel!

Masterpost | AO3

My Discord, not to be confused with the above g/t Sanders Sides one.

Word count: 3,300

Warnings: Spiders! Spider, anyway. Sentient beings sold as pets, attempting restriction of said beings, mentions of bites, implied past abuse/bad treatment.

-----

Virgil was out shopping. Not for groceries or clothing; he was at a pet store, shopping for supplies for his, let's say, pets. Okay, technically they weren't pets. They were research at the lab he worked at, but he still liked them, even when they did try to bite and attack and hiss at him. His descriptions of such had led people to believe that he worked with cats, but he didn't. 

He worked with spiders. 

Well, a lot of bugs, but he liked the spiders the best. His lab observed their behaviors both individually and in groups to catalog a variety of information. As part of their observations, they needed to keep the spiders in their ideal environment, which included as close to the exact blend of earth as they could get. Unfortunately, they'd run out of their supply today. Fortunately, that sort of stuff was widely available. Unfortunately, they used a very specific brand. Fortunately, they found some in a pet store pretty locally. Unfortunately, Virgil was the one who lived nearest to it, so he was stuck going in and getting it on his way home. What a drag, he had to actually interact with people. 

When he got there, he could see why this was the store that had it. It was certainly… well-stocked. Which, really, was just another way to say "huge." It was like the Home Depot of pet stores; no employees in sight, and aisles in need of some serious maps. But whatever. He at least knew which sections to go past. When he finally got to the specialty mix of dirt, near the back of the store, he grabbed it with an 'Ah-hah!' Then, after his elation had faded, he took in his surroundings a bit more. He looked to his left, and noticed the rescue. 

It wasn't odd for a pet store to have a rescue in it. And despite his surly exterior, well, Virgil wasn't immune to cute fluffy animals. Maybe he just so happened to need to walk back to the registers while passing it by. And maybe while he was walking that way, he'd take a little look. You know. While he was there. 

So, path decided, nodding to himself, he strolled over, bag of soil in hand, and prepared to look at the puppies and kittens. Then he stopped and blinked. There were certainly puppies and kittens, and even a bird there, but there were also some different manner of pets. 

He saw fairies, tiny mers, and all manner of little magical creatures. He walked through the display of cages and terrariums, when one in particular caught his eye. He stared at the sign plastered on the seemingly empty glass case.

CAUTION: I BITE! 

"What the-" he squinted, leaning closer to see if there was anything actually in there. He thought he saw something moving underneath the front of the fake log, and then all of a sudden-

-there it was right in front of him. 

He flinched and took a half step back on instinct, despite the fact that it's in a freaking terrarium, genius, and he took in the creature. It was partly human, but had multiple eyes, and its back half was an abdomen, black with dark blue bands, and had multiple legs. 

A drider. 

It was reared up on its back legs, and it was bearing its (he squinted closer to be certain, and sure enough its human half had freaking fangs), and was generally acting very aggressive.

He thought it- they were trying to puff themself up, emphasizing their eight (eight!!!) limbs, six on the bottom, plus their arms. Their multiple eyes were narrowed, directly at him. They were snarling. 

And Virgil couldn't possibly help but to walk towards the terrarium, warning sign be damned. He sees the spider-person pause, some of the aggression draining out, before they rear back again, seemingly trying to be more intimidating than before. Virgil smirked, fascinated, and sank down into a crouch. He really took in the shape and look of their eyes, and his own eyes widened in response. 

Jumping spider, he realizes, and then, Well, duh, they jumped at you, moron, of course they're a jumpy. He tilted his head a few times, trying to really see the details of the drider, while he had the chance. 

"Woah," Virgil whispered. "You're so cool looking." He watched as they frowned and clicked their mouthparts (didn't look completely like typical chelicara) idly, running their pedipalps over them. They seemed to hesitate, lowering down, and stared at him in a more placated manner. 

Honestly, they were pretty cute. "How far can you jump?" Virgil asked, taking in the size of the enclosure. The creature was watching his gaze like, well, someone who had plenty of eyes, then finally, they spoke up. 

"Far beneath my limit in this facsimile of a proper environment," they crossed a pair of human arms and one set of spider legs. They seemed distrustful, gaze still not fully on him. As though they were apprehensive about his reaction, like it was going to be negative? 

"I'll bet," Virgil responded instead, and he nodded a little as his smile fell into a grimace. "This thing has gotta really suck, huh?" He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, eyes still flitting over the spider creature's form every so often. They raised an eyebrow. 

"Indeed." Yeah, there was no way they were used to having a normal conversation. They seemed less wary now, but they didn't seem to be holding back their speech at all. Virgil really admired that. He liked that attitude, and that he was the one getting it out of them, and, well, he liked a lot about them. He had...a dangerous thought. 

"What if," Virgil bit his lip, "what if you got out?" The spider huffed, rolling their (well, some of their) eyes. 

"Then I would be able to jump further," they replied, voice clearly dry despite their size difference. 

"No, no," his smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. "I mean. What if you," Virgil hesitated meaningfully, being sure to emphasize the words. "Got, out." The creature's limbs uncrossed. Virgil saw as comprehension dawned. 

"I am," their words were chosen carefully, he noticed. They had been throughout this entire interaction. "Not allowed to leave my enclosure." Their eyes raked over the human's form. 

"What if I got you out?" The spider person chittered, nervousness written on their face. 

"Theft is not an encouraged activity," they eventually settled on. Virgil snorted and muttered 'be gay, do crime' under his breath. "No, I meant like. Maybe, I could, sort of." He paused, breathed in, breathed out, and tried to look as serious as possible. "Take you home? With an adoption fee and everything?"

"I," the drider swallowed visibly, and of course they didn't trust him, they just met him and he doesn't even know their name, or anything, and he didn't introduce himself- "I am unable to survive in the wild on my own," they finished succinctly. 

Virgil hadn't meant that. They might be a drider, but they were clearly still human, especially after the conversation they'd been having, so, was it wrong that he wanted to take them home? He knew that everyone here was raised to live in a home, with a human taking care of them, just like the pets they adopted out beside them. So, maybe they wouldn't mind if he took them home? But, he guessed that their non-answer gave him his answer, then. That kinda sucked. 

"My name's Virgil," he blurted out before he forgot again. "He/him." They stared at each other for a moment. "Uh, what's your name?" He saw them startle, "I mean, y'know, only if you don't mind."

"My name is Logan." They said, voice even, still, but maybe a little less cautious, he thinks? "I… am also male?" And Virgil couldn't help but smirk again at his confused tone. It was sort of adorably endearing. His eyes drifted towards the sign again. 

"So," he smirked a little more. "You actually ever bite anyone before?" Logan rolled (all of) his eyes. 

"Of course," he pointed to the sign. "Otherwise, it would not be stated on my tank." He sounded almost a little proud. He went on, clarifying despite not being asked to. Virgil was not complaining. "Two separate humans, not to mention the time a child opened my tank after wandering away from his parents." His pedipalps whisked over his face, "I jumped just under my potential that day, unfortunately." He didn't sound sorry at all. Virgil's mouth twitched dangerously. "I landed right on his head."

Virgil burst out laughing. Several people in the store turned around to see what the commotion was about. A volunteer in particular hesitated, before starting to come over to the pair. Logan looked smug, Virgil wiped a tear from his eye. 

"Hello, sir, may I help you with anything?" The voice came suddenly from over his shoulder. He just barely suppressed a flinch. 

"Ah!" Couldn't suppress the scream, though.

"You two seem to be getting along!" The volunteer said. "Do you have any questions about him?" The tone of the question was clearly an underlying 'Would you please take him?'

Virgil gave a look towards Logan's direction. He looked back at Virgil. Maybe, Virgil thought, not as hesitant as before.

"Well," Virgil pulled his gaze away, "maybe just a few."

~~~~~

Logan watched the human- Virgil- as the volunteer led him away, and he found himself repressing a pout. He'd been… nice. Pleasant. Tolerable. 

Okay, so Logan had enjoyed his company, and his conversation. It had been quite some time since that had happened with a human. In fact, it had been quite some time since any conversation at all had happened with a human. They never spoke to him directly. Every human he'd ever known had spoken over him, both literally and figuratively. Especially here, where they spoke instead to the volunteers and his general caretakers. 

He exhaled. Perhaps his standards for 'good conversation' had just slipped considerably. As well as his standards for 'acceptable human.' After all, there he was, discussing taking Logan into his home, with someone all-too-anxious to never see him again. Nice or not, he had to be cautious. He seemed like he cared about his opinion, but that was the thing about humans; they were good at seeming. 

He gave up on trying to listen into their conversation. They were far away, and it only seemed to pertain to what supplies he would need if he took him. At the very least, the volunteer was doing their job of explaining his needs. He skittered into the fake log that was in his environment as he considered his future. 

This was not the first time he'd met someone excited to see him, eager to adopt him. It had happened, once before. He'd been much younger then, much more innocent, much happier, much more eager to go into a home with a human family. 

That eagerness and happiness had lasted about a week. 

And, well, that's why he was with a rescue now. 

He considered Virgil. He spoke to him, yes, was interested, but he was still larger; Logan surmised he could easily fit in his hands, probably even only one. He had more legs, and more eyes, and could jump, and had venomous fangs (barely, to a human), but he was still the one with the disadvantage. A severe one. He shuddered from memories he'd considered long in the past. Apparently, they were still with him in the present. 

Likely, he would not get an opinion on who he went home with, anyway. It was why he made it a point to be so aggressive with everyone who came over to him. But Virgil… Well, he supposed he would see, and soon. The two humans were walking towards his enclosure again, this time Virgil had a large bag of items relevant to Logan’s care. 

He poked his head back out, eyes roving over his figure. Virgil smiled at him, one corner of his mouth tugged further up than the other. He turned to the volunteer. 

"Could you, I mean, if there's maybe…" he made a gesture with his empty hand, seemingly unable to finish his thought. "I kinda wanna," he lost his momentum again. He inhaled and exhaled a few times. "Could I just have a minute with him," he rushed out. The volunteer made some sort of face, but nodded, and left. Virgil took a step forward, and Logan met him (as much as he could from within his glass case) halfway, stepping out from his log. He was certainly more willing to be out in the open with only Virgil there. He returned a tiny, if uneasy smile of his own. 

Virgil crouched down again. "Have you really been here for most of your life? Around humans?" Logan blinked. That took some time. 

"Yes," he admitted. "I was abducted too young to learn any survival instincts." He couldn't say why he so willingly told him his past, but Virgil wanted to know, and Logan knew what that thirst for knowledge was like. "How did you know?" He wasn't accusatory, merely curious, undoubtedly as Virgil had been.��

"Volunteer told me," Virgil made a slight face, and Logan wondered what else he'd been told about his past. He was about to ask, but Virgil continued. "Said you'd been waiting here for way too long." There was a look on his face that Logan had only seen on childrens' face moments before a tantrum. 

He believed that Virgil was sad, but he couldn't figure out why. "That you'd been rescued from a bad situation." Ah. "Uh, listen." Virgil brought a hand up, and Logan flinched, but it was only to awkwardly scratch at his cheek. 

He looked at Logan intensely. "I know we've only known each other for a bit, and I totally understand if your answer's no, but." He looked pained. "Um." Virgil coughed into his hand, likely a gesture to fill the silence rather than a violent expulsion of the contents in his throat. "Would you? Like me? To uh? Take you home? Er- fuck." Virgil groaned, clearly frustrated by his own ineloquence. "Would you like to live with me? I could offer you a bigger space than what you've got here, take care of you- that water looks too old to be healthy- and you can decline if you want. I just- yeah," he finished, slumping over with hunched shoulders from the effort. 

Logan considered it. He considered it for a while. He considered the short time that he'd spent with the human, and made his decision. At the very least, Virgil wouldn’t be that cruel compared to his...other options. Logan nodded. The smallest of smiles flitted up onto his mouth, and that was apparently what Virgil was waiting for. He offered him a 'be right back', and went to grab an employee. Logan took in his cage one last time, hope was rapidly raising in him.

Meanwhile, Virgil was paying for his purchases as well as Logan's adoption fee. When he came back, it was with the volunteer, who was carrying a smaller containment box meant for transportation, and something else in the other hand. 

Logan's habitat was opened, and suddenly, the volunteer's hand plunged into his tank, startling Logan out of his thoughts and immediately put him on the opposition, fangs bared and ready. It didn't matter, though. The volunteer was wearing thick rubber gloves, preventing any form of retaliation on the part of the drider, and he was grabbed roughly around the middle. He hated being held, nobody knew how to properly hold him; he wasn't a human infant, why did they insist on holding him that way? Unable to resist, Logan squirmed in the grip of the human, receiving a light squeeze and a pained look from Virgil for his efforts. 

“Now, just to get him all ready for you,” the volunteer chirped, bringing a bundle of rope into view. Logan’s eyes widened, and he started struggling anew.

As if he hadn’t moved a muscle, Logan felt his arms being pinned and bound behind his back, knotted tightly. Logan couldn't move his upper arms. The volunteer had just grabbed a few of his legs between two fingers, Logan was kicking and still trying to bite, when-

“The hell are you doing?” Virgil asked in a tone that was, quite frankly, utterly terrifying. It made Logan shudder, before almost instinctively he stopped his efforts to escape. Was this Virgil's true nature, then? 

"Oh, this is just standard procedure for all dangerous creatures," the volunteer responded. And Logan's head snapped up to the two. His internal organs seemed to quiver, as much as he knew that wasn't possible. Virgil had been upset at the volunteer? "Just for everybody's safety." 

"Well then," his unending glare at purely the volunteer seemed to confirm who his ire was directed at. "I guess you'll have to untie him, because I don't think he's a danger to me at all." The volunteer stared back, and understandably backed down. 

"Well, you're his new owner, so!" And Logan remained untied, minus his upper arms, and placed in the transportation  carrier. Virgil paid the adoption fee, and took Logan by the handle, and he felt a thrill of freedom, combined with an atypical bout of anxiety. 

"Hey," Virgil started, as they were walking out of the store. "There's some more stuff on the shelves that I could get you,"  Virgil rolled his shoulder. "It's not, like, required equipment or anything, but some of it looked like it could be kind of cool?" Logan squinted. 

"Why would cold items be preferable to own?" Virgil smirked and then bit his lip. 

"No, I mean, like." He mulled it over, tilting his head. "Nea- no." He exhaled some air out his nose. "Fun? Awesome?" Ah. 

"I suppose, if you wanted to look, I would not be opposed." Virgil smiled, and for the next half hour, Logan was treated to a trip around some of the aisles. Virgil held up his cage, letting him look at some of the items made for a drider's physical and mental engagement. He let Logan decide entirely what he did and did not want to buy, even though he was sure it was difficult for him to keep lifting the transport box, in addition to being a tedious way to shop. His favorites were a little him-sized version of a 'Rubick's Cube,' as well as a better version of the log cave that he'd grown accustomed to in the store. 

He paid when he got up front, and they made their way to his car, placing his other purchases in the back. He put Logan on the seat next to him, 'passenger seat,' Logan vaguely recalled. He was about to buckle him in. 

"Alright, sit tight," Logan was about to ask what that meant when Virgil gasped. "Holy shit, I forgot about the rope." He dropped to the ground, crouched again, and opened the top of his carrier. He carefully took his fingers and untied the ropes, immediately freeing his arms. Logan rubbed around his wrists on instinct, "I'm sorry! Does it hurt? Are you okay?" Logan looked up at Virgil's earnest, open face, full of concern for Logan, and thought of how he'd treated him this entire time, how hopeful and excited he'd been. 

"Yes," Logan smiled. "I think I will be."

-----

In my mind he kinda looks like this, and check out that cool size comparison chart at the bottom!

My favorite line from the original: I guess there's like normal things there like cats and dogs and birds and like maybe magical-y things like, winged cats and winged dogs and winged birds.

Taglist

@callboxkat @katelynn-a-fan @dwbh888 @royal-stormcloud @thefivecalls @awkwardjester @ollyollyoxinfree @intruxiety @brain-deadx0 @the-grounded-raven @just-your-typical-trans-guy @grouptalekindnesssoul @the-hoely-bleach @anvil527up @fanficloverinthesun @demoniccheese83  @thatgaydemigodnerd @aceawkwardunicorn @lookingforaplacetosleep @mirinda03 @robinwritesshitposts @averykedavra @potatsanderssides @hekking-happy-nonsense @enby-ralsei @star-crossed-shipper  @a-fandom-trashdump @thefluffyotter33 @somehow-i-got-an-account @cottonwoolsocks @idontcareaboutcanon   @starlight-era @kieraelieson  @snowdice @callboxkat @10moonymhrivertam @just-some-gt-trash @evoodo123 @idont-freaking-know

[phoebe-delia]

The Way I Loved You

This was part of the Drarry as TS songs series on AO3. It's rated T, break-up/make-up, past secret relationship, angst with a happy ending, 2.8k. Here's an excerpt!

“Attention ministry employees: remain calm and find a designated waiting area. The building is on lockdown. I repeat: the building is on lockdown.”

Harry’s heart jumped in his throat. He stuffed his wand back into his pocket and jumped out of his chair, dashing to open the door, but he was immediately pushed back into his office.

“Unhand me, you brute!” Draco struggled against a woman wearing a hazmat suit. Harry’s eyes widened as Draco was abruptly shoved through the door.

“Mr. Malfoy, we are required to clear the hallways immediately, and this is the closest office. I apologize for the inconvenience, but we are on lockdown until further notice.”

“He can stay here. What happened?” Harry said, ignoring Draco’s huff in protest.

“The environmental hazard wards are picking up an unusual pattern of airborne particles,” she explained. “We’re working to determine the substance before allowing people out of the building.”

Harry nodded. “Alright, thank you, I’ll report to Kingsley for further instruction.” He started toward the door, but she stepped in front of him.

“I’m sorry, Auror Potter, but right now only personnel from the Department of Intoxicating Substances are currently allowed in the hallways. We are specially trained for this work, and all other employees must stay in the nearest room for the time being.”

“But there could be foul play! As an auror, it’s my job to investigate!”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m under strict orders to not allow any other Ministry employees into the hallways. You’ll have to wait here until we receive more instructions.”

Draco sputtered. “I can’t stay here with him!”

She sighed. “I’m sorry, gentlemen, I have to go.”

Draco pushed past Harry. “I don’t care! I’m leaving.”

Suddenly, she drew her wand. “Mr. Malfoy, I’ve been ordered to Stun anyone who breaches protocol. Please step back into the office.”

Draco’s eyes widened before narrowing to a deathly glare, but he stepped back grumbling.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” she said. “We will update you as soon as possible.”

With that, she closed the door, which automatically locked.

Read the rest on AO3!

[twokinkybeans]

MAKE IT LAST - STARKER MOB BOSS/COFFEE SHOP AU

HERE IT FINALLY IS! So, a few months back we did a prompt line fic thing. This means this one shot is wayyyy late, but it also got wayyyyyyyyyyyy out of hand and is now nearly 11k words long omg.

The prompt line @jeranasblog gave me was: "He had spilled his coffee on the suit of the most dangerous man in New York City." I hope you enjoy! <3 -Lien

Warnings: Adult!Peter Parker, Mob boss!Tony, Barista!Peter, No powers!AU, Peter is a little dense but we still love him, angst, fluff and smut, near the end there are some gruesome threats, abduction, guns, May is mentioned, Obadiah Stane is the bad guy, Bucky and Steve are there, Coffee Shop boss is an OC and has a gambling addiction. Smut tags: NFF, teasing, sexting, masturbation, orgasm delay/denial, hand job with much lube lol, hand & finger kink, praise kink, daddy kink, possessive kink, dry humping, finger sucking, anal fingering

Read “Make It Last” on AO3! Taglist: @the-secret-avenger ​@ironspiidey

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Two minutes, Peter- hurry up!” Mister McDougall’s high pitched command reverbs through the coffee shop. In two minutes, it’ll be two PM on the Tuesday afternoon. Peter’s been working here for three years now. Just yet, he tried to quit, but that wasn’t taken kindly. He can still feel the eerie presence of the tip of a knife on his cheekbone. How Peter got himself stuck in this job is a long story. A very long one. You see, the owner of the coffee shop, Mister McDougall, made a deal with New York’s biggest mafia boss to be able to keep the shop and… He wasn’t able to pay back on time. Lucky for Mister McDougall, Peter was working when the Big Boss came to collect. At two PM. On a Tuesday afternoon. A few months ago...

The bell of the front door rang and Peter walked in from the back, smiling kindly. He greeted the rich looking man. “Good afternoon, Sir,” he said in his regular chipper voice. The man cocked an eyebrow over his sunglasses and pursed his lips. His neatly trimmed beard moved along with his expression and he sniffed once. “One black coffee to go,” the man demanded. Peter’s mood didn’t falter. He was used to stern customers, New York generally wasn’t a kind city. Peter smiled and nodded, immediately getting to work. It wasn’t a difficult one to make, after all. He’d ring this guy up in less than a minute. “You know what,” the man suddenly said. “Make that a caramel Frappuccino. Extra whipped cream. Drink here. Make it last.” Make it last? Peter wondered what the man meant with that. It was only then that Peter realized that the man was studying his every movement a little more closely than a regular customer would. It didn’t necessarily make Peter uncomfortable, though. The man was at least twice his age, but it was undeniable that he was the hottest man Peter had ever laid eyes on. Even though his eyes were covered by an expensive pair of sunglasses. Peter quickly moved to pour the milk, but the man’s deep voice filled the empty space again. “Make. It. Last.” Peter blinks, dumbfounded. “You… You want me to work slower?” The man then raised his hand to pull down his glasses slightly, so he could look Peter in the eye properly. Infinite whisky browns stared straight into Peter’s soul. “Yes.” “A-alright,” Peter stuttered and went back to work, tearing his gaze away from the man. If Mister McDougall were here, he’d kill him for working at this pace. But ah well, the customer is always right. The customer is king. And the man he was making the coffee for sure looked like he was in charge. Maybe he would leave a nice tip. “Where’s your boss?” There was a hint of annoyance hidden in the man’s voice. “Mister McDougall?” Peter replied as he turned to grab the caramel. “He’s at a convention on the other side of the country. Was pretty vague about it, to be honest. Something to do with beans.” “Beans,” the man scoffed. “Sure.” He rolled his shoulders and walked to the other side of the counter where Peter would ring him up. His eyes never left the young man. “And he left you in charge of the store on the day he knew I’d show up?” Peter glanced up from his work questioningly, but then shrugged. “Apparently.” “Do you know about our deal?” “Oh!” Peter exclaimed softly as he placed the large cup on the counter. “He mentioned he was working on a business proposal with someone, but I didn’t pry, cause this isn’t my store. I’m sorry, Sir, did he have an appointment with you?” The man gritted his teeth and pushed out his reply. “Yes.” “I could call him now? If you want?” A slight smirk crept up on the man’s face. “Please do.” Peter didn’t hesitate to grab his phone from his back pocket. There usually weren’t any other customers at this hour of the day anyways. He looked up the number of his boss and hit call. “Hey Pete-“ “Hi, Mister McDougall, there’s someone here to see you, but you must’ve forgotten your appointment.” The other end of the line stayed quiet and Peter pulled a face at the customer. “Sir?” More silence. “Do you want me to reschedule it for you?” “Peter,” the customer interrupted them. It didn’t matter how long Peter wore that name tag, he never got used to strangers saying it out of the blue. “Hand me the phone and go to the back. Mister McDougall and I can discuss our arrangement here and now, but I do require some privacy.” Peter blinked once. Twice. And then he slowly moved to give his phone to the man in the suit. “Don’t let your coffee go cold,” Peter said with a curt nod before rushing off to the back. He shuffled to the dishwasher and turned it on to give them some more privacy, the loud rumble of the water inside the machine drowning out any other sound in the back. Not even five minutes later, the man walked into the back with Peter’s phone in hand, a dark smirk plastered on his face. “Your phone,” he said politely, placing the piece of technology in Peter’s palm. Peter smiled warmly. “Thank you, Sir.” He walked passed the man back to the front. The man followed. “No, Peter, thank you,” he chuckled. He grabbed his coffee from the counter and sat down at one of the tables. “Did the arrangement work out okay?” Peter asked innocently. If this man was working together with his boss, it was probably smart to stay kind. Though, that wasn’t all that hard, somehow. There was something about him that lured Peter in- made him feel warm and at home. The man grinned even wider while placing his sunglasses on the table. “Perfect.” His smile turned sour after he took a large sip from his coffee. “Is- is something wrong?” “Eh, no. I’m not one for overly sweet coffees.” Peter swallowed a sassy reply. If he didn’t like Frappuccinos, why would he order one? “Would you like me to make you another one?” “Still got that black coffee there?” “Yes, Sir.” “Very good.” The man left, just as hoped, a big tip and walked out the door with a promise. “See you next week.” Somehow, that made Peter’s stomach tingle. He did want to see the man again. There was something mysterious about him. Alluring. Their conversations were interesting and surprisingly eloquent. The man was very smart and Peter found himself loosening up more as the chat went on. The man let him. It was nice. That night, when Peter wanted to message a friend, he wondered when he added “TS” in his contact list. He didn’t recognize the number, but he couldn’t be bothered to look it up either. From then on, every Tuesday at two PM on the dot, the man walked in. Mister McDougall was always nervous about his arrival and usually fled to the back, leaving Peter to take care of the customer. But more often than not, he’d leave Peter in charge of the store entirely, leaving for appointments or errands whenever the man was bound to come in. Peter learned the man’s name is Tony and their conversations were always pleasant. Interesting. They talked about Peter’s life, mostly. Tony always managed to make everything about the college student, earning his cash as a barista. Peter didn’t mind, but he couldn’t help that he was curious. Tony offhandedly said he worked in real estate, when Peter asked. That and ‘some other things.’ He learned Tony was a tinkerer and a scientist in his free time. That he enjoys fixing up old cars, modern art and what he called ‘a good fuck.’ The comment had Peter blush a bright red. A blush Tony would always compliment whenever it crept up to his ears. Something about Tony drew Peter in. Maybe it was their casual conversation. Maybe it was his compliments. Maybe even his smile? Though, Peter’s smile always faltered as soon as other customers came in, since Tony would usually leave the store when they did. One day, the customers appeared to be his employees. And they all stayed. Two men, both tall and wide. One was blond, clean shaven and the other had slightly longer brown hair and a trimmed beard. “So, this is your Tuesday retreat, boss?” the blond quipped before ordering an americano. “Shouldn’t you be working?” Tony sassily replied, leaning back in his chair. “Coffee break,” the brown haired man said simply. Tony scoffed and waved it off. The three men were awfully picky about what they said and how they said it, Peter could tell, but that might just be private business stuff, so he didn’t pry. After they finished their drinks and walked out the door, Peter blushed again when the brown-haired man spoke. “That sure was a good coffee. I’d come here every Tuesday too, if I knew I’d be served by such a good lookin’ young man.” The compliment was paired with a wink. The door closed and Peter laughed softly to himself when Tony gave the brown-haired man a gentle slap at the back of his head to scold him. … One Tuesday, Peter called in sick. He lived to regret that. Mister McDougall was furious, but Peter couldn’t help that he was down with the flu and he didn’t want to make other customers sick. Especially not the man he’d grown to like so much. He got a text, later. TS: Are you okay? Peter: Who is this? TS: Tony. TS: Black coffee Tony. Peter: Oh! Peter: Sorry, I wasn’t at the shop today. Caught the flu, I think. Hope not worse. Glued to bed rn. TS: Got it bad? Peter: Can barely stand, tbh. Coughing a lot and it sounds weird. Don’t wanna make anyone sick. TS: That’s sweet. Peter: Just lookin out for the little guy. TS: I’m not little. Peter: Didn’t meant it like that, omgg, im sorry! TS: I’m messing with you. Peter: Ohh 🙈 It was quiet for a little bit, and Peter nearly fell asleep again if it weren’t for his screen lighting up. TS: Can I get you anything? Peter: I’ll be okay, I promise. I’ll be fine. I mean it. TS: Peter. Tony wasn’t even in the same room as Peter, yet he knew exactly how Tony would’ve said his name if he were. Peter: I’m a college student. Meds are out of the picture. Don’t have much cash. TS: I do. And after not even half an hour, there was a doctor on Peter’s doorstep to check on him. Pneumonia in its early stages. A few days of antibiotics and he should be good as new. He wasn’t sure how Tony knew his address, but figured he got it from Mister McDougall. True to the doctor’s words, Peter was up and running again in a few days and on Tuesday, two PM on the dot, Tony walked into the shop with a wide grin and spread arms. “Good afternoon to my favorite barista,” he quipped. Peter grinned and cocked his head. “Good afternoon to my favorite customer.” “Oh,” Tony gasped, placing his palm on his chest. “You flatter me.” “Do I? With the tips you leave, everyone must like to see you.” “Most rather see me go, trust me.” Tony loudly cleared his throat and evaded Peter’s gaze to collect himself, before he casually leaned over the counter. “Black.” His coffee order is followed by his usual command. “Make it last.” “All I do is press a button, Sir, it’s pretty hard to make a black coffee last.” Peter laughed quietly as he started rubbing a cloth over the counter to clean it while the coffee set. “Then make yourself what you like.” Peter stared at Tony for a second before turning to grab another, taller cup. “Would you laugh if I said it’s a caramel Frappuccino.” He licked his lips. “With extra whipped cream?” “No,” Tony replied immediately. His voice was lower. Darker. Hotter. “It fits you.” “Does it?” Peter chuckled as he handed Tony the black coffee. “Overly sweet,” Tony said with a nod, toasting and raising the cup to his lips. He glanced at Peter and then repeated himself. “It fits you.” Peter slowly moved around the bar, preparing his own Frappuccino. “Thought you didn’t like caramel Frappuccinos?” “I like you.” Peter didn’t halt his movements as he worked himself around the coffee machines, though, his body went at a whole different speed than his brain. Did Tony actually just say that? “I think I like you too.” The reply had left Peter’s lips before he could even process the thought. “You think?” This time, Peter stopped. “I’ve never done anything like this before.” It was barely a whisper. His hand was stuck on the lever and he bit his lip. “Wha- dating?” Peter opted to ignore the implication of what Tony just said and instead, replied honestly. “Flirting.” “Oh, pretty boy, you’ve got a lot to learn. And experience.” Goosebumps spread over Peter’s body at Tony’s words and he closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was because he felt embarrassed or… Something else. This was the first time Tony called him anything like this and it felt like they both stepped over some sort of threshold they had both been ghosting by for a while now. Tony brought him back to the present with his trademarked sniff. “I have no need to rush things. If you’re interested, we’ll take it slow.” Peter finally turned his head to look at Tony with big eyes. Tony just smirked and quipped with a wink. “We’ll make it last.” … Peter: You up? It was two AM. Two Tuesdays later. Tony had become a lot more flirty and a lot more forthcoming with his sweet words and suggestive praise after they addressed their interest in each other. Most of it was via text, but whenever he was at the store, Peter could see Tony’s dilated pupils, could feel the man’s hot breath as Peter explained how one of the machines worked with Tony right behind him. He admired Tony for holding back too. He knew Peter wanted to take things slow, heck, he even suggested it. And he never snapped. Never broke. Never did anything out of line. Sure, his words were suggestive, but he never acted upon any primal needs. He was a gentleman. And it made Peter respect him even more. It also made him want Tony even more. Peter bathed himself in the compliments Tony peppered him with and Peter realized the man knew everything he said and did made Peter… Needy. Peter was fairly sure Tony was already asleep, but after all the sweet and… slightly filthy things the man had been saying to him that day, he couldn’t help himself, he had to jerk off. And he needed Tony to help him with that. TS: Been working. You’re up late. Don’t you have uni tomorrow? Peter sighed gratefully as he typed one handed, the other already creeping down to cup his half-hard shaft through his sweatpants. Peter: I do. TS: Hm. TS: Then why would you message me so late, huh? Peter wanted to scoff. Of course, Tony knew. The man just wanted Peter to say it. And… Peter kind of liked it. No matter how embarrassing. He typed and erased. And typed and erased. Typed and erased. He really wanted to send Tony what he wanted, but he felt like too much of a chicken to actually say it. He needed Tony’s sweet words. His… His filth. Peter: I’m,, eh… TS: Hm? Peter: Talk to me like you do in the shop? Please? TS: How I talk to you in the shop is a lot tamer than what I think you need right now. Peter hid his face in his pillow for a second, before taking a deep breath and finding the courage to reply. Peter: What do I need then? TS: You need me. Without a filter. But before I tell you anything… Where are you right now? What are you wearing? Talk to me, first. Peter: Alone. Bedroom. Bed. Sweat pants. T-shirt. TS: Turn off autocorrect, baby, how am I supposed to know you’re losing yourself if I see full words? Peter: happyy now? TS: Yes. One-handed, huh? Already touching yourself? Peter: mhm, thruogh fabric. TS: Alright, first things first, pretty thing, take off all your clothes. TS: Make it last. Peter complied immediately and he both loved and hated the slow movements he used to slide off his shirt. When his sweatpants were down on his knees, his screen lit up. TS: Are you making it last? Peter: yes TS: Good boy. Peter didn’t expect to moan so loud, but he did. The praise blasted through him and went straight to the cock that now rested against his abdomen. Stiff. Twitching. Leaking. Peter: say thatagain TS: Earn it. Peter: how TS: By being good for me, my sweet. Are you naked? Peter: almost TS: Let me know when you’re done. Peter was almost afraid that when he finally finished undressing after another minute, it was still too fast for Tony. He decided to make the jump, though. Peter: done TS: Lovely. Hard, baby boy? Peter let out a soft growl and was already struggling to type. Peter: ys, for you TS: Touch yourself for me. Go on, hump the hand you make my coffee with, Peter. It felt perfect – absolutely perfect – to wrap his fingers around his cock, now that he was doing it on demand. He couldn’t even hold back if he tried. His thrusts were relentless, straight away. Peter: Yyes yes TS: Oh, I wish I could see how pretty you look right now. How you roll your hips and fuck your fist. TS: Want to see the sweat drip from your temples, want to hear your soft gasps and moans. TS: Want to hear my name fall from your lips. Say my name, Peter. Say it. “Tony- O-oh-“ Peter gasped and he barely managed to keep his eyes open to watch the next few messages come in. TS: Don’t come. Not yet. TS: Slow down. Peter: nn tony please TS: Make. TS: It. TS: Last. Peter felt the tears stream down his cheeks. He felt so good. But he couldn’t come. Not with Tony right here with him telling him not to. Peter: yes sir TS: Good boy. Peter: feelsso good when u callme that TS: Mm. It does, doesn’t it? You know what makes me feel good? Peter: ?/ TS: When you call me Sir. A dreamy smile spread across Peter’s face as he lazily stroked his cock. His hips kept rolling, arching his back and lifting off the mattress with each thrust. His intellect had melted away. All he wanted was to feel good for Tony. TS: You know what else would make me feel really good? Peter: nno? Sir TS: If my good boy called me Daddy. Peter had to stop his hand or he would’ve cum right then and there. And he couldn’t. He shouldn’t. He simply had to make it last. Instead, he moaned obscenely. Peter: ggod, nearlu came TS: Did you now? Peter: yes daddy Peter: held back TS: Oh, you’re so sweet for me. Wish I could taste that awful Frappuccino on your lips. Suckle on your tongue as I squeeze your cock, run my thumb over the head. TS: You have no idea how much I want to make you come for me. Peter: wanna cum for u Peter: faster?????????????/ TS: Speed up, baby. Show Daddy how desperate you are for him. Such a good boy for asking permission. The fact that Tony’s messages were still put together as opposed to Peter’s near button-mashes had another rush of arousal flow through Peter. Everything about what was happening was so hot. He’d never done anything like this before. He never even had sex in his life. And now the hottest man in New York was sexting him. God, he wished he could see Tony right now. Was he naked too? Was he stroking himself? Maybe he was fingering himself. Or fucking himself on a dildo so he still had two hands to type his coherent sentences with. Shit, that’d be so hot. Though, the image of Tony at his desk, working while casually messaging Peter all these things as if it’s just a regular chat about their day was even hotter. Tony, in his tailored suit, barely bothered by Peter’s desperation. Fuck. Peter: Yes yys ddaddy thanku TS: Mhm. It didn’t take long for Peter to get near the edge again. He was barely able to contain himself, phone shaking in his hand with every jerk of his other fist. Peter: close TS: Are you now? Peter: ya TS: Do you want to come? Peter: eys yes so badsoo bad TS: What do good boys say when they want to come? Peter squeezed his eyes shut, gasping and writhing on his sheets. His toes curled as he whined and begged while typing. “P-please-“ he muttered. “Please, please, please-“ Peter: pleease TS: Please, what? That’s it, Peter couldn’t type anymore. Didn’t want to type anymore. Instead, he hit the voice record button. “D-daddy, wanna cum, I wanna cum so bad, please, may I?” His lines were paired with moans and sobs. Desperation dripped from every word. Every thrust of his hips, every squeeze of his fingers, had him see stars. He had to come, he simply had to. But he couldn’t. Not yet. Lucky for Peter, it didn’t take long for Tony to reply with a voice message of his own. His deep, dark voice, coated with lust, like fresh honey, echoed through Peter’s simple bedroom. “Come, Peter. Come for Daddy.” … As time went on, Peter realized that Mister McDougall didn’t like to have Peter around anymore. Every chore he had to do, every command he had to follow, everything McDougall asked of him; he was never good enough. Peter felt like a nuisance. And he wanted out. He felt a weight fall off his shoulders when an on campus lab learned of Peter’s skills and offered him a job. So now, a few weeks after Peter and Tony started sexting, Peter told Mister McDougall he wanted to quit. “You can’t,” was the short reply. It had Peter nearly explode with frustration. “I can, though? I got a job offer in one of the labs on campus, I’m not letting this fly by!” Mister McDougall grabbed Peter’s shoulders and dragged him to the back by his shirt. He nearly flung the young man against the large dishwasher. “You’ll ruin me! You’ll get me killed!” “Don’t be so dramatic!” Peter yelled back. He was done working for Mister McDougall. So done. Peter swallowed his next words when a knife was suddenly pointed at his nose. He stared at it wide-eyed as he got ushered into a corner. “Tony owns this building, Peter, and the only reason I’m allowed to stay here is because you work here.” “Wha-“ “SHUT UP! You shut your mouth! I’d have fired you ages ago if it weren’t for him!” Tears pricked in the corners of Peter’s eyes. “If you leave, I’m going to pay your aunt a visit. And none of us will like what I’ll do to her.” What was happening? What was going on? Why did his boss threaten him like this? “S-sir?” “You’re not quitting, you hear me? You’re gonna get your ass back on the floor and you’re gonna do your job. As long as Tony doesn’t hate you, I can keep this business. You don’t want me to lose this business do you?” He waved the knife, pushing it towards Peter’s left eye and resting the tip right below it. The young man leaned back as far as the wall allowed him to. “Do you?!” Peter didn’t even dare to blink. “No, sir,” he lied. “Why are you so scared of him?” Mister McDougall laughed maniacally. “Why aren’t you?!” He yelled. “That’s Tony Stark! He owns sixty percent of New York!” The world stopped spinning. Tony - Peter’s Tony - is Tony Stark. The biggest, baddest Mafia Boss of New York. Known to be vile, relentless and cruel to anyone who dares to cross his path. And Peter… Peter had fallen in love with him. No. No, he didn’t. He fell in love with Tony. Not with Stark. But if they were one and the same, maybe the stories were wrong? Maybe- “You didn’t know?” Mister McDougall stepped back and let his arm down. Peter finally allowed himself to breathe, even if it was the worst intake of air he’d ever done. He held back his tears with everything he had. “No.” “Jesus Christ.” Mister McDougall threw his hands up, flailing the knife around. “You’re an idiot!” “But-“ A quiet beep came from McDougall’s wrist. He looked at his watch and turned. “Two minutes, Peter- hurry up!” Mister McDougall’s high pitched command reverbs through the coffee shop. In two minutes, it’ll be two PM on the Tuesday afternoon. Peter’s been working here for three years now. Just yet, he tried to quit, but that wasn’t taken kindly. He can still feel the eerie presence of the tip of a knife on his cheekbone. How Peter got himself stuck in this job is a long story. A very long one. “Get to work.” Peter swallowed and blinked away his tears as he walked into the front of the store. He took a deep breath and fumbled with some of the cups on the counter. Mister McDougall stayed in the back, as usual. Peter looked up, startled, when the bell rang. Tony walked in, blissfully unaware and leaned on the counter like he always did. Peter was bad at hiding his fear, he knew that, and it didn’t even take a second before Tony caught on. “Did you cry?” His question was blunt. Straight to the point. “I’m alright, I hit my head.” Peter had to pause to clear his throat in the middle of his sentence. His words were small. Unsure. Tony didn’t buy it. “Who hurt you?” A shiver ran up Peter’s spine. He couldn’t tell Tony about what Mister McDougall did to him. As much as he disliked the man, he didn’t want the deadliest man in the area to… To hurt him. Peter didn’t dare think of the k word. But more importantly, he didn’t want anything to happen to May. “Me,” Peter tried to sound cheerful, but his voice shook. “I hit my head. I hurt me.” Peter finished up the black coffee and turned to give it to Tony, so he could start making his own Frappuccino. Tony wanted to take his hand, but Peter swiftly turned around. He played the machine to make his own drink, but he couldn’t focus. He couldn’t make it last. He had to get it done. As fast as possible. He had to get this over with. Tony spoke, but Peter didn’t hear it. He could already feel the tears threatening to glide down his cheeks. He couldn’t pretend. He couldn’t- Tony grabbed Peter’s wrist from over the counter and the Frappuccino cup slipped from the barista’s fingers. Peter stared wide-eyed at how the scorching hot liquid gushed onto Tony’s suit. The stain was evident, but Tony seemed unfazed by the heat. Peter’s lip trembled and he was certain there was no oxygen left in the store. He had spilled his coffee on the suit of the most dangerous man in New York City. Peter barely dared to look up, but when he saw Tony’s expression, his shoulders fell. The way the man looked at him was… Vulnerable. “You’re afraid.” Tony’s voice was fragile. “Of me?” Peter squeezed his eyes shut, letting the tears flow freely now. He screwed up. He screwed everything up. “I don’t know,” Peter replied honestly, through quiet sobs. Tony swiftly jumped over the counter so he could embrace Peter. “Talk to me, Bambino.” “I- I didn’t know-“ “Didn’t know what?” “S-Stark-“ “Yes, Frappuccino, that’s me.” “Did you just call me-“ “Yes, did it make you feel better?” Peter scoffed, but managed to smile. “A little.” Tony then pushed Peter away from him to force the young man to look him in the eye by holding Peter’s chin between his thumb and index finger. “Did you really not know?” Now Peter feels stupid. He should’ve caught on, obviously. Everybody knew Tony Stark. Peter pushed his lips together and gently shook his head. “Oh, bother,” Tony mumbled as he pulled Peter against his chest to hug him tightly. Peter’s insides were in a struggle. Every part of his rational brain told him to get out of there. To push Tony away. The man was bad news. He reeked of danger, yet… He smelled so wonderful. His cologne invaded Peter’s nostrils and there was no way the young man could let go of him. The way his arms were wrapped around Peter’s shoulders, the way he held him, kept him warm and safe... No matter how frightening Tony might be, Peter felt protected. He was exactly where he was supposed to be. Peter’s face was pressed against Tony’s shirt and he could feel the wet coffee stain from Tony’s suit seep onto his own pants. A hand found its way into Peter’s hair and gently started massaging his scalp. The soft lips Peter had only imagined up until now, pressed themselves onto his curls and stayed there, leaving long, slow pecks. Sometimes, Tony hummed. With every passing second, Peter’s muscles relaxed more and more until his body practically went limp against Tony’s. “Now…” The man finally spoke. He gently pushed Peter away from him until he could look Peter in the eyes, hands cupping his face. His thumb gently stroked away the drying tears and he smiled kindly. “Who hurt you?” Peter’s pouting lips were pressed together. He tried to hide the truth, but one quick glance towards the back and Tony knew enough. “Please, don’t kill him,” Peter whispered. Tony scoffed softly. “Is that why you’re suddenly afraid of me?” Tony pushed forward slightly, until something long and hard pressed against Peter’s thigh. And it wasn’t Tony’s cock. “Cause I’m not just happy to see you?” Peter whimpered and closed his eyes, still not wanting to leave Tony’s embrace, even though he was afraid of what might happen next. “Do you know why I own 64.7 percent of New York?” Peter shook his head lightly, focusing his attention on Tony’s warm hands still keeping his face up by his cheeks. “Because I don’t just shoot whoever gets in my way. I give people a chance,” Tony said matter of factly. “Take your boss, for example. This building? It’s mine.” The way Tony enunciated the word, not just verbally but also with a soft squeeze of his hands, had a shiver run down Peter’s spine. “Ex-gambling addict who wanted to get back on track. Promising fellow. Clean for years. He loaned a chunk of my money to start his business. All was good. A thriving coffee store can make quite a bit of money in this area in New York. During my first visit I learned that not everything I offered him went into this shop. Told him I wanted the money back that he didn’t spend on the store. He also couldn’t pay rent. Somehow.” Peter breathlessly listened to everything that came out of Tony’s mouth. “I gave him another shot. Told him to have my money ready in a month. That’s a fair time to make what he owed me. And when I came into the store to collect… I found you. And your boss? Well, he wasn’t exactly at a convention. He was at the other side of the country, though. In Vegas.” Tony sighed and broke eye contact for a few seconds. “This is where it gets embarrassing…” He mumbled. “Embarrassing?” “I was completely enamored by you, Peter.” Tony’s eyes reconnect with Peter’s and they lock gazes. “And I decided that, when you called McDougall, I’d change the deal. He’d get a delay on his debt as long as you would be there to serve me coffee. On Tuesdays. At two PM. Figured you’d stick around for a while, give McDougall enough time to cover his ass.” “So,” Tony cocked his head. “After half a year, he still doesn’t have my money. And I’m guessing you want to quit the job?” Peter nodded, face contorting. “He had a knife and-“ “A knife?” The energy in the room changed abruptly. From loving and caring to dark and aggressive. Peter immediately pulled back, but Tony’s grip on him tightened. “He threatened you?” He seethed. “No- Tony, please,” Peter begged, but he didn’t fight. “Is he in the back?” Tony stared Peter down with an intense gaze. The young barista froze. “Peter.” “Yes.” Peter felt small, yet his body betrayed him when his cock stirred at Tony’s authoritative voice. Tony guided Peter to one of the chairs and gently sat him down. His hands caressed Peter’s curls before he pressed another kiss on top of them. He bent down until he squatted in front of Peter and looked up reassuringly. “I will not physically harm him, I promise. I just want to have a word with him, okay?” “Okay…” Tony smiled and nodded before standing up and making his way towards the back. Before he disappeared, Tony looked behind him one more time and winked at Peter. Probably to relieve the tension. Not long after Tony went to the back, Peter was startled by the doorbell. He looked up and quickly collected himself before greeting the customer, wiping the remainder of his dried tears away. “Good afternoon, Sir, how can I help you?” Peter barely managed to put up his customer smile. The man was a bit scruffy looking, dark haired and he had a slight beard. There was a strange look in his eye. Peter wanted to walk around the counter to his usual spot to take the order, but the man stopped him. “Hold it there.” Peter paused his trek and turned back to the man with a questioning look. The man suddenly bolted for him, but Peter realized too late he was holding something in his hand. Peter tried to yell but before any sound could leave his mouth, it was covered by a damp cloth. His eyes went wide as he stared straight into the other man’s. He had no choice but to inhale the strange and intense, sweet scent of whatever was in that piece of fabric. The man didn’t smile, nor did he look angry. He seemed rather indifferent. The man’s other arm wrapped around Peter’s body, right before he lost the strength in his muscles and dropped against the man’s chest. Peter’s mind suddenly felt over-stuffed with fuzz and it was only a few seconds before his muffled scream died out and his eyes rolled back. Right when Peter lost himself, the man spoke softly, with a mocking tone, before carrying him out of the coffee shop. “Night night.” … Peter’s head felt like it was going to burst. He could barely open his eyes, but the hand that pulled him back at his hair in the uncomfortable chair forced him to wake up. He gasped for air, squinting his eyes into slits in the bright light. “Wakey, wakey.” A dark voice echoed through the room, ringing Peter’s ears. He finally managed to open his eyes when the light was blocked by a shape. A person. “Eh…” A soft whine escaped Peter’s lips, but the sound wasn’t taken kindly. The person- man- yanked at his hair, causing Peter to wince in pain. The man was bald, but had a thick beard. A scowl pulled the strangers bushy eyebrows together and Peter’s entire body tensed when he spotted the gun in the man’s other hand. “So…” The man leaned in and cocked his head. “All this trouble for a twink.” Peter tightened his jaw even further and kept his lips glued together. The man quite forcefully let go of Peter’s hair, allowing Peter to take in his surroundings. They were in a plain room, nothing too interesting. Peter could hear seagulls outside. They were probably close to water? The door was guarded by two imposing looking men, one of them Peter recognized as the guy who took him out. In the darkness of the room, a camera seemed to be recording them, judging by the red light flickering in the corner. “Barista,” Peter mumbled, staring at the gun in the guards’ hands.. “Excuse me?” The man pushed into Peter’s space again, seemingly offended. Peter held his breath, but replied anyways, eyes locking with the bald man’s. “I’m just a barista.” “Just a-“ the man interrupted himself, put his hands on his hips and leaned back, letting out an over the top laugh. When he finally calmed himself again, he bolted forward, pressing the gun against Peter’s neck. The young man instinctively tilted his head up, eyes wide at the unexpected aggression. “You,” the man spit out accusingly. “Tony seems to think more of you.” “He doesn’t,” Peter bluffed, silently swearing at himself for his reckless bravery. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in through his nose. “I just make his coffee. Black. Every Tuesday.” “Right,” the man scoffed and revealed Peter’s unlocked phone from his inner pocket. “And does just making his coffee include a happy ending?” “N-no-, it’s-“ “Nighttime sexting? Then?” The man sauntered around Peter, casually scrolling through Tony’s and Peter’s chat. “Was hoping to find some intel, but all I got was your disgusting conversations.” Peter swallowed hard. He angled his head to look down so that he wouldn’t have to meet the man’s judging eyes. “I’m not gonna lie,” the man sighed. “Those voice messages? Your moans? They’d rile up anyone.” Peter gently tugged at his restraints, pressing his eyes shut. To say he was afraid of what the man could and might do to him was an understatement. The thought alone paralyzed him. There was a pressing ache in his chest and a growing need to get out of there. If only he could move. “What do you want from me,” Peter managed to push out. The man chuckled darkly. “I want at least 75% of what Stark has.” The man stopped circling Peter to gently push the tip of his gun through the young man’s hair- toying with it. “And you’re going to make sure he gives it to me.” “As if,” Peter replied simply, immediately swallowing his confidence. It now weighs heavy in his stomach. One short glance at the guards made them leave the room. They shut the door behind them and Peter couldn’t help but hold his breath. “Tell the camera-“ The man gestured at the red flashing dot. “-Tell Tony- what to do. If he doesn’t give me what I want, I will take what he wants most.” Peter looked up at the man confused, but the man’s smirk made the student’s legs burst with adrenaline. He wanted to run away, but he couldn’t. He’s bound. The man’s eyes sparkled and turned to slits. The wide toothy grin plastered on his face had Peter’s heart drop. “You.” “Oh, don’t worry about that ol’ camera.” A familiar voice said from the door opening. Peter and the man turned their heads towards it surprised. There, Tony lazily stood against the door post, the two men that Peter had met one Tuesday accompanying him. The guards that were there before were now laying on the floor. Peter quietly hoped they were nothing more than unconscious. “You can ask me, right here, right now, Stane.” Tony absentmindedly studied the pistol in his hand, turning and twisting it. Loading it. “Tsk. Answer’s gonna be no, though.” He moved to stand up straight, confidence oozing off every inch of him. “I’m here to take back what’s mine.” A shiver ran down Peter’s spine and he gulped when the gun that was still aimed at him pushed under his jaw. He dropped his head backwards in an attempt to get away from it and whined quietly. Peter’s breath quivered and he squeezed his eyes shut again. “If you want your boy to live, you’re gonna do exactly what I want.” “Hmm.” Tony grinned. “If you put a bullet in his head, I’m not even gonna use my gun.” He squared up, tightening every muscle in his body. The look in his eye was dark and resolute. “Will let you pick how you go, though. Could snap your neck- stick a knife through your brain. Wiggle it around a little to make your corpse spasm. Heck, I’ll rearrange your guts first if you want me to. Bet that’ll feel real nice.” Peter could barely believe the words falling from the man’s lips were Tony’s. Apparently, neither could the guy Tony called Stane. “You’re all talk, Stark. Never seen you hurt a damn fly, that’s what you got your goons for,” Stane sneered accusingly. “First time for everything,” Tony replied collected. Stane then pulled loose the ropes around Peter’s body and pulled him up, forcing him to stand with his back flush against the man’s chest. Stane wouldn’t allow him to stand comfortably, keeping him up on his toes as the nuzzle of the gun pressed up under his chin. As free as the lack of ropes made Peter feel, the presence of the gun annihilated any feeling of liberty. “Obadiah, I swear to mother Maria, if you so much as leave a scratch on Peter, you will regret it.” Stane didn’t seem fazed by Tony’s threats. He had the upper hand after all. He had Peter. “We’re leaving now. Don’t think I won’t shoot. I will.” Peter complied the nudge in his back, taking small steps in the direction of the door. Obadiah moved the gun until it rested against Peter’s temple. “Step into the room.” Tony’s jaw tightened, but after a few seconds he cast his eyes downward, entering the space. His bluffing hadn’t worked and the soft shaking of his clenched fist betrayed his frustration. He genuinely seemed afraid to lose Peter. In return, Peter was afraid to lose him. The two men Tony had brought with him, joined him silently. When they were all far away enough from the door, Obadiah shuffled Peter to the opening. They reached the hallway and Stane forced Peter to step over the – hopefully – unconscious guards. All Peter could think was ‘No-no-no-no-‘ at the mere idea of being taken to another location. One Tony might not be able to find him at. One he might actually die at. Peter took a deep breath and decided to do something reckless. He could only die once anyways. The second Obadiah pulled the gun back a little to give Peter more walking space, the barista ducked away from the gun, pivoted on his feet and pushed Stane back into the wall with all the force he had. There was a gunshot. One that had Peter’s eyes go wide. With the lack of pain or blood, Peter realized Stane had missed. Adrenaline pumped through his body at an incredibly rapid pace. Peter fell backwards on his ass and saw Obadiah’s gun that had been dropped in the process. The student scrambled to grab it in a reflex. He pushed himself back against the wall, knees up, eyes unblinking and wide, as he aimed the gun two-handedly at Stane who laid there with his hands up. The feral look in Peter’s eye told the small gang leader enough. No matter how scared, this kid would shoot if he had to. Peter couldn’t blink. He just couldn’t. He barely heard the footsteps next to him. Barely felt a hand rest on his shoulder, as another lifted to be placed on Peter’s shaking hands, holding the gun. All Peter could do was stare at Obadiah, stinging tears nearly obstructing his view. His breathing was quick and erratic and he didn’t realize how much he was vibrating until Tony’s voice pushed through the veil, clouding his mind. “I need you to let go of the gun for me.” Peter only clutched the weapon tighter, his finger twitched on the trigger. His breathing was loud and fast, making his entire body buzz with tension. “Boss, he’s in shock, he won’t-“ “Peter,” Tony said a little softer. “I’m right here, Frappuccino, look at me.” The hand that was on his shoulder before, now cupped Peter’s chin, gently forcing him to turn his head. Peter’s eyes didn’t leave Obadiah, though. He held his breath, hearing his heartbeat thump in his brain. “Peter…” For the first time in what felt like forever, Peter blinked, which caused the tears that had been threatening to spill up until now to glide down his cheeks. He found himself staring at Tony’s face as his body slowly lost tension. The man’s brows were furrowed, but his expression was soft. He carefully took the gun out of Peter’s hands and pulled him in for an embrace. Peter hid his face against the man’s chest and couldn’t help but sob into it, adding another stain to Tony’s expensive suit. “Oh, Peter.” Tony’s voice was muffled against Peter’s hair. “You’re okay, we’re okay.” Just like he did earlier that day in the coffee shop, his fingers tangled in Peter’s hair and started massaging his scalp. “You’re with me now, ‘s all good.” Another time, Peter would’ve been embarrassed for being pulled into Tony’s lap in front of all these strangers, but right now he couldn’t care less. His arms wrapped tightly around Tony’s torso as the man left his dragged out, flat kisses on Peter’s head. “M-sorry,” Peter mumbled between sobs, curling up into Tony’s embrace and tugging in his legs. “Sorry-“ “Ssh, ssh- you have nothing to be sorry for, my sweet.” They stayed like that for a short while, Tony rocking Peter back and forth until his heartbeat settled and his muscles relaxed. Eventually, Tony stood up, carrying Peter bridal style. “Let me take you home.” … Peter woke up among the softest of silk sheets, surrounded by an abundance of throw pillows, wearing nothing but his underwear and an oversized white T-shirt with a V-neck. Everything smelled like Tony. Peter groaned at the stiffness of his muscles and turned around, half surprised by Tony sitting on an armchair next to the large canopy bed. “Morning, sunshine,” he said with a smile. Tony was wearing sweats and a similar T-shirt. The corners of Peter’s mouth curled up too and he instinctively folded into himself, pulling the sheets up to his chin. “Morning.” “How are you feeling?” Tony leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Little stiff,” Peter answered honestly. As if on cue, his stomach growled. “And hungry.” “My cook’s making us breakfast as we speak. Should be here soon.” “I knew you were rich, but a personal chef?” Peter chuckled. “Isn’t that a bit overkill?” “Look, kid,” Tony laughed, sitting up straight again. “I don’t have time to make my own meals. I’m a busy man.” “Busy enough to visit me every Tuesday at two,” Peter teased, the sparkle in his eyes evident. Tony seemed relieved Peter was acting like his usual self. “Hey, hey,” he said, shaking his head. “I scheduled in that time. I always wanted you to have my undivided attention. That was my me-time.” Peter’s smile faltered. “Was,” he parroted quietly. There was no way he could go back to his barista job. To mister McDougall. Not that he particularly wanted to work for that man anymore, but it felt like this pleasant chapter of this life ended with a terrible cliffhanger. Now, Peter was at the start of the next chapter, going through the repercussions of what happened before. “Pete, I-“ “Where are we?” Tony seemed taken aback by the interruption, but collected himself swiftly. “Home,” Tony replied matter of fact. “My home, to be precise.” He cleared his throat and looked away uncharacteristically shyly. “Could be yours too if you want.” Peter didn’t reply straight away, which caused Tony to stand up and raise his hands in a defensive manner. “But we shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves.” There was a knock on the door and Tony cocked an eyebrow at it. “Breakfast,” a muffled voice spoke. “Come in.” A man with a giant tray opened the door. He walked in quickly and placed it on the table next to Tony. “Take the rest of the day off. Paid leave. Tell the others the same, save for the guards outside. I want this house empty within an hour.” The cook nodded and thanked Tony for his generosity. Not long after, Peter and Tony were alone again. Peter stared at the over-filled tray and licked his lips. “Anything that tickles your fancy?” Tony’s words are accompanied with a smirk. “A coffee sounds good right about now.” Tony immediately perked up and turned to grab the carefully made Frappuccino, but before he could curl his fingers around the cup, Peter continued: “Actually-“ Tony looks at Peter surprised. Peter grins and nods at the other cup on the tray. “After everything that happened, I could go for something stronger.” “Peter Parker, are you taking my black coffee from me?” Tony chuckled. Peter pulled himself up so he sat up straight among the throw pillows. He then reached forward with both arms, making grabby hands at Tony. “Mayyybe,” he teased. Tony laughed as he complied, handing Peter the black coffee. Peter gratefully took a sip and pulled a face at the bitterness burning his throat. “Sure you don’t want the sugar, sugar?” Peter snorted and nearly spilled the coffee on the bed. He looked into the deep black of the cup in his hands and then up at Tony. “Fine,” Peter said with a grin, offering Tony the black coffee. Peter waited for the older man to give him the Frappuccino, but instead, Tony stood up. “Here,” he said, lifting the tray and placing it on the bedside table. “Mind if I join you?” Peter didn’t answer, he just lifted the sheets. Gratefully, Tony slid in, placing himself flush against Peter and handing him the Frappuccino. For a short while, they just sipped their coffees, not exchanging any words. Peter occasionally glanced at the food on the bedside table, unable to choose where he’d even start. He let go of his thoughts for a little bit, letting his mind wander to yesterday. To Obadiah Stane, to the rope burn on his wrists, the feel of the gun against his head, in his hand, the trigger under his finger. Tony. Tony was there to save him. “I’m here to take back what’s mine.” Peter was his. And while his rational brain was scared of this mob boss side of Tony that he only just learned about, there was something exhilarating about it too. Tony was still Tony- still the same man Peter made all these black coffees for, the man he had late night conversations with via text. Peter thought back to before he lost himself to sleep, how he was being cradled by Tony, sitting in his lap. The memory made him feel warm, somehow. Peter swallowed and took a breath. “I felt safe,” Peter whispered. “Hm?” Tony turned his head slightly and put down his now empty cup on the nightstand. “Yesterday.” Peter’s brows furrowed as he kept staring ahead. “In your lap.” He paused, trying to put his thoughts in a row and say something a bit more sophisticated. However, he couldn’t think of the right words, so he just repeated himself. “I felt safe.” It was quiet for a second. “Do…” Tony sniffed once and tugged at the tray on Peter’s side of the bed. “Do you want to sit on my lap now?” Peter’s mouth went dry, even though he just finished his coffee. The tension between them hung thick in the air. He looked at Tony wide-eyed, but quickly averted his gaze again. “Yes,” he mumbled, nothing more than a whisper. “What was that?” “Yes… Please?” “Good boy.” Peter shivered and closed his eyes, but only until he felt Tony gently pulling at his arm. He didn’t struggle as Tony guided him to sit on his thighs, back pressed against the older man’s chest. “Oh, Bambino,” Tony cooed as Peter’s ass pressed against Tony’s already hardening shaft. “Been through so much. Let me help you.” Peter wanted to ask what Tony meant, but the man had already taken the mug from Peter’s hands, placed it on the bedside table and grabbed a blueberry muffin from the breakfast tray. “Hold this,” he ordered, giving the muffin to Peter. Their hands grazed past each other, eliciting a small gasp from the younger man. Tony immediately moved to rip a small piece off of it and brought it up to Peter’s lips. Peter stared entranced at Tony’s rough hand. “Go on, my sweet,” Tony whispered into Peter’s hair. “Eat up.” Peter leaned in and opened his mouth. He carefully maneuvered himself in an attempt not to touch Tony’s fingers, not wanting to be weird or gross, but Tony had other plans. He pushed in his fingers to help the piece into Peter’s mouth and then brushed his fingers over Peter’s lips. Peter didn’t realize his eyes were closed, but there wasn’t much to see anyways- save for the lusciously decorated room. Peter was more occupied with feeling right now. And boy, did Tony’s lips on his neck feel absolutely perfect. He chewed slowly, savoring the sweet taste on his tongue. Tony’s free arm was possessively curled around Peter to caress his neck from the front, grazing past his Adam’s apple and gently squeezing right under his jaw until he swallowed. Tony presented Peter with another bite, but this time he really pushed his fingers in. Peter wrapped his lips around the digits and sucked, moaning softly. “That’s it…” Peter absentmindedly spread his legs on Tony’s lap, arching his back to grind into Tony’s groin. Tony’s other hand found its way down Peter’s body until it cupped Peter’s balls through his underwear. Peter immediately pushed into it and gasped at the gentle rubbing of Tony’s thumb. “Thaaat’s it…” Tony took his fingers out of Peter’s mouth, a small string of saliva dripping down, to take the muffin out of Peter’s hands, put it on the tray and then stick his fingers into the small bowl of jam. His other hand fondles Peter at a steady rhythm and Peter rolls his hips along with it. “Feeling good for Daddy, Peter?” The young man smiles lazily and nods, letting his head fall back against Tony’s shoulder. “Y-yes,” Peter whimpered. “Feels so good.” An overly sweet scent filled Peter’s nostrils. He opened his eyes to see Tony’s jam covered fingers. He stared at them transfixed, mouth already opening, tongue hanging out, ready to take it all. “Atta boy,” Tony whispered, suckling on Peter’s skin. “Don’t hold back. It’s all yours…” Peter didn’t hesitate and grabbed Tony’s hand with both of his own, pulling it toward him to lick the sweet strawberry jam off of Tony’s fingers. The fingers of one hand were curled around just the thumb, while the other gripped onto the man’s palm. “Don’t hold back,” Tony repeated with a squeeze of his hand around Peter’s clothed cock. The young man immediately moaned louder, pressing himself against Tony harder and licking the man’s fingers clean in a near-obscene manner. “Aren’t you a good boy?” Tony growled as he slowly started to push up against Peter’s ass. Peter groaned and clenched around nothing, working his way down Tony’s hand and suckling at the golden ring on his index finger. “Yours,” Peter gasped between licks. “Your good boy-“ Apparently those were the right words, because Tony let out a guttural moan and within seconds, they were flipped over with Peter lying on his back on the bed and Tony possessively hovering over him, caging Peter with his arms. Peter was met with Tony’s dark pools and twitching nose. There was something animalistic about the otherwise so collected man Peter had served coffee to. It had Peter’s cock throb with anticipation. Tony’s wet fingers pushed under Peter’s shirt to tweak and tug at one of his nipples. “Mine,” Tony pushed out, immediately moving in to ravage Peter’s lips himself, tasting the flavors Peter had only just taken in. Peter, in turn, could taste the bitter coffee. “My sweet.” Peter pulled at Tony’s shirt, quietly telling Tony he wanted them to get naked. The man seemed to understand and within a minute all clothes were discarded. Tony’s cock stood tall and proud and had a girth that had Peter drooling. He wanted it in his mouth. ASAP. “Eager, eager,” Tony chuckled darkly as he saw Peter’s eyes locked on the swaying dick in front of him. Peter’s gaze broke free and he gave Tony a pleading look. “Next time, my sweet.” Tony leaned in to give Peter a short, passionate kiss while his hands squeezed nearly half a lube bottle all over Peter’s groin, slicking him up as Tony massaged every inch of skin. Peter immediately granted Tony access into his mouth and Tony eagerly licked the insides. He pulled back again and grinned. “You first.” Tony’s free hand grabbed hold of Peter’s cock, squeezing it until Peter saw stars. His hips bucked up into Tony’s touch while his hands grabbed at the sheets in an attempt to ground himself as Tony’s hands pleasured him. He moaned with every loudly-squishing jerk of Tony’s hand, but it wasn’t going fast enough. “More-more-more, please, Daddy-“ Tony seemed pleased with the begging, because the hand at Peter’s nipple slowly travelled down his toned body, grabbing and coating itself with the excess lube. “Sure you want more?” Tony had a wicked grin on his face. “Cause I can give you everything.” He curled his tongue up to lick his own teeth. “If you think you can handle it.” “Yes,” Peter gasped, arching his back more, pressing his head into the throw pillows. “Please, please, want everything, want it all, want you-“ “Good answer.” Tony’s praise goes paired with him mercilessly pushing his index finger into Peter’s tight hole. The young man gasped at the sudden sting, but his expression turned to absolute bliss in an instant. He clenched and unclenched around Tony’s digit and soon enough, Tony started pulling out and pushing back in, curling his finger in the process, in search of Peter’s… Sweet spot. “God, yes, T-Tony, Daddy-“ Peter moaned as his body rocked under Tony’s attention. “Mr. Stark-!” Tony’s eyes went wide, revealing a previously unseen aggression behind them. His movements became more forceful and he lowered his face until it was right in front of Peter’s. “Yes, boy, call me that again. Do it.” “M-Mi-“ Peter squeezed his eyes shut, completely overwhelmed by all the sensations and the tightening knot in his abdomen. His balls were tight and his heartbeat throbbed everywhere. “Whose cock is this, Peter, tell me who it belongs to-“ Tony let his thumb glide over the tip of Peter’s cock as he quickened his pace and the intensity of his jerks. “Yours- Mr. Stark, it’s y-yours!” Peter’s reply was rewarded with Tony’s mouth sucking marks on Peter’s neck. “And this hole? Huh? Who does this belong to?” Right when Tony uttered the words, he found what he’d been looking for. Peter opened his mouth wide in a silent scream as his body convulsed. “Yes, yes, yours, yours-“ Tony attacked Peter’s prostate without remorse, not halting any movement. He was good at this and he owned it. He owned Peter. “And your mouth? Your chest and your arms and your legs and your neck-“ Tony cut his own rambles short by biting into the skin right below Peter’s jaw, eliciting another loud moan from him. “Mr. Stark’s, his- his, yours!” “That’s it, good boy, it’s all mine. You’re all mine!” “F-fuck, I’m gonna come, Mr. Stark- Please, please-“ Peter’s gasps were erratic. The complete polar opposite of Tony’s near robotic movements. Along the way, he had added two more fingers into Peter’s sopping hole and he kept pumping mercilessly, curling his fingers at just the right moment. The young man was practically folded in two on the bed, taking everything Tony was giving him. He’d never felt this good in his entire life and he basked in the hot sheen covering his body. All his fantasies, all their sexts, were now reality. Tony stayed true to his word. Everything he had promised Peter, he was now giving- almost forcing- upon the young man and he loved it. They both did. “So close, my sweet, stay on that edge for me, don’t tip over just yet-“ Tony growled. “Make...” The young man found himself humping into Tony’s fist, moaning at the trademarked line that had started falling from the mob boss’s lips. “It…“ Peter whined as his body shook, trying to hold onto the last bit of sanity that he had left before he would lose it all and spill. “Last…“ Every part of Peter’s being writhed and convulsed at the scorching pleasure pumping through him. He had to make it last. He had to wait. Had to drag it out. Felt so good. Too good. Yes, yes- yes! “That’s it… Just a little longer,” Tony encouraged. Peter’s eyes rolled back and to his dismay, Tony sped up even more. “Haaa-,” Every muscle in Peter’s body shook with tension, ready for that blissful release. “Yeees, good boy, such a good boy, hold on…” Tony’s breath was hot on Peter’s lips. His deep voice vibrated through Peter’s body, sending even more surges of arousal through him. “Open your eyes. Look at me.” Peter’s jaw was locked as his eyes fluttered open. He stared straight into Tony’s and the sight had his toes curl. “Come.” Peter’s vision went white at the intense eruption bursting from him. If he screamed, he didn’t hear himself. All he could do was experience it. White streaks covered his abdomen and Tony’s hand and the overstimulating sensation of his orgasm seemed to last forever. After who-knows-how-long, Peter came down from his high, panting and twitching on the mattress, body completely limp. Tony was lying next to him, whispering sweet praise into his ear and slowly bringing Peter back to reality with his calming voice and caressing hands. Peter blinked a few times, his vision sharpening again until Tony was completely in focus. The man smiled. “Good morning, sunshine,” he repeated himself. Peter chuckled and cuddled up against Tony’s chest. Tony immediately embraced him, tangling their legs together. “Morning,” Peter laughed softly. It was quiet for a minute while Peter cleared his mind, basking in the afterglow of what was the most intense orgasm he’s ever experienced. “Thank you,” he whispered against Tony’s body. The man kissed the top of Peter’s head, humming softly. “No, my sweet, thank you.” After another hour of cuddling together Peter shuffled back so he could look Tony in the eye. “We should probably get out, don’t we?” Tony smiled kindly, pressing his fingers through Peter’s curls. “Work can wait.” “I wasn’t talking about work…” There was a playful sparkle in Peter’s eyes. “I want to explore this place.” “Can’t we cuddle a little longer?” “I’ll stay naked,” Peter teased. “We’re alone anyways… And I’ll make you coffee?” “Are you trying to bribe me with coffee that requires pressing one button?” Tony teased right back. Peter moved to sit up straight and tossed the sheets on top of Tony. He jumped out of bed, his cock already hardening again and bouncing with every movement. Tony grinned and seemed to be enjoying this newfound confidence Peter had. “I don’t know, Mr. Stark, am I?” Peter sauntered towards the door and opened it swiftly, arching his back and showing off his toned body as he walked through. Tony’s cock, that had started softening up after not getting any attention last round, sprung back to life at the sight. “Could make the coffee last, but… I’m sure there are other rooms in this place where I could make it last?” Tony laughed positively wicked and crawled over the bed towards Peter. The young man squealed delighted and ran out into the hallway. Tony stepped out of the bed and started chasing his good boy through the mansion.

[thewaytoaclonesheart]

Chosen Heart ✨

Rated: T due to sexy time reference.

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, Waxer and Boil being little sh*ts, clonecest (non explicit and only briefly)

Summary: “I think we’ve both been dancing, so to speak, around our feelings for some time. At least I know I have.” Cody was shocked. He had expected discussing tactics, not what seemed to be shaping into a heartfelt confession.

Obi-wan and Cody has been dancing around each other for some time. It seems now is the time to act upon their mutual feelings. Although.. they really didn’t expect to run into Waxer and Boil on the way.

Crossposted on Ao3 on account: teenfreaker

_______________________________________________

It had been difficult, more so than usual.

Cody was more than tired, exhausted really. They had only just separated from the 501st after ensuring their safety, and the republics foothold, on a small mid-rim planet. A constant downpour and bad terrain had made progression difficult, and even more so when several of the men became injured. While Cody hadn’t spend a lot of time with Fives, he knew it had shook all members of Torrent Company to see him so weak and lifeless.

Thankfully, the 212th had arrived during the final stages of the storm, and then immediately deployed all medics to assist the 501st, and as many men as needed to ensure the foothold, Cody and his General among them.

And now? Why was he standing in a haze of his own, while he should be listening to his own general and General Windu discussing the mission, and subsequently the state of both the 501st and 212th. The answer was made clear to Cody when he looked at Ob- his general, and saw the man sending a small, but genuine, smile his way.

He had saved him, Obi-wan had saved him from a native creature, more interested in ripping Cody and his men apart, than being tamed. Only, the general had stepped in, and used the force to tame the creatures, and saving the men, including Cody.

“Well done, Obi-wan, you not only secured a foothold for the Republic, but did so with minimal losses” Cody heard General Windu say.

It wasn’t often the man made a conscious effort to praise, although Cody didn’t question that the General was a kind man. Ponds had spoken kindly and respectfully of his General to Cody and the rest of their batchmates more than once, cementing the belief, that General Windu was a fair and kind man, unafraid of risking his hide for his men, earning even more respect for doing so.

“And Obi-wan? Give my regards and praise to young Skywalker as well.” The words shook Cody out of his haze, and he once again focused on the holo of General Windu. “He handled himself and his men extremely well, given circumstances, and has proven he was more than ready for command.” While it was no secret, not even amongst most of the Vode, that Windu and Skywalker didn’t always agree or get along, there was certainly mutual respect and understanding between them, evident in the Masters tone.

But it was Obi-wan’s, when had he become Obi-wan and not general?, smile that captured Cody’s attention. It was a genuine smile, one seen lesser and lesser as the war progressed, especially if his men had been injured or compromised, and it seemed this extended to the 501st as well. Not that it surprised Cody. General Skywalker was, after all, once his own Generals Ad, and so the protective streak extending to the young mans troops wasn’t all that surprising.

“May the force be with you as well, Mace” Having zoned again, Cody caught the last of the holotransmission between the two generals, and saw the blue image flicker, then disappear. They were now nearly alone on the bridge, most of the men resting, and only the troopers on the night rotation around.

“Would you join me Cody? I would like to speak with you” Obi-wan asked and gestures to the doors, leading onto the rest of the ship. The words, or perhaps the request, made the back of Cody’s neck sweat. This sounded personal, not professional, and they had already debriefed before the transmission. Well, curiously and perhaps slightly sheepishly, he answered his general “yes sir, lead the way”.

they walked the halls of the ship in comfortable silence, with an air of anticipation surrounding them. They crossed paths with a few troopers, most noticeably Waxer and Boil stumbling out from one of the refreshers. And hadn’t that brought embarrassed smiles and blushing all around? While most of the Vode participated in a little fun and fraternization with each other, which most generals knew, most generals didn’t know about some of the Vode marrying each other, speaking the Riduurrok. Although it did seem like their general wasn’t surprised seeing Waxer and Boil together, or that they quickly stammered out an apology, only to rush down the hall, towards then on-board barracks. Hell, the General even smirked at them. Smirked! Suddenly Cody found himself more worried and at ease at the same time. How was that even possible?

He wasn’t a fool, nor was he blind. He knew about Codys feelings towards him, and recognized them being the same as his own. But it wasn’t just the force or his instincts telling him. It was the small gestures, the cup of tea Cody would bring along with his own cup of a caf, when they were discussing tactics, or briefing a mission. It was the way Cody would ensure his health after every mission, ask him how he was doing, ensuring he got food when deployed. The man was not only kind on the eyes, being incredibly handsome, he was kind in the ways of the heart and soul, and it showed through every single action the man made, whether he was giving orders or helping a man of the ground and escorting him to the medics. It hadn’t taken long before he had claimed a small piece of Obi-wans heart, the size of which, had only grown over time.

When they finally reached Obi-wan’s quarters, it took ably a moment to open the door, and gesture for Cody to enter.

They were both nervous, this made specially clear once Cody’s helmet came off, only to be placed on the small desk, sending a metallic clang out into the quiet of the room.

“You wanted to speak, General?” The words nearly took Obi-wan by surprise, only for him to quickly wanting to assure Cody that nothing was the matter. “I think it would be best to drop the formalities, Cody.” Obi-wan said, and sighed before choosing his next words, carefully.

“I think we’ve both been dancing, so to speak, around our feelings for some time. At least I know I have.” Cody was shocked. He had expected discussing tactics, not what seemed to be shaping into a heartfelt confession.

“I.. I’ve come to care for you a great deal Cody, and not only as a friend. At the risk of sounding rather cliché, or even completely lovestruck. You..” Obi-wan hesitated on his next words. While they could certainly go back to comrades and friends, perhaps after a period of embarrassed adjustment, there would be absolutely no going back if he uttered these next words. Obi-wan looked at Cody, and nearly took a step back from the look on the mans face. Pure hopefulness and infatuation, mixed with a slight bit of apprehension, shone as bright as stars in Cody’s eyes.

“You have made yourself a home in my heart, Cody. I didn’t realize until recently, but it seems my heart has found a place with yours as well. Cody, I care for you, you have made my life infinitely better and our battles easier to fight, simply by being apart of my life. I know there’s going to be issues of rank, and I never want you to feel as if you have no choice, or feel like I demand this of you in any way.” Obi-wan breathed, looked up and-

Lips, soft and plumb, found his own in a bruising kiss, only to pull away to show the embarrassed and sheepish face of his hearts chosen.

“I’m sorry Gene..- Obi-wan, I don’t..” Obi-wan spend only mere fractions of a second enjoying the sheepish look on Cody’s face, the slight blush on his cheeks, undeniably resurfacing on his own cheeks just as well.

He reached..

And firmly grasped the back of Cody’s neck, only to drag his lips back to his own with clear-cut confidence and intention. The kiss quickly became impassioned, and their hands found their way unto each other. Obi-wan’s hands quickly finding gaps in armor to grasp, and Cody’s own finding a home each, one in reddish hair and the other on Obi-wans waist.

And in between kisses, bated on quick and happy breaths, Cody could only reply with a single repeated word. Cyare.

And as they kissed, the force seemed to sing and dance in earnest around them. Showing it’s joy in one of its children having found such love in an equal.

[thebrokenstan-au]

Chapter 1: The Call

It all happened when Ford needed him...of course he would try to get ahold of his estranged twin brother whenever he needed him. Ford however didn't know where he was...or if his said twin was even alive. It was..not a reassuring when the eldest of the twins called their mother asking for the phone number or the whereabouts of Stan.

"I haven't 'eard from ya brotha in over the 'ears he was kicked out...I dont even know if he is alive...," his mother, Caryn, said to him her voice filled with tears and fear that one of her boys could be dead.

Stanford hung up after hearing that, his mind buzzing at the possibility that Stanley Pines could be dead...or missing...that is until he recieved a phone call.

"H-hello?," he stuttered out into the reciever.

"Hello is this Mr. Stanford Pines?"

"Y-yes...who is this!? How do you know my name?"

"Hello Mr. Pines, my name is Dr. Earinsberg, I am a psychiatric doctor of the Greystone Park Psychiatric Hospital in Greystone Park, New Jersey...I am calling in regards of a patient of mine," a male voice answered, sounding old and scratchy.

Ford froze for a moment. Why would a doctor from a psych ward call him...? "U-uhm...why are you calling me?"

"Well...Mr. Pines. As I said I am calling in regards of a patient that was placed under my care by a man that goes by Filbrick Pines...I am to believe that that is a relative of yours?"

A cold feeling of dread fell to the pit of his stomach when he heard the name of his father.

The doctor didn't wait for his reply. "I have...had the patient here for ten years, Mr. Pines. I don't think he is making any progression. But possibly seeing a familiar face will help him get back his state of mind," Dr. Earinsburg said.

Stanford couldn't think for a moment...no no...it couldn't be who he thought it was. "Who is the patient sir..," he asked frantically hand gripping harder on the phone. Please please please do not let be who he thought it was.

"Mm...I would think that the male would have told since he is one of your relatives....but the patients name is-"

Fords world froze...when he heard the name he knew the reason as to why his family didnt know the whereabouts of-

"-Stanley Pines."

//so...any thoughts?//

[stray-tori]

i finished “an innocent sin” and now i’m angery >:T

for dohye and dohye only i decided to continue this dumpster fire of a manwha.

click here for the gay flashback commentary (i.e. the only reason I’m here at all)

.

The gay flashback manwha concluded. And some chapter previews have dohye (the black haired guy) on them... Do... Do i want to know. Do i want to do that to myself again. Do i want to see if they get any smidge of closure......

this manwha may have nothing else aside from gay flashback going for it, but the abuse trauma when it's not sexualized is something. As in, thinking one is disgusting for it and that others may not want to be with them because they’ve been in that situations (”used” / dirtied etc).

WAIT THAT WASNT EVEN DOHYE ON THE CHAPTER PREVIEW [it was Noah’s brother Amon TvT] betrayal

????

what is goING ON

idc anymore. im here for dohye only.

W H Y [does the sister want to have a baby with her step-brother]

“Then we’ll be a real family” ... FAIR I GUESS????

WHERE IS DOYHE PLS HE'S STILL KIDNAPPED AND IT JUST ISNT COMINg uP andddd theyre doing it EW

okay so. yknow how they had a lost brother show up. and he's helping them now, so basically they're doing the princess and the pauper thing. And now Noah gets to have sex with his gf (ugh), meanwhile Amon, the brother posing as him, is getting assaulted :) I mean it has some fucked up cutting back and forth energy but GOD WHY

its impressive that he isnt losing the wig in this situation, honestly

also noah is still in his disguise and the gf was like "why tho" and he's like "well i have to get used to my disguise" LIKE BRO YOU DONT EVEN SEE IT AND NOW YOUR GF IS BASICALLY LOOKING AT ANOTHER GUY. I mean I know why. it's for the audience, to look as if that guy was having this. I rly wish they'd tone down the presentation of the assaults i do not want to see this presented horny

DOHYEEEE 

oh

true he completely fell for Amon. so its not actually "i know what Noah looks like and it's not you", it's actually "i know what Amon looks like, and i know its you" sad life. ship food dead

I I AM ?????????????

I WILL THROW

IM ONLY HERE FOR HIM WHY'S HE DEAD NOW

YOU DONT SAY

WHAT. WHY. I MEAN I KNOW BC HE WAS ABOUT TO BLOW HIS COVER BUT BRUHHHH BRUHHHHH HOW DOES THIS MAKE ANY SENSE ?????????????????

he died as a desparate clingy man to the guy that looked like his first crush. he didnt get to clear anything up with Noah. he got nothing. I am impressed, honestly.

WAIT HE'S NOT DEAD

??? MAYBE IM CONFUSED

FOOOD

THIS BETTER NOT BE HIS DYING WORDS 

GODDAMN IT 

tragic until the end i guess. side couples are always such great angst food 

MANNN maybe the secretary is lying?? to manipulate HMM

ig im finishing this dumpster fire. maybe some ship crumbs will come up pff

OH MAN

THIS IS SHIP FOOD [he’s wearing a wig bc of the swap thing]

Okay so. the secretary told the sister that he died. but we didnt see it. and she also didnt tell her that they're disguising as each other even tho that got revealed through the incident. if she's hiding that, maybe the death is a lie, since we didnt actually see it??? im clinging to crumbs here

ROASTED

but also jesus, amon is on a killing spree

WOAH

not sure if they're playing a recording or he's hallucinating or whats happening bc dohye is clearly dead but. angst good

SHE HUNG HIS BROTHER (Amon) IN FRONT OF HIM.

"if you give your heart to someone, that's how they'll end up" WHAT THE FUCK

trauma WOO 

well this would be a great setup for DOHYE IF HE WASNT DEAD

TRUEEE... I FORGOT SHE KINDA DID LOOK LIKE HIS MOM BUT YOU DONT GOTTA COMMIT TO IT OH GOD WHY IS THIS SUCH A DUMPSTER FIRE

THE GOOD THING ABOTU THIS DEVELOPMENT IS THAT THEY'RE NOT FUCKING FOR ONCE which gives them the chance to actually be cute

but im still mad about Dohye >:(((

AMON LIVED???? WHAT

HOW

SIR

HOW DID YOU SURVIVE THAT

HOW DO YOU GET TO BE ALIvE BUT NOT DOHYE

lowkey hoping Dohye was just his weird look-alike from the sister’s clone arsenal or something. Dohye come back :((

WHY

WHY DOES HE ONLY GET A DREAM VISION

idc im not supernatural, this is Noah's mind and the person it thought of waking him up was Dohye >:T

i'm misinterpreting this out of SPITE

and they're fucking

sigh

No. stop. you're not cute. im angery about dohye >:(((

bonus is just pure porn, okay.

.

Still recommend the gay flashbacks and maybe part of the main story if you love yourself some tragic fucked up ships. I want a 2nd version of this manwha that’s just like,, “an innocent sin but every chapter not about dohye and noah is removed”...

I wish he could have seen him again.

Why did i get so invested in them, that wasn’t smart.