#there are a few more stars than i was expecting on the button. LOL

[nouveaumoon]

guess what finally shipped! there are just a few buttons left since i ordered less of those, so be sure to pick one up before they run out if you were interested! i will begin fulfilling orders the moment they arrive. thank you for your patience to everyone who has already bought some!

happy organ donor day! are you registered? here are some gifts now available to celebrate your life while you have it! (additionally, if etsy does not work for purchasing in your region, DM me and we can work something out!)

CHARM || BUTTON || GESTALT UPDATE

[streetlightyeri]

false god ; boone

“i know heaven’s a thing, i go there when you touch me.”

[aka, boone is good at using a camera for more than just storm chasing]

w.c: 3444

warnings: 18+ MDNI. smut (oral, piv, breath play? in the lightest sense of the word, bandana used as gag).

notes: no beta, not even proofread lol i just needed to post this, i'll come back and edit at a later time. this is a piece from my wip about boone for my twisters/zach bryan song fic series (scott's is in progress as well a part two for "oklahoma smokeshow" for tyler). this was supposed to be fluff, slice of life moment, idk what happened <3 and as always, the fmc has a name but no descriptors bc i cannot personally write in 2nd person

-

She surprised him while they were on a chase. She was going to be in the state for no more than a few hours - when he headed out tomorrow she would be too. But she was able to get the information of where the crew was staying from Dani with the promise she would keep her mouth shut about it. Dani must’ve talked Tyler into letting them crash at a nicer place for the night because instead of a motel that Rowan was sure would give her hives, she pulled up to a very respectable 3 star chain hotel. She made a mental note to buy that girl whatever her heart desired.

Rowan pulled her hood closer around her neck and her hat farther down onto her head. She locked her vehicle behind her, keeping her head down as she walked to the side entrance Dani propped open for her. Once she made it in, she kicked the rock out the door jam and made her way to the elevator.

Rowan tried to calm her nerves as the elevator rose to the 4th floor. Her heartbeat picked up once the doors opened. She followed the signs to room 435. It was a corner room. Now Rowan was certain Dani had roped everyone into the plan; otherwise, a room like this would’ve been a coin toss or a game of pulling straws to see who got it. Her face burned at the thought.

But nevertheless, she knocked on the door. Boone’s voice came from the other side. “Yeah?” He was expecting someone from the team to respond, but heard nothing. He called out again. Rowan knocked in response.

She heard shuffling before the sound of the lock clicking. When the door swung open, she looked up, met with the sight of her boyfriend dressed in the same clothes he must’ve been wearing that day: jeans, a wifebeater, and a bandana tied around his neck. She could see his camo button down discarded on the end of the bed and his hat on the nightstand. A smile grew across her face as the moment started to click for him. He grabbed her wrist and dragged her into the room, double checking no one was lurking in the hallway before shutting the door. He turned the lock again and also flipped the deadbolt now that she was here.

When he turned back to her, he nearly tackled her onto the floor, throwing her hat to some corner of the room. But he managed to get his bearings before they lost their balance. His lips found hers; she could feel his smile as he kissed her. He walked them to the bed, keeping his hand behind her head to absorb the impact as her knees bent and her back hit the mattress.

He paused to pull back and look at her again, making sure she was real. “Hi, baby.”

She let out a giggle. “Hi, Boone.”

He leaned down and kissed her again, but stopped when her hand came up and pushed his shoulder back slightly. He knit his brows when she patted the bed next to herself but complied. She sat up to be eye level with him. He couldn’t believe she was here; his hands found her hips, sliding up her sweatshirt to rub circles on her soft skin. She wasn’t any better; she was trying to find her words but the way he was looking at her with his big doe eyes, like she was the best thing he’d ever seen, was making her brain short circuit. A haste kiss from him jump started her again.

“I have a . . . gift, of sorts, for you.”

He raised his eyebrows, “Is you being here not it?”

Rowan felt her cheeks heating up, her hands dropping from playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. She stood up and walked to her duffle bag she discarded blindly when he tackled her. She reached in and brought out the small box she wrapped in a haste and walked back over to him, leveling him with a serious gaze. “No one can know about this. Absolutely no one.”

“What is it, baby?”

“Promise me you will never show anyone this. Ever. No matter what.”

“I promise.”

She sat back down and handed him the box. He made quick work with the paper, his jaw dropping when he saw the picture on the side of the box: a camcorder. Nothing fancy, absolutely no bells and whistles. But Boone always had a thing for cameras. He’d started messing around with them back when he was enrolled in community college, fresh out of high school, still trying to figure out what the hell he wanted to do with his life. There was nothing more exciting to him than getting the perfect shot.

“You know how hesitant I’ve been about, uh,” she cleared her throat, “filming. But I thought about it. With something like this, there’s no cloud it gets uploaded to, no internet required. Nothing anyone can hack. It’s not the best quality, but it was the best I could find that I was comfortable with.”

He dropped the box on the bed next to him and grabbed her head in his hands; they were so large his fingertips met at the back. “Rowan, baby, please tell me you know I am fine with never recording us? I don’t want you to feel pressured. I let go of that fantasy a while ago. If you’re not comfortable with it, then it isn’t hot anymore.”

She nodded through his grip. “I know.”

He kissed her again, letting go of her with a whoop of excitement before he opened the tape on the box with his pocket knife. He pulled out the recorder and inserted the SD card, flipping open the screen, taking a sweep of the room. He played around with the settings, adjusting it for the room’s lighting. He was so confident in his knowledge of the camera. In seconds he got it looking more like 720p instead of the 480p she saw when using it in the store.

He flipped the screen so he could see himself as he recorded. He introduced himself to his imaginary audience while Rowan rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his torso. He used his free hand to run a hand down her hair. He lowered the camera to capture her face for a second. “And this is my beautiful girlfriend.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “She is the reason I have this camera. I think she’s embarrassed, but don’t worry, I’ll get her used to showing her face.”

She pulled back and hit his shoulder with a laugh while he winked at the camera. He flipped the screen and turned to film her, catching the perfect angle where the setting sun cut through the curtains to leave a beam running across her face. “She loves me so much she surprised me. Can’t believe she kept this a secret.”

“I was so close to spilling! You kept texting me about how much you missed me! And I had to lie that I wasn’t in Oklahoma. I even had Dani working with me to cover it up. I would send photos from the view outside my apartment that I’d been saving up for her to show you. I was scared you’d get suspicious when I kept refusing to FaceTime.”

He laughed from behind the camera. “You are a terrible liar.”

She faked a gasp, “Take that back!”

He smirked, “I think I can think of a way to make it up to you.”

She pulled her legs to her chest and looked straight at the lens of the camera, “Well then, why don’t you show me?”

He deposited the camera on the nightstand, throwing his hat elsewhere to make sure he had enough space to get the entire bed in the frame. One he was certain they’d be visible, he tore his shirt off and made quick work of hers. He lifted her bridal style to put her correctly on the bed. He untied his bandana and tied it around her neck; he liked seeing her wear it. He hovered over her on his arms, his hair and gold chain dangling into her face. She felt her face and chest flush. No matter how many times they found themselves like this, Rowan always felt like Boone was admiring her like a precious stone.

He shifted his weight and used his right hand to run his thumb over her red cheek. “God you’re so beautiful, baby.”

He undid her bra and he moved to sit on his haunches, admiring her from above. Her chest rose and fell as his brown eyes raked over her entire frame, leaving her skin burning in their wake. His calloused hands ghosted over her waist so lightly, her body jerked from the tickling sensation. His two index fingers ran under the waistband of her jean shorts; his eyes flickered up to her for permission. She kept her eyes stilled on him as she nodded. His eyes flickered over to the camera; he could see her side angle perfectly, surrounded by plush sheets while he hung over her.

“Is the camera okay?”

She nodded again, not looking at it.

“Need words, baby.”

She opened her mouth but hesitated. In seconds, he had the camera in his hand, about to snap the screen shut and stop the recording. Her hand reached up and wrapped around his wrist. “It’s okay, Boone.”

He shook his head. “No. You’re tense. We’re not doing it if you’re not 100% with it.”

She tightened her grip on his wrist when he tried to turn it off again. “I am. I promise. If you’re okay, I am. I’ll get used to it.”

He hesitated. He didn’t want her doing this for him.

“If I wasn’t comfortable with it, I wouldn’t have bought the camera.”

“You’re allowed to change your mind, no matter who bought the camera.”

She moved to intertwine her fingers with his, bringing his knuckles down to kiss them. “I’ll tell you if I change my mind.”

He pursed his lips, “Promise?”

She smiled up at him, “Promise.”

She helped him set up his perfect angle again before he rided her of her shorts and underwear. His hands ran up and down her side, taking count of every inch of skin. He rememorized every mole and freckle. His lips found hers again, making his way slowly down her neck, shoulder, the valley of her breasts while his finger twisted at her nipples. She felt him smirk against her skin when she gasped, hands reaching out to grip the sheets. He left bites on the smooth skin of her stomach, a place he was often drawn to. A place he could mark that no one would know.

When he made it between her thighs, he groaned. “There’s my girl.”

Rowan bit her bottom lip to stifle the sound that brought out of her.

Boone’s hands tightened on her hips; she could feel each finger digging into her skin. He pressed sloppy, wet kisses to the inside of her thighs. Her toes curled in anticipation, legs locking to try and prevent them from tightening around his head. Not that he would’ve cared. He had spent weeks warming her up to the idea of sitting on his face so he could finally feast like he wanted. She would never forget the way he locked his muscular arms around her thighs to keep her core connected with his mouth while he ate her out like his life depended on it, like he wasn’t destroying her for any other man ever. 

When he finally connected his mouth to her cunt, he moaned into her, making a shiver run up her entire body as her hands moved to grip his hair. Her fingers twisted in his locks, making him let out another satisfied noise. His tongue reached out to lap at her core, taking in the sweet release and relishing in the taste. One hand moved to splay across her stomach, lightly opening and closing to keep her down and to scratch at her skin comfortingly; the other moved to leave bruises of his finger prints on her thighs before one finger, then two, then three pushed themselves into her. Her rapid breaths and whines filled the room as her hips jerked from the way he ate. While his fingers curled into the spot he knew made her see stars, his tongue circled her clit with unrelenting determination.

He glanced up at her, seeing her head thrown back with eyes screwed closed as he increased his pace. He knew he was doing good when he felt her body tensing up below him, her legs beginning to shake. She gave a hard tug on his hair when he pulled away and let out a stream of cold breath onto her clit before attaching his hot mouth back to it. She came with a cry of his name, tensing around him as her blood seemed to run through white hot fire. Her thighs clamped around his head, spurring him on to continue his feast as he rode her through her high. He managed to get his right hand free and bring it up to her mouth, tapping her lips which she opened without question. He shoved them in, so long he almost triggered her gag reflex. She instantly closed around them, sucking herself off of him while effectively silencing her from their neighbor’s ears. He used his thumb and pinky to grip her chin and turn her face to the camera. She whimpered when she saw how much of a mess she was, how much of a submissive puddle he turned her into without trying. The visual spurred her into another orgasm. When she finally came back to Earth, she let her legs go limp and released her boyfriend, much to his dismay.

He traced his lips back up to hers, pushing into her mouth. When he released their kiss, he left small pecks on her jaw, coming to her ear, “My favorite meal. Now my favorite show.”

She grabbed his jaw and brought him back to her lips where he lost himself for an unknown amount of time. He was achingly hard. Rowan ran her hand down his shoulders, past the scar on his ribs from when he got hit by a tree branch in the field, down his abs that he gained from always running from tornadoes, to run her hand over his length. She would never get used to it; he was the biggest she’d ever had, and he knew how to use it. He could bring her to tears without being fully seated in her. He had to coach her into taking deep breaths the first time they’d done it because she was so tense he couldn’t push in. Now, they knew the drill.

She pulled his belt off with one hand and discarded it somewhere in the room before popping his button. He discarded his pants and underwear off the bed, once again on his haunches, pumping himself in his right hand. Her hair was a messy halo around her, her skin shiny with sweat.

He lifted her legs to hang over his thighs, leaving her wide open for him to push into her without pain. His eyes flickered to the camera before coming back to hers; she nodded. He picked the camera up, and fixed the angle to where it was a clear shot of him entering her. With every inch he gave, her whimpers grew louder. “Bite down on the bandana for me sweetheart.”

She nodded blindly, biting down on the cloth that smelled exactly like him, like the cologne he wore that made her nearly stumble when she first met him. Her senses were clouded from anything else in the world. All that existed was him. The camera was an extension of him, like it always was.

When he was fully seated in, he gave a few long in and out thrusts, letting her adjust to his size before putting the recorder in its spot. When she gave him the nod that he was okay to move, he lifted one of her legs to rest on his shoulder, pressing a kiss to her ankle where she had a tattoo of a tornado, courtesy of Lilly and an empty bottle of Jack.

He gripped her hip with his free hand before he began to hammer into her. The sound of skin slapping filled the room. Her noises were one of his favorite things about sex with her, but he really did not need the neighbors knowing that he hadn’t even given her 30 minutes before they went at it; the bandana was not cutting it. He gathered up the material that was still hanging out her mouth and shoved it in. He gave a short “sorry” when he heard her gag but he wasn’t sure she heard it because he gave a very hard thrust at the same time that caused her eyes to roll backwards. He placed his hand over her mouth as well to keep her silent, her leg pressed against her chest.

Her hands dug crescents into his biceps and left long marks down his back. He had absolutely no complaints. If he could find a way to make the feel of him buried in her cunt permanent, he would. Boone grunted in her ear when she squeezed around him, “Be good, honey.” He felt her moan vibrate through his hand. 

She was getting close, he could feel it. She kept lifting her hips in a way to both escape the pleasure but also find new angles for him to hit in hopes it would be what set her off. He snaked his hand off her hip and used his rough thumb to circle her clit. In seconds, he sent her over the edge. She tensed so hard around him he couldn’t thrust her through it. Her tightness sent him over the edge, his face buried in her hair while he was groaning her name paired with a whimper of overstimulation. When he finally pulled out, he got the camera again to film the dripping of his spend out her cunt. He reached a hand out and smeared his cum across her cunt. She jerked and whimpered, the feeling too much so soon after he finished her again. 

He turned the camera to her face as he gave her his cum covered fingers to suck on. She had a sleepy, not-fully-on-Earth smile plastered on her face. She stared at the lens, at the extension of Boone, “Hi, baby.”

He held the camera out with one arm while he moved to connect their lips again.

The camera ran out of battery just as Boone was setting it up to look into the shower, right after he got a shot of Rowan on her knees with her tongue out, covered in his release, before she swallowed and showed her empty tongue to the camera.

He cursed when the screen turned black, an alert to change SD cards coming up. Rowan laughed and closed it after turning it off, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the shower. “You’ll just have to remember this round.”

-

Her hair left a damp spot on the pillow beneath him, but he didn’t mind. She was half asleep in the nook he made for her between his shoulder and arm, her eyes closed as she inhaled the scent of his soap and shampoo. If his arm was asleep under her, he said nothing. He had changed the sheets with the ones from the closet while she searched through his bag and her own to find something to wear. She ultimately decided on a pair of sleep shorts she brought and one of his plain t-shirts that hung oversized on her. She had a fist resting on his chest and had her leg across his waist; he lightly scratched at it, a comforting motion to help lure her to sleep.

He adjusted his head to leave a kiss on the top of her head. “I love you, Rowan.”

She was too tired to make any words, so she gave him a hum that both acknowledged his words and returned the sentiment. She kissed the nearest part of him she could before settling back into her cocoon. He pulled the blankets up closer to her chin.

[joels-shitty-puns]

The Key to Your Heart - Track 1

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably.

Word Count: 1.9K

Series List: Here!

Thank you for checking it out :) let me know what you think. I made this probably more wordy and personal than I should've... OOF.

The clock was nearing 4 AM when, with a sniffle, you closed the app you were on and clicked the power button on your phone. A single tear ran down your face as you rolled on your side and hoped that maybe in your dreams you could experience the love you craved so desperately. For the past few hours, and every night you didn't have work in the morning, or had free time before bed, you would read fanfiction. You knew people had a lot of poor opinions about fanfic, but the best thing about them is that unlike other stories, you were in these. You could imagine it was you in the story spending time with your favorite characters.

The worst part of fanfiction, however… is when you realize it isn't real and won't ever happen. Sure, you can imagine it, and you can feel the emotions and even give yourself pleasure at the thoughts, but when it wears off, you realize that it's just you. You're alone, and not your mind, nor your hands, can give you what you truly want. What you need.

You aren't so dumb or delusional as to think it's real, or to think you have a chance. If your own mind didn't tell you that enough, your family and friends would remind you plenty. At the mention of your crush, you'd get comments that had a playfulness, or childlike connotation at the idea of you crushing on someone famous. If not that, you'd get pity, or told you should put yourself out there and find someone you actually have a chance with… as if you chose to have these feelings. Why would you choose to fall in love with someone you have no chance with?

For a while, you could pretend it was just a crush and that you couldn't be in love with someone you've never met. But ultimately you accepted that it wasn't true. This isn't the first time, and you're sure it won't be the last. With the previous crush lasting several years, you knew you'd just have to wait it out. 

This time around, the crush was on Pedro Pascal. Current heartthrob of the world, starring in some of the most popular franchises of the time. If people didn't know his name, they certainly knew a character of his; unless they lived under a rock. 

With this information in the back of your mind, the fact that everyone knew him and everyone loved him and he could have anyone he wanted, you sighed, hoping it would finally get through your head, and rolled over to your other side. Unable to sleep, you pulled out your journal to write down your feelings before eventually drifting off, pen in hand.

Letting out a groan, you awoke too few hours later to your dog Skipper crying in your face. "Gotta pee, buddy? Alright.." You climbed out of bed and he spun in a circle before galloping through the house towards the patio door. Humming a song you don't yet know, you sit by the door and think about what you wrote the night before. It wasn't uncommon for you to write songs, and you found it comforting to play instruments and sing your feelings out into the lyrics. Although you often recorded and purchased the copyrights to your music, you never posted it.  Maybe someday…you always told yourself, pondering with the idea of some extra money. 

After letting the dog in, you sat at the piano with last night's journal and wrote a song which spilled your feelings for Pedro. You recorded it and went about your day, but it kept nagging you. Finally, after another sleepless night, you posted it onto some music streaming websites. Using a stage name of just your first nickname, you added the song, which you titled "Imaginary Love." It never mentions Pedro by name, only talking of the strong feelings you have for someone famous that you'll never be with. 

Once that was out of the way, you didn't check your accounts for several days. Eventually, however, you began receiving emails. Radio stations wanted to play your song, record companies wanted to sign you, they wanted an album. Your head swirled, and you agreed to put out an album with other songs you've written, still maintaining your stage identity. I'll just be like Hannah Montana, you thought, with a laugh of disbelief. 

About a month later, you and your music were still a mystery to people. People loved your song. People related to it. But of course, there were critics. Negative impressions spurred about you being childish, immature, naive, and silly. Others just wanted to know the gossip. Who were you? Where did you come from? And WHO were you singing about?!

Trying to ignore the chatter, you noticed a new interview of Pedro being posted, as advertisement for his newest film. Finally something to look forward to and get your mind off of this! Flicking on your television, you broadcast the interview of Pedro from your cell phone. Your heart skipped as you looked at him, his messy brown curls falling near his ears that held his large black framed glasses. His brown eyes twinkled as the interviewer talked to him about his work.

Eventually they broke into more casual conversation, discussing current favorite movies, what he last saw in theaters, what he's binge-watching, last concert he saw, and finally… the current song he can't stop listening to. 

"Oh, man… I can't stop listening to "Imaginary Love," he answered without hesitation, hand on his heart.

Your stomach lurched. Your heart stopped. You forgot how to breathe. What. The. Fuck. Shit shit shit shit shit. This can't. Be real. You rewound the video. This HAS to be a dream. But it wasn't. "Imaginary Love," he said. Oh. Crap. You replayed it several more times, but it didn't make it more real. The interviewer replied "oh… here we go. The song everyone is talking about! I am curious though, what are your thoughts on it? Who do you think it's about?" Pedro's smile faltered a bit at the man's tone, but he remained his usual genuine, sincere self when he answered. "I… I'm also curious about who she is and who the song is about, but I think that ultimately it's up to her whether she decides to reveal that. I think we can all relate to the pain of love, especially unrequited, and I think it's brave of her to share that level of open vulnerability with the world. I can't expect her to share more than what she already has."

Your heart fluttered.

Yet the interviewer continued. "Don't you think it's a little… I dunno… naive? I mean, you get it, you're in show business. The average kid really doesn't have a chance, and even more so, isn't it a little… creepy? The way she's put this guy on a pedestal? Claims she's in love with a man she doesn't even know?"

Pedro's fingers twitched around the base of the microphone, his eyebrows furrowed, and he slowly nodded while pondering his response. I can't watch this anymore.. His pause felt like a lifetime, and you couldn't handle the tension. The interviewer was an ass, but his words were nothing new. He was probably right... You are creepy and naive. You reached for the remote to turn off the television. It had only been a few seconds, but you couldn't bear the potential heartbreak that you knew would come. This is exactly why you haven't revealed yourself or the subject of your lyrics.

Pedro cleared his throat before speaking. "You're right… I am in show business and I get it. I get that in order to get what you truly want in life, we all seem a bit naive. I've spent my life trying to make it as an actor, sometimes struggling if it hadn't been for the help of my friends. I was naive, and I suppose a bit delusional. Obviously this is a bit different though. Unlike jobs, we can't choose who we love. I think we've all had celebrity crushes at some point in our lives."

Your breath was caught in your throat and you could feel tears welling up in your eyes. He doesn't even know you, and he's somehow able to reach into your lyrics to understand exactly how you feel without the judgment or pity you often feel from those who know you personally. And yet… the asshole interviewer kept on. Seriously dude… how long are you going to drag this on? Talk to Pedro about his achievements. Quit ranting. The interview has completely gone off the rails. "Okay.. I gotta ask though.." Ugh what now??! He continued, "this girl is a fan. The only thing she knows is what's made public. She's keeping her identity hidden but doesn’t seem to wonder what her so-called “love” is hiding from the world. Would you, as a celebrity, genuinely consider someone like her, a fan, if she came out and said the song was about you? I mean, would any of you out there? We're not just talking about a normal person, or even a slight fan. We're talking write-a-song-about-him level obsessed."

Pedro answered without hesitation. "Sure I would consider it. You can already feel her emotional vulnerability and passion. I think she's deserving of happiness just like anyone." If only you knew.. It is you, Pedro.. But your negative thoughts filled your consciousness. Like he'd want you.. he's almost twice your age.. look at yourself. He can have anyone he wants. He'd never actually choose you. Look at your blemishes. Your big stomach, flab, and stretch marks. Nobody has ever wanted you. You've never even been kissed, you fool. A grown adult.

You frowned and finished watching the interview, swept away in your self-hatred. You slunk onto the floor, cuddling your dog, seeking the only comfort you're able to receive. This is why I prefer animals, you think. They love you no matter what you look like or who you are.

A few days later, the events of Pedro's interview went viral, spurring both negative and positive responses.

"Pedro Pascal Defends Unknown Artist"

"Mandalorian Actor Slams Interviewer"

"Watch: Pedro Pascal Interview Gets Heated"

The headlines get more and more dramatic, acting as if fist fights broke out or a gun battle ensued. It was all pretty tame. A simple conversation of differing opinions. However… you still couldn't help but feel guilty that he put his own reputation on the line for you in a way. He doesn't even know you. What was in this for him, that he felt the need to defend you?

It was at this moment that you decided to log into Instagram from your stage artist profile. Hopping into the message section, you typed out Pedro Pascal and clicked his profile, writing out a message. "Hi Mr. Pascal! I recently watched your interview and I can't begin to express my gratitude towards you. I feel terribly guilty that this is beginning to weigh on your own image, but I would like to say thank you from the bottom of my heart. Thank you for your defense, thank you for your support of my music, but most importantly, thank you for seeing my lyrics as they were meant to be… from my heart. Thank you for your kindness."

You tapped send and waited with bated breath. After ten minutes of staring at the screen, you decided you needed a break from the internet, dropped your phone, and went for a walk with Skipper.

Meanwhile, from the couch at home, your phone lit up with a notification.

Instagram

Pedro Pascal (pascalispunk): replied to your message

Thanks for reading!! Interested in track 2? Read it here!

[sofiaaaaaaaa03]

Rotation of the Sun

Title: Rotation of the Sun

Pairing: Din Djarin x gn foundling reader (Platonic)

World Count: 1,459

Rating: PG

Note: HI I AM RUSTY BC I HAVEN'T WRITTEN IN AWHILE. This is for new years! But I had this idea and wanted to roll with it. Pretend that fireworks don't exist in star wars bc I forgot to check if they're canon or not lol. Anyway, enjoy and happy late new years!!!

"Grogu, no. Put that down.”

Grogu quickly swerved his body so that his back faced you, disgruntled at your words. You heaved a low sigh at the little thing as you kept a watchful eye at the… thing he was holding. You didn’t really know what it was exactly, but it reminded you of the snow mice that’d sneak into the Razor Crest every time Din had a job to tend to in Scipio. 

You leaned over, trying to grab the little creature from Grogu. “C’mon, give it up Grogu.”

Again, you reached for the creature, but Grogu’s exclamations of dejection made you gasp at his demeanor. “I hope you’re just holding it hostage for fun because there is no way you’re able to fit that thing into your mouth.” 

As you spoke, you settled yourself onto the open ramp of the Razor Crest, lifting your knees closer to your body and resting your arms onto them. Grogu stood outside of the ship, exposed to the nature surrounding them. The group had found themselves on a planet almost at the edge of the galaxy. A trip that was made by very few people. You were surprised to find out that that was where the clan was headed, considering the trip. Din claimed that the price of the bounty he was pursuing would make the trip worth it.

When he explained this, along the way when it was just the two of you in the hull of the Razor Crest as Grogu slept in the back, you made a comment that he’d sounded as though he’d been to the planet before. To which he nodded, pressing a few buttons on the dashboard before turning his back to you. You watched him as he worked on reconfiguring the navigation system. 

He spoke knowing that you were waiting for him to elaborate. “I’d been once before for a job. But it was many years ago.”

“What’s it like?”

Din’s back still faced yours. “The planet is prosperous with many species, but its civilization is not very advanced like the rest of the galaxy. Most of them haven’t even gone off world.”

“Really?” To which Din hums at. You pause for a moment to ponder your next question. “What’s it look like?”

“Where we are going, it will look a lot like Endor.” Finally, Din turned back to the controls and the conversation was left at that. 

And there you were at this moment, sitting at the ramp of the ship watching Grogu under the shades from the trees that surrounded you. While the two were waiting for Din to return with his bounty, you explored and enjoyed the open space that Din landed in. The lush, forest thrived with more green and species than you’d thought possible. Though Grogu much preferred to try and eat them, rather than observe like you liked to. But you couldn’t help but gawk at them. What piqued your curiosity was the species you’d seen, unrecognizable and yet shared homogenic qualities with creatures you’d seen in different planets. How was it that these creatures never explored space, and yet you could only be reminded of creatures you’d seen in other places? Not only that, but were there other environmental conditions on this planet since Din made it sound as though there were others? 

Din had no answer for you when he’d finally returned with his bounty, many hours after he’d left. He must have not expected for you to be filled with these questions of the creatures, or the forests, or the planet itself as you prodded him with questions about other habitats this planet had. Din stumbled as he climbed onto the ship and adjusted his hold on the unconscious bounty he was carrying in a fireman’s lift. All the while a string of questions came from your mouth as you bombarded the Mandalorian with questions and comments about the planet’s environment.

THUNK

“That’s enough questions y/n.” Beside Din’s feet the unconscious bounty groaned at the impact. “I have a lot to do before we depart.”

“Sorry.” You spoke with a sheepish smile on your face. Din made no other comment but shook his head in a way that let you know he was not upset with you before collecting the bounty once more. You watched him disappear further into the ship. No doubt to place the bounty in a Carbon freezing chamber in the lower levels of the Crest. 

It was late at night, you’d only now realized as you settled back onto the ramp of the crest and watched the scenery around. You made sure to keep watch of Grogu as he ventured around. But he was without the mouse. Which concerned you. But what else was there to do other than hope the best for the little devil if he ended up getting a stomach ache.

Well… you could also enjoy what was around you. 

So you decided to sit at the ramp for some time, eyes closed and listening to the world around you. You felt at ease, allowing your muscles to relax with each breath you took. Eventually Grogu had had enough of exploring and settled into your arms to rest. 

You sat there for some time. Until you heard a noise. Opening your eyes, you paused for a moment to listen again with a frown on your lips. You could make out what sounded like a missile blasting to the sky. Your heart dropped at the sound, standing up immediately and looking all around to see where the noise came from. The noise stopped and a loud boom made you jolt, eyes immediately to the sky at a blast of light illuminating the surrounding area. You watched in agitation as the light dispersed and thousands of shards of light fell from it. 

Your first thought as you watched this scene was of a battle. And these fears were reestablished at the sound of another missile. 

“Din!” You stumbled back, eyes glued to another blast of light whose noise made your ears ring. You quickly turned, ready to run for the Mandalorian, and almost crashed into his beskar breast plate. The Mandalorian gripped onto your forearms to stabilize you. Din showed no sign of fear toward the blasts. For a moment you wondered if he had bumped his head to make him not respond correctly. 

Din must have seen the alarm written all over your face as you looked up at him, desperate to see what they would do. Grogu stirring in your arms and when he reached out for Din the mandalorian slowly took the little thing from your arms. 

“It’s alright. We’re not under attack.” With one arm Din led y/n down the ramp. Although you obliged, you walked with hesitance in each step. “Those lights aren’t weapons.”

“What else could they be if they’re not weapons?” You inquired, stepping over branches as the trees grew less condensed.

 Din said nothing to this, walking further until finally the two came to a clearing that overlooked a good section of the forest. He placed a hand to your back and pushed you a little further ahead of him, informing you that you look ahead. You obliged, attentive to the cluster of lights that sat past the forest. Another blast of light exploded above the lights and you realized that you stared at a city from a distance. 

“Those lights are called fireworks,” Din said, earning your attention. “Humans use them for celebrating events that are special to them.”

BANG. 

A firework.

“All of them?” 

“Not sure, but I’m sure a lot of them are. Grogu look.” Din pointed Grogu’s attention to another firework that flew into the sky until it bursted to an array of green shimmers. The two smiled at the little thing’s reaction as he elated with joy. 

“So how about now? Do you know what they’re celebrating?”

“I don’t know for sure, something to do with the planet’s rotation around the sun.”

BANG.

Another firework shot to the sky. 

“That’s such a nice thing to celebrate.”

You watched with fascination, all doubt and anxieties melted away after the explanation Din had given you. You watched beside the Mandalorian and his other foundling, illuminated in an array of colors as light blasted into the night sky. You liked that the cycle of the planet was worth celebrating to the people who lived here. In all your life, it seemed so mundane. Another year of surviving. To them, it seemed otherwise. It was something that brought joy. A joy that worked into the sky in a blast of light. 

The Mandalorian and his foundlings watched the lights from their place in the world. 

“I like this planet.”

[marshallpupfan]

Marshall Merchandise Update!

Ha ha... Walmart made a liar out of me. I was there not even a week or two ago, and they had no Jungle Pups toys, whatsoever. I stopped in today, and look at what they're finally stocking on their shelves! The selection was quite small, however. They just had the Deluxe Elephant vehicle, the Marshall & Skye set, and the Chase & Tracker set. For the usual-sized vehicles, they only had Rubble's and no one else's.

You know, when the Mighty Movie toys slowly trickled in, I recall my stores only got Rubble at first, too. What's up with that? It's like they expect his merch to fly off shelves, so they always stock it first. I wonder how true that is...?

The "Deluxe Elephant Vehicle" is certainly the star attraction this time around. Unless I'm mistaken, Marshall's the only one to get one of these larger vehicles, so way to go, spotted one! To be honest, outside of Tracker, I'd say he might've had the second-biggest presence in Jungle Pups, which after season 9, I was very glad to see.

...Which makes it all the more a shame that Nickelodeon USA shoved all of the episodes out in less than a week here. I really wish they'd taken their time with this subseries. :(

In any case, this thing's trunk is supposed to launch plastic water balls (three are included), which is pretty neat. You can place the unused ones in that tube on top, and I believe you can press a button somewhere to release a little latch to have the next water ball roll into place to get launched. There's also a container on the back where you can store them. The driver's seat has the usual clip so the Marshall figurine won't fall out, though I sometimes dread using those, as I'm always afraid it might scratch the paint on the figurine. 😅

Overall, I'd say it's pretty cool! Hopefully the kids will like it, too.

Next, the "Marshall, Skye & Elephant" set. As I mentioned before, there's another set just like this, except it has Chase, Tracker and a tiger. Admittedly, I wish they'd included Chase and Marshall together. Skye fans would've been happy with Tracker, right? lol

Similar to the vehicle above, the elephant also launches a projectile, although this one's more of a splat of water. Also, I compared the two figurines of Marshall, and they're virtually identical... save for his pup pack being yellow and there's less silver paint. They didn't always used to do that, but I think, ever since the pandemic, they've been cutting costs by just using the same mold and painting them a little differently. I'm not sure how to feel about that. 😅

That's it for the Jungle Pups toys for now. Marshall also has a smaller, more traditionally-sized vehicle, but my Walmart didn't get any in yet. Naturally, I hope to add that at some point... and any mini-figurines, plush dolls and/or True Metals, if they end up making any. Currently, I've no idea if those are coming or not. No doubt the Jungle Pups line of merchandise won't be as big as what came before it.

But while this is all I have to show of Jungle Pups... I've got one more item recently that I'm especially happy to finally own!

Behold! A Christmas ornament of Marshall's hat! As some of you might remember, or if you recall the Daily Marshall Pic I posted last Christmas (click here to see it again, as I hand-drew the strand and animated the lights myself and I'm still rather proud of it), the TV series actually featured this ornament in one of its episodes! Season 7's "Pups Save a Bah-Humdinger", to be precise (which aired back in 2020). They made some of them into actual ornament soon after, and I've been trying to get a hold of one for a few years now.

...However, they only ever showed up on Amazon, and they only sold Marshall's ornament in a set with Chase and Skye's ornaments (pic below). I kept hoping they'd sell them separately, so I waited and waited for them to show up either in stores or on Ebay. Strangely, no such luck. The only option was Amazon.

However, over time, the price started to drop more and more. They started around $23, and they recently dropped to around $12. I figured why not finally go for it, especially since a relative of mine was able to get me free shipping through her Prime membership. I wasn't sure if I was going to get the one I was looking for, as a review stated that when they bought the set, the only got one. Fortunately, they sent me all three, so that made me happy.

...Except they used bubble wrap to ship them, and Marshall's ornament arrived broken. The part on top, with the yellow ball and mistletoe (?), had snapped off, due to it being rather thin and all. Still, a little super glue fixed it right up, so it's practically good as new. It's disappointing that happened, but hey, I'm glad I finally have it. :)

And that's all for now! Geez, I didn't mean to type so much in this post. I'm a bit long-winded, huh? Ha, I guess I don't know the meaning of the word "brevity". To wrap things up, hopefully my stores will get the other vehicles in soon enough, and anything else of Jungle Pups that's yet to come. I'll let you all know what I find!

[booklr-nova]

UGLY LOVE

Book Review

UGLY LOVE BY COLLEEN HOOVER

HOLY CRAP ON A CRACKER!!!! MY HEART IS SO PERFECTLY BROKEN! I DON'T THINK I TOOK A BREATH THE WHOLE TIME I READ THIS BOOK! WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME COLLEEN HOOVER!!! I HATE YOU BUT I LOVE YOU! YOU RUINED ME AND I CAN'T THANK YOU ENOUGH!

IF YOU CAN'T GUESS IT BY MY NON-STOP CAPS THEN I DON'T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO DO THAN SCREAM "I LOVED THIS BOOK!!!!"

WOW JUST WOW! I DON'T KNOW HOW OR WHEN I'LL GET OVER THIS BOOK HANGOVER.

Ugly Love was nothing like I expected it to be. I excepted it too be like a 50 Shades of Grey fan fiction with just a butt ton of thrown together steamy scenes... No, it wasn't it was so much more. I knew I was going to like Miles (because he sounded so hot), but I had no idea that I was going to love him. That he was going to have an actual back story... That he was going to be actually interesting in a realistic way... I had no idea he was going to break my heart.

All that being said I have a few bookish confessions to make before I really get into the review, I choose to read this book 1) because I heard it was becoming a movie and if there's anything I love nearly as much as reading it's seeing movies 2) because this is who they have playing Mil

and 3) I also need to admit that I didn't get what was so appealing about this book that it was actually going to become a movie... I get it now. I get all the hype and talk surrounding this book. I have NEVER, EVER, EVER cried so hard in a book. That's the very last thing I thought this book was going to make me do.

The characters in this book felt so real. Tate was naive and normally that would make me want to punch a B, in her case it made me love her. Unlike most leading ladies she isn't overly sassy, or has incredible lol rebuttals, she was realistic. Her brother Corbin, OMG CORBIN, I loved every single thing about him. He has to be one of my favorite sub characters ever. He was what I imagined a brother would be and even with him not being a constant character just his presence had me. Then there's Miles and he is hands-down the star of this book. The moment you meet him you hate him. He is a mysterious mess and I thought he was going to annoy me fast. He won me over once they started going into his back story. The further they went into it the more I could feel what was coming... Yes, I knew where this story was going and what was going to happen but in no way, shape, or form was I actually prepared for it. I was a blubbering weeping ball of emotions.

The switch between time and POVs was done flawlessly and revealed the perfect information at the perfect time to keep you hooked and wanting more. Colleen set up this story so at first you would only like Miles because of his looks (which I've already made clear I was guilty of) ...

"His shirt isn't buttoned. I'm staring at his stomach. Oh, my word he has the V. Those beautiful indentations on men that run the length of their outer abdominal muscles, disappearing beneath their jeans as if the indentations are pointing to a secret bull's-eye."

And yes, he is a looker, but by the end I could have cared less about what he looked like. He could have worn a bag over his head for the last half of the book and my heart would have still been his. The relationship between Tate and Miles is like nothing I have read before. It was something else that really surprised me about this book. Saying it was complicated would be an understatement. I thought that the steamy scenes were going to take up most of this book, but it didn't... Yeah that's something that would normally make me rank a book lower, but the scenes were so well written and again realistic. They were well placed and well thought out. Just enough to make this book not "too much" which is what had me falling hard for this read way harder than I anticipated. The scenes are hot though like dump a bucket of water on your head hot. Miles and Tate's conversations roll so smoothly and the moments between them are so; I don't even know a word for them, they're just perfect (that word really doesn't do justice). Not only is he romantic but he made average things so hot.

Orange juice is hot, rugs are hot, scrubs are hot, and curtains are so so hot. whoosh.

Honestly though the scenes that turned out to be my favorite were just "average scenes", like when they all go and visit Tate and Corbin's family for Thanksgiving. That whole section had to of been my favorite. I loved how I thought this story was going to be Tate's but turned out to be Miles'. I love how I thought this book was going to be a light sexy read but turned out to be a heartbreaking love story. I just loved how everything came together while falling apart... Because when all Miles story is finally shown and is laid out in its fullest, I was basically like this...

I want to rant and rave even more about this book, but this is something you really need to read and experience for yourself. Ugly Love might just be the biggest surprise read I've had all year. I can't express enough how impressive the characters, plot, and play out of this story are.

I didn't think that this book was going to be so hard on me... And yes,

it hurt. And yes, it was a total sobbing fest, but that ending... Good golly miss molly. That ending was perfection. I don't know if I can ever forgive Colleen Hoover for what she did to me, but God dang it I love her so much for it. I didn't see this coming, and I've never been so happy to be emotionally slapped in the face like I was reading this.

[phantomdecibel]

Thank you so much <3

Personal answers aren't for anon, unfortunately :/

I think that I'm bothering a few people, both on here and irl, who are too nice to tell me that I'm annoying them. Because irl I see their expressions when they think I'm not looking. It doesn't seem like I'm wanted around.

And on here, well... I don't know, it seems like I'm troubling people every time I go say hi, or @ them in something, stuff like that. They have their own lives and I'm just, well, here

Sorry if it's a lot

-🌺

Aw shit :(

I get that – feeling unwanted can really make you feel awful and mess you up. It can be good to keep in mind that the only way to know what they’re thinking is to ask (which yeah, that’s terrifying haha). Sure, you can’t know if they’re thinking anything good about you, but you also can’t know if they’re thinking anything bad! Unfortunately there is always the risk that someone we adore doesn’t quite feel the same (I mean this platonically if that’s not obvious lol), but there could also be a million reasons why they’re making faces!

They could be working themselves really hard outside of when they see you, and are exhausted, but don’t want to bother you, so they try and smile and act like nothings wrong, until they think you can’t see them, because they don’t want to worry you, or bring down the mood.

It could be that they’ve got work or school or a sport they don’t want to do or they’re going to visit that one family member who always pushes their buttons whenever they see them after they’re done hanging out with you, and they’re thinking about that, and when they’re not talking to someone who makes them smile, it really distracts them and they make a face

Maybe that’s just their face, when they’re not really making any expression it looks like they’re frowning, or annoyed, so they always try to smile whenever someone’s looking. There’s a thousand different maybes

And here on tumblr – everyone has their own writing style, you can’t see expressions, etc etc. If you’re worried you’re bothering someone, send them an anon asking if they mind being @ ed or answering asks. I’m positive that the people you talk to care a great deal about you, and absolutely don’t mind you interacting with them :], we’re all just kinda hanging around

People can be exhausting, and terrifying, and confusing, but don’t give up on them, or yourself. Relationships of any kind take work and effort, even with the people you click with. You didn’t say you were going to and you didn’t ask for advice, so sorry if this a a bit unsolicited, but from personal experience, don’t try and pull away from them (unless you don’t like them or the relationship is toxic). If they’re still hanging out with you then they probably do still like and care about you, plus, there might be comfort in loneliness, but it also hurts more than you ever expect. It really is terrifying, but communication can go a long way, even if it’s just asking them if they’re in the mood to talk, or listen to you talk, or if they’d prefer to just hang out in silence

And most importantly – we are human. We are here to annoy and bug our friends and family. Everyone hates to hear it, but we are here to be, at least somewhat of a burden. That is what friendship is; to hold and to be held up by others. Everyone wants to be there for the people we love but never let them do the same – but that’s not how a good, healthy relationship works. It is a mutual give and take, it works both ways.

Being a burden or annoying at times does not make us any less loved. It is not a bad thing. We, as humans, are meant to be held up by those who love us. We are meant to have a shoulder to cry on. We are not perfect, and we are loved regardless

Even if it doesn’t feel like it you are wanted. And as you grow and live, people will leave, and people will stay, and you will find new people to want you

And one day, you will laugh, and you will stare up at the stars and see that they are never alone, no matter how far apart they are, just like you. And you will smile, and you will call someone you love, and you will be wanted.

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

Tonight I watched Star Wars….

Oh, yeah, look. I know the young folks call it “A New Hope” or “Episode IV”, but when I was growing up the first movie was “Star Wars”. If Lucas still expects me to accept his tinkering after I had LITERALLY seen the movies more than 100 times, then I’m never gonna use his rebranding.

Yes, really. 100 times.

I worked my ass off cutting brush growing up to earn enough money to buy the movies on VHS. This is back in the days they were rental priced. I think I paid $75 per movie and then went and bought the Han vest and Luke jacket the fan club was also selling.** When I got those three tapes I would sit there a day watching the movies like an endless loop, starting over as soon Jedi was over. And I actually kept count on a chalk board!

It’s soooo damn embarrassing now! I can’t get my head around it. i can’t even stand to watch two episodes of a tv show back to back now. But back then I was in love, a total fangirl..

Plus, yah know, no streaming, no internet even, no cable, a handful of VHS tapes because they cost so much still, and the nearest video rental places a couple shelves in Roses 10 miles away! If you wanted to watch something at home there weren’t many choices! LOL

But I did love it, a deep unconditional love. The visceral thrill I felt as a six year old sitting by my father rippled through my life for decades. I’d watch the movie and feel it again every single time. It was a delight that was filled with the warmth of something connecting with you in a way that if feels it was always there. It was like a part of identity manifest in a movie***. Empire was my favorite, but Star Wars would always have a special place in my heart.

Or so I thought.

**sigh**

I wish I could feel what I always used to feel. I felt nothing tonight. No warmth. No delight. Just a hollowness.

And then I went into a full MST3K monologue, mocking my once beloved movie. I wish someone had been here to laugh. I miss laughter. Saying something and someone else snickering or smiling or even totally losing it in gales of laughter…now that’s one of the most wonderful things in the world.

But I couldn’t even feel the humor. Just nothing.

I’m not sure it’s the fault of Star Wars. I’m not feeling anything much from things I have always loved. Nothing brings delight. Not anything I watch or read or listen to or eat or wear or do or…. I can’t blame any of it on what I loved failing me. They are unchanged (well, relatively…damn you Lucas) but something about me has.

I’ve had all my hope worn away. It’s too hard to be happy anymore. Surviving is all I feel like I do, but I’m doing it by habit and my core obstinance rather than caring.

You can’t really love if you can’t even care. I know I love these things, but it’s like knowing you are supposed to love someone while suffering from amnesia.

Funny though that I can still feel grief over all this. I mourn loving things. It scares me, this nothingness where I always felt so much.

** I wore that vest to school every single day for at least a year! It’s so beyond ridiculous!

I mean, I always seemed to have a “thing” I wore like a life line, connecting me to the “real” me. School was traumatic, and I was losing myself to to it. I’d gone from extravert to introvert, and told myself I was just acting to survive. But I felt it happening, the crippling insecurity, the fear of people, seeping into my bones. So I’d wear something. For it a few years it was my ankh (lost), then my amethyst amulet (lost), then my denim jacket with a daily rotation of buttons/ pins/badges/brooches, and finally my leather jacket (my beloved). But that year did I have to latch onto this utterly geeky bit of clothing???

Of course, no one ever seemed to guess it was from Star Wars. You see, the movies were super popular, but geeks were NOT. To admit you knew what it was was to admit you were a geek too. I was the school’s (a K-12 school at that!) only open geek. I even wrote my senior year term paper on comics….’cause fuck it, I’ll never be popular but I can at least be me!

Gah, I remember Coach G—— (how victorian of me!) , the health/PE/science teacher, used to stand behind me pulling at the loops on the back of the vest. He’d be talking away and suddenly I’d feel the yank, yank, yank he pulled me back and forth. Drove me nuts, but hey, at least he never groped me like I heard some girls had to deal with.

(WTF was with our school always having the coaches teach science when most of them had no interest or knowledge of the subject?? Tells you the value they put in science here, and why my father did a TON of volunteer work in those classes!

***TBH, I had this feeling that all the movies, books, comics, and tv shows I loved created a I kind of mosaic of me. To know what I loved was find out all the puzzle pieces you needed to see who I was. I desperately wanted to be understood. The things I liked would let me be found by someone.

Actually, wearing my geekiness out in the open was like advertising! I was hoping against hope someone would one day see a book I was reading or a t-shirt I was wearing and say “Hey! I like that too!!”

Which is a bit absurd. No two people see things the same way. The thing I liked my be perceived completely differently by someone else. WHY I like what I like is the actual key, and I’m the only one really that knows that.

Plus, hick town, teeny population, still in the anti-geek era…..yeah, I wasn’t exactly gonna get lucky. My parents did when they met, but to think I would too is like expecting to win the lottery because your parents did!

[purelyseguin]

𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 | 𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧 ★

Word count: 1.623

POV: reader

Warnings: smut, NSFW, mention on chocking, a little spanking, unprotected sex (scratch it and be safe)

Notes: Hey dear reader! This is my first imagine and english is not my mother tongue so forgive if you find some mistakes! Here's what you'll find up next: you and Tyler are a couple, he's playing against Boston Bruins and you want to have a special night of celebration. It's almost all smut and no plot lol.

✦˖ ° : ﹢ ˖ . • . ﹢˖✦✦˖ ° : ﹢ ˖ . • . ﹢˖✦✦˖ ° : ﹢ ˖ . • . ﹢˖✦✦˖ ° : ﹢ ˖ . • .

The horn sounded loudly making the crowd go wild. It was Tyler Seguin's third goal of the night. A Hat Trick against Boston. You screamed as loud as you could, cheering more than anyone else, after all, Tyler Seguin was your boyfriend and you were so happy for him. You knew how nervous he was about today's game. He wasn't doing very well in the last few games, he was just coming back from a serious injury and his game still wasn't the best. He had put in a lot of effort for this game especially against his old team, who had traded him without the slightest remorse. Tyler didn't have Boston grudges, but you did. At the time of the trade you were just friends, but you already took his pains for you and only you knew how being traded had hurt him. Mainly because you think it's all Boston's fault for his troublesome behavior.

At the end of the game you waited for him to go home together. You knew he probably had ideas about going out for drinks with the team, but you had some dirty ideas for the celebration and expected him to agree right away. As he walked out to the parking lot wearing a suit that made him delicious, he approached you smiling like a child, scooped you up in his arms and swung you around in the air. You laughed and held his shoulders, lowering your head to kiss his lips. He lowered you slowly, not missing the opportunity to rub your ass. He was crazy about your ass.

“My champion.” You say happily, stroking his wet hair from the shower. The Stars had won 6-3.

“My inspiration.” He says smiling and lowering his mouth to yours, kissing you hard. You laugh between the kiss and he pulls you closer, pressing your body to his. You moan and he slowly pulls away from you.

“Drinks with the guys?” He asks.

“I had a few more…private things in mind.” You smile suggestively, rubbing your body into him. Recognition flashes across his face and he gives you a dirty smile. At that time the rest of the team leaves, laughing out loud and joking among themselves. Jamie Benn stops and yells at Tyler:

“Hey Segs, are you coming? Hi Y/N.”

“Hello, Jamie. Good game today!”

“Change of plans, Chubbs. My girl needs me.” You slap his arm. It still embarrasses you that Tyler is so open with Jamie about his life. Including the sex part.

“Chained” Jamie shakes his head laughing at his friend. You know Tyler used to be a hooker before you guys got serious and Jamie still makes fun of him for his change in behavior. Tyler became almost domestic for the last year of your relationship.

You and Tyler drive home teasing each other all the time. You're craving and he's crazy with desire when you're like this. You open your button-down shirt exposing a red lace bra you had chosen for him earlier. Tyler groans at the sight and accelerates the car further. You smirk and unbuckle your seat belt, Tyler looks at you confused.

“Baby, what-” He breaks off when he realizes what you're doing.

You lower yourself into the seat, your ass up and your head in his crotch. You unzip his fly and take his dick out. It's half hard, but you feel it harden as you caress it. You bring it to your mouth, kissing the tip and then running your tongue all over the base. Tyler groans and grips the steering wheel hard and you feel his leg tense as he accelerates the car further.

One of Tyler's hands caresses your face and then pulls you hair hard. He knows how you like it when he does that. You stop teasing him and put his whole cock in your mouth, taking him deep down your throat, until you're choking. He holds your head there for a moment, you like it too and like it even more when he starts pumping his cock down your throat. You can feel how wet you are and all you want is for him to fuck you the way only he knows how.

You suck it up with all the talent you have. One hand working the rest that doesn't fit in your mouth and the other working the buttons on his shirt. When you get some access to his belly skin you scratch him mercilessly. He groans loudly and his hand reaches for your ass, slapping it hard. You gasp with fright and take his dick out of your mouth for a second and that's when you realize you’re already at the door.

You go up the stairs, leaving clothes as a trail. Shoes on the stairs. Shirt in the hallway. Pants at the bedroom door. Bra on the bathroom door. You stand in front of the shower and turn your head towards the door just in time to see him appear. His pants are open, no shirt and no shoes. You turn on the shower and get out of your panties, turn to him and see the hungry look he's giving your naked body. You step back and step into the shower, lifting a finger you beckon him to you. He takes off his pants and underwear, releasing your favorite part of his body. His cock is up, ready for action. Pre-semen shining at the top.

He grabs you and pins you to the wall. You lift one leg, fitting it to his hip, his cock brushing your pussy just the way you need to.

"You are a very bad girl." He says. One hand holding her chin and the other leaning against the wall. “What am I supposed to do with you, huh?” He's pondering. The hand now caressing his cheek. His mouth is inches from yours and you really want to kiss him.

“Fuck me.” You answer. His voice loud and clear. You rub yourself against him needing the contact and showing him that you're wet and ready for him.

He lunges for your mouth, hands pressing your body against his. Fingers digging and marking your skin. You grab his hair and pull him closer, but never close enough. Hot water is pouring down on you, your hair is getting soaked, but you don't care. All that matters is Tyler and the way he's kissing you. Until he is no more. He pulls away abruptly and takes her leg off his hip in the same way.

"Backwards. Now." he growls. Then grab your arms and turn you back to him. Your breasts crushed against the icy wall.

He slaps you hard on the ass and you groan. He gives one more and another. Strong and accurate slaps. You love it. He pulls you off the wall and pushes your body down, bringing you to your knees on a stone bench. You feel his cock at your entrance and then without warning he thrusts all at once, filling you completely. You moan, a little pain and a lot of pleasure. He starts moving frantically, in and out with force. He holds your arms back, fucking you hard. You have nowhere to hold on, so you just clench your fists and throw your head back, moaning his name. He loves when you cry out to him.

He lets go of one of your arms and you use it to lean against the wall in front of you. His free hand grips your breast, massaging and squeezing. He's fucking you so hot you forget even your own name. You love it. You love him. You find yourself saying this in the midst of delusions of pleasure. And he slows down until he's stopped inside you. His body completely glued to yours. A mixture of sweat and water clinging to your skin. You throw one arm back and grab his head and he fits it into the crook of his neck.

"Say it again." he asks, his voice thick and gasping for air.

"I love you. I love you." You say, eyes closed, chest begging for air, just feeling how he fills you deliciously.

"I love you. Never forget that." He says softly, kisses your neck and pulls himself out of you. He sits on the stone bench you were kneeling on. “Ride me.”

You don't need him to say it twice. You sit on it, bringing all of its fulfillment into you again. But he won't let you move. He buries his face into your chest, sucking on your nipples. He climbs kisses and hickeys all over your chest, up to your neck.

“Fuck me.” He says.

He drops his hands from your hips and you start to move. Back and forth. Up and down. One of his hands grabs your ass and squeezes. You ride him like never before. In fact, this is the dirtiest sex you've ever had and you were loving it.

You ride him until you reach your pleasure, screaming shamelessly. He comes right after you. You stop moving and just stand there, foreheads together and breathing hard. He looks up at you and smiles. An innocent smile, nothing like the dirty smile from earlier. His hand caresses your back.

"Are you okay?" It's cute how he always asks that after sex, even if it wasn't frantic sex like it is now. You just nod your head, still unable to speak. No strength to open your eyes.

You don't know how long you guys stay there, but one hour you get up and then he cleans you. You fall on the bed naked, his arms wrapping around your body. You are so exhausted that you fall asleep quickly.

✦˖ ° : ﹢ ˖ . • . ﹢˖✦✦˖ ° : ﹢ ˖ . • . ﹢˖✦✦˖ ° : ﹢ ˖ . • . ﹢˖✦✦˖ ° : ﹢ ˖ . • .

That's it! You made it to the end! I hope you enjoyed! If you got any requests or suggestions my ask box is open!

P.S.: in case you're wondering: this is how I imagined their bathroom

[bluemusickid]

Ok so I have been this fantasy about Chris Evans lately... the reader and he are friends and Chris has a girlfriend but she’s not satisfying him in the bedroom and you guys get a little tipsy one night and you end up making all his naughty dreams a reality... and there will be lots of dirty talk like, “she can’t make you feel like this... or does her mouth feel as good as my mouth does, etc”... I need you to work your smutty magic on this one! Could be for any of his characters too! Whatever you’d prefer! ❤️

As much as I abhor cheating........this is a sexy one. Thanks for this one, nonnie!!

Pairing:  Andy Barber x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, SMUUT, NSFW, minors DNI, drunk sex, dubcon (if you squint).

A/N: wHEW, this one was a toughie. I wanted to draw the line somewhere lol, but oh well. Hope you like it! MINORS PLS DNI. Not beta’ed, all mistakes are my own. You are responsible for your media consumption. Dividers by @firefly-graphics.

This is my entry to my own challenge (lol). The colour I have chosen is red, which symbolises passion, danger, excitement. <3

You took a swig from your bottle, grimacing at the bitter taste, the sight in front of you even more bitter than the drink itself. It would have to be your worst luck that Andy Barber was here at the party, but his girlfriend as well? Killed you.

It was especially worse since you had a humongous crush on him, which didn’t seem to go away, no matter how hard you tried. It was even worse that you had to act normal around him at work, for fear of being mocked or ridiculed by your coworkers.

Andy Barber had completely encompassed your world and was a part of every waking moment. You watched him get tipsier as time passed, dancing around with his friends, his girl not leaving his side even once. If looks could kill, she’d be dead by now.

Deciding that you needed some air, you stepped out, only faltering a bit as the alcohol was steadily making itself known. Trying to light a cigarette, you heard a few voices from the garage. Your good manners were screaming at you not to eavesdrop, but you couldn’t help it. The liquid courage was winning over.

“So she doesn’t go down on you?” a voice asked. You raised your eyebrows at the question.

“Uh..” you heard the answering voice sigh, followed by a nervous chuckle. Oh my gosh it was Andy. You waited with bated breath for his answer, not knowing what to expect.

"I mean we're happy with each other, she's a great girl, very kind and she's great with Jacob. But there's just no spark." He trailed off, slurring a bit at the end.

You didn't know what to feel about this little tidbit you heard; your brain was telling you that it was wrong to feel good but your senses, your mind was in jubilation. You scuttled off inside before you were caught, this new piece of information even more intoxicating than the alcohol.

You stumbled your way into a bedroom, trying desperately to find a washroom. Why was this place so goddamn big? You mused, relieving yourself, the earlier conversation playing in your head on loop. Shaking yourself mentally, you realised there was nothing you could do about it.

Stepping out, you nearly fell as you bumped into something, your foot getting caught in the doorframe. Strong arms grab onto your biceps, steadying you as you managed to straighten yourself. You looked up to thank the stranger, instead finding yourself looking into the eyes of your dream man.

"Are you ok?" He muttered, his voice soft against your ears. You inhaled sharply, your core tightening in response.

"I am now that you're here." You rasped, unsure of the words coming out of your mouth. Did you just say that? You had no game, generally.

He chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Who are you and what have you done with my sweet, innocent coworker?"

Mesmerized, you gaze at him in wonder. "Who said anything about me being innocent? I'm not a goody two shoes, I'm different." He looked at you, mildly amused. "Oh yeah? What makes you different?"

"Well, for starters, I know how to go down on my man." You whispered in his ear, moving past him, your hip brushing against his.

You had no time to register when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him, his chest colliding against your back. You gasped, turning around to face him, annoyance etched on his face. “What did you say?” he growled, his breath fanning your face.

Smirking, you ran your fingers through his hair, smoothing the crinkle between his eyebrows. “The walls have ears too, you know.” you murmured, stepping closer to him. The rough material of his pants was grazing your thigh, your core throbbing with need now.

Running a finger down his torso, you stopped at the button of his jeans, looking into his eyes, wanting some reaction. Silently, you softly palmed him through his jeans, revelling in the sharp intake of his breath. You looked up at him, for permission to continue, acceptance slowly seeping into his eyes.

Undoing his zipper, you graze your fingers over his boxers, the tent in his underwear causing your core to clench. 

“Can she get you this hard with just one touch?" You softly whispered, running your nose along his. He closed his eyes, his palms closing into a fist. You could feel him mentally warring with his emotions, his body betraying him.

You entangled your lips with his, tugging on his lower lip, as you pulled down his underwear. "I bet she can't do this."

You ran your tongue in one single strip along his length, the tip of your tongue circling around the tip of his member. He moaned softly, his hands undulating, as he tried to stop himself from burying them into your hair. Grinning salaciously, you said, "Answer me, Andy. Can she?"

He gulped, his mouth thinning into a line. "No." He muttered, through gritted teeth. That's just what you wanted to hear. And so you began your amorous assault, taking him in your mouth till he was buried to the hilt. You swirled your tongue, letting your underside work his length. He groaned, his hands finally making their way into your hair, his resolve now fully broken. Bobbing your head around his length, you could feel him slowly thrusting deeper into your mouth.

Suddenly, he pulled you up, throwing you over his shoulder and dropping you unceremoniously onto the bed. Stunned, you were about to retort, but were cut off by his insistent lips. Gathering your wrists in one hand, he tried to tug off your panties, his impatience winning over as he tore them off, the material dangling limply from one of your legs. He circled your nub, his need to be within you ebbing steadily.

Bracing himself on his arms, his fingers locking with yours, he thrust into you in one move, leaving you breathless. His eyes trained onto you, seeing every emotion on your face, spurred him on, as he pounded into you. There was no other way to describe it except frantic coupling. Crossing your ankles, you pushed him deeper, the new angle hitting your front wall, your thighs quivering from the sensory overload. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? To be fucked thoroughly, like a whore?". You gasped, unable to form coherent thoughts, the depth and intensity in his eyes scaring you a bit. "Drop the act, sweetheart. I've seen you in office, swaying those fuckin' hips, batting your eyelashes. Don't act like you didn't want my cock in your pretty pussy, fucking you till you wept."

His words made you feel ashamed but in the deepest, darkest part of your heart, they turned you on like nothing else. They fed your libido, which was already wound tightly around his manhood. This man had you wound around his pinky, but you didn't mind. If that was the cost you had to pay to make him yours, you would pay it.

Pushing your legs up, he let go of your hands to caress your swollen bud. You screamed as the new position left you seeing stars, your legs nearly losing sensation, a warmth seeping through your body. Your silky walls grasped him tightly, to the point where you became one, as he shouted his release. Pulling out, he panted as he glanced at the sight in front of him; your overstimulated lips swollen and wet, messy from your intermingling fluids. He cleaned you up with a wet washcloth as you dozed, leaving as quietly as he could.

You woke up after some time, your limbs and pussy sore, you relishing the ache. You didn't see Andy anywhere, but you did see your clothes neatly kept in a pile at the foot of the bed. You were just about to reach for them when your phone dinged with a message alert. Bemused, you checked and saw it was from Andy.

"See you in office, sweetheart. P.S. Wear a skirt. Don't be late."

Part 2

Tags: @donutloverxo @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @gotnofucks @imdarkinme @ozarkthedog @savior-adriana @chrissquares @a-little-counter-esperanto @denisemarieangelina @chris-butt @patzammit @tenaciousperfectionunknown @worksby-d @starlightcrystalline @tinylumpiaa @whosmarisaaarw @jbreenr @melli0112 @harrysthiccthighss @bigchoose @violentyoshi 

[starlordsandrockets]

Love Bites

pairing: college!Peter Parker x Reader: 18+

Love Bitten (Sex Pollen inspired) oneshot - not MCU canon

Word Count: 11k

summary: You were Stark’s new intern who caught Peter’s eyes from the moment you set foot in the compound. All was well until Peter let loose an extraterrestrial threat which may just cost you your life, unless Peter takes matters into his own hands.

(alternate plot: ‘Lovebug’ - Peter is bitten & needs a cure)

a/n: i did not expect this oneshot to sit at almost an 11k word count but here we are. i hope you enjoy it and i hope it was worth the time i put into it lol.

Peter blames himself for his constant rapid heartbeat. His heightened senses alerted him whenever your small heels clicked off of the compound’s polished floors. His cheeks flushed, almost as red as the new suit Tony had you working on, as he watched you round the corner towards the lab. 

You were wearing a pair of high waisted dress pants. The thick, brown material was covered in a dogtooth pattern, adding professionalism to your otherwise casual attire. You had tucked in a navy blue blouse that sat behind a black belt. God Peter hated that blouse. The deep neckline always attracted his gaze whenever you passed by, or called him over to take measurements for his new suit. He knew you did not do it on purpose, because you never left a single button undone. He knew due to the numerous times he counted the buttons that was the only thing concealing you from him. There were six.

Soon Peter had found himself standing outside of the lab’s doorway, the atmosphere inside felt different today. Almost urgent.

“And don’t you touch it until I come back,” he heard Tony’s voice direct you as the lab door slid open, allowing him to come face to face with Peter. Tony rolled his eyes, not wanting to have to babysit two nineteen year olds, “both of you behave,” at this remark, Tony had blown his cover, attracting your y/e/c eyes. They pierced him, just as they did when he first met you.

Peter remembered the day Tony had first told him to behave himself. Tony was joking of course, Peter Parker had no game, just sweaty palms and a bottomless pit of Star Wars knowledge. Before he could question Tony, he heard your heels clicking for the very first time, a noise that he would soon memorize perfectly.

It was the summer after senior year of high school and Peter had just broken up with MJ. The two high school sweethearts were going to colleges across the country, both realizing, the sooner the breakup the better.

That was the first night he thought about you. And every night after.

“Are you coming in,” Your voice brought Peter back to reality. Your tone was laced with irritation, making him step inside the lab quickly. He did not want to upset you, he was just too busy focusing on you visually to focus on your verbal messages, “what’s up with you,” your tone softened as you returned his gaze, “you seem more twitchy than usual,”

“Twitchy,” Peter asked, his gaze dropping to the floor out of embarrassment. Is that how you really saw him? 

Twitchy? Weird?

You smiled, eyes focused on him almost endearingly as your hands wrote down a few notes, “Sorry,” you cleared your throat, your voice weakening.

Peter looked as awkward as the first time Tony had introduced you to him. Peter must have just gotten back from training or a fight, his curls fell against his forehead in a light sweat. He was breathless as he spoke to you, his sweaty chest rising and falling, clothed in a thin grey shirt. You were screwed.

“It’s fine,” Peter spoke quietly, trying to clear the air, but easily failing, “so what does Mr. Stark not want us messing with,” a tiny, devilish smile crossed his lips which were still pressed in a nervous line. He craved your attention, making countless, pointless conversations ever since he met you.

“This,” your voice was low as your gaze fell from his lips to a white sheet that was spread over a plexiglass case. Removing the sheet, you allowed the low light of the lab to permeate the thin plastic. Almost as if the light had awakened it, a large bug began to shake itself out, as if to make itself look larger than it was, “Tony found it on whatever planet they came back from,”

‘Tony’ 

Peter was surprised by the first name basis, but you were Tony’s intern, right hand woman in the lab. Something about that sent off sparks in him. You were smart enough to get an actual Stark internship, unlike his, “Weird,” Peter shook the thoughts of you out of his mind, reaching towards the glass, you stopped him, wrapping your small hand around his wrist. Jumping from your sudden touch, Peter turned, elbow knocking over the case, “Sorry, sorry,” he spoke a mile a minute, “I didn’t mean that, I’m not normally-“

“Peter,” Your annoyed tone cut through Peter sharper than any threat he has faced. He had not realized he had the case between his hands until he heard you continue, “I think you should go,”

“Right,” Peter’s eyebrows furrowed. All your conversations normally ended like this: he would mess up and you would tell him to go before Mr. Stark found out. Peter knew that you probably viewed him as a waste of space. Little did he know, you thought he was refreshing, a nice change of pace from the serious, Tony Stark. You looked forward to his visits.

Crack.

You watched as Peter’s hold on the small container tightened as he mentally degraded himself. His super strength putting pressure on the container’s vertices, “Peter,” his name left your lips quietly, your focus on his whitening knuckles, “Peter,” you repeated, your volume cutting through his thoughts. But it was too late.

Shards of plexiglass fell around both of your feet as the insect dropped against the cold, lab floor, “Shit,” profanities floated through the air from both of your lips.

“Peter just go-” you spoke as you quickly made your way to the lab’s door.

Peter stood completely still, eyes flashing, trying to locate the large insect, “But Mr. Stark will be so mad, I have to find it,”

“We don’t know why it was in there, I have no clue what it can do, Peter we have to go,” you rambled, like a mother scolding her child, “Now,”

Stepping towards you, Peter felt his senses heighten, eyes falling towards your feet. Before he could warn you, the insect traveled up your heel and under the cuff of your pants. A pained expression crossed your face before Peter watched you go limp. Reaching out, he grabbed you just before you collapsed.

As Peter held you in his arms, he noticed the blood on his hands. Small pieces of glass shone against his hands. Looking down, he watched as the insect fell out of your pant leg, motionless.

Raising his hand, he watched it. Shakily, he pressed the controls that sat next to the sliding door. Blood obscured the screen as he spoke, “Someone please, Mr. Stark, anyone, I didn’t mean to,” his voice cracked as he looked down at you, hoping to find a sign of life. Tony’s voice echoed through the silent lab, but all Peter could focus on was the small breaths that passed through your lips.

***

“I told you not to touch anything, and what do you do-“ Tony spoke, biting the end of a metal pen that sat between his fingers, “you shatter the one thing in that lab that I was still trying to figure out. What’d you do kill it,” he scoffed, “kill it to protect your girlfriend, look where that got her,”

“She’s not-“ Peter spoke, picking at the bandages that sat against his palms. His train of thought resurfaced as Tony slapped his hand away, “it bite her, it bite her leg and it just died. Really Mr. Stark,” Peter watched as Tony’s expression changed, his face looked almost calm as he retreated into his thoughts, “I knew it was going to happen, I felt a tingle-“

“Don’t-” Tony rubbed his temples at the poor naming of Peter’s heightened senses.

“I didn’t mean to break the case and I tried to warn her-“ Peter realized the extent of his rambling, “Mr. Stark,”

“Don’t Mr. Stark me,” Tony spoke.

Tony almost felt a spark of fear travel through him. He and Banner had figured out the extraterrestrial insect to an extent. Their next study was how to cure the bite of the dangerous pest, “Is she going to be okay,” Peter’s small voice interrupted Tony’s deep thoughts, “I really, didn’t mean to,”

“We’ll, we’ll figure it out,” Tony spoke, his hand rubbed against his facial hair, “That thing. It was planted on an asexual planet. It’s bite-“ he paused, really not wanting to have this kind of talk with Peter, “it’s bite makes the victim wake up with the urge to reproduce, sexually,” Tony specified, watching Peter retract into himself, “and if they don’t, they die. Someone was trying to wipe out an entire population,”

“So, Y/N will be okay,” Peter questioned, “you know how to help her, right,” he was back to picking at the fabric bandages and Tony could tell how guilty he really felt. So Tony lied to him.

“Yeah kid, don’t worry,” Tony smiled, “Hell, she’s smart enough that she’ll probably figure out how to fix it herself,”

“Yeah,” Peter laughed, “she’s really smart,” crossing his arms, he began to get lost at the thought of you, “almost as smart as you,” Peter spoke under his breath.

“Don’t get cocky-“ Tony parented, his finger pointing at Peter, “you can see her now, to apologize, no funny business. No taking matters into your own hands,” he warned, watching a blush creep over Peter’s pale complexion.

“What, no, Mr. Stark,” Peter stuttered.

With a snap of his fingers, Tony began to walk out of the hospital wing, “Let’s keep it that way, Pete, you hear me,” Tony could tell how Peter felt about you. It was written all over his nerdy, lovestruck face, “Behave,”

***

Peter studied your chest rise and fall softly. A sheet covered below your waist, as Tony had to remove your dress pants to view the painful bite. The first two buttons of your blouse sat undone, attracting Peter’s eyes. Feeling his fingers reach out to you, he cursed under his breath. He wanted nothing more than to touch you, to feel your soft skin against his rough and worn fingertips. Lost in thought, Peter jumped as he felt the silky fabric of your blouse against his skin. A sigh passed through his lips as he moved his hand, grazing your chest slightly. Taking the first button between his fingers, he fumbled with the button as he hid the bit of skin from his view.

“Peter,” Your voice questioned, it was weak. Raising your hand, you placed your fingertips on the back of Peter’s hand that still sat on your blouse, “please,” you spoke, unable to piece together any coherent thoughts, “it hurts,”

“Hey, hey Y/N,” Peter choked, his guilt grew with each furrow of your brow, “what hurts, can I help,” he slipped his hand out of your weak grasp.

“Everything,” your answer rang as if you were even questioning it, “everything hurts. Except-“ your words trailed as you grazed the skin that Peter had touched moments before, “touch me again,” you demanded, running a hypothesis through your mind.

“What,” Peter choked out, “I was just, your buttons, I was fixing the buttons on your shirt,”

“Peter,” you spoke through the constant pain you were feeling, “Please, I need to figure out how to fix this” sitting up, you reached out for him. Peter stood still, like a deer in headlights. Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you tried to pull his touch closer to you. Before his hand could touch your skin, the door slid open, revealing Tony.

“I thought I told you to behave,” Tony told Peter as he motioned him away, “Y/N, it’s time for the tests,” he watched as your eyes escaped Peter’s gaze before you fell back onto the bed, dramatically.

“Right,” You spoke as Tony pulled back the thin sheet that covered your lower half. Raising your head, you looked at the infected surface. It was pitch black against your complexion. The darkness traveled through your veins, showing just how quickly it was affecting you, “well, fuck,” you swore with a laugh. You attracted both pairs of eyes, you never swore at work, for obvious reasons. Your statement made them both know exactly how bad the situation was, “You better help me down to the lab, I can do the tests myself,” You watched as Tony rolled his eyes, reaching out he touched the bite lightly, barely making contact with your skin. But somehow, you felt as if his touch was broken glass and fire, making you let out an unwarranted scream, “fuck you,” you spit, before realizing you just said that to, not only your boss, but Tony Stark, “I’m sorry, I didn’t- please just don’t, not again,”

Tony’s eyebrows raised before furrowing, “You’re supposed to crave touch, that’s the whole point,” without hesitation, he brought his palm against your thigh. As suddenly as his touch fell against your skin, so did your cry. But then, you gave him the answer he was looking for.

Your eyes opened under your pinched brows, focusing on Peter. He stood in the corner of the room, fighting the urge to rip Tony away from you, “Peter,” you cried out for him, a desperate scream. Your hands reached out for him, fingers curling, begging him to be by your side.

Removing his hand, Tony turned his head, “Kid, get over here,” he motioned Peter with a tilt of his head. He watched as Peter timidly stood by his side. Placing his hand on his back, he pushed him towards you, “I need you to touch her just like I did-“

“Mr. Stark, I can’t,” Peter stuttered, backing away from your pleading eyes, “I can’t touch her like that,” Peter’s eyes could barely focus on your bare legs, the thin white sheet barely covering the pair of lace underwear.

“Sure you can,” Tony demanded, “and I need you to, we need you to,” he explained, “I need to figure out what’s going on and I need you to assist me,”

“But Y/N, Y/N’s your assistant, I can’t Mr. Stark, okay,” Peter tried to back out of Tony’s hold. He wanted nothing more than to touch you, but he could not bare to have his touch hurt you like Tony’s did, “I can’t, I can’t hurt her,”

Tony smiled, a laugh spilling from his lips, “Trust me, I have a feeling that you won’t,” pushing him forward, Peter stumbled.

Looking down at you, Peter met your gaze. He was surprised at how quiet you were being, “Peter please,” your voice was hoarse and low, and it made something stir in Peter. His gaze fell from your eyes to your exposed leg, trailing up to your thigh. Peter took a deep breath as he prepared his ears for another painful scream to fall from your lips. His fingertips danced against your soft skin before falling flat. Pressing his palm into your thigh he let out a sigh. You were so soft, his fingers dug into you, wanting to feel more of you.

Peter was so lost in you that he did not realize how you did not scream at his touch, it almost looked as if it soothed you. Your eyes were closed as a hum vibrated through your content lips. Seeing this, his hand trailed up our thigh as he raised his free hand, bring it towards your other thigh, “Okay, that’s enough,” Tony spoke as he dragged Peter away from you, surprised at Peter’s actions, “thanks for the help Pete, you were a perfect assistant,”

“But Mr. Stark, you’ll hurt her,” Peter protested as Tony began to push him towards the door, “I can touch her- I,” he stuttered, “I can help,”

“Yeah I know,” Tony spoke with a sigh, “You’re very hands on,” he joked, a bit of discipline in his tone, “I just think that until I know how to fix this-“ Tony spoke, “I need to make sure what I think is going on, isn’t going on,” He rubbed his temples at the red flags that waved in his mind, “Listen, I don’t know if having you around might speed up the spread, that you might make her worse,” Tony studied Peter’s eyes, trying to get him to leave without having to give a sex talk to teenagers, “Wait for me in your room and I’ll be there in thirty, okay,”

“Okay,” Peter spoke, holding back his protests, “I’ll be waiting,” he spoke as he backed up towards the door, never breaking away from your worried gaze, “you better come,” Peter watched as Tony stepped in front of you, blocking Peter’s view of your reached out grasp.

“Peter,” you whined, “please,” vocalizing your need for him.

Putting out his hand, it fell against Peter’s chest, “She’ll be fine, you being here is making it worse,” Tony reminded, his eyes narrowing.

“Right,” Peter spoke as he met your eyes from behind Tony, “Y/N, I’ll come visit you later okay-“ he stuttered, “Unless, you don’t want to see me. This is all my fault,” You sat up in the bed, kneeling on the mattress. Peter’s eyes caught a glimpse of black lace peeking out from your unbuttoned blouse, making him blush. You were staring at him silently, almost as if he was the only other person on Earth. He watched as you reached out towards him, past Tony.

Tony turned as your outstretched arms came into view, removing his hand from Peter’s chest, he pushed you back, allowing a small scream to fall from your lips as your back laid against the mattress, “Kid, please go,” 

“Okay, okay but-“ Peter agreed, “but Mr. Stark, can I at least say goodbye,”  his head tilted as Tony rolled his eyes before stepping aside, “hey, hey,” Peter’s words were soft as he rushed to your bedside, “Y/N, Mr. Stark will fix this, and you’ll help,” he admitted, “You’re like super smart, I bet you already know how to fix this,” Peter's voice began to break, the guilt rushing to his head. This was his fault, he wished that he had gotten bitten. Wishing that you had powers to help you fight this. Reaching out, he boldly placed his hand on yours.

“Don’t go,” you told Peter, your eyes fixated on his lips. You could not process the overwhelming emotions that flowed through you. Your eyes traveled from Peter’s lips to his neck as you picked yourself off of the bed, ready to peppered his neck in kisses, “I want you-“ you whispered, “here, with me,” your words grew quieter with each inch that barely separated you from him.

“And that would be your queue to leave,” Tony spoke urgently, reaching out he pulled Peter away from you. Curses and whines left your lips as Peter stared back at Tony like a deer in headlights, “like I said, you’re making things worse. If you would be so kind,” he motioned to the door.

“Right,” Peter nodded, “I’m, I’m going to leave now, Y/N,” he told you as he made his way to the automatic door, it opening behind him. Locking eyes with you, he looked down at your exposed legs, seeing that the bite was spreading, “you’ll be okay,” he whispered, trying to convince himself more than you.

***

Checking his watch, he watched as the seconds counted down. It has been twenty nine minutes since he left the hospital wing, “He said thirty, he’ll be here,” Peter spoke to himself, “He’s probably just finishing up a cure or something,” he bounced on the balls of his feet, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands, bunching the fabric in his palms.

Three knocks echoed through the silent room and Peter wasted no time in answering, “Y/N,” he prayed out loud.

“Try again,” Tony spoke, walking into Peter’s room without an invitation, “We need to have the talk,” he somewhat joked, “Y/N’s not doing too hot, I think it’d be best if you helped by-“ his words began to speed up as he spoke, “staying locked up in here until I figure things out,” Tony did not meet Peter’s eyes as he looked around the nineteen year old’s room, “Sounds like a plan,” he spoke over Peter’s protests.

“Mr. Stark, I’m not fifthteen anymore,” Peter talked back, “Why do you still act like I am, you still hide the truth from me like I’m a kid,”

“Fine, I’ll get rid of the metaphorical child lock when you learn to stop calling me Mr. Stark,” Tony taunted, “but you’re right. And you should probably know since you’re the one who let the cat out of the plexiglass bag,”

“Please,” Peter sighed, the familiar wave of guilt sweeping him back up.

“Fine,” Tony matched Peter’s irritated energy, “You might want to sit down for this one,” Pulling Peter’s desk chair over to the twin bed that sat in the small room, Tony took a seat, “I really hope May went over the basics with you because I’m not explaining that,” he started as Peter sat in the middle of his bed, “Right so, the bug. The bug was sent to a planet whose inhabitants were beginning to be a dying race. They reproduced asexually, and painfully slowly honestly, but the point is-“ Tony rubbed his temples as he felt Peter’s eyes on him, “the bug was sent there to wipe them out. It’s bite gives the injured the urge to sexually reproduce, it spreads a poison though the body and the only, known, cure,” he cleared his throat, “is obvious even to someone like you,”

“What is that supposed to mean,” Peter asked, rosy cheeked. Tucking his hands under his arms he spoke quietly, “so just call Y/N’s boyfriend or something, she’s got to have one she’s so pretty and smart,” Peter rambled, “like really pretty and smart,”

“If it was that easy I wouldn’t be talking to you,” Tony rolled his eyes, “I asked. She doesn’t have a boyfriend,” he watched Peter perk up at his statement, “and not that I’d throw anyone her way, but it looks like she can’t stand the touch of everyone in the compound but you,” Tony’s eyes found Peter’s waiting for his reaction.

Peter’s eyes fell from Tony’s gaze and onto the healing wounds on his hands, “Me,” he questioned, more himself than Tony, “Come on Mr. Stark, I mean-“ he tried to correct himself, “there’s no way,”

Tony placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder, patting it a few times, “You have more game than I thought, I’ll give you that,” turning he headed towards the door, “Now, like I said,” Tony’s eyes found Peter’s as he leaned against the doorframe, “stay here, for her sake,” Before Peter could protest, the door slid shut, “I trust you, so I’m not going to lock you in here,” Tony spoke through the closed door, “don’t make me regret that,”

“Right,” Peter spoke as he began to process Tony’s words. He stood alone, listening to Tony’s expensive shoes click down the hallway until Peter was left alone with his thoughts. Turning his head, he met his own gaze in a mirror. Studying his appearance he wondered what you saw in him.

You were beautiful. Every time he saw you he felt as if he was graced by an angel, especially when Tony made you wear a white lab coat. Your y/h/c hair bounced with every click of your heeled shoes. Some days you wore classic heels, other days boots, and Peter loved being able to hear you coming from a mile away. 

Some days you came in wearing a pair of glasses, helping you fight off migraines from all nighters in the lab. You had a few pairs you would cycle through, and Peter loved how each pair framed your face in different ways, but always perfectly.

Peter had looked at your eyes so many times. Have you ever looked at him the way he looked at you? Who knows. He could never meet your gaze for more than a few seconds before looking away. While your gaze always studied him, as if he was just another thing in the lab.

Stepping back from the mirror, he wondered how long he had been lost in thought of you. Peter wanted nothing more than to go see you, to help Tony or to just apologize. However, he returned the chair to his desk before laying down on his bed.

***

Tony had visited Peter every hour since his first visit. But now hours separated his visits, increasing Peter’s concern. His eyes were glued to the door as he propped himself up on his elbows, waiting for Tony to walk through the door.

Finally, the door opened, “How is she,” Peter called out. Practically jumping off his bed, he made his way over to Tony, “You figured it out right, you fixed it,” he begged.

Tony rubbed his temples as he checked his watch. It was almost midnight. Peter had been stuck in his room for almost nine hours, “You must be hungry,” Tony spoke over Peter who rambled in front of him, “Why don’t you go check and see what food we have here. Better yet, get take out. Leave the compound for awhile,”

“Mr. Stark-“ Peter sighed, reaching out, he grabbed Tony’s arm. The force of his grip made Tony stop talking, but only for a moment. 

“I sent her to her room. I’m having her get some rest while I try and figure out what the hell you let out,” he told Peter, “do me a favor, go out,” Tony almost pleaded, “get your mind off of this, I know the guilt is eating at you,”

“It’s midnight, where am I-” Peter’s grasp loosened as his jaw clenched, “Okay,” he assured. Although, his mind was figuring out a way to see you, “I’ll try,”

“You can take one of the cars,” Tony attempted a smile, “any one you’d like, just not one that’s too expensive,”

“Right,” Peter laughed as he walked past Tony, collecting his wallet and a hoodie, “Do you want anything,” he asked.

“No thanks,” Tony spoke as he looked around Peter’s room, “I’m good,”

***

Tony was right. Peter was starving. But he was more hungry for you than the Thai food he had managed to pick up and eat in Tony’s expensive car.

Driving back to the compound, Peter hoped he would return to good news. But Peter wanted to see for himself. Parking the car, he headed to the room Tony had given you for when you pulled all nighters in the lab.

Approaching your closed door. Peter took a deep breath, the to-go bag that sat in his hand crunched in his tight grasp, “Y/N,” he almost whispered, not wanting Tony to know he disobeyed, “Y/N, I brought you some Thai, it’s fine if you don’t want it, did Mr. Stark give you anything to eat,” Peter rambled as he attempted to unlock your door on the keypad. After a few attempts, your door slid open, “Y/N,” he asked, your room was dark besides a few lavender candles that Tony must have lit to calm you down, “are you okay,” his eyes found you laying on the bed. Setting the bag down on your dresser, the noise made you pick up your head.

“Peter,” his name rang through his ears, hearing just how much pain laced your voice, “please-“ you sat up as he made his way to your side. You watched as Peter’s eyes grew wide before his gaze fell to the floor, “I feel like I’m on fire,” you spoke, sitting before him in just your bra and underwear. The pair was a matching black lace, “I need you to touch me again,”

“Mr.- Mr. Stark told me not to be around you,” he stuttered as you reached out towards him, “It’s for the best, I don’t want to hurt you again,”

“Peter you make me feel good,” your words were soft, almost innocent, “please, it makes the pain go away,” You watched as he shook his head, denying you, “Just for a minute, please Peter, it hurts,”

Peter wanted nothing more than to touch you. Well, he wanted to do so much more to you, but not like this. His eyes fell to your leg, it was pitch black. It traveled through your veins, his gaze hugging all of your curves, almost forgetting that he was inspecting your infection.

Who was he to deny you a bit of relief? It was his fault you were hurting and he could help with the smallest touch, “Just for a minute,” Peter breathed out, as he found himself kneeling in front of you on the small bed.

Peter’s hands shook as he brought them towards you slowly. Unable to wait, your hands wrapped around Peter’s wrists, bringing his large hands against the curves of your heated skin. Your eyes found Peter’s face. His gaze traced your body slowly, a blush sat on his boyish face. You hummed in relief as your hands found their way to his waist.

Your fingertips pushed past the thin fabric of his shirt, tickling his skin. You felt him jump at your touch, his hands exploring your body slowly, “How’s this,” he stuttered, hoping to soothe you.

“So good,” you praise, watching his eyes flutter shut, “thank you,” you spoke, trailing your hands up his body. The fabric of his shirt collected around your wrists as you began to close the space that sat between you and Peter.

“Yeah,” Peter breathed out, his voice shaking. His eyes remained clothed, unable to look at you. His heightened senses made something stir within him, seeing your body would definitely push him over the edge, unsure what he would do to you. Instead, Peter tried to picture your room in his mind.

Your room was barely decorated, almost as if you were too afraid to make it feel like home. Peter visualized the contents that sat on your dresser: a heart shaped jewelry box, candles and a few gifts that you received on your recent birthday. Including a plush of your favorite species of dinosaur that Peter had gotten you when he heard you mention once or twice.

Opening his eyes, he realized the plush was not on your dresser, but in your bed. Peter felt his heart flutter at the thought of you holding his gift against your skin, let alone the thought of you sleeping with it. What was wrong with him? Forcing his gaze off of the plush that sat against your infected leg, his eyes fell on a familiar piece of fabric near your pillow, “Is that,” he questioned out loud.

“Tony gave me one of your shirts,” You whispered, almost as if it was a secret, and it was. Peter was unaware that Tony had sent him away just so he could raid Peter’s dirty laundry, “he gave it to me so I could have something that smelled like you,” You sighed, happy to have the real thing in your grasp. You felt blissful, the pain was replaced with desire and lust, “he told me I couldn’t have you,”

“You could do so much better than me,” Peter laughed nervously, honesty laced his words. He was unsure of why you were craving his touch, why it soothed you while Tony’s caused you pain. Sure, he knew why. But Peter kept telling himself it was not true.

There was no way that you could like him.

Peter was so lost in his thoughts that he did not realize how close you had gotten. He felt as you pressed your stomach against his, feeling how heated your skin truly was. A small gasp fell from his lips as you leaned into him with a smile, your lips pressed against his jawline.

“Shit,” he breathed out. Peter had daydreamed about your lips since he met you, and now he finally felt them against his skin. Hunger pooled inside of him as his hands grabbed at you, feeling how soft and warm you were, he wanted more of you. Then he thought of Tony, or Tony’s words, and he began to remove his unzipped hoodie. His hands quickly removed the jacket that sat over the bunched fabric of his shirt that pooled around your wrists.

A smile crossed your lips as you watched him begin to remove his clothes, “Let me feel you,” You whispered against his jawline, looking up at him from under your lashes, “Please, Peter,” But suddenly, Peter stepped back.

You looked up at him, reaching out. A pained expression crossed your face as your hands no longer sat against Peter’s chest and your lips no longer kissed his skin, “Mr. Stark told me to stay away,” Peter spoke, his words not wanting to leave his lips, “Eat something, I’ll check in later okay. Please-“ he could barely say no, every primal cell in his body telling him to fix you himself. To have his way with you. To cure you. But Peter did not know if that would actually cure you, he had to make sure. He did not want his first kiss with you to be under this circumstance, let alone sleeping with you, but he knew they were running out of time.

Walking closer to you from where he stood, he raised your arms, slipping the sleeves of his hoodie over your skin, making you hum. It smelled like him, and it soothed you, “You’ll be back,” You asked, looking up at him.

Peter stood over you, making you smile. His once tamed hair was tousled by your traveling hands moments ago. You studied his jawline that you left peppered in kisses. He was gorgeous. You were almost glad he let out that bug, allowing you to express your feelings towards him. But on the other hand, Peter Parker was literally killing you, slowly, as he refused to act on his own emotions.

“I’ll be back,” Peter’s voice cut through your thoughts, “I promise,” he whispered, studying your hungry gaze. He wanted to kiss you. Should he? It would make you feel better, maybe even, for a moment, stop the spread of your infection. Suddenly, listening to his thoughts, Peter planted a soft kiss on your cheek, his lips lingering. Inches separated him from your lips and he decided to close the space. Bringing his large hands to your face, he cradled your cheeks as he left a gentle kiss on your heated lips. He felt cold against you, almost as if you could make him melt.

He felt your fingertips find their way under his shirt and against his hips, making him jump. Pulling away, he needed to stop himself before he took things too far, “I’ll come back later,” he spoke, “as long as you eat,”

“Fine,” You frowned, craving his kiss, his touch, all of him, “I’ll be waiting,” you told him, already feeling the pain flood back through your veins.

***

Peter’s back fell against the mattress as a groan escaped his lips. Now he was in physical pain. He missed the feeling of your lips on his skin, let alone his own lips. He fought the urge to run back to you, to cure you. To lay you on your bed and take the pain away, to replace it with pleasure.

Peter’s eyes were closed as he took deep breaths, trying to calm his heightened senses and emotions.

The sound of his door sliding open broke his concentration, “Please tell me it’s good news,” he asked, eyes expecting to find Tony’s, only to lock onto your y/e/c eyes, “Y/N-”

“You forgot to lock me in my room like Tony did,” you almost tease, watching Peter almost cower as you walked towards him. The only article of clothing that sat over your matching bra and underwear was his hoodie, and that sparked something inside of him, almost primal, “Thank you for your hoodie,” you spoke quietly, your nervous words contrasting your bold actions, “it makes me feel better-” you almost smiled as you watched Peter sit on the edge of his mattress, “but I need you,” you admit.

Swinging your leg onto the bed, you straddle his lap before sitting on his legs, “Y/N-” was all Peter could manage. His hands snaked up your legs, starting at your heels until they rested on your thighs, making him groan, “we shouldn’t, you shouldn’t be here,” he corrected, “What if Mr. Stark-”

“Then you’ll have to be quick,” Your words cut him off, along with your lips, catching Peter in a soft kiss, “Please, I really don’t think there’s another way,” you spoke before pursing your lips, “I don’t think Tony has a clue how to help,” you whispered, making Peter laugh quietly, “besides-” your hands found the hem of his shirt, pulling it up, “you,”

Peter felt your fingertips on his hips, making him swallow a moan, he was not sure how much longer he could last, “Y/N, are you sure,” he managed, “because I don’t know if I can hold back,” he thought of his superstrength, not wanting to hurt you, “God I want you,” his fingers dug into your thighs making you vocalize.

“I need you to help me,” you nod, “make me feel good,” the words left your lips as you got lost in Peter’s hungry gaze. His brown eyes flickered with desire before falling to your lips, catching you in a hungry kiss.

Peter’s hands traveled to your cheeks, cupping them before tangling into your hair. A groan passed through your parted lips as Peter almost consumed you, his large frame pressed against you, “I know you need me,” Peter spoke against your lips, “but do you want me,” his body no longer pressed against you as he retracted into his thoughts. Peter knew there was a reason that only he could touch you and how he soothed you, but he wanted to hear you say it.

It was true, you need him. You were desperate for him, but you always have been, “I’ve wanted you for a long time,” you breathed out, embarrassed by your sudden confession. Your body burned as you studied the black veins that crawled up your sides, “I really wish this could have happened naturally, and to not have my life depend on you fucking me,” you almost laughed as a blush crawled across Peter’s freckled cheeks and nose, “At first I thought you were just a nice change of pace from having to deal with Tony all day,” your eyes left your skin, trying to not remind yourself of the pain you were feeling, “but then I found myself thinking about you when I wasn’t at the compound. And when I was here I was so glad Tony had me making your stupid suit because I had a reason to call you into the lab,” You studied Peter’s face sheepishly, watching a smile cross his lips, “even when I didn’t actually need you around. I just, I wanted you around,”

“But you always end up telling me to leave,” Peter questioned, catching your eyes.

“Because you always start messing with something, you constantly have to be touching something, have you noticed that,” you began to laugh. But your laughter was cut short as you felt Peter’s hands begin to roam under his hoodie that sat on your skin.

“Yeah,” Peter asked lowly, his eyes hooded and hungry, “does that bother you,” He felt you shiver in his hold, his hand tracing your spine as the other brushed your nipple through your lace bra. The feeling of you falling apart at his touch made him fall for you completely.

You felt as Peter’s fingers danced along the band of your bra, finally falling on the hooks. It took Peter a minute to unhook it, fighting the urge to tear it off of you.

“No,” you finally answered, the air of his room fell against your skin as you watched your bra drop to the floor of Peter’s room. The air of his room felt thick to Peter, but it cooled the burning desire that sat on your surface, “I think it’s cute,” you admit, making Peter laugh.

Peter’s eyes danced across your chest as a smile curled his lips. You were even more beautiful than he imagined, “so pretty,” he breathed out, “so desperate for me, huh,” something changed within him, almost as if a switch had flipped. He was no longer a blushing, timid mess. He wanted you and to dominate you.

“Please,” was all you could plead, truly as desperate as he said.

Peter no longer tried to swallow his desire for you. He would fix you, and only hope that the feelings you relayed for him would not change.

He knew he was rusty, and under any other circumstance he would take his time with you. Peter wanted to taste you on his tongue, smelling just how turned on you were. He could smell you since you first woke up, post-bite, and laid eyes on him. But he had to be quick and hope that he would get another chance to pleasure you, slowly, on his own time.

“There’s so much I want to do to you,” he shares, “maybe next time,” Peter’s hands cup your breasts, his question barely leaving his lips before you interrupt him.

“You can do whatever you want to me,” You practically moan, your voice sheepish as it caught in your throat, “after you fix me,” Suddenly, Peter’s lips crashed against yours, hands kneading your soft skin.

A low groan was the only thing to escape Peter’s lips, which vibrated against your own. As the kiss deepened, you began to remove his hoodie, only to feel his hands pull the fabric back onto your shoulders, “Wanna see you in that, you look so perfect in my clothes,” he mumbled against your skin, lips never once leaving your skin, “but maybe not these,” he spoke as his fingertips hooked the band of your underwear before pulling them down your legs, painfully slow.

Peter knew you were not his, not now, and maybe not ever. But for this moment, he would pretend that you wanted him more than just a cure. Moments ago you confessed, but for some reason, he could not believe you really wanted him. Your feelings for him felt like a dream, as if he would wake up and they would disappear.

You shook Peter out of his thoughts as you roughly pulled his soft shirt over his head, once again messing up his thick, brown locks. He still kneeled before you, closer now, but he somehow seemed equally distant, “Peter,” you spoke through the pain that traveled through you, “can we talk, after,” he nodded, his brown gaze swallowing you whole, “I just really need you right now,” your hands found their way to the button of his baggy, blue jeans, making you smile slightly, “I can’t wait to get you out of these,”

“What is that supposed to mean,” Peter asks, his voice lower than normal, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Wanna see more of you,” you stutter, answering him shyly. You were still shocked at how quickly Peter Parker could go from a timid, stumbling mess to an arrogant top, “all of you,”

Pushing you back onto the bed, Peter listened to you whine, hitting against the mattress. His hands quickly found his zipper, watching the poison travel up your sides, he pushed the thick fabric down his legs. Stepping out of his pants, they landed on your floor with an audible ‘thump.’

The tent in Peter’s tight boxers left nothing to imagination. He had been waiting for this moment for what felt like an eternity, and so have you. You stared up at Peter, his skin glowed in the dull lit room, for a moment you could have swore a demigod knelt before you, “fuck,” you muttered, eyes traveling from his neck, down: his chest almost heaved as he stared at you, his v-line directed your eyes unwillingly to the skin he was hiding from you behind dark fabric. “Please, take them off,” you spoke, unknowingly.

“Maybe you want me more than I think,” Peter admits, mostly to himself. His palm fell against the length that stretched the thin fabric.

“I want you so badly,” You breathed out, arms above your head. The fabric of his hoodie framed you perfectly. You were perfectly laid out before him, begging and ready.

With a groan, Peter pulled the tight fabric away from his, now heated, skin; exposing himself to you, “Wish I could taste you,” he admits, face flushed, “make you feel good,” That made you whimper. If not for the circumstance, Peter would have eaten you out until morning, but that would have to wait, “I have to take care of you first,”

Your eyes watched as he pumped himself, pleasuring himself at the sight of you withering below him, “please,” your voice was quiet and obedient. A bead of precum kissed his skin before it fell onto you. Another whimper passed through your lips at the vision above you.

“Gonna take such good care of you,” Peter spoke, his words coming out in waves of bliss. Setting his hands on your legs, he parted them before slipping his grasp to your thighs. Peter pulled you closer to him, his dick sitting flush against your bare center, “shit,” his lips parted as his eyes studied you underneath him. A sigh escaped his lips before his shoulders rounded, planting a soft kiss between your breasts. A small smile crosses your lips as he peppered your chest in kisses, “you’re so pretty,” Peter felt as if he was dreaming.

Raising your hands, you cupped his cheeks. Your eyes no longer followed your poisoned veins, but studied Peter’s soft, brown eyes. A flash of panic reflected in his milk chocolate eyes, “A condom,” Peter’s voice choked out, making you laugh.

“Peter, I’m literally dying. That’s the least of my worries right now,” you almost teased, “but I’m on the pill,” you inform him, “it’s fine,”

“Oh,” Peter spoke, his cheeks heating up in your hold, “Okay, yeah,” he hyped himself, trying to get back into the lost mood. Doing so, he rubbed the tip of his dick against your clit, making you let out a small moan. You were wet as he ran himself through your folds, head thrown back, a small smile plastered on his lips, “shit,”

You heard Peter moan as he slipped into you so easily, bottoming out he looked down at you. You were being uncharacteristically silent. Afterall, this was the cure and what you had been craving for almost half of a day.

You laid beneath him, exposed. The fabric of his soft hoodie barely covered your body, falling off your shoulders. Your nipples, now hardening, sat against the cool air that soothed your warm skin. Your hands sat above your head, making you look vulnerable. Peter practically melted inside of you, losing himself almost completely. The fantasy of you that he had built in his mind was fading into reality as he began to move his hips. You let out a moan, bringing him back to you and out of his lustful thoughts, “more, Pete,” you pleaded, “faster,”

And just like that, he was lost. A growl crawled out of his throat as his hands found your hips, slamming back into you with super strength. You let out a scream, your parted lips allowing Peter to place his thumb on your tongue. His brown eyes stared back at you as he thrusted in and out of you. When he could tell he did not hurt you, he attached his lips to your neck, covering you in bruised kisses. If tonight was just a one night stand, he would at least have a few reminders for as long as it took for your bruises to fade.

“You gonna be good for me,” Peter asked, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb still sitting between your lips, “be quiet, so Mr. Stark doesn’t hear,” the formality made you laugh, tickling the skin of his thumb, “what,”

“Nothing,” you laugh around his thumb, “You still call Tony that,” your question was obscured, “it’s endearing,” you teased.

Suddenly, something changed in Peter’s eyes, they were almost darker. It felt like forever as you stared into his eyes, fear stirring within you. You blinked, and suddenly Peter had thrown you onto your stomach. Hiking up the fabric of his hoodie, his flat palm down against your ass. The spank left your skin glowing, a moan bubbling past your lips.

Peter laughed, of course you would like that, “Fine, then I’m going to make him hear you,” dominance rang through his voice, something you never heard from Peter, and it almost scared you as much as it excited you.

You felt Peter’s knee push your right leg aside, spreading your legs wider. Aligning himself once again, he melted into you. Molding into you perfectly, he felt if his only purpose in life was to be inside of you.

You felt better than Peter could have ever dreamed. Your body hugged him tightly as you clenched around him with every kiss he left on your skin and every word of praise that fell from his lips.

Trailing his hands down your back, he grabbed your hair in his hands, collecting your y/h/c locks into a ponytail. Pulling on the hair that sat in his grasp, he slammed back into you, his thrusts becoming faster and faster, “T-Tell me how much you want me,” Peter almost whispered, his words came out in sheepish waves. A blush fell against his cheeks as sex flush traveled across his chest in pink patches, “wanted you so bad, Y/N,”

“I wanted you so bad- so bad- fuck,” you scream as Peter’s thrusts some how became faster. If you did not know any better you could think Peter’s ability was super speed, “Fuck that feels so good,” you moan as Peter’s free hand appeared against your cheek, his touch was soft in contrast of his harsh actions. Brushing your hair out of your face, two of Peter’s fingers found their way past your blushed lips. Your moan rolled over his skin as he pressed his fingers onto your tongue.

“Close- I’m close,” Peter breathed out, slightly embarrassed, “Y/N-“ his words were interrupted as you escaped from his grasp. A silent whimper left his lips before you pushed him back onto the mattress.

As you straddled his hips, you were no longer in pain. Peter had cured you, and yet, you wanted him more than ever. As Peter filled you, inch by inch, you found yourself getting lost in him, more and more, until you were completely his, “Cum for me,” you spoke lowly, beginning to ride him. You watched as Peter’s face twisted from a surprised expression to pleasure, “are you going to cum for me,” you asked, raking your nails on his hips. You watched his brows furrow as he nodded somehow innocently, “good, I need you to cum-“ you moan as Peter grabbed your hips, thrusting up into you, “want you to,”

Peter began to reach his high, wishing he could have lasted longer; but you felt so damn good he was surprised he lasted this long, “Yeah, yeah-“ he stuttered, “gonna cum for you,” a moan passed through Peter’s lips as he thought of you below him, “gonna look so pretty covered in my cum,” he told you. After his words left his tongue, he felt your legs lock against his sides, not wanting him to pull out. In this moment, Peter was thankful for his super strength.

You were easily tossed onto the mattress, your eyes opening just in time to watch Peter reach his climax. His brows were knitted as he looked down at you, and at that moment you felt like the only two people on Earth. You were brought back to reality as Peter came across the exposed skin of your chest. His cum was warm, making you realize your skin no longer felt like fire. The only burning that coursed through your veins was for Peter.

Peter’s brown eyes trailed along the white that sat against your skin, watching your chest rise and fall with each heavy breath. He studied your hard nipples that sat against the cool air of his room until his gaze finally fell to meet your eyes, “h-how do you feel,” his question was soft and quiet, making a smile cross your lips, “I can keep going,”

“Why don’t we see if Tony’s suspicious before we start another round,” you laugh, watching Peter’s serious nod, “Peter-“ another laugh fell from your lips, “I’m okay, I’m okay now, thank you,” You were pretty sure Peter had cured you. Your skin no longer burned for him, but now from your recent actions.

“Mmhm,” Peter hummed, his eyes falling back to your chest. Raising his hands, you felt his fingers brush against your nipples, making you jump, “I told you you’d look pretty covered in my cum,” he whispered, his words vibrating against your lips as he closed the space between the two of you. As you hummed into his kiss, Peter’s hands cupped your breasts, spreading the cooled cum into your skin, making you moan quietly.

“Peter,” you moaned, “Tony, he’s probably looking for me,” somehow, you snaked yourself out of Peter’s hold, zipping up his hoodie over your bare skin. Your eyes searched Peter’s floor for your underwear as you felt Peter’s endearing gaze trail over you, “what,” you almost blush. Before this, Peter could never look your way, making it easier for the both of you to hide your true feelings. But now Peter was looking at you as if you were lovers.

Were you?

“Nothing,” Peter spoke quietly, handing you the thin fabric of your underwear. He watched as you slipped them on, noticing the black slowly traveling back down to your infected bite, “I’m just, sorry,”

A smile crossed your lips as you met his soft gaze, he was very sweet, despite how he just got done dominating you. Setting your feet on the ground, you stood over him as he sat on his bed. You studied him before planting a kiss on his lips, your attraction to him not fading along with your poisonous bite, “Get dressed, I’m going to find Tony,” you told him, “I have a feeling he’ll come see you after he rips me a new one for sleeping with you,”

Peter laughed quietly, “Right,” he spoke, forgetting he still sat on his bed completely exposed to your traveling eyes.

“Not that I want to leave,” you admit sheepishly. You watched as Peter met your gaze from where it dropped to his exposed skin.

“You can come back, later, you can sleep here,” Peter offers with embarrassment, “you don’t have to, whatever you want,” he rambled before you caught his lips in another sweet kiss, “mm,” he hummed, content and completely in love.

“As long as I make it back from Tony in one piece, I’d love to,” You assured him before heading to the door, “bye,” you spoke quietly and awkwardly.

***

Peter’s eyes were fixed on the ceiling as he recalled how you felt in his grasp, the way you fit under him perfectly.

However, his fantasy was interrupted by his door sliding open and Tony bursting through. Tony slipped through, barely allowing the door to open, “What did I say-” he almost shouted, “Hands off, I told you to not take matters into your own hands,” he rambled, “literally,”

“I cured her okay,” Peter almost cowered, sitting up on his bed, “you weren’t getting anywhere, she was getting worse, if it reached her heart-”

“Yeah, kid, I know-” Tony sighed, “and that’s why I’m upset,” pulling Peter’s desk chair towards the bed, he sat down, “I don’t dare sit on that bed,” Tony remarked, hinting at Peter’s previous actions on his sheets, “I’m upset because I couldn’t figure it out, if you weren’t here-” he rubbed his temples, “if she didn’t want you, she’d be dead, because I couldn’t find a cure in time and that’s on me,”

Peter studied his own hands, not daring to look at Tony in such a vulnerable state. He had not seen Tony so transparent in a long time.

“But those hickies,” Tony almost laughed, “I didn’t think you’d have it in you. I don’t know which bug’s bite is worse, yours or that thing,”

“You know Mr. Stark, I’m so tired-” Peter spoke, a blush crossing his face.

“Oh I bet,” Tony toyed, “coming up with that cure must have taken so much energy,” he began to laugh as Peter shuffled on his bed, “Alright, alright, but I’m not dropping this. Hell I’m telling everyone at breakfast-”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter groaned, watching Tony head towards the door. With a wave of his hand, Tony was gone, leaving Peter alone and flustered.

Falling back against his mattress he almost wanted to scream. He wanted you in his arms, but he was afraid that now that he cured you, you would no longer want his company.

Peter’s door slid open as you stood there, studying him. It looked as if he was lost in deep thought. Making your way into the center of the room, you tossed the dinosaur plush you held towards him. Sensing it, Peter’s hand raised, catching it and studying it.

Raising his head, his expression looked as if he was surprised to see you. You cocked your head as you made your way over to his bed, wondering why he was so surprised that you had come back.

“Hey,” Peter smiled, he spoke in a confused tone, “I didn’t-” clearing his throat, he sat up, “you came back,” he stated.

“Why wouldn’t I,” You questioned, “Tony barely told me off, did a test and sent me to my room like a child,” you laughed. Peter sat before you, plush in his hands. You watched as he ran his fingers over the soft fabric.

“I’m just, so glad you’re okay,” Peter breathed a sigh of relief, seeing you before him, no longer in pain.

“Yeah,” you spoke, noticing that guilt was still eating away at him, “the tests came back, I’m okay. Thanks to you,” your voice grew silent as you wondered if Peter felt the same way about you, or if he was just doing you a favor. If you were in Peter’s shoes you would cure him too, with no hesitation, “I would have done the same for you,” you admitted.

You watched Peter’s shoulder bounce with each small laugh that passed through his lips, “Thanks,” he almost questioned, “It was hard seeing you getting worse, when I could have done something as soon as you woke up. I could tell-” Peter stuttered before he cut off his own words.

“Tell, what,” you asked, watching him lean against the headboard of his bed, long legs stretched across the mattress. Without a second thought, you straddled his hips, joining him on the bed. His hoodie was still the only thing covering your underwear, making Peter wonder how you let Mr. Stark see you that way.

“T-tell, that- that you needed me,” Peter stuttered, placing the plush between the two of you, almost acting as a barrier, “I could sense it- my powers, my powers could tell,”

“How badly I wanted you, from the moment I woke up,” You asked shyly, yet with a smile on your lips. You watched Peter nod, unable to meet your gaze. He was back to his shy, normal self, “how could you tell,” you almost whispered, catching Peter’s eyes as his head snapped forward, a blush crossed his freckled skin, “or do I not want to know,” you spoke, leaning in with a small smile.

Peter studied your y/e/c eyes for what seemed like an eternity, almost as if he was rehearsing in his mind, “Y/N, do you still like me,” he spoke, “because if it was just because of the bite, I get it- maybe it was a side effect-”

Setting your hands on Peter’s chest softly, your hands slid up to the sides of his neck, “There was a reason why you could only touch me,” you almost whispered, lowering yourself onto Peter’s lap. He was warm, “you already know. You’re smart, why do you always forget that,”

You were right. When Peter is around Tony, and even you, he forgets how smart he is. He knew all the answers he was searching for. He knew that you liked him, he just chose to not accept it. You were studying him, unsure if he needed you to keep reassuring him.

“You’re smart, and really cute, and charming,” you almost blush, “I lov- I really like having you around in the lab, you make everything fun. I don’t have to worry when you’re around,” you trail off as you study Peter’s eyes, it looked as if he was not listening to you at all, “Peter,”

Peter stared at you, hungrily, feeling as if he was consumed by desire. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you. Peter wanted to finish what he started earlier. However, on his own time. Peter would not have to worry about the cure, he could take his time with you. Finally taste you.

“Peter,”

He heard you repeat his name and this time he cut you off with a kiss. It was hungry, tongue and teeth, and it took you by surprise. Tossing aside the plush that still sat in his hands, his grasp now fell on your thighs that peeked out from under the fabric of his jacket. His fingertips dug into your skin, making you moan. Peter could have sworn you moaned his name, but he was too far gone. Bringing his hands to the zipper of his jacket, he exposed your skin to the cool air, and to him as well.

Leaving your thighs, Peter grabbed at you, not leaving any inch of skin untouched. His hands traveled to your chest, cupping and squeezing you, releasing pretty profanities to leave your occupied lips, “wanna taste you,” Peter admitted in the middle of the impure kisses he left on your lips, “make you feel good,”

“Pete-” you stuttered at his sudden change in demeanor, “I’m tired,” you wanted nothing more than to watch his handsome face sink between your legs, but your entire day had been filled with pain. You needed sleep.

“Right,” Peter smiled, placing a kiss between your breasts, “I’ll just have to wake you up that way,” he told you, slipping his thin shirt over his head, “but you’re right,” rising to his feet, he walked towards the control panel that sat on the wall. After turning off the lights and locking the door, he returned to your side, on his small bed, “are you sure, my bed’s kind of small,”

You nodded, in complete darkness. You were sure Peter could not even tell you had answered him with the gesture, but you felt him reach out, pulling you closer to him. You felt your eyes grow heavy, unable to keep them open as Peter nervously rambled to you about how glad he was that you were okay and how much you meant to him. You wanted to ask him what the two of you were now that your feelings for each other were unmasked, but that would have to wait until morning. You were in no state to process.

“Let’s talk in the morning,” Peter’s quiet voice interrupted your thoughts, making you hum in agreement, “after I wake you up,” he added, a slight blush was hidden from you in the dark room, but you knew it was there.

You drifted off to sleep in Peter’s strong arms. After all that you had gone through that day you finally felt safe.

[collecting-stories]

Creed - Din Djarin

Request: I had this idea for a mando drabble or one shot request if you're interested where reader is his wife and so she's seen him without the helmet but one day he's fallen asleep with it on, so she goes to take it off for him so he'll be more comfortable, but he gets startled and reacts badly and feels guilty about it and angst and stuff

A/N: Sorry this took a little while to get out! It was my first Mando request and I was hella nervous!!! (also...I’m playing fast and loose with creed rules in this one. Also, also...guess Grogu was asleep lol)

Star Wars Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

It wasn’t as if you’d never seen him without the helmet, being his wife afforded you certain privileges when you were alone with him, of them being that you were allowed to see his face. Even still, you knew how seriously he took his creed and had never been the one to remove the helmet, understanding that it was important for him to un-mask himself. So many who threatened to hurt him had tried to remove the helmet without his consent that you would be foolish not to know how having it removed, even if it was only you, would affect him.  

And you wouldn’t have ever taken it off of him yourself if it wasn’t for the odd angle that the weight of the helmet was pulling his head in as he slept. He’d fallen asleep in the cargo hold of the ship, claiming that he didn’t want to ‘go to bed’ and just wanted a nap until he heard from Karga about the bounty he was hunting. But the way his neck was bent, he looked almost like it was going to snap off and all you were thinking was that it would make him more comfortable to be helmet-less.  

You’d tried to wake him, waiting for any sign of life to indicate that he’d woken up but it was clear that his intention to nap had been overruled by his deep exhaustion as he didn’t stir even slightly. So, you tilted his head back, just enough to be comfortable, and carefully began to slip the helmet up.  

He hadn’t woken up when you’d jostled him but you should’ve known that the moment the helmet passed his chin, he was wide awake, grabbing your wrist with one hand and his blaster with the other, holding it out before he even realized that it was you holding the sides of the helmet.  

“Din!” You fell back off your knees, letting go of him quickly and trying to yank your hand away. He relaxed the blaster though he kept your wrist in a tight grip.  

“Why were you touching my helmet?”  

“You looked uncomfortable, I was just...trying to help,” you replied, the last part of your explanation said through gritted teeth as you tried and failed to pull your hand away from him. “Let go of me!” Subconsciously, you knew that Din would never do anything to intentionally physically harm you but you also knew that he was more than capable of ending someone’s life, had seen it plenty of times, and the irrational fear that he was going to squeeze your wrist until it ripped from your arm outweighed the loving husband you knew all too well.  

He released your wrist and stood swiftly, towering over you as you scooted back against the other wall. Without another word, he headed for the ladder and the cock-pit, the sound of the doors closing echoing in the otherwise quiet of the hull. You knew he was pissed and, you thought, rightly so. You should’ve left him to wake up with a stiff neck and not bothered with trying to help if he was going to throw a tantrum. Even if you knew exactly why he was angry and understood how full justified it was. It felt easier to blame him for his outburst than to fault yourself for doing something that you knew would upset him.  

You considered staying down in the cargo hold, maybe locking yourself into the small space carved out for the two of you to sleep. You could wait for him to feel guilty for manhandling you and come down to apologize though that could take cycles. If there was any species in the galaxy that you knew of to hold grudges, it was your Mandalorian. There was no telling when you would be done this hunt and off-world and you certainly didn’t want him going back out there being miserable with you.  

The only solution was apologizing, as much as you didn’t want this to be your fault. Your footsteps felt heavy on the ladder, reluctant to cave...maybe you were just as stubborn as he was.  

“Din-” you called through the door, cutting yourself off. You weren’t entirely sure what else you could honestly say aside from sorry.  

“Karga should be coming through with a transmission soon.” His voice sounded from the cock-pit, empty of any real emotion. It was the way he talked to people when he was schooling his feelings.  

“Din, we should talk.” You insisted. “I’m sorry that I tried to take your helmet off, I know it’s important to you-”  

“Do you?” He asked, the modulator practically unable to hide the emotion that time.  

“You know that I do.” You replied, stepping back when the door to the cockpit opened. Din was still sitting in the pilot’s seat, his back to you still. “I wasn’t trying to undermine your-”

“Then you should’ve left my helmet alone.”  

“Would you stop cutting me off and let me explain!” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and glaring at the back of his beskar helmet. “You know that I have never done anything to disrespect your creed Din. I know I took you by surprise but it was honestly innocent...you looked uncomfortable. I tried to wake you up first.”

Din remained silent after you finished explaining, fiddling with some buttons to seem like he was ignoring you and you stood there behind the pilot’s chair in the cockpit, waiting for him to say anything at all. Finally, as Karga’s transmission came through, you left, heading back down into the hull of the ship.  

You knew it was a dangerous thing to be alone down there on your own, still angry, just running over the events that’d taken place. You weren’t sure there was any other way to have the conversation, you certainly couldn’t make Din listen to you. It wasn’t until the sound of his boots on the ladder echoed through the hull that you looked up from your bed.  

“Are you leaving?”  

“Karga sent me more reliable coordinates for the bounty.” He replied, opening the weapons closet.  

“So that’s it, we don’t have any conversation? You just leave?”

“I’m not sure what you expect me to say.”  

“We took vows Din. Do you really think that after all this time I would violate any part of that?” You asked, “I know I shouldn’t have tried to take your helmet off but please, just don’t leave like this.”

Din sighed and it crackled through the voice modulator. He took the few steps forward to where you were standing, placing one hand on the back of your neck and guiding you so that your forehead met his helmet, the cool beskar chilling your warm skin. You closed your eyes, hands finding his sides and clutching the soft fabric of his top.  

“I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you.” You said, eyes still closed.

“I know.” He finally said. Carefully, Din untangled himself from you. “I’ll be back in three days.”

[bestiesenpai]

Lout - Naoya Zenin

Y’all ever seen that movie bad teacher with cameron diaz that would be me as a teacher lol also Naoya is a third year 18+ all that good jazz fun fact I’m actually allergic to minors so yeah even mentioning them breaks me out into hives, it’s disgusting they’re disgusting, would not recommend. 0/10 stars on google review and yelp also femme reader 3.3k words

Content warnings: noncon + dubcon, age gap(reader is obvi gonna be older than naoya lol), teacher x student shit, degradation, choking, noncon video taking, biting, spanking, not a mindbreak necessarily but there’s hints of that here

There was a problem child in your senior class and you weren’t even the main teacher. Stuck as a teaching aid until you could get full certification, it wasn’t even you that really had to bear the brunt of this student's bad behavior should the principal ask. Yet somehow, it was your duty to get him into line before he graduated in a few months.

Naoya Zenin couldn’t even pretend to care about his highschool reputation. All he focused on was being top of the class and making sure everyone knew who exactly was in charge. At an elite private school where his family had been generous donors for generations, Naoya’s behavior was almost expected.

Until he nearly put another student in the hospital after a fight. That was the final straw for disgruntled parents and students alike, causing a massive uproar and demanding action. And of course that call to action fell on your shoulders.

“Seriously? They stuck me with a fucking aide?” Throwing open the door to the office space assigned to you in the meeting, Naoya glared at you. It wasn’t that he particularly disliked you or anything, but he felt slighted that the school didn’t send a real teacher to talk to him.

“Have a seat, Naoya.” Standing up from the desk, you motioned to the lone armchair in the room. Walking in and slamming the door behind him, Naoya rolled his eyes as he flopped into the chair.

“Let’s make this quick, I’ve got a dive team meeting soon.” Looking out at the courtyard below, Naoya squinted against the harsh afternoon sun coming in through the windows. He wasn’t concerned with this meeting at all, wanting it to be over so he can go and impress some Olympic team scouts.

Clearing your throat awkwardly, you rustled the papers on your desk. There were pages of notes on what you were supposed to say, how you were supposed to say it and a few forms Naoya had to sign as well, stating that he’d be on his best behavior until graduation.

“Naoya, you know why you’re here.” You started, unable to meet his pointed gaze as it flicked over to you. “You’re behavior has gotten out of hand and-”

“So what?” Letting his head loll back, Naoya shrugged.

“And you need to be held accountable for your actions.” You pushed through the interruption, feeling your cheeks heat up in indignation.

“Yeah? My family’s had the dean in their pocket since this school was founded, I doubt there’s much I need to be accountable for.”

“You can’t throw money at everything, you know?”

“Why do you think I take judo?”

“Naoya, please.” Pinching the bridge of your nose, you mimicked him for a moment and leaned your head back. “We’re supposed to be having this meeting to reform your behavior. You did a really bad thing, you nearly killed that other student.”

“Reform? The board sent you to reform me? That’s a fucking laugh if I’ve ever heard one.” Letting out a boisterous laugh, Naoya slapped his knee. “How are you going to change me when you can’t even look me in the eye?”

“T-that’s not important.” Embarrassed, you forced yourself to make brief eye contact with him before shuffling your papers around again. “Look, can you just let me say what’s on these papers? Then you can sign them and be on your way.”

“I don’t think I will.” Crossing his arms, Naoya had the nerve to stretch his legs out and prop his feet up on the desk.

“Naoya-”

“I still think it’s hilarious that you’re here of all people. I mean, just look at you!” Gesturing vaguely to your form, Naoya laughed again. “Not even a real fucking teacher yet. Why don’t you go back to the little corner office you have and let the grown ups handle the big stuff?”

“I’m older than you!” This was bad. He was trying to rile you up and it was working. The control you already didn’t have on the situation was getting worse by the minute and both you and Naoya knew that the power balance between you was heavily skewed in his favor.

“Really? I couldn’t tell, you’ve got about as much gusto as an infant.” Giving you a once over, he sneered. “The only thing going for you is your looks and honestly, they could use a little work.”

“Hey!” Now your face was really on fire. Chuckling at your reaction, Naoya sat up a little straighter.

“Don’t get so upset, I know a pair of twins that would be more than willing to help you improve.”

“Can we just focus on the reason we’re here?” You wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow you whole. The chances of saving this meeting - and your dignity - were slim to none, but you still had to try.

“Right, right, this nonsense about ‘reforming me’.” Using heavy air quotes, Naoya dragged his feet off the desk and let them land on the ground with a loud thud. Taking another look out the windows, he started to undo the tie around his neck.

“Yes. Now, you’re going to sit there and just listen, okay? It’ll only take a few minutes, then you can go on about your day.” You were foolish to believe that you could possibly do anything to Naoya, let alone change his mind on something like this. All the high hopes you’d scrounged together before this meeting were utterly crushed when Naoya stood up.

“No, you listen.” In one fell swoop, Naoya pushed all the papers off the desk, waiting as they all fell to the ground and drinking in your shocked expression. “It’s almost insulting that you think you have any control over this situation, let alone me.”

“Sit back down, Naoya.” Your voice shook terribly as he rounded the desk. You weren’t able to push your chair away fast enough, and he was able to grab onto the back and spin you to face him.

“But teacher, I don’t want to.” He mocked, wasting no time in grabbing you by the throat and forcing you to stand. Clawing at his hand was no use, Naoya’s strength greatly outmatched yours and in just a few moments he was able to manhandle your arms behind your back and use his tie to bind your wrists together.

“Let me go, Naoya!” Thrashing against the desk you were now leaning on for support, a sense of dread filled you. Even if you managed to undo the tie, there was still the issue of actually getting out of the room and away from Naoya, and if his ease in handling you told you anything it was that that task would be impossible.

“Ya know, (Y/N)- can I call you (Y/N)?” He had a stupid grin on his face, pushing you to lean more on the desk as he stood in front of you. “You’ve talked a lot about reform and changing my behavior, but the only one I see here in need of an attitude adjustment is you.”

“Naoya!” Horror ripped through you as he yanked your top open, popping the buttons on your blouse and letting out a whistle at seeing your bra.

“(Y/N), I think you’re violating dress code right now.” Clicking his tongue, Naoya pulled your bra down as far as it would go. “I’ll have to give you a demerit.” Keeping one hand on your throat, Naoya pinched and twisted your nipple between his fingers.

You wouldn’t know it, but Naoya’s heart was beating wildly in his chest. The rush of power he usually got from presiding and dominating the other students was nothing compared to the power he felt now. This wasn’t even something he dreamed about doing, but you’d just given him the golden opportunity to really test his power at this school.

Lurching forward, Naoya sunk his teeth right below your jawline, somewhere he knew you’d have a hard time covering up the mark. The pained squeal you let out went straight to his head and right between his legs, making him bite you in another place and suck harshly on the skin.

Rutting his hips against your thigh, Naoya groaned as he trailed his mouth down your neck, leaving deep teeth marks that he knew would sting when you were alone at night later. Putting one of your nipples in his mouth, Naoya rolled it between his teeth and let drool drip out of his mouth and down your skin.

“Stop it, Naoya! Let me go!” There were strained tears in your eyes that refused to be blinked away. A flurry of slurred protests left your lips as his hand tightened on your neck, enough to have you gasping for air.

“Not until I teach you a little lesson.” He growled, leveling you with a single look. Keeping his grip firm until your eyes rolled back in your head, Naoya let go when he was sure you wouldn’t try to speak again.

Coughing and spluttering, there was little you could do with your fuzzy brain to stop Naoya from turning you around and bending you over the desk. Your face pressed into the hard surface and the wood dug into your face and hips as they were pushed forward.

Grabbing onto your bottoms, Naoya pulled them down until they were at your ankles, unceremoniously ripping off your panties and no doubt shoving them into his pocket. Your heated skin was exposed to the air of the room, making goosebumps pebble on your flesh.

“Ow!” The first slap to your ass was hard and unforgiving, making the tears in your eyes finally fall. “S-stop!” You tried to move your body away from the impending pain but it was no use, Naoya hit your other cheek almost as soon as you started to move.

“What’s wrong, teacher? Never had a bit of corporal punishment?” Laughing haughtily, Naoya grabbed your stinging skin in his hand.

“Ow, ow- N-naoya please, let me go!”

“Not a chance!” Slapping both cheeks in tandem, Naoya could feel the adrenaline going through him. There was no limit to what he could do in this moment, he could walk away and leave you like this, stranded for someone to find. Or, and he liked this option more, he could keep going, and save a few keepsakes for himself.

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, Naoya opened the camera with no hesitation. Taking a video of your heaving body, groping your ass and hips, spreading your cheeks apart to reveal your asshole, Naoya tried to keep the groan coming forward low.

“W-what’re you doing?” You could just barely see him out of the corner of your eye, and your blood ran cold upon realizing what he was doing.

“Say hi.” Shoving the camera in your face, Naoya grabbed your chin to keep you from turning away. “Smile for the camera, (Y/N), don’t cry!”

“No, no, no…” Your career is over. Your life is over. Everything you’d worked so hard for, your education, this job - it was going to be taken away if Naoya decided to share the video. You’d be blacklisted from ever working in a school again and you would definitely face legal trouble for being in this situation with a student.

Leaving you for a moment, Naoya propped his phone up on the windowsill, making sure the camera was capturing the both of you as he went back over. Giving a cheeky little wave to the camera, Naoya turned his attention back to you.

Pushing a hand between your legs, Naoya chuckled darkly at the slick that met the tips of his fingers. It was a miniscule amount, but enough that he could mock you over it. Dragging his fingers through your folds, he presented the fingers to you.

“Who knew Ms. (Y/N) was such a fucking slut?” Rubbing his fingers together, Naoya held his hand up to the camera. “Ms. (Y/N) likes it when I’m rough with her.”

“No...no I don’t.” Sniffling pathetically, you shook your head as best you could.

“Don’t lie, the proof is right here.” Wiping his fingers across your cheek, he made a show of pushing your legs further apart and putting his hand back on your cunt. Pinching your clit, Naoya bit his lip as you let out a high pitch whine.

He knew he’d meet too much resistance if he tried to shove his cock in straight away, so Naoya took it upon himself to prep you a bit. Rubbing your clit in tight circles, he leered over you and watched as you struggled to keep whimpers at bay.

“Don’t be shy, let the camera know how much you like this. We already know how much of a slut you are.”

“I don’t- I don’t like this.”

“Hm? Then why are you getting wet?”

“T-thats-” He had you beat there, the glide of his fingers was getting easier and a distinct wet sound was starting to take shape.

“No need to be shy, teacher. You can tell me you’re just a dumb fucking slut.” Pressing his lips against your ear, Naoya looked at the camera. “I know you see the camera, say it nice and loud for me.”

“No.” Shaking your head, a sharp cry ripped through you as Naoya hit your thigh. From the force of his slap you knew there’d be a hand printed welt on your leg.

“Say it.”

“I-I’m a- a dumb fucking slut!” You sobbed and the strength nearly left your legs entirely. If not for Naoya holding you up you would have tumbled to the floor in shame.

“Now was that so hard?” Standing up straight, Naoya was done stalling. Pushing a finger inside you, he deemed you ready enough to take him and undid the belt on his pants, letting them fall to his ankles.

Taking a second to himself, Naoya ground his clothed cock against your body. This opportunity was something to cherish and he was going to savor every moment of it. Taking a deep breath as pleasure made his spine ripple, Naoya pushed down his underwear and grabbed his cock.

“Teacher, I have a bit of a problem, won’t you fix it?” Naoya teased, rubbing his cock along your slit.

“Wait Naoya, you need protection.”

“Shut up. You’d be lucky to bear a child with Zenin blood, so count this as a gift from me to you.” Putting the tip in, Naoya let his head fall back and gaze down his nose at where your cunt was already sucking him in.

Ignoring your protests, Naoya pushed his cock in all the way, quickly bottoming out and nestling his hips snugly against yours. Planting his hands on the desk to steady himself, he had to take a few deep breaths before beginning to move again.

Putting a hand on the back of your neck to keep you from moving too much, Naoya pulled his hips back, looking at the way his cock glistened with your slick. Breathing hard through his nose, he pushed back in and started a steady rhythm.

“Shit, you’re so tight.” He grunted behind clenched teeth, the hold on your neck getting tighter as he focused on moving his body and not cumming too soon. The clap of his hips against your ass was music to his ears, a sound Naoya was sure not to forget any time soon.

The shame of being fucked by a student was heavy enough on your mind but the shame knowing you were starting to enjoy it was even worse. Keeping your eyes tightly closed, there was little you could do as Naoya pounded into you, the full length of his cock hitting places inside you that hadn’t ever been touched before by previous partners.

“Fuck!” The shout that came out of you was unrestrained, you couldn’t contain yourself as Naoya put his fingers back on your clit. Humiliation covered you like a thick blanket, almost choking you as much as Naoya was.

“I knew you’d come around, (Y/N). No one can resist a Zenin.” Smirking at your scrunched up face, Naoya wrapped his hand fully around your throat and pulled you up until your back was nearly flush with him.

The new angle had a loud moan coming from you and Naoya was close to cumming as well, he could feel his toes start to curl and tingle. His mind was starting to get foggy, and the hold he had was starting to slip from the sweat building up between you.

“Make sure not to waste what I give you, okay? It’s special.”

“You have to pull out, Naoya. You have to!” You couldn’t get pregnant by a student, especially one as high profile as him. Humming against your ear, Naoya shook his head.

“No, I don’t think I will. This is the last part of your attitude adjustment, I need to make sure you remember it.”

“N-naoya- pull out-” You stuttered as your orgasm washed over you, making your back arch and angling your ass perfectly for Naoya to cum as well. Making sure his cock was as deep as possible, Naoya let you fall back onto the desk as he rutted into you.

Biting you on the shoulder one last time, Naoya stayed inside you until his breathing went back to normal and his cock went soft. He had sweat clinging to his body and his uniform was wrinkled beyond belief when he stood up.

Fixing his clothes, Naoya undid the tie around your wrists and watched your arms limply fall to the side. There was no doubt you were sore, he’d given you enough marks to last a week. Smoothing a hand over your still stinging thigh, Naoya stepped away from you and laughed as you fell to the floor.

“Ya know, maybe this meeting was beneficial after all. Wouldn’t you say, teach?” Toeing at your spent body curled up on the floor, Naoya drank you in one last time before going to his phone and ending the video.

Gathering his things and answering a few texts, Naoya grinned as you hobbled to your feet. You avoided looking at him, opting instead to try salvage your own clothes and make sense of the world again. The sun was still shining brightly in the sky and if you held your breath you could hear the distant sound of students on a baseball field.

“Well, I’ll be going now.” Naoya threw open the door, startling you.

“Wait.” Reaching out to him, your eyes went straight to the phone in his hands. “That video-”

“Don’t worry, I won’t show it to anyone, I promise!” Crossing his fingers for dramatic effect, Naoya tucked it away into his back pocket. “Stay out of my way for the rest of the school year, and I’ll delete it when I graduate.”

You couldn’t trust his words and you both knew it. There was no way Naoya would let this be a one time thing, now that he’s gotten a taste for it. He would only continue to take what he wanted from you, making your life hell until he left the school - he wouldn’t let you leave before him.

“Fine.” But it was all you had to go on, so you nodded your head and accepted your fate.

“Fine.” Nodding curtly, Naoya stepped out into the hall with a wide smirk on his face. “See you in class later, Ms. (Y/N).”

[jaehyunfirstlove]

It’s your birthday, make a wish...

Happy birthday to me! Here have some self-indulgent smut (yes it’s inspired by the english version and yes I will be listening to it all day lol)

Genre: smut (18+ only please)

Warnings: oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk, food play, fingering

It was the first birthday you were celebrating with your new boyfriend, Jaehyun, and you honestly didn’t know what to expect. You woke up that morning to see he’d left early, with a cryptic post-it on his pillow that just said wait for it. The doorbell rang then, which made you jump.

When you answered the door there was a package on your doorstep, with no return address. You looked around but there was no delivery-person or vehicle around, and the street was quiet. You brought the package inside and opened it, and gasped at what you saw. The most exquisite cashmere throw blanket lay wrapped in delicate tissue, a note tucked into the folds.

I know you like soft things, and that you get cold when we sit on the couch and watch movies

Happy birthday, love, xxx

You wanted to cry, but at the same time you were shocked at the extravagance. You picked up your phone to call your boyfriend, hoping he wasn’t too busy, but sure enough he answered on the first ring.

“Hey baby, happy birthday!” he sounded upbeat but out of breath, obviously on the way somewhere.

“Hey babe, thanks so much for the present-” you started, but he interrupted you with a joyous yelp.

“Yes! You got it! How do you like it? Do you love it?” he was so excited that you felt bad you were about to chastise him for spending too much money.

“Of course I love it, but don’t you think it’s too much?” you said as gently as possible.

“Nope,” he said simply, “And if you think that’s bad, you’ll hate me because there’s more on the way.”

You were about to protest when he suddenly said he had to go, but not before ending the call by saying “your real present is coming when I get home” in the most mischievous voice.

Over the next few hours he was true to his word, with more presents arriving at your doorstep, every one more extravagant than the one before it. After every one you tried to call him but he never answered, so you sent messages which were also left unanswered.

You loved him but you wanted to kill him, and by the time he came home your emotions were so mixed up you didn’t know whether to get mad or throw your arms around him.

“Honey, I’m home!” he yelled from the front door, so you got up from the floor of the living room where you had been sitting in a daze, surrounded by expensive presents, discarded wrapping paper and ribbons.

You faced him with your hands on your hips, but he was standing there with the most beautiful bouquet of flowers in one hand, and a cake from your favorite bakery in the other, the widest smile on his face. There was no way you could stay mad.

“Goddammit,” you swore under your breath. Those dimples just had to make an appearance and you were putty in his hands.

He just threw his head back and laughed, he knew exactly what an effect he had on you and had no shame in exploiting it. You sighed in defeat and took the flowers from his hands to put in water, and you were about to take the cake but he stopped you.

“I have different plans for this cake,” he said with a wink, “meet me in the bedroom.”

You went to the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase, wondering why he had brought the cake to the bedroom. You weren’t prepared for what you saw when you walked in. The room was dim, the cake in the middle of the bed with the candles lit, flower petals littering the bed around it. Jaehyun was standing by the bed with the most satisfied look on his face.

“Oh my god,” was all you could say, your hand going to your mouth. “Are we seriously eating on the bed?”

He only smirked and motioned for you to come to him. “You’ll enjoy it, I promise.”

You still weren’t sure what he was up to until he took a swipe of the icing from the cake and smeared it on your neck.

“Happy birthday,” he whispered, before licking the icing off your neck, and then sucking on the spot where it had been. Your knees buckled and you gasped, completely unprepared for his assault on your sweet spot. He caught you handily and lay you back on the bed, careful not to squish the cake.

“You better blow out the candles before they set the bed on fire,” he said, in between kisses down the column of your neck. Your mind was already in a haze, his tongue on your skin setting your body on fire, but you managed to turn your head to blow the candles out.

“Did you make a wish?” he asked, his hands moving down your body, trailing kisses as he went.

“Y-yes,” you managed to squeak out, as he got to your waist and toyed with the button of your jeans.

“I hope it comes true,” he said sincerely, sitting up on his heels to pull your jeans and panties off.

You bit your lip as you watched your boyfriend hover above you, staring at you with hooded eyes, lips flushed from kissing your body. Your wish had already come true when you met him.

He licked his lips and took another swipe of the cake with his fingers, painting the inside of your thighs with it. You jolted slightly at the coldness of it, but then he swept in with his tongue and licked it off, first one side, then the other.

“Mm, so sweet,” he said in a low voice, the rumble of it so close to your core you were sure you were already wet.

“Jae-” you gasped, as he got closer and closer, each time taking a swipe of icing and painting your skin with it, as if he were marking a trail to your core.

“You taste so good,” he rasped, as he sucked the icing off your skin, but finally he was there, his hot breath on you, and your knees shook in anticipation.

He didn’t give a warning, just his tongue swiping obscenely up your slit, forcing you to arch your back and grip the sheets, your knees automatically closing in to cage him. He grabbed a hold of your thighs and forced them apart, opening you up to him further. He licked and sucked and you thrashed like you were in pain but in reality, it was the most insane form of pleasure you could ever experience.

You couldn’t stop moaning as he went on, fairly certain you’d lose your voice by the end of the night, but he wasn’t letting up. He groaned as he licked, and you were always thankful for how vocal he was as he ate you out, the combination of his tongue on you and the rumble of his deep voice sending you into a euphoric bliss.

You lost track of how many orgasms you’d had, but then his lips wrapped around your clit and he sucked rather harshly, and you thought you would pass out. He slipped two fingers deeply into you then, hitting your spot over and over again and you came hard, stars exploding behind your eyes.

You tangled your fingers in his hair as you came down from your high, as he planted soft kisses on your overheated skin. He finally smiled up at you, and you blushed to see your juices coating his lips and chin.

“That’s just the beginning,” he said with a sly smile, “we still have a lot of cake left.”

[journen]

rules: tag a few people you want to know better; make a new post, don’t reblog!

Thank you for the tag @demondean-writes !! Sorry it took me so long, I wrote this out a few days ago but didn't manage to finish until now!

Currently reading: Fanfiction lol. Im terrible at reading books… but there are a few on my list. However when the Star Wars: Brotherhood book comes out next month I suspect I will read that!

Last Song: The Chain - Fleetwood Mac. Lol, guess what show I’ve been watching?

Before this tho it was probably something by Tom Cardy. He’s a hilarious comedic Australian musician and his silly songs give me life and are so catchy. Here's one of my faves.

Last Movie: The Bubble. Watched it with my roommate around a week ago, had no idea what to expect other than i recognized some of the actors in it… he liked it, but I’m sorry I hated this movie bahshejsjdvsbeisksjHAHAHAHAH

Last Series: i guess you don’t have to guess lol OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH!!! This is probably my favourite show ever 👀 it’s just so good, wild, SO original and so wholesome!! The show i expected to not like but didn’t know I needed lol.

Gonna put the rest under a cut so this post isn’t terribly long lol.

Sweet, spicy, or savoury?: Def savoury! I dont mind sweets(though there is a limit) and i dont mind spice(also a limit) but you can never go wrong with savoury?

Coffee or Tea: Tea! Strong coffee gives me a headache, and im not always the biggest fan of the taste… so yes tea 👀 especially black tea!

Three Ships: Cody & Obi-Wan, Stede and Ed, and… hmmmmm… I don’t actually get into shipping a whole lot… and I can't think of a third off the top of my head that I ship really hard right now lol.

First ship: Probably Zelda and Link

Currently working on: Some commissions, some ofmd fan art, and getting my drivers license 👀

Favourite Piece of Clothing: My high waisted black button up jeans, this purple fleece puffy turtleneck sweater, or my God of War hoodie 👀

Comfort food: Spaghetti with this specific sauce my dad makes.

Fav time of year: Fall!! Love the colourful trees, not super hot weather, rain, and then we also start to get snow too which is always exciting.

Fav Fanfiction: I read too many to have just one lol!! I made a compilation of some of my favourites a little while back though, Here. However I have read many more since ...maybe I will make another list sometime soon.

Thanks for the tag!! No pressure, if you guys wanna do this too here you go @sunflowersinheaven @starwarsite @agirlunderarock @lightasthesun

[inkykeiji]

if i find a way would you walk it with me

characters: dabi, shigaraki tomura

genre: hmm a healthy mixture of fluff and angst, i think

notes: weeee set in the break my bones but act as my spine universe!! ever wonder how dabi’s apology to the reader goes??? how he ‘makes it up’ to her???? well here u go! bit of tomura at the beginning because i couldn’t help myself yikes!! -sigh- poor dabi <33 | title credit: star shopping by lil peep

warnings: uhhhhh one (1) mention of cum in that very first paragraph (nice) but other than that i think it’s all good??? OH oh + use of the word Daddy (u shouldn’t be surprised by this point lol)

words: 3.7k

synopsis:

“I’m sorry for being an asshole,” he says, and to the untrained ear his voice would sound flat and monotonous, maybe even rude, like he doesn’t give a fuck about the words tumbling from his lips. But you—you can hear it, the sheer honesty embedded in his tone, the rawness bleeding into his voice, the way it’s ever-so-slightly rougher around the edges than it normally is.

      ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰           

It’s rare, nowadays, that you wake up to Tomura still at home. He’s sure to give you goodbye kisses every single morning before he leaves for work—kisses that last way longer than they should, kisses that are slow and messy, that manage to pull little mewls from you and leave you breathless, kisses that more often than not turn into your hands fisting in his dress shirt, little fingers playing with the buttons as you sleepily pull him closer, pleading in soft whimpers for him to fill you with cum before he goes—but he’s rarely still around by the time you actually wake up.

So, naturally, it startles you when you hear his voice, deep and gentle, murmuring that it’s time for you to wake up, princess, as slim fingers brush your hair away from your face, tracing along your cheek and jaw. Rolling onto your back quickly, your eyes snap open and you breathe out his name, heart pounding in excitement as you push yourself up onto your elbows, bleary gaze finding his.

Your near instantaneous reaction pulls a little chuckle from him, crimson eyes shining as they study your face, voice tender when he tells you that he finds your eagerness cute.

A pout settles on your lips briefly at his teasing, evaporating the moment your foggy brain realizes that he’s still home.

“Daddy! What’re you—A-Are you taking me to school today?” you gasp, sitting up a little straighter, a tiny glimmer of optimism in your eye.

And, God, the sheer, unadulterated hope on your face, eyes bright and as they search his, a tentative little smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you anxiously await his answer…it breaks his heart to shake his head slowly—he swears it fucking cracks in his chest when your expression absolutely falls, makes it feel like his ribcage is caving in, yielding under the weight of the ache that settles deep at the very core of his body.

A large hand cups your face, calloused thumb caressing your cheekbone, your eyes closing briefly at the contact, nuzzling into the warmth of his palm.

“No, angel,” he tells you softly, a frown marring his lips. “I have a meeting this afternoon, and it was easier to take the morning off and work from home,”

It’s only partially a lie—he does have a meeting, some fancy lunch with pharmaceutical distributors interested in investing in the drug they’re currently developing—but the ‘work’ he’s doing from home would technically be more productive if done at his office.

Really, he’s worried about how things might go with Dabi. If things get worse, there’s a chance he might just bring you to the stupid lunch with him instead, university be damned.

But you—you can’t help the sudden onslaught of tears that spring into your eyes, emitting a quiet, hurt sound that you nearly choke on as your chest hitches with a tiny sob, head nodding jerkily. Tomura coos, forehead wrinkling in concern as large hands find your hips, pulling you onto his lap and cradling you to his chest.

You shouldn’t be this upset. You know you shouldn’t—not over Tomura not being able to take you to school, and not over Dabi’s sharp words from yesterday. No, Dabi’s words shouldn’t even matter to you, shouldn’t mean anything at all…so why does dread flood your body at the prospect of seeing him, of being stuck in a car with him for a good half hour, at least? Why does it feel like your heart’s turned to corrosive acid, eroding everything around it, when you consider if he actually meant what he said, if that’s how he truly feels?

“I don’t wanna see him, Daddy,” you mumble into his shoulder, eyes squeezing shut tightly against the inexplicable fresh wave of tears the mere thought affords you.

“I know, baby,” Tomura says softly, fingers trailing up and down your spine. “I know,”

He doesn’t want to think about why Dabi’s words, that one simple sentence, have you so torn up.

Nor do you.

       ✰          ✰          ✰

Dabi arrives just as you’re finishing your breakfast, switching between fork and pen as you annotate a last-minute reading for school.

The entire atmosphere morphs the very instant he steps foot in the penthouse, and you swear you can almost see the tension in the air, heavy and suffocating. You wish Tomura were with you, have half a mind to hop up and run into his home office as you glance over at those thick mahogany doors with your lip caught between your teeth, but then Dabi’s heavy footsteps come to a halt, and your gaze snaps back to him.

He stops a few feet away, staring at you with those stupidly pretty sapphire eyes, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his black leather jacket.

His face used to be unreadable, but you’ve gotten better at deciphering his expressions, at decoding them to reveal fragments of his thoughts or mood, since you began spending more than eight hours a day with him.

So you know what it means when his jaw clenches twice (annoyed and dreading the interaction), when his front teeth nibble at the inner skin of his lip (unsure and nervous), when he readjusts his stance, nudging his feet just a little further apart (anticipating a verbal blow).

Placing your pen down on your textbook, you turn on your barstool to look at him fully, arms crossed over your chest and legs crossed at the ankles.

You steadily hold his gaze, and he briefly wonders if you’re expecting an apology, what Tomura told you about their discussion late last night, if Tomura told you about their discussion late last night.

“Hey,” he says, wincing at how gravelly his voice sounds and clearing his throat.

A beat of silence passes between you.

“Hi,”

“About yesterday…” he begins, eyebrows pushing together as he trails off, exhaling a harsh breath through his nostrils.

God, he fucking hates this. He hates that he spent most of the morning, the drive to and from going to get your apology gift, rehearsing what he was going to say, hates that it completely vanishes from his mind the moment he sees you, glaring at him in expectation or apprehension—he’s not sure, he can’t tell.

He hates that this is stupidly difficult—definitely more difficult than throwing an apology and gift at you should be—can’t fucking stand the incomprehensible feelings swirling around in his chest, the ones that make him feel like he’s inhaling smoke, choking on air, like he can’t manage to get enough oxygen into his lungs no matter how deeply he inhales.

He swallows, throat dry and scratchy, runs his tongue along the front of his teeth, and tries again.

“About yesterday,” he repeats, more sternly this time. “That was—I probably shouldn’t have said that,”

And the face you make as the word probably leaves his lips—features crumpling and contorting, your mask of passivity disintegrating to reveal pained eyes and a little pout—has him quickly backtracking before he even realizes what he’s doing.

“Definitely—I definitely shouldn’t have said that,” his chest heaves with the force of a heavy sigh, raking a hand aggressively through his hair. “I didn’t mean it. I, uh, I promise,” his eyes bore into yours, his stare so intense it takes everything in your power not to look away.

It’s unsettling in the very least, to hear him this unsure of himself. You think you might even be able to detect the smallest hint of a tremble to his voice, but it only seems to be audible on certain words.

It makes your heart ache in the most inexplicable way, bottom lip jutting out further as your pout deepens. Really, you think you should still be furious at him. Really, you wish you were. You shouldn’t be feeling sympathy for him, not after the way he’s treated you the past few weeks. You shouldn’t have to resist the urge to run to him, to take his face between your hands and tell him that it’s alright, it’s fine, you forgive him—anything just to stop the way his voice quivers ever-so-slightly on the word promise, anything to eradicate the melancholy in his eyes.

“Look—what I’m trying to say, I guess, is—”

The tiniest, softest little mewl sounds from his jacket and he looks down sharply, scowling at it. Eyebrows knitting, you laugh a little, head quirking to the side in confusion.

“Do you…Do you have a cat in your jacket, or something?”

Dabi sighs, shaking his head and murmuring something about how this was totally not your cue, furball as he holds his worn leather jacket open, revealing a small kitten stuffed into one of the inner pockets. He fishes it out gently—it’s so tiny that it fits in the palm of his hand—and holds it out to you, a peace offering.

“I’m sorry for being an asshole,” he says, and to the untrained ear his voice would sound flat and monotonous, maybe even rude, like he doesn’t give a fuck about the words tumbling from his lips. But you—you can hear it, the sheer honesty embedded in his tone, the rawness bleeding into his voice, the way it’s ever-so-slightly rougher around the edges than it normally is.

You blink rapidly, shaking your head in disbelief with an odd little smile on your face. “Is it—Is it for m-me?”

Dabi rolls his eyes, but there’s a smirk on his face. “Of course, stupid,”

A surprised giggle escapes your lips as you jump up, rushing forward to take the kitten from him and cradling it to your chest, cooing softly. Dabi thinks it’s one of the sweetest things he’s ever seen, entirely powerless to stop the tender look that settles in his eyes as he observes you.

A thick, silky red ribbon tied in a large obnoxious bow adorns the kitten’s neck, a small tag attached to it with Dabi’s messy handwriting scrawled across it: I’m sorry for being an asshole. It’s fucking cheesy, cliché as hell, and you love every single thing about it.

“It’s uh, a Maine Coon, I think,” Dabi shrugs a little, hand rubbing at the back of his neck unsurely as his eyes dart away. “I paid a fucking fortune for him,” he says with a small self-deprecating smirk. “Three times the goddamn regular price,”

Your head snaps up, wide eyes finding his as the kitten gnaws on one of the drawstrings of your—Tomura’s—hoodie. “What?”

He shifts a little under your intense gaze. “Well, yeah, he technically belonged to someone else. Y’know how with those fancy breeders you gotta fill out those massive application forms and then wait for like, two years and all that bullshit,” he waves a hand in explanation as his voice trails off.

“Y-You paid six thousand dollars for this cat?”

“Just over,” he nods. “Plus a forty-five minute argument with the breeder, all for that damn furball, so you better fucking appreciate him, cause that guy was a jackass,”

Silence blankets the room again. You’re looking at him weirdly, and it’s starting to make his skin crawl, anxiety beginning to rise in his throat as he stares back at you, subconsciously holding his breath. Are you still angry? Do you not like the cat, was it the wrong breed? It was a cat you wanted, wasn’t it? Was this too stupid? Was it too much? Was it not enough? Tomura’s frequent yet random gifts are hard to compete with, but, fuck, he tried his best. He wanted to get you something that he knew you really wanted—he could’ve sworn he’s heard you go off on a tangent about how much you love cats, how you’ve never been allowed to have one before, at least three times in the short time he’s known you. He considered getting you the standard luxury shit women are ‘supposed’ to like, or whatever—he isn’t really into that gendered bullshit—but Tomura spoils you with these things so often and, well, they didn’t really feel like an apology.

Tingles flood your veins, feeling like sparks are coursing through your entire body, the thought of someone doing something so—so considerate making you feel giddy at first, then guilty. How could you not believe him, not believe his apology is sincere, when this gift proves to you just how attentive he actually is? That he doesn’t simply tune out your mindless rambling as he drives you to school, or when he lets you rest your head against his thigh after a long day? You’ve lamented to Dabi countless times about how you’ve always wanted a kitten—a Maine Coon in particular—and, knowing it’s the one thing Tomura hasn’t gotten for you, wouldn’t get for you…

Hastily placing the kitten on the island, you leap up, moving so quick he barely has time to register what the hell’s going on before you barrel straight into him, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly. The force of your unexpected hug causes him to stumble back a few steps, knocking a soft “Oof,” out of him.

His body freezes as you press up against him—you’ve never been this close before. A hand slides up his neck and into the hair at the base of his scalp—an automatic reaction, something you’re so used to doing with Tomura that it’s become second nature now. You don’t even realize you’re doing it.

But Dabi does.

Your touch burns, fingertips searing into his flesh in the most exquisite way, has him instantly craving more as his head droops just a little further, allowing you more access to move, your fingers instinctively combing through the soft, inky hair at the back of his skull. He wants to feel your touch all over his body, branded into his skin. Hours from now, he’ll still be able to feel it, still be able to feel the scorching warmth from your little hands scathing his flesh, still be able to feel your little fingers tangling in his hair.

Your sweet scent invades the space around him, overwhelms his senses, and he idly wonders if you taste as sweet as you smell, if the rest of your skin, your body, would feel as scalding as your hands do against his bare skin, if—

You squeeze yourself closer, body pressed flush against his, and his mind finally snaps into action, recovering from his initial shock and wrapping both arms around your waist, responding to your squeeze with one of his own.

“Thank you so much, Dabi,” you whisper, lips grazing his neck as you speak, an involuntary shiver coursing through his body. “I already love him,”

“Am I forgiven, princess?” his voice is low, rumbling in his chest and reverberating off of yours, chin resting atop your head.

A pause.

“Yeah,” you nod, eyelashes fluttering a little on his skin. “I—I’m sorry, too,”

“You don’t—”

“No,” you cut him off softly, and he can feel you nuzzling your face against him shyly, his arms squeezing you again in silent encouragement. “I overreacted. I just, um,” you stop, swallowing thickly as you struggle with the words. “I—We were making progress; or at least, I thought we were making progress—What I mean is, I just want t-to be friends with you,” you admit quietly, thankful that your face is buried in his chest, hiding your burning cheeks from his eyes.

He doesn’t respond—not with words, anyway. He doesn’t need to—his actions speak louder than words ever could. Lips press against the crown of your head, first gently, then firm, scattering a few kisses across your scalp.

The kitten knocks your pen off the island, it’s clattering against the hardwood startling the two of you, and you reluctantly break apart. He thinks it should be awkward—No, it should definitely be awkward, when he just dropped several unwarranted kisses to the crown of your head—but it isn’t. He waits for it to come, surprised when all that seems to remain is that same pleasant warmth as he watches you scold the kitten playfully, bending down to pick up the pen and gently tapping it against the kittens nose.

Your giggles, ringing out around the empty penthouse, are the most precious sounds he’s ever witnessed. Thoughts invade his mind, belatedly realizing that he’d do just about anything to hear you giggle like that again, soft and innocent and full of delight. The unfamiliar feeling of contentment settles in his chest, makes it swell so much it’s almost painful, thrumming through his veins and alighting his body.

Later, he’ll be pissed at himself for letting his guard down so easily, for completely losing control of his thoughts and actions, for becoming so fucking soft around you. But for now, he allows himself to bask in the feeling, just for a few moments before those heavy mahogany doors inevitably creak open.

“What should we name him?” your eyes are bright as you back at him, a cute excited smile on your face, lashes fluttering a little as you wait for his answer.

We. We.

And he hates the way his heart skips a beat at that one, tiny two letter word. He hates the way it makes his stomach swoop, makes more unknown feelings—sensations he’s never experienced before—explode in his chest, hates the way that stupid little word pulls a large, genuine smile from him entirely without his permission, a chuckle of disbelief passing through his lips.

We.

“I dunno, princess,” he responds gruffly, finally finding his voice.

“How about…” you stop, humming and closing an eye as you think, little tongue poking at your cheek in concentration.

Dabi isn’t sure he’s ever seen a more adorable sight in his entire life, and he has to physically restrain himself from marching right up to you and kissing you until you can’t fucking breathe, heels digging into the hardwood and hands curling into trembling fists as his body goes rigid.

“Isaac? Or, oh! Clarke?”

Isaac Asimov or Arthur C. Clarke, two of his favourite authors.

And, fuck, he can’t help the hearty laugh that bubbles up in his chest at the realization, pleasant tingles of warmth shooting through his veins again—more intensely this time, feeling like tiny shocks bursting throughout his body, his whole figure buzzing, high off your presence.

“Both are cute,”

“Yeah, but do you have a favourite?”

Later, he’ll lay awake in bed tonight, sheets cold and empty as he listens to the muffled sounds of Tomura’s ridiculously massive bed slamming against the wall while he forces the most beautiful sounds from your lips—later, Dabi will think about that sentence, those seven words, uttered so gently, so sincerely from your soft lips as you stared at him in earnest, genuinely interested in his answer. Later, he’ll think about why his opinion matters so much to you—if his opinion matters to you, or if he’s just desperately hoping it does, if he’s overthinking this entire situation, why the name of a dumb overpriced cat matters this much to him…

“I like Isaac,”

Your eyes soften, smile stretching even wider as your gaze flits to the tiny fluff ball now curled in your lap, small hand petting its head gently as it begins to fall asleep.

“Yeah,” you murmur, watching your hand’s rhythmic motions, the kitten beginning to purr loudly. “I like Isaac, too,”

Tomura reemerges then, both of your gazes snapping towards him. He observes the two of you, scarlet eyes slow and careful as they scan the situation, finally landing on the small ball of fur sleeping soundly on your thighs. There’s an odd look in his eyes—something you’ve never quite seen before, and it makes your heart drop.

“Look, Daddy,” you say softly, holding up the sleepy kitten to show him. “Dabi got me a kitty!”

The weird, undecipherable look on Tomura’s face evaporates in an instant as his eyes connect with yours, features softening.

“That’s great, baby,” he says as he walks towards you, coming to stand behind you and placing a large hand on your head. You hum a little, eyes closing at the contact. “Looks like we’ll have to go out tonight and get kitty supplies, huh,”

Eyes snapping open, your head falls back, resting against his stomach as you stare up at him. “Me and you? Just us?” he nods, and you gasp, face absolutely lighting up. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” he laughs a little, fondness settling in his eyes as he gazes down at you. “I’ll pick you up after class today, and we’ll go straight away. We can’t let poor Isaac go hungry now, can we?” Ruby eyes flit up as he speaks, hardening as they connect with sapphire. He holds Dabi’s gaze until the other man nods his understanding.

You’re so excited you don’t even realize you never told Tomura the kitten’s name. But it doesn’t matter—not in that moment, anyway, not when he tells you he’s decided to take the rest of the day off after the lunch meeting, to spend it with his baby and his baby’s baby. Not when you haven’t had a night alone with him in what feels like forever.

Tomura should be happy that it all worked out, right? He should be glad that he doesn’t have to find other arrangements, should feel relieved that you and Dabi smoothed things over, shouldn’t he? He is, isn’t he?

“Go get your schoolbag, sweetheart,” he instructs softly, tapping you on the nose. “You’ll be late if you don’t leave soon,”

You obey immediately, slipping off the barstool with the kitten cradled in your arms, explaining that you’re going to quickly ‘kitten-proof’ Tomura’s absurdly large bathroom and lock Isaac in there. For his own safety while you’re away at school, you say.

He watches you go, waits for you to disappear around the corner, before turning back to his colleague.

“Really Dabi, a fucking cat?”

Dabi bristles, exhaling slowly as he holds his boss’s gaze, and raises his eyebrows. “But she’s happy, isn’t she?”