#it's softboi hours my dudes

[fluent-in-lesbianism]

Help I’ve been dating women in earnest for the first time and it’s buck wild. I went camping out of state as a first date. On the two hour drive home she tried to diagnose me with an attachment disorder because I wasn’t really vibing with her. I went on an eight hour date to our local bog. Someone saved in my phone as “butch adjacent milf professor” keeps texting me interesting plants to identify and I can’t remember who she is. I’m technically bi and might fuck a bi softboi weed man next week but I’m not sure even a weird and gnc dude could be as interesting as these lesbians. To clarify though I haven’t gone on more than two dates with anyone because I get scared and act weird probably? And maybe never learned to flirt because men mostly think anything is flirting? I’m scared but also having a hilarious time. Also a 24 year old baby lesbian fresh off her first heartbreak is after me but I’m 29 and that sounds young as fuck. Help me obi wan you’re my only ho

So first, you went camping in the woods with a stranger. And not just any woods, but woods in a completely different state than the one you're registered in. If local police were lucky enough to find your body before the animals got you, the interstate jurisdictional issues alone would've for sure slowed your chance of ever being identified. Please don't ever do that again.

Then second date, same scenario except now you're in a fucking bog. You're at zero chance of being found now because nobody knows what a bog even is! The only Ho that coulda saved you in that scenario is known bog-enthusiast Hozier.

[not-sewell]

i'd had this idea floating in bits and pieces in my mind for weeks now and i've now been able to string it together with some semblance of coherence, so here we go:

[i don't even know what this is classified as but it comes under soft hours, i guess?]

Foiled Date Plans Leading to Time Spent Better.

i imagine that the LI and the detective haven’t been able to hang out, go on a date, for ages because neither of them could find the time for it, both of them being swamped with work. so when the opportunity presented itself, they jumped at it.

only for things to swiftly go downhill at different times on the day of their date

N and the detective found that they both were to get off their duties early one day and quickly made their plans for a nice, evening together. the detective chooses to go big this time: booking a reservation at a fancy restaurant, where they could enjoy good food, sip on some wine and listen to some smooth music. yeah, that’d do. it's all pretty smooth-sailing until their plans are foiled by a pile of unfinished paperwork that they had promised to help Tina get through. as much as they would rather be someplace else, they decide to help. they’re pretty committed to fulfilling their promise. not that they can deny Tina when she’s making those puppy eyes at them anyway. making a quick call to N to let them know what’s up (and promising to be there on time), the detective gets to the paperwork. it is only when N appears at their door that they realise how late it actually is. well, shit. there is no way they'd be able to make it to the restaurant on time. they should've quit while they were ahead. but they didn't, and they may have just ruined their date plans and this day just sucks. and it's all their fault. N finds a way to fix this before the detective spirals further into whatever headspace they were getting into, though. soon, the couple is at the detective's home, cooking a homely (yet fancy, of course) meal, N pulling the detective by their hand to sway to a light melody of jazz music playing in the background, wrapped in each other's arms – whispering sweet nothings, singing softly. well, okay, maybe the day doesn't suck as much anymore.

F is all too excited to finally get to go out with the detective. the detective had a day off, so they thought of showing F around the town: the places that the detective had discovered over the years, places that one wouldn’t necessarily include in their ‘Places to Visit in Wayhaven’ list. it seemed like a cheery day – maybe they could rent bicycles and go biking around town. this was a good idea. it felt nice to be biking again – it had been a while since they’d done it. the wind gently making its way through their hair brought a soft smile to the detective’s face. but it was only a few minutes before F decided they could ride faster, and the detective followed, the Wayhaven tour long abandoned. the wind in their hair getting progressively less gentle seemed to have an effect on the detective. F’s whooping also helped, maybe. soon, the two are speeding past people, laughing, low-key trash-talking each other and— this was not a good idea. the first thing the detective registers is the nearly blinding pain in their arm and F’s extremely concerned eyes staring down at them. any movement that shifts their position sends a searing pain up and down their forearm. well, fuck. soon, they’re at the doctor’s clinic, having received medical attention. F is uncharacteristically quiet, throwing worried glances their way. it obviously takes a lot of reassurance from the detective to quell F’s worries. then a long pause. and then laughter – belly laughter that only seems to get louder. the walk back home is now far lighter and less painful than it would’ve been. F offers to stay the night, of course. what follows is a day full of F fussing over the detective’s condition, and lots of ice-cream, popcorn and trashy Netflix movies. sure, the injury part sucked but it mattered far lesser.

M has probably rolled their eyes for the hundredth time now. the detective refuses to accept that they've fallen sick. it doesn't take M their hypersenses to recognise what is beginning to sound like the start of rales in the detective's breath. it's ridiculous, the way the detective refuses to acknowledge that they're unwell, especially with the amount of effort they've been putting to even sit upright. it takes a big coughing fit from the detective for M to put their foot down and take them back to the detective’s bedroom. yeah, no, M doesn't give a shit about the date anymore. they'd like the detective to be very much alive, instead, thank you very much. glaring the detective to bed, they run their hand more fondly than they expected over the detective’s head before making their way to the kitchen and call F to relay some solid, 'how to care for a sick partner' advice from N: hot and cold compresses, some VapoRub, soup and maybe a warm glass of milk with turmeric in it and lots of care (which they would take care of by snuggling with the detective, should they ask). the detective wakes up early next morning to find M asleep on the bed – seated next to the detective, having leaned their back on the headrest – their hand in the general area of where the detective’s head is. the detective had never really pinned M down as someone who could be so tender but hell, no one’s complaining.

A admits: they were really looking forward to the date. they didn’t know what the detective had planned – they wouldn’t tell them (maybe it involved wine-tasting?) – but it would’ve been nice to finally get to spend some time with the detective. anyway, that doesn’t matter right now, does it? they were here on a stakeout in a hilly area with probably the worst partner ever: the detective. it’s got nothing to do with the detective’s skills or attitude – they’re more skilled and dutiful than most. it’s the effect their presence has on A: their focus on the scene before them is off-kilter and they’re certainly not thinking about their mission as much as they would like to. they chide themself for being so distracted. they really need to learn to maintain their focus regardless of the company they have (just the detective but okay). gah, they need to pull themself together. even as they chide themself, they find their gaze drifting towards the detective. again. this time, they find the detective’s eyes on them too. this has been going on for a while and they both know it needs to stop. and yet, they just cannot seem to. at least the evening’s been very uneventful. it’s close to dawn when N and M join them to take over. the couple is on their way back to the Warehouse when the detective gasps softly, the way they do when they think they've got a great idea (which is usually true, but they don't necessarily need to know that). they turn to A with a bright smile. "i know of a spot," they say, "come with me!" as they pull A by their hand. they're right on time to catch the most beautiful sunrise A has seen in a long, long time. and the detective turns to look at A just in time to see the softest, most carefree smile grace A's beautiful face. they're almost too lost in their thoughts to catch A whisper a small 'thank you', interlacing their little fingers together. the day is instantly brighter.

[lookwhatilost]

joshua is hands down the worst person i’ve ever dated by a fucking mile. and what makes him even worse is the therapized softboy nice guy delusion he’s laboring under, because you can’t tell a person like that anything

like, me? this entire blog is a testament to everything wrong with me. i’m cold. i’m defensive. empathy is something that so does not come naturally to me and this has given me a variety of problems. i’m crude. my coping mechanisms are beyond maladaptive. i could yap about it for days.

so last night. story time, not clickbait.... so i have a lot of beef with twelve-step programs. i avoided them specifically when i was in active addiction because i didn’t want to deal with hearing tons of other people bitch and moan about their cravings and thoughts when dealing with my own shit was bad enough. i disagree with the philosophy of “stew in misery, if this works somehow, god gets the credit. not you.” esp since addicts tend to have issues with feelings of agency in general and the admitting to powerlessness thing is very “lie down and rot”

there’s also an issue with there being no distinction for violent people ordered there by the courts and just normal people who want to get help, due to the anonymity thing. and some people in that aforementioned category are, shocker, abusers who meet their victims at 12 step meetings. this is documented. i shared an article related to this on my CF ig story and said it was worth checking out (it’s called “twelve steps to danger: how alcoholics anonymous can be a playground for violence prone members” and it’s long but you should still read it)

and my thing has never been “i’m going to take a massive diarrhea shit on anyone who this has helped”. i just think it’s fucked up and absurd that this non-evidence based program is so ubiquitous to the point where it’s taboo to say “this has some pretty glaring flaws” and i think robust addiction treatment options are a necessity. if aa and na have helped people, i have no intention of taking this from them. but iunno, maybe the program with an extremely low success rate has some tactical errors or something.

i actually am in the process of publishing research about this, if you can believe it. so it stands to reason that i have some handle on what i’m talking about here.

anyway joshua took this and ran with it and spat out an excruciating defense of this shit, in spite of conceding that i was “80% right”. we argued about this for almost two hours.

so like he’s never been to a twelve step meeting before. this is relevant context. and when i was trying to make the case for my points and he was doing the same, he brings up, unprompted, that he had a heroin problem way back when.

and i didn’t address it because i didn’t know what to say. plus i dont know what this is meant to convey if you’re talking about a program you were never in? like i haven’t personally participated in 12 step stuff but i’ve taken people to meetings before when i was researching this. it just seemed like emotionally provoking me into conceding my point. and i’m so fucking uncomfortable with that level of manipulation. 

he also lashed out at me for responding “coldly” to this confession. because, you know, arguments are a good and healthy time to confess extremely personal shit. not when you feel comfortable enough with someone to bring up the dark agonies of the past. no no no. that’s fight leverage.

this guy sucks so much ass, dude. idk how people can act like this and justify it to themselves.

[tellywoodtrash]

immj2 04.11.20 lb

ok speed-watched the 3rd nov ep and here are the highlights:

mummy and kabir ka freakout about ragini being alive.

someone in a mask (siya??????) knocking already paralysed riddhima out with chloroform when she tries to make a call to kabir.

kabir sneaking into the mansion and riddhima passing on a message to him in the form of a conversation with vansh, during which she challenges V that she'll steal ragini away from him.

kabir looking 👌🏽👌🏽👌🏽 hey boy are you a family pack of haldiram's aloo bhujia coz you AN ABSOLUTE SNACCCC. (i think there was a convo between him and mummy ki she has to help riddhima so that riddhima can get him to ragini. but i was too busy staring at his neck/chest coz......... tharak. 😜😜😜)  

vansh digging a grave in his backyard at midnight like the fucking weirdo he is, and riddhima being like smh really, i got horny for THIS dude???????

some cocky talk by vansh next morning about how his mission for revenge is finally gonna come to a head today and how riddhima should be happy coz this means that they can start their new lives together. followed by some truly savage dahi-cheeni eating that grossed me tf out. this show really doing The Most to make this hot dude absolutely repulsive to me.

vansh instructing ishani to keep an eye on riddhima to make sure she doesn't leave the house today.

ok now that you're caught up, onwardsssssssssss!

———————————————————————

*pink panther theme music playing*

mummy distracting ishani from noticing riddhima in the most Boomer way possible; phone mein app download nahi ho raha, mere liye kardo plssssssss.

“teen saal pehle jo kaam humara fail ho gaya tha woh waapas aa raha hai.” 0.0% surprising revelation that they the ones who tried to murder ragini.

mask person has knocked riddhima out YET AGAIN. THE SECOND TIME IN LIKE, 12 HOURS. DUDE. THIS CAN'T BE GOOD FOR HER HEALTH. Y'ALL FUCKING CRAZY.

oh thank god, dadi is finally back. not that inki kuch khaas chalti hai, but at least these three raisinghania hellions will stop constantly giving riddhima mini-comas every 6 hours, on the dot. yes, i'm fully including siya in it, i'm absolutely sure that she's the mask person now. idk why, but i am.

mummy is like oufff isko nikalna tha aur behosh ho gayi aur ab yahaan baithi juice pee rahi hai manhoos.

riddhima like yup, there's definitely another person here other than ishani who's helping vansh. YEAH IT SIYA YOU DUMBASSSSSSSS.

riddhima doing bukhaar waali acting and i'm sure has hacked the thermometer hum hain raahi pyaar ke style to show temp of 103.

a doctor has been called and kabir has been informed ki riddhima is awwal number ki nikkami jisne saara plan fail kiya hua hai.

but behen is super duper determined and convinced that she will beat vansh no matter what. yeah sis. beat him. beat him over the head with a danda.

lmaoooooooooooooo look at these two smirking at each other over their shady shenanigans. the real love story of this show.

“aise important mauke waste karna hi uska talent hai.” i truly live for mummy's verbal evisceration of riddhima.

kabir sure ki this is part of riddhima's plan. get you a man like kabir who has fulllllll confidence in you. not one like vansh who constantly underestimates you. oh, and paralyses you.

ishani is truly Forever Mood.

gaadi ruk gayi. smirky boys not smirking anymore.

snort. someone’s been watching a little too much ipk on hotstar.

riddhima has picked up a trick from the raisinghanias. aur do issko ideas.

“i'm so proud of you riddhima!!!!!!!!”

i love his snarky asssssss so much. 

SHE WAS RUSHING AROUND SAYING TIME NAHI HAI TIME NAHI HAI HAR EK MINUTE KEEMTI HAI RAGINI KO BACHAANE KE LIYE, BUT NOW SHE HAS TIME TO STAND AROUND AND IMAGINE HER TWO BOYTOYS DEBATING ABOUT PYAAR AND FARZ. GODDDDDDDDDDDDD

waise bhi, do hotties ko saath mein imagine karr hi rahi ho toh bhi yeh lameass debate? wouldn't be me. my imagination would have them shirtless and wrestling for my hand in marriage.

BITCH EVERY MAN IS A UNIQUE NIGHTMARE IN HIS OWN WAY; STOP WASTING TIME OVER CHOOSING ONE OF THEM AND JUST GET YOUR ASS MOVINGGGGGGGG

rrahul's angry acting is unbearable.

doctor has to be a dumbass not to ask her why it took her HALF AN HOUR to just give one injection. and what's with the drastic change in eye makeup situation?!?!!?!?! the patient gave you a makeover?????

ishani yeh ghatiya blue lenses hatao toh tumhe dikhe jo mummy ko dikha.

idhar they've literally been standing around doing jack for one hour. in this time, literally 40 autos have passed him and he didn't think to hail even one of them.

EVEN NOW HE'S SCREAMING AT THE CARS TO STOP AND NOT THE EMPTYASSSSSSS AUTOS. ARE YOU ALLOWED TO BE A MAFIA LEADER OR WHATEVER THE FUCK HE IS THAT MADE HIM SO GODDAMN RICH IF YOU'RE THIS FUCKING STOOOOOPID????????

pachchis minute to reach aaaaaaaaaaaaaand...........

yup. this is the choice he makes. wonderful.  

riddhima’s new gig as an uber driver has commenced with an auspicious customer.

RACE SAANSON KI.

RACE CHAAHAT KI.

RACE DHADKAN KI.

MY HEART IS RACING ON!!!!!!!!! (because i am very very unfit and have severe anxiety.)

watch out milind soman, you got competition in the hot-dude-running-for-absolutely-no-good-reason department.

ishani knows bhaabi sus as hell and damn near breaking the door down.

but dadi came and took her away. but not before they peeked in and saw SOMEONE in bed and assumed it's riddhima. raisinghanias really got shit for brains.

meanwhile..........

yeah, this looks like it's going as well as i expected.

he just hurt his leg and then when he stood up the pant leg still spotless white.

if kabir wasn't a murderous psycho who wanted to murder ragini himself his righteous anger seeing her haalat would totally turn me on rn.

LMAO WHAT, YOU WANT HER TO TAKE RAGINI OUT WHILE YOU HANDLE THE NURSE?!?!?! HOW DOES THAT MAKE SENSE HOW IS TINY BIRD LIKE RIDDHIMA SUPPOSED TO SMUGGLE AN UNCONSCIOUS WOMAN HER SIZE OUT???? LET *HER* HANDLE THE NURSE AND YOU CARRY RAGINI OUT, YOU FUCKING DUMBASS.

“usse harm mat karna.”

kabir nods yes AND THEN PROMPTLY GOES ON TO SUFFOCATE THE NURSE. MAN, YOU PPL IN THIS SHOW REALLY TAKE UNCONSCIOUSNESS VERYYYYYYYYYYYYY LIGHTLY.

how is ragini's hair so shiny and conditioned and still in the braid after being bedridden for 3 years, when my hair is a fucking chidiya ka ghosla after a half hour nap????

lo, yeh mahashay finally pohunch gaye.

OH SHITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

oh thank god. idk why i'm so invested in kameena kabir getting away with his shit, but i am. i just like him better.

he knows someone is here and made the nurse unconscious. THEN WHY THE FUCK IS HE YELLLLLLLLLLLING AND LETTING WHOEVER IS TRYING TO GET RAGINI KNOW THAT HE’S HERE AND COMING INTO THE ROOM?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!?

pls god can this show free rrahul??? he needs to be in a softboy romantic role where he can flash his puppy eyes and sassy smile. this role is just notttttttt a good fit for him. THIS IS LIKE WHEN THEY MADE OMKARA A CRAZYASS JUNGLEEEEEE IN DBO ALLLLLL OVER AGAIN. IT JUST DOESN’T FIT THE ACTOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LMAO ISKI KHUSHIIIIIIIII TOH DEKHO. truly, nothing makes me happier than a woman who has fucked a man over and made him miserable. and this one toh particularly deserved it also. i know it’s all gonna turn to shit later coz she’ll have ruined some mission that had a “noble” reason behind it, but for now, i’m happy she managed to get at least a small badla for the paralysis thing.

[obligatorynasty]

I’ll Be the Fight to Your Flight, Baby. (Part 2)

Part 1: Here | Sequel: Here  

Read on: AO3 | WC: 18k | Please excuse any typos. 

Main Tags: BadBoy!Tony, SoftBoy!Peter, Highschool AU, NFF, TW:Mentions of Blood, TW:Mentions of Abuse, TW:Bullying, TW:Underage Drinking and Smoking, TW:Mild Homophobia, [see all tags on AO3]

-

~*1*~

Peter didn’t know how to feel.

When Tony threw the cafeteria doors open, the chatter of the room went silent. Though the whispers remained; all gossip about why the school’s most fearsome student was resting his arm around the most fearful student’s shoulders. It was strange for Peter to be the center of attention for something other than ridicule. Along with the shocked expression on Ned’s face, cliques of curious eyes glanced back and forth between the slew of tables. All looks filled with confusion and intrigue and – for a certain pair of brotherly bullies – absolute terror.

All the younger boy had to do was point. And he did, with a shaky finger and wary eyes, directing his unhinged – boyfriend? – to not only the guilty brothers’ table, but to Clint, Natasha, Bucky, and Sam’s as well.

“Is that all of them, baby?” Tony whispered, his face close enough that Peter could feel his warm breath tickling his surely flushed ear. The sensation sent chills down Peter’s spine – but in a good way – like the airy feeling he got in his stomach when Ned and MJ dragged him on roller coasters with giant drops.

Peter gave a demure nod, “Y-Yes.”

Tony’s wild eyes were breathtaking, especially paired with that mischievous grin and the way he cracked his knuckles like warning signs to his prey. Or the way he pulled off that signature jacket and draped it over Peter’s shoulders like he was staking his claim. Or the way he so nonchalantly quipped about not wanting to ruin the leather with some degenerate’s blood, so hold this for me, baby. I’ll be right back.

And Peter could do nothing but stand there – engulfed in the leather that smelled of cigarettes and pure, unfiltered Tony Stark – watching as the notorious bad boy reminded each and every student in the cafeteria of just how fearsome he could really be.

***

Tony’s rampage began with one stunned Clint Barton, ripped from his seat by a forceful grip on his collar. The irony of being thrown against the very spot he tripped Peter lost on him. Likely due to the wind being knocked out of his lungs as he careened towards the off-white linoleum tiles with a hefty thud and, subsequently, a symphony of startled gasps and excited chants of Fight! Fight! Fight!

Now, Clint wasn’t someone who would take a beating lying down. Peter had seen him fight before; win against people bigger than him and intimidate people smaller. So, when Tony dropped down and managed to get in three punches so quick and so forceful that Clint couldn’t react, Peter’s jaw dropped. Tony’s promise of not making it too bloody consumed by sight of Clint’s very bloody nose.

“What the fuck, Stark?!” It was Natasha – poor Natasha – trying to stand up for her partner in crime, not knowing she would be next on the rampage list. The second she stood from her seat, Tony released his hold on Clint’s collar, leaving it stretched out of place and watching Clint pitifully grasp his nose in pain. Then, Tony stood, facing Natasha head-on and flashing his smug, bad boy grin.

“What the fuck, Romanoff?” His words were laced with belittling humor and a wild brand of confidence that Peter couldn’t fathom.

“Don’t do that.” Natasha glared, her brows furrowing at Tony’s complete lack of fear towards her. “What the fuck did he do to piss you off?”

“He didn’t piss me off. Not directly at least.” Tony’s laughter was unnerving, “You see, your boy here managed to piss him off,” He pointedly said, as he gestured over to Peter, who was still standing by the doors with a bewildered look on his face. “And he belongs to me now. So, let’s say when he’s pissed, I’m just pissed by proxy.”

“You’re a fucking psychopath.” Natasha’s words were sharp, but Tony was sharper.

“Let’s ask then,” Tony leaned forward against the table, his palms down and his knuckles up like he was brandishing a bloodied sword, staring at Sam and Bucky with his intimidating glare. “Why don’t you two tell me, hm? Did Barton do something to Parker?” His question was brimming with venom, and thus, met with zero hesitation.

“Yes, he tripped him.” Sam stood, pulling Bucky to his feet as well and expressing so much fuck-this-shit-I’m-out energy that Peter had to stifle a laugh. “Me and Bucky are really sorry for our involvement in all of this, and we would very much like to keep all of our bones intact. Thank you.” Sam looked to Natasha, “Nat, you are on your own with this one.” With that, he was fleeing, towing Bucky behind him as they made their way out the cafeteria, muttering something along the lines of: People really out here fucking around with Tony Stark like he didn’t send just someone to the ER last year. What a bunch of idiots.

“Fucking cowards.” Natasha spat, rolling her eyes and giving an angry sigh when Tony smirked at her. “Fine!” She exclaimed, turning to Peter with forced sincerity. “Sorry,” She said flatly, and with a peeved grimace, before turning back to Tony with an expression that showed just how thoroughly done she was with the whole situation. “Happy now?”

But Tony didn’t answer her. Instead, he turned to Peter and smiled as he repeated Natasha’s sentiment. “Happy?”

Peter froze for a moment, his frazzled mind whirring into overdrive, trying to comprehend the weight of Tony’s question. It was like a wild animal asking the leader of its pack for permission to hunt. Like Peter’s answer was the only thing standing between Natasha and the full power of Tony’s wrath. So Peter nodded and mouthed a nervous, “Yes.”

“Wow, how lucky for you,” Tony said, giving Natasha a look so dark that it sent chills down Peter’s spine in the bad kind of way. “Don’t waste it, Red.”

Tony’s threat lingered in the way he carelessly stepped on Clint’s struggling frame as he made a beeline to his last targets: Thor and Loki.

“Don’t bring your violence over here, Stark.” Thor weakly warned, flinching up from his seat like a cornered animal, posturing in a final attempt to scare off its predator. His reaction was perplexing, especially since he was bigger than Tony. He seemed to have more muscles, more stature, more height, yet he still looked frightened. So, even though Peter’s natural response was worry, Thor’s fear and Tony’s unfazed smirk eased his concerns.

“I’ll bring my violence wherever I damn well please, Point Break.” Tony taunted, wasting no time in shoving both Thor and Loki’s lunch trays off the table, gaining him a resoundingly loud and drawn out Daammn! from the surrounding crowd of students.

Loki stood up next, posturing just like his brother, “You think we’re scared of you, Stark?”

“Oh, you will be.”

With that, Tony’s rampage continued. But this time, it was less controlled threats and more all-out brawl that summoned a flock of rowdy students, eager to watch the carnage.

Before the crowd grew, Peter managed to see Tony land two satisfying jabs to Loki’s face that left Thor scrambling to retaliate. It was all too surreal; the savage look in Tony’s eyes, the speed of his punches, the way he bobbed and weaved around his opponents’ hits like a trained boxer. All the people egging on the fight like spectators at the Colosseum; encircling them like Thor and Loki were the poor fools thrown into the lion’s den and Tony was head of the pride.

Soon, the fight was impossible to see. The students were so enthralled that they stood on tables to witness it. And Peter knew from the screaming and the general disregard for school policy that it would probably go down as one of those legendary Tony Stark fights. Peter’s body buzzed with curiosity. He wanted to watch too, but he found himself unable to move.

Remember, Peter didn’t know how to feel. His eyes traveled to Clint, struggling as Natasha helped him to his feet and clutching the spot on his abdomen that Tony used as a stepping stone. It was brutal, and Peter knew that. He knew he shouldn’t feel glad that Clint was hurt. He shouldn’t get excited about Sam and Bucky scurrying away like frightened mice. He shouldn’t enjoy the scared look in Thor and Loki’s eyes. He shouldn’t – he knew that – but he did.

Because Tony Stark was fighting for him, and that sort of thing just goes to a person’s head.

Peter was pulled from his thoughts by Ned, who was pushing through the crowd to reach his friend. “Dude! We need to go! Someone said Principal Fury was called.” He didn’t stop. He just grabbed Peter’s arm and dragged him through the cafeteria’s double doors.

The hallway was also beginning to swarm with students – kids leaving their classes in droves, trying to witness the fight for themselves. “Okay, so since when are you and Tony Stark friends?”

“Since like a half-hour ago?” Peter shyly admitted as Ned stopped with him in the hall, standing to the side so they didn’t get trampled by the rush of students.

“What?!” Ned practically screamed. “He’s beating the shit out of Loki and Thor right now.” He stressed, “For you, dude! For you! And you’ve only been friends for a half-hour?!”

“Actually, ‘friends’ might not be right either.” Peter nervously laughed, scratching the back of his head and giving Ned a guilty look.

“Dude, what happened?” Ned’s eyes went wide. “And please don’t say you sucked his dick for protection.”

“Whose dick are we sucking for protection?” It was MJ, exiting the flow of students, throwing her arms over Peter and Ned’s shoulders, interjecting on their conversation with her classic witty smirk.

“Tony Stark’s,” Ned laughed.

MJ joined the laughter, “Is that why Peter’s wearing this?” She tugged on the leather jacket still draped over Peter’s shoulders. “Did you swallow?”

“Oh my god! MJ! I-I didn’t s-suck his dick!” Peter’s face flushed red in his embarrassment. “I just- I mean, I guess…um- I belong to him now.” His voice cracked because that felt weird to say. He belonged to Tony Stark – someone that he barely knew – yet, instead of his usual urge to flee, his body craved to stay.

“I see,” Ned nodded. “First, the brutish show of strength, then-”

“The dick sucking.” MJ joked.

Peter crossed his arms, “No! I- He just- He made me cry – well, not directly – but then he patted my hair and k-kissed my forehead and, suddenly, I was just his, okay?”

“I think it’s romantic,” Ned nodded.

“I think it’s problematic,” MJ deadpanned.

Peter just shrugged, inching away from MJ’s hold. “W-Well, I think it’s my decision.”

“I’m just looking out for you, Pete.” MJ became defensive. “We can joke about sucking dick, but Tony Stark is fucking dangerous. We all know it. May I remind you that he broke that Hammer kid’s bones last year, he constantly skips classes, and he smokes.” She punctuated each point with a count of her fingers and ended her rant with a firm, “Say it with me: pro-ble-ma-tic be-hav-iors.”

“Okay, scratch the romantic thing,” Ned shook his head and stepped closer to MJ, physically signaling his position on the matter. “MJ has a point, dude. I’m on her side.”

“There are no sides!” Peter furrowed his brow and let out a frustrated huff. “You guys just didn’t see what I saw in him.”

“Dude, do you even hear yourself?” MJ rolled her eyes, “We’re talking about Tony – probably stabbed a guy – Stark. What could you have possibly seen in him besides gratuitous violence and penchant for starting shit?”

“I saw how kind he really is!” Peter exclaimed, furiously shaking his head, dismissing MJ’s level-headed red flags. Sure, Tony was violent, but somehow, Peter knew he must have a good reason for it. “I saw it, MJ. How caring he is. How he isn’t this fearsome bad boy everyone makes him out to be.”

And Peter’s sentiment was sweet – naive, but sweet – but, unfortunately for him, it was immediately undermined by one student’s passing words: Did you hear? Stark broke Loki’s arm.

“Hey!” MJ called out to the student. “Is that true?”

“Yeah, there’s a video and everything.”

~*2*~

After the chaos died down and students were herded back into their classrooms, Peter was sent to the Principal’s office. He didn’t know why – well, that’s not true, he had a guess – but he didn’t want to overthink it. Everyone was already looking at him funny. Whispering fables under their breath: That’s the kid that Stark broke Loki’s arm for. Wonder what he had to do to put Stark on a leash. Bet a little slut boy like him would put out for anyone. Shush! He belongs to Stark now. Don’t talk to him. Don’t let him hear you. He’ll sick Stark on you. Rumors were spreading. Fast. Painfully fast.

And the jacket wasn’t helping either. For a fleeting moment, the leather was comforting, but now, it just felt heavy. Yet, even as he ripped it off his shoulders, he couldn’t bring himself to leave it behind in the classroom. It was Tony’s after all. So, as Peter traveled down the hallway, he held the leather close to his chest.

The administrative office door was propped open, and the scene inside was shocking, to say the least. Sitting in a row of chairs, outside the Principal’s door, were a handful of Peter’s bullies; an annoyed Natasha, a bruised Clint, a bloodied Thor, and Loki, whose arm was tucked against his chest in a sling. Describing them as ‘pissed’ wouldn’t do their collective expressions justice, and – holy shit – did Peter want to run. But he couldn’t. So he stood by the door, clutching Tony’s jacket like a safety blanket. Awkwardly, and beneath the unsettling glares of his bullies.

As the minutes ticked by, Peter’s anxiety ran high. Principal Fury’s assistant was busy phoning a list of names – seemingly all parents arranging for their child’s pick-up. Peter wondered if he was on that list too? Did someone name him as the cause of the fight? Did Aunt May already know? God, he wanted to leave.

Then, Principal Fury’s door swung open and Tony stepped out beaming, despite the bruises on his cheek or the blood drying on his knuckles or the rip in his t-shirt. “Fury wants you next, Red,” Tony flashed the same unnerving smile as before. And, even though Natasha rolled her eyes, she still nodded to him before disappearing into the office.

Tony turned his attention to Peter next, “Hey, baby.”

Peter blushed at Tony’s nonchalant use of the pet name. He wasn’t used to it yet. In fact, he wasn’t used to Tony yet. In terms of confidence, Peter and Tony were on opposite ends of the spectrum. Tony knew what he wanted and expressed it, powerfully and without pause. Peter couldn’t even handle the pressure of wearing a jacket.

“Come out here for a sec,” Tony threw his arm around Peter’s shoulders and, despite Peter’s resistance or the protests of Fury’s assistant, he managed to lead him out of the office.

“T-Tony! Wait! S-She was upset. I should go back in.”

“She’ll get over it.” Tony shrugged and held out his hand expectantly.

“Um, right! Here you go.” Peter mumbled, glancing over the older boy’s battered hand before giving him the signature leather. “A-Are you okay? Your hands are-”

“I’m fine.” In one motion, Tony threw on the jacket. “I’m about to leave. Come with me.”

“I-I…um, but s-school isn’t- I was called-” Peter stammered, staring at Tony’s shoulders and the way they seemed broader in the leather. The jacket somehow perfected his strangely attractive – disheveled and slightly bloody – aesthetic, and Peter couldn’t look away.

“You were called? Oh – shit – I thought you were in there for something else.” Tony sighed, “Fury’s probably going to send you home too. I’m sorry.” Another rare Tony Stark apology.

“I-Is it because of the rumors?” Peter whispered, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“Rumors?” Tony’s brow raised as he placed a finger on Peter’s chin and tilted it upward to lock gazes. “What rumors?”

Peter gasped at the contact. Tony’s hand felt so warm – or maybe it was the heat flushing Peter’s face – he didn’t know, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he just let Tony touch him; let him idly drag his fingers across the length of Peter’s jaw; let him caress the underside of Peter’s chin; let him ghost his palm around the contours of Peter’s throat; anything. And judging by the satisfied grin that appeared on the older boy’s face, he was pleased with the pliant behavior.

“Don’t get distracted, baby,” Tony smirked, bringing his hand upwards to cup the side of Peter’s tinted face. “What rumors?”

Peter squeaked – yes, fucking squeaked – and who wouldn’t? Tony Stark was touching him and talking to him in that suggestive tone. And Peter didn’t think that simple touches like those could feel so good. Yet, here he was: feeling good. He took a shallow breath and answered, “P-People are saying that you- um… broke Loki’s arm for me.”

“What?” Tony’s grin fell, and so did his grip on Peter’s chin. “I did not break that bitch’s arm. He’d be in the fucking hospital by now if I did that shit.” Tony scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I just dislocated it a little, then I put it back – sometimes I don’t even do that – but trust me, if I wanted it broken, it would be broken.” Then, he paused, his eyes gleaming with a chilling excitement and the corner of his lips mischievously turning upward. “Why?” He whispered, “You want me to break it?”

Peter didn’t know how to feel. The calm way Tony said that should have alarmed him, but instead, the younger boy found himself mirroring the older’s excitement. His mind wandering through the possibilities of playing gatekeeper for Tony Stark’s ferocity. His body buzzing from its inherent power because Peter was fucking tired of being bullied in the high school cesspool. So, of course, the thought of enacting that vicious power gave him a heady kind of rush, but still, it was scary.

So Peter resisted it, shaking his head, “No, I-I don’t think that would be okay.”

“Whatever you say, baby.” Tony shrugged and shoved his hands into pockets. “But my offer stands.”

Peter gave a small nod and a hesitant, “T-Thanks.”

“Anything for you.”

Peter blushed at Tony’s casual and blind devotion. He couldn’t understand it. How this boy whom he never spoke a word to could risk himself so readily, especially if it landed him in Fury’s office.

“Wait, so if Principal Fury isn’t sending me home for the rumors, t-then why-?”

Tony let out a spiteful tsk, “Fury’s got this zero-tolerance policy for fighting. Everyone involved is going home on a day’s suspension except for you Stark. You get a week.” He dryly mocked Principal Fury’s voice.

“A week?!” Peter repeated with a gasp. “That’s terrible.”

Peter was right. It was terrible. Who would protect him from the scourge of retaliation? Sure, his bullies seemed to fall in line now – with Tony’s threatening presence ever-looming – but what happens when he leaves? Peter didn’t want to think about it.

“Y-You can’t leave for a week.” Peter’s eyes burned a little, the fear of being without Tony’s protection slowly seeping out of him and thoughts of taking Tony’s offer seeping in.

“It’s whatever. Even if I was here, I’d skip the classes.” Tony smiled, gently bumping his hand against Peter’s arm. “So, come with me. I promised to eat lunch with you after I cleaned up the trash in there.”

Peter dropped his gaze again, twiddling his thumbs as his nerves bubbled over. “I c-can’t. I w-was called and I don’t- I can’t-”

“Fine, fine, don’t make that face.” Tony brought his hand against Peter’s head, softly carding his fingers through the curls in that same soothing motion as before. “Here,” He pulled his phone from his back pocket and handed it to Peter. “Give me your number. If you get sent home, text me and I’ll come pick you up. Okay?”

“O-Okay.”

~*3*~

Just like Tony predicted, Principal Fury gave Peter a day’s suspension. Mostly because he refused to name the bad boy as the instigator of the fight, which was already a strange ask. As Peter recalled, everyone had a video of the brawl. Everyone. Even Ned and MJ sent him clips of it. Yet, according to Fury, whenever someone tried showing the school faculty the video, their device would be wiped clean by some virus called ‘JARVIS’. So, without any real evidence, Tony was safe from expulsion.

After the meeting, Fury’s assistant called Aunt May. She was upset – and rightly so – promising Peter a stern talking-to, a loss of privileges, and an early curfew for the remainder of the week. Unlike the other parents, she was too busy with work, so she told Peter to walk home and think about what you’ve done, young man. And he guiltily agreed, knowing that Tony would be driving him instead.

With a quick text, Tony was on his way; k baby, b there in 5mins.

Even the way Tony sent messages made Peter feel anxious, and that anxiety followed him down the halls, to his locker, and finally to the front of the school, where Tony was parked and waiting. His car was just like him; sleek and dressed in black with tinted windows so dark that Peter had to be inches away to see inside them. It was expensive too; low to ground, sporty with shiny chrome rims, and branded with a luxury logo Peter’s never seen before. And anybody who was anybody would know that this car was a perk of being Howard Stark’s son.

“Hey,” Tony smiled as he rolled down the passenger side window. “You getting in or what?”

Peter blinked himself out of his drifting thoughts, “Um, y-yes! Sorry,” He mumbled as he fumbled with the car door, threw his backpack into the foot space, and slid into the passenger seat with little to no grace. Noticing the warmth of the car first, the faint smell of cologne next, and Tony’s soft eyes on him last. “Your car is- um, i-it’s nice!” His voice cracked and his gaze flickered around the car, symptoms of the nerves that swarmed his body when his eyes would meet Tony’s.

“Thanks. Stole it from my dad’s garage.” Tony’s honest laughter cut through the nervous atmosphere Peter’s mind was fabricating. “So, where do you want to eat? Pick anything. Let me treat you.”

Peter blushed, his arms instinctively moving around his body in a self hug to soothe his stress. “You don’t have to do that.” He whispered, shaking his head. “You already did a lot for me today, and I- um, I want to treat y-you!”

“Wow, Parker,” Tony raised his brow but grinned, “You want to treat me?”

“Yes,” As Peter’s anxiety eased, his words became clearer. “Anything you want – well, maybe not anything – I guess anything under thirty dollars would work. What would you like?”

Tony let out a light huff of breath that ended in a sly grin that was nothing if not suggestive. “I can think of a lot of things that I’d want from you, baby.”

Tony’s confidence was showing and, just like that, Peter’s stutter was back and paired with tinted cheeks and bashful eyes. His brain processed the flirting but left him without a coherent output, so he settled for a frantic and embarrassing, “I-I-I…um- I- w-what?”

“I can show you exactly what later.” Tony ended it there, seemingly changing the subject for Peter’s sake, but his flirty smile remained. “Let’s just grab some pizza and head to yours. That okay?”

“Y-You want to come over to m-my place?” Peter’s grip tightened at his sides as he rambled. “You wouldn’t like it- I mean, my room isn’t- I’m sort of a nerd, so- No one really comes over, except for Ned and MJ, but they know- I just- I don’t know if you would-”

“Peter.” The smooth way Peter’s name fell from Tony’s lips was enough to silence his apprehensive chatter, but the eye contact was what did him in. “Is that okay?” Tony repeated.

Peter nodded, “O-Okay, yes, but y-you have to leave before seven.”

“Yes, sir,” Tony jokingly said as he revved the engine and pulled away from the school. “But why seven?”

“Oh, um…my Aunt May will be home by then.” Peter sighed. “And she’s pretty upset, so I shouldn’t have company.”

Tony audibly tsked, “Why is she upset? It’s not like you did anything.”

“I got suspended,” Peter stressed, crossing his arms and averting his eyes. “I’ve never been suspended before, especially not for being a part of a fight.”

“Oh, sorry,” Tony quietly said as he clutched at the wheel, keeping his eyes trained on the road. “You mad?”

“No, not really,” Peter shook his head. “Aunt May is mad – and I’m definitely going to get an ear full – but it was worth it. I think.” He explained, “Seeing you fight was- um, it was really cool, like watching a boxing match or something. You seem trained.”

Tony nodded, “Yeah, I kind of have to be.”

“For fights?” Peter questioned, his eyes drifting across the older boy’s scabbing knuckles.

“Yeah, my old man made me take up boxing when I was young.”

“He made you? Did you not want to?”

“It’s not that,” Tony shrugged, ending the conversation like Peter stepped on his toes.

Then, they drove in silence. An awkward and deafening kind of silence – filled with the hum of Tony’s engine and whoosh of the passing scenery – but deafening nonetheless. Tony seemed off, his lips pressed in a hard line and his eyes fixed on the road ahead. The peeved energy radiating off the older boy made Peter feel tense like he was a sweater fraying at the seams. And, despite his best efforts, Peter couldn’t stop the way his body shook underneath that nerve-inducing pressure.

Until Tony clicked on the radio, that is.

Sounds of high tempo drumming, shredding guitars, and strong voices overtook the silence. It was rock ‘n’ roll, and it brought out a silly side of Tony that Peter didn’t expect. As they swerved through traffic, the older boy confidently belted out every lyric, passionately singing at the top of his lungs with a bright smile. Headbanging with each beat, turning to sing to Peter at every red light. One hand atop the steering wheel and the other emphasizing the emotion of the song through a mixture of air-guitar strums, fist pumps, and rhythmic taps on the center console. Needless to say, Peter was sent into a fit of laughter that melted his tension into nothing.

“What?” Tony laughed too. “You don’t like my music, baby?”

“I like it.” Peter blushed and shook his head,  “Led Zeppelin is amazing.”

“Okay, excuse you, we respect AC/DC in this car.” Tony grinned, “I hope your pizza tastes are better than your music knowledge.”

~*4*~

As Tony parked the car, Peter’s heart threatened to beat its way out of his chest. He wasn’t nervous at the pizza place, where Tony’s arm was draped over his shoulders as they ordered, or during the ride here, where Tony’s hand found its way to Peter’s knee. Yet, something about being outside his apartment building forced Tony’s earlier words to the forefront of Peter’s frazzled mind.

I can show you exactly what later.

With something like that hanging in the space between them, Peter didn’t know what to expect.

The smell of Tony’s cologne intensifying snapped Peter from his thoughts. The older boy pulled his key from the ignition and leaned across Peter to grab a cigarette pack from the glove compartment  – and wow, he smells amazing, Peter thought as Tony hopped out of the car. The slam of the door prompting Peter to hastily scramble out of the car as well. He gripped his backpack against his chest with one arm and cradled the pizza box with the other, stepping out into the cool air.

“So, um, this is my apartment building.” Peter’s voice squeaked and he hated it.

“I see that,” Tony smirked, pulling a plastic lighter from his pocket to light a cigarette. “I’ll save my applause for the actual apartment.”

“R-Right.” Peter watched as Tony leaned against the brick of the building. He was handsome, even when inhaling death and sporting bloodied knuckles and torn shirt. “Um…T-Tony?”

“Yeah?” Tony asked as he exhaled a puff of smoke that quickly dissipated in the space around him.

“I- um, what do- are we- why did-” Peter mumbled, his mind cycling through mountains of questions he wanted to be answered but finally settling on, “Why me?”

“What?” Tony gave a perplexed smile as he took another drag and blew it from the corner of his mouth. “I told you already,” Tony took a final inhale of smoke, before flicking the cigarette against the concrete and exhaling a gray, “I like you.”

“B-But why?” Peter pushed.

“Does it matter?” Tony shrugged as he entered the building, stopping to hold the door for Peter, who frantically scurried inside.

“I-I think it does,” Peter added as he led Tony upstairs and down the hall, stopping by his apartment door to reach for his key, but he couldn’t quite reach it with a backpack and a pizza box to hold. “You said I’m yours but-”

Without warning, Tony dipped his hand into Peter’s pocket, slowly and with a gentle drag against Peter’s thigh. The younger flinched, the unexpected contact effectively interrupting all trains of thought, save for the one in charge of his blushing cheeks, and hitching breath, and tensing muscles. And those feelings only intensified as Tony hooked the keyring but left his hand lingering. Using a gentle touch to caress through the pocket’s thin inner fabric and stepping closer, pressing the warmth of his body against Peter’s back.

“You looked like you were having a tough time there, Parker.” Tony’s voice was close enough that his scent of smoke filled Peter’s senses. “Here, let me.” And, as Tony pulled the keyring out and unlocked the door, all Peter could do was grip his backpack a bit tighter and will himself back to a semblance of calm.

“Now,” Tony flashed a knowing grin. “What were you saying, sweetheart?”

And Peter simply shook his head because – fuck – being called sweetheart shouldn’t make his heart do that and it certainly shouldn’t make his dick do that. “N-Nothing, come in.” He whispered and practically dashed into the apartment, distancing himself from the captivating warmth of Tony’s chest.

The apartment was homey; perfectly sized for two with coffee table clutter, arrays of family photos adorning the walls, and faint aromatic remnants of Aunt May’s morning coffee and Peter’s accidentally burnt toast. To Peter, it was warm and familiar, but today, it lacked those relaxing effects because of one curious bad boy’s eyes surveying the space.

Peter placed the pizza box against the dining table, fetched two plates from the kitchen cabinet, and settled in a chair. “So…um- this is the apartment.”

“It’s nice,” Tony said as he gestured towards the photo wall. “My old man hates that kind of stuff.”

“Family photos? Same.” Peter smiled, a light laugh escaping his lips. “May refuses to take those down.”

Tony shrugged as he slid into a chair. “They’re not that bad. That one of you at the science fair is pretty cute.”

“Oh god, not the science fair one. ” Peter mumbled, tipping his face into his hands, hiding his embarrassment. “I looked so terrible that day. No one told me that my hair was sticking up like that.”

“The hair is the best part.” Tony laughed and flicked open the pizza box, grabbing a slice and slumping against the back of the chair.

“Okay, that’s enough about me,” Peter grabbed a slice as well, taking a tiny bite before continuing, “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“I d-don’t know.” Peter glanced at the photos again. “Have you ever done a science fair?”

Tony shook his head, “No, my old man says those are for kids that want to be placated by science, not challenged.”

“Ouch,” Peter jokingly remarked. “I’ve done the science fair every year since elementary.”

Tony laughed, “I’m unsurprised.”

“H-Hey!” Peter giggled. “At least I was doing something. What were you doing?”

“Nothing much,” Tony took a bite of his pizza and fixed his gaze on the floor. “My old man taught me lab stuff, I guess.”

“Lab stuff?”

“Yeah, like coding and shit.” Tony shrugged, “I don’t really talk about it.”

“Coding?” Suddenly, something clicked in Peter’s mind. “Did you code the JARVIS virus that Fury was talking about?”

“Virus?” Tony glanced up. “Is that what Fury called him?”

“Him?”

“Yes, him.” Tony rolled his eyes, but his expression beamed. “JARVIS is my AI.”

“That helps you not get expelled?” Peter smirked.

“He can do way more than that.”

And their conversation traveled from there. Over pizza slices, connecting on nerdy topics like programming JARVIS and the processing power of the Stark lab’s computer. And Peter, knowing the extent of Tony’s truant record, was pleasantly surprised by the bad boy’s brilliance. As their chat shifted to Tony’s delinquency, he talked fights, and scars, and riveting stories involving police stations. Then they tripped through favorite video games, books, TV shows, and movies. Peter explained why lego movies are worth the watch and Tony teased but promised to watch it with him but only if we’re eating popcorn and under a blanket, baby.

It ended once the clock hit five and the pizza box went empty and Peter’s homework could no longer wait.

“That’s fine.” Tony stood, grabbing the empty box and their two plates. “I’ve got this. Go start your homework.”

Peter nodded with a smile, “Thanks.” He grabbed his backpack and started toward his room, but panicked once he opened the door. The realization that Tony Stark would soon be in there hitting his peace of mind like a nuclear bomb. He threw his bag against his desk and tornado-ed around his room, cleaning up his embarrassment one neglected pair of floor boxers at a time. He didn’t need Tony seeing that picture of him at summer camp and he was sure his stuffed bear would forgive him for throwing it into the closet.

“Hey, I left the pizza box by the door, I’ll take it out when I leave so your aunt doesn’t suspect anything- what are you doing?” Tony paused in the doorway, shooting Peter a raised brow and an amused grin.

“H-Homework, obviously.” Peter nervously said as he shut his closet door and awkwardly crossed the room to sit at his desk.

“Is that right?” Tony repeated with crossed arms as he approached Peter, stopping just behind his chair. “Your desk looks awfully empty, baby.”

Peter shook his head, frantically grabbing notebooks from his backpack and placing them onto the desk. “I-It looks fine to me.”

“Sure, Parker.” Tony laughed and leaned forward to drape his arms over Peter’s shoulders, hugging him from behind. “Whatever you say.”

Peter flinched at the sudden closeness, his mind flashing back to his previous concerns about the speed of Tony’s affection. “Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“E-Earlier, I was saying that…um- you said that I’m yours, but what-”

“Peter, I like you.” Tony interrupted, gently tightening his embrace. “Simple as that. I fell for you today, and yes, it was fast – really fucking fast, I get it – but the point is that I fell.” He ended his sentiment with a swift kiss to Peter’s cheek. “Focus on that, baby.”

Peter cursed his body for its constant blushing and quickened heartbeats, but he smiled anyway. “O-Okay.”

After that, Peter did his homework in peace, while Tony resigned himself to the comfort of Peter’s bed, falling into a nap that lasted until the clock hit seven; lasted until Peter was whispering his name to ease him awake; lasted until they were hugging to say goodbye.

I had a great day today, Tony.

Me too, baby.

~*5*~

“I am so disappointed in you, Peter,” May shook her head as she stepped into her work shoes by the front door. This was her fourth parental lecture since yesterday night and it featured all the same points: Fighting? Really, Peter? Really? You’re lucky you got off with only one day of suspension. What were you thinking? You know better than this. No leaving this apartment, understand? I want you to do your chores and your homework and think about what you’ve done, young man.

“I know, May.” Peter nodded. “I messed up. It won’t happen again.”

“It better not.” May sighed, giving Peter a sympathetic smile as she pulled him into a tight hug. “Love you, and I’ll see you after work, okay?”

“Okay, love you too.”

With that, Peter was alone and turning around to head back into his room – resign himself to his punishments, do homework, think about what he’s done – but then, there was a knock. And, like any normal teenager, he squinted at the door as if it was his one true adversary, cautiously stalking towards it to peek through the peephole. Surprised to see, standing just beyond the threshold, a leather-clad Tony Stark.

Peter swung the door open, “W-What are you doing here?”

“Happy suspension day. This is a kidnapping.” Tony smirked, stepping forward to lean against the doorway. “Get your shoes, Parker.”

“My shoes?” Peter stared incredulously at the bad boy. “Tony, I have stuff to do- I can’t go anywhere- I-”

“Did you miss the part about the kidnapping?” Tony brought his hand up against Peter’s chin. “I’ll take you even if you don’t get the shoes, baby.”

Peter rolled his eyes but couldn’t hold back the smile that tugged at his lips or the feelings that tugged at his heartstrings. “O-Okay, hold on.” He ran into his room, donning shoes and a warm baggy sweatshirt. He didn’t know where they were going – with Tony, it could be anywhere – but that was part of his bad boy charm.

“I got shoes,” Peter announced as he sauntered out of his room and back towards the front door. “Now, where are we going?”

“Kidnapped people don’t get those kinds of privileges.” Tony smiled, watching as Peter locked the front door before throwing his arm around his shoulders. “Just follow me.”

Peter let Tony guide him out of the building and to a car he didn’t recognize. A gray sedan with chrome rims and, when the front windows rolled down, it revealed a car filled with people he didn’t recognize either.

They were all teens but not from Tony and Peter’s school. They seemed different; richer. The guy in the driver’s seat was burly with a letterman jacket and an innocent face. The girl in the passenger seat had a perfectly pony-tailed updo and air of class that matched her cashmere sweater. The taller boy in the back was a lot like Tony, sporting a leather jacket and an inherent coolness that made his smile seem sly. The shorter boy wore glasses and a plaid button-up that reminded Peter of himself.

“Took you long enough.”

“And I’ll take longer next time if you keep that up, Happy.” Tony laughed as he opened the backseat door and slid in, motioning for Peter to sit on his lap.

“Y-Your lap?” As per usual, Peter’s voice cracked under pressure.

“Hurry up, new kid, either you sit there or I do.” The glasses-wearing boy spoke with a seriousness that compelled Peter not to dwell.

Peter scooted onto Tony’s lap and he angled himself so that his legs sat between Tony’s and his back was slightly turned towards the door. He tried his best to position himself – modestly? – and prevent any accidental touches, but then Tony’s arms were around his waist and pulling him closer.

“Happy tends to drive a little crazy,” Tony whispered, his voice only inches from Peter’s ear. “So I’ve got you.”

“O-Okay,” Peter blushed as he leaned against Tony’s chest, easing against the warmth and slowly inhaling the fresh shampoo scent wafting from his hair.

“So, are you going to introduce us or should we fend for ourselves here?” The boy with the sly smile spoke.

Tony laughed, “Peter, this is Happy, Pepper, Rhodey, and Bruce.”

“Did he kidnap you all too?” Peter jokingly remarked.

“Basically,” Bruce joined the jest. “A suspension for one is a skip day for all.”

“A Tony Stark creed,” Rhodey said and Pepper readily agreed, saying, “Did you know the T in Tony is the same as the T in Truancy?”

Peter giggled, “Is that true, Tony?”

“No,” Tony smirked, giving Peter a light squeeze that made the younger boy giggle. “They just like me so much that they flock to me. Anything else they say is a lie.”

And as Happy drove, there was more laughter, and faces brimming with smiles, and lighthearted jokes thrown back and forth. It was easy for Peter to find comfort in this space, even while sitting in Tony’s lap. In fact, by the end of the drive, he was leaning against Tony like he belonged there; like sitting in his lap was second nature.

Peter peeked out the window as Happy parked the car. “The park?”

“Best place to loiter,” Tony said as he opened the door. “And smoke.”

“Oh god, remember when we smoked in your dad’s lab?” Bruce rolled his eyes as he hopped out of the car with the others following suit. “That did not go over well.”

Tony shrugged. “Better than how shit with him usually goes.”

Peter tugged on Tony’s sleeve and whispered, “You two were smoking in the lab?”

“Tony!” Pepper gasped, “You didn’t tell him?”

“Full disclosure, new kid,” Bruce smiled as he pulled a vape from his pocket.  “Me and Tony used to fuck – he’s got grade A dick, just so you know.”

Tony laughed and Pepper rolled her eyes. “I’m not as eloquent as Bruce, but Tony and I also used to date.” She pushed at Tony’s arm, “Tony should have told you before dragging you out with us.”

And Peter tried to play it cool. All shrugs and nonchalant expressions of how fine with it he was. Yet, as they began walking the path through the park, he couldn’t stop his mind from playing the comparison game. Pepper was beautiful – beyond beautiful – with long legs, poise, and an immaculate style that made Peter feel self-conscious his baggy sweatshirt. When it came to Bruce, confidence was in endless supply. He was shameless and, after just one conversation, Peter also found out how insanely smart he was. So, needless to say, Peter was feeling pretty low in the self-esteem department.

But leave it to Tony to turn that low into a high. “Walk with me?” He asked, but wasted no time in gathering Peter’s hand in his own. “You seem quiet now. Are the trees not doing it for you?”

“It’s not that. The park’s nice,” Peter shook his head and gently squeezed Tony’s hand. “I’m just too nervous for my own good, I guess.”

“That’s part of your charm, baby.”

Peter smiled, “I-I’m sure you’re just saying that, but thanks.”

“I mean it,” Tony brushed their shoulders together. “But there’s something else, isn’t there?”

Peter’s eyes went wide. “I-Is it that obvious?”

“A little,” Tony explained. “You made a similar face yesterday too. So what’s wrong?” He smirked, the same dark and mischievous smirk as before. “Do I need to put someone in their place?”

“No, I’ll be fine.” Peter laughed and moved to walk closer to Tony. “But um…actually, now that you mention it, can you drop me off at school this week?”

“Sure, not like I’m doing anything. Why?”

“Safety?” Peter shrugged. “I think people might do something to me if you’re not there.”

“Oh fuck, right. I didn’t think about that. Hold up,” He stopped on the path, letting the others walk ahead as he pulled off his jacket and draped it over Peter’s shoulders. “Here,” Tony smiled and cupped Peter’s face in his hands. “Wear this and no one will fuck with you and, if they do, I’ll kill ‘em.”

Peter smiled, but before he could say anything, Tony was leaning in – and holy shit, it was a kiss lean! He panicked and squeezed his eyes shut, his nerves erupting as Tony’s smell got closer and closer and – oh – he kissed his forehead.

The moment was sweet, but quickly soured a random passerby who felt the need to yell faggots!

“The fuck did you just say?!” Tony went from zero to beyond one hundred, snapping on the random man without a second thought.

“You heard me.” The man challenged, “What are you going to do about, huh?”

And things happened fast. Too fast for Peter to process. One moment, the man was standing and the next, he wasn’t and Tony’s fist was the culprit. Again, it was an outburst of violence that left Peter not knowing how to feel.

“Tony!” Peter gasped and reached his hand out, grabbing at the fabric of the bad boy’s shirt in a weak attempt at holding him back. “S-Stop it!” He shakily said, watching Tony carefully as the man scrambled to his feet, running off as Happy and Bruce jogged back over.

“What happened?” Bruce asked, his face full of concern.

“Tony hit him,” Peter whispered as he slowly let go of Tony’s shirt.

And, before anyone could get another word in, Tony was walking off, fuming like a smoking gun that failed to kill its target.

“Tony, man, wait up!” Happy ran after him.

“Don’t mind him. He’s always like that.” Bruce bumped his shoulder against Peter’s. “Either you get used to it or you end up like me and Pep.”

“I don’t want that,” Peter whispered, his eyes locked on Tony and his fingers fiddling with the hem of the leather jacket.

“Don’t want what?” Bruce raised his brow. “To deal with Tony’s anger issues? Same.”

“N-No! Not that.” Peter shot Bruce a stern glance. “I don’t want to be like you and Pepper.”

“Oh, wow! Okay.” Bruce laughed, harder than he has all day. “I can see why Tony likes you.”

“At least one of us does.” Peter trained his gaze on the floor. “I still don’t understand why Tony likes me.”

Bruce shook his head, “Tony is fucking unhinged. He’s a vicious fighter; a delinquent through and through, but he’s also sweet and uncomplicated. If you’ve given him the space to be anything other than, well, that,” He paused, gesturing over to Tony, who was slumped against a park bench with a cigarette perched between his lips. “Then he’ll like you. ”

“What do you mean?”

“All Tony cares about is being understood, and if you’ve given him that, he’ll protect you. Violently protect you..” Bruce placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “The question is whether or not you can handle that violence.”

“He’s not that violent.” Peter pulled his shoulder away, stepping back, his voice becoming taut. “He protected me. He stood up for me.”

“Look, Tony empathizes with people who can’t fight back.” Bruce shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “And sure, at first, you feel like he fights to protect you; to keep all the bad shit away; to stop bullies, but then he goes too far. He loses control and expects you to be his limiter. He wants you to be the one who tells him when to stop and when to go, when to hurt people and when to spare them. I couldn’t deal with that shit and, after everything that happened with Justin, Pepper couldn’t deal either.”

“Justin?”

“Yeah, Justin Hammer, the kid Tony put in the hospital.” Bruce sighed, glancing over his shoulder to make sure the rest of the group were out of earshot before continuing. “Long story short: Justin used to hang out with us but, during some party, he touched Pepper while she was drunk. Pep cried about it and Tony lost it. The next day, he broke both of Justin’s arms, fractured a few ribs, and left blood and bruises everywhere else.”

Peter crossed his arms and spoke under his breath, “Sounds like Justin deserved it.”

Bruce audibly tsked and flashed a knowing look. “That’s why Tony likes you.”

And Peter didn’t know how to feel.

~*6*~

The school day was always the same for Peter – bus, class, lunch, class, bus – and peppered in there was always a good dash of bullying.

But not today.

No, today, he wore Tony’s jacket. It was big on him; the sleeves covered his hands completely, save for his fingertips that peeked out the bottom when his arms were at his sides. The black leather contrasted with his blue jeans and his plaid button-up, but today, he wore it confidently because it was Tony’s way of protecting him.

From the moment Peter got off the bus, the jacket was like a force field. Not only preventing the usual teasing and ridicule from the nameless students but also managing to stop repeat offenders like Flash, who glared at him like he was going to say something but turned the other way instead.

And, with the power of the jacket, came the slight ego boost. The unbothered gait into the school, the comfortable smile as he forged the crowded hallways, the lack of fear, even as he rounded the corner to find Sam and Bucky standing at his locker. They made eye contact and gestured for him to come over and, on a regular day, Peter would probably run and hide; try his best to avoid his locker until absolutely necessary.

But, again, not today.

Today, Peter strolled over to his locker without even an ounce of worry – well, his hands were trembling in his pockets and he was already biting the inside of his lip – but he liked to think he was projecting a calm demeanor. “Yes?” Peter spoke softly, trying to keep his voice steady.

“We wanted to…um-” Bucky looked to Sam.

“To say sorry for everything.” Sam finished Bucky’s sentiment. “And, if you’re interested-”

“Steve is having a party at his house on Friday night.” Bucky chimed in with a smile.

Sam nodded, “And you’re invited, Parker.”

Peter’s eyes went wide. He was invited to a Steve Rogers party? Him; a nerdy, skittish, bullied nobody, who could only ever dream of being cool enough to go to a fucking Steve – famously popular quarterback – Rogers party. Like what the fuck?

“Really? M-Me?”

“Yeah,” Bucky answered, lightly chuckling at Peter’s reaction. “You can bring a friend too if you’d like.”

“You in?” Sam asked.

Peter nodded, his eyes still wide with disbelief but his mind chalking it up to the power of the jacket. “Yeah, I’ll… um- I’ll be there.”

“Great, see you later, Peter.” Bucky waved as he and Sam disappeared down the crowded hallway.

“Okay, but are you actually going?” It was MJ, leaning against the lockers with crossed arms and a doubtful stare.

“MJ!” Peter flinched at her sudden appearance. “You have to stop sneaking up on me like that.”

“Like this!” Ned screamed, making Peter flinch even harder. This time he dropped his textbook and clumsily spun on his heel to face the source of his terror, and it threw MJ into a fit of laughter.

“Dude!” Peter exclaimed with a big smile.

“Sorry, couldn’t help it.” Ned grabbed the dropped book and glanced at MJ. “So, what are we scaring Peter for?”

“He got invited to a party full of assholes.” MJ pointedly said. “And he said he’s going.”

“A party?” Ned raised his brow, ignoring MJ’s concerns and shooting his best friend an excited look. “What party?”

“A Steve Rogers party.” Peter excitedly whispered.

“Dude!” Ned’s jaw dropped, “That jacket must be magic. Can I borrow it for the Calc test today?”

MJ rolled her eyes, “You guys are unbelievable.”

~*7*~

“Steve invited me to a party.” Peter rolled against the carpet, propping his head up against his arm and glancing up from his textbook. “It’s on Friday night.”

“Rogers did?” Tony asked, shifting against the sheets, peeking off the edge of the bed at Peter. “You going?”

“I think so,” Peter smiled up at Tony, idly fiddling with the pages of his notebook. “B-But I don’t want to go by myself.”

Tony smiled back, “Are you asking me out on a date, baby?”

“N-No,” Peter blushed. “Maybe.”

Tony smirked, “Well, I’ve got a thing on Friday night.”

“A thing?”

“Yeah, my old man is holding this fucking investor event at our house. I’m not trying to piss him off,” Tony sighed. “So I can’t miss it, but I’ll show up at Rogers’ place after.”

“Okay,” Peter shrugged, “We can just meet each other there.”

“Just don’t get too drunk without me.” Tony laughed and sat up, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. “Are you done with your work yet? We should play some video games or something before your aunt gets back.”

“You know I can’t.” Peter lifted his notebook. “I have to finish this.”

“Let me see.” Tony tapped the bed beside him.

“It’s this one.” Peter shifted up onto his knees and put his notebook on the bed. “I’ve checked it over and over and I can’t-”

“You rounded wrong here.” Tony pointed at the paper. “Take the ceiling, not the floor.”

“Oh?” Peter squinted, his eyes scanning across his work. “Oh! That’s it! How did I miss that?” He smiled, fixing his mistake and looking back up to Tony. “Wait, can you help with this one too?”

“I mean, that’s just all wrong. Give me that.” Tony grabbed the pencil and started making corrections. “You need to make sure you use the right function here and don’t forget the extra square on this one.”

Peter laughed, “I’ve been stuck on these for hours and you finished them in two minutes.”

“It’s whatever.”

“It’s not whatever. I really appreciate it.” Peter smiled, “I think smart Tony is the coolest Tony.”

“As opposed to what?”

“Naps-all-afternoon Tony?” Peter joked but gazed up at Tony with a look of concern. “Why are you always so sleepy?”

“I don’t sleep well at home.”

“Why not?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Tony whispered as he brought his hand against Peter’s cheek. “I just sleep better here.” His hand moved to Peter’s chin, drawing a slow line from the spot just below Peter’s lip to the hollow of his collarbone. “Because the bed smells like you.”

“Tony,” Peter gasped, realizing too late what kind of position they were in. He was on his knees, and if he inched sideways, he would be between Tony’s legs. His face went hot and, judging by the smile that worked its way to Tony’s lips, his blush was apparent.

“Yes, baby?” Tony’s voice was full of tease as he brought his hand back up to gently tap his fingertip against Peter’s bottom lip. “You want something?”

“I- um…I-” Peter froze, watching with bewildered eyes as Tony leaned in – yet another kiss lean! So Peter instinctively tensed, his eyes flickering shut as his nerves took hold of his reactions once again.

And Tony stopped just before their lips touched.

“It’s okay if you don’t,” Tony whispered, shifting upward to press a quick kiss on Peter’s forehead before pulling away. “Here,” Tony grabbed the pencil again. “I’ll help you with the rest of this and then we can play some games. Deal?”

“Deal.”

~*8*~

The next day was different.

Tony was quieter – angrier? – Peter couldn’t tell, but he knew it had to be caused by the small bruise darkening on Tony’s cheekbone. It was a rare sight; a mark on the face of the undefeated bad boy. And Peter wanted to ask about it, wanted to know if Tony was okay, but the silence was suffocating. In the car, the older boy didn’t say a word – no playful flirting, no rock ‘n’ roll jam session – just silence. So, Peter followed suit, letting his nerves go wild as they made their way to his apartment.

As usual, once Tony parked, he reached for his pack of cigarettes and got out of the car. Peter hastily made his own exit, keeping his eyes trained on Tony’s expression. The older boy wasn’t just quiet, he was outright irritable. That was made clear by the scowl twisting on his face. He was clumsier too, and frustrated with the smallest things, like accidentally dropping a cigarette into a sidewalk puddle or his cheap lighter refusing to spark. He was all huffs and grumbles and refused to say a word.

With a new cigarette perched between his lips, Tony furiously pulled at the spark-wheel. Once, twice, three times, but it just didn’t catch. Peter wanted to say that Tony could smoke in the apartment – Aunt May was bound to have a lighter sitting around somewhere – but the Tony’s furrowed brow and waning patience was just as suffocating as his silence.

So, again, Peter remained silent.

It was only after what seemed like the thousandth, or millionth, flick of the wheel that Tony finally spoke, or rather yelled. “Fuck it!” He exclaimed as he spiked the lighter against the sidewalk with enough force to shatter the plastic. The outburst made Peter’s shoulders jump and his gaze drop to the concrete.

“Let’s go,” Tony mumbled, paying Peter no mind and stuffing the cigarette back into the pack before stomping his way into the building.

This part was also very different. He didn’t hold the door for Peter. He didn’t pester Peter about having fun before studying. No video games, no TV, not even one of those intimate chats he loved so much. He just went right into Peter’s room, kicked off his shoes, and collapsed against the middle of the bed.

For a short while, Peter didn’t bother him. He sat at his desk, pulled out his notebooks, his laptop, and textbook, and started his homework. Yet, he couldn’t finish the first problem, or the second, or the third. His brain refused to focus because it was tethered to everything happening with Tony. All of the older boy’s sighs, the soft clicks of his tongue, the shuffle of his leather jacket against the covers as he tossed and turned. And, while Peter still couldn’t find the courage to speak, he couldn’t keep doing nothing either.

Tony needed him, so the homework could wait.

Peter slowly stood from his chair, careful to keep it from making noise as he approached the grumbling mess on his bed. His nerves were screaming, and his heart was beating so fast and so loud that he could hear it in his ears. And his hands were shaky, and his throat felt tight, and his mind taunted him with replays of Tony’s standoffish behavior; the silence, the irritability, the sudden outburst.

Yet, despite all that, Peter still scooted up onto the bed, sitting just below the pillows with the side of his thigh only an inch away from Tony’s hair. And wow – Tony’s hair – Peter has never touched it before, but he found himself instinctively carding his fingers through it. Gentle and soothing pats, just like Tony does to him.

And Peter watched with wary eyes as Tony flinched but immediately settled into the touch. That wordless way of relaxing was all the encouragement Peter needed. So, he continued, rhythmically dragging his fingers through the short locks and smiling as the older boy moved to rest the back of his head in Peter’s lap.

Peter kept his right hand in Tony’s hair, but placed his left against the older boy’s chest, idly drawing circles on his t-shirt. The moment was long, but Peter didn’t mind. He continued until Tony’s eyes were closed, and his brow wasn’t furrowed, and his scowl had gone away.

Then, Peter found his voice. “What happened?” He softly whispered, gently skimming his fingertips across Tony’s bruised cheekbone.

The question made Tony’s brow knit, but the soft caress of Peter’s hands relaxed it away. “My old man.” He paused, letting out another sigh, “He found out about the fucking suspension and the fight and he-” Again, Tony paused. “He just did what he always does.”

“What?” Peter’s eyes started to sting and his hands started to tremble, as did his breath, “Y-Your dad did this to you?” He could barely get the words out. His mind was bombarded with flashes of every moment where Tony avoided questions about his dad and his time at home. How could Peter miss those signs?

My old man made me take up boxing when I was young. My old man hates that kind of stuff. No, my old man says those are for kids that want to be placated by science, not challenged. Better than how shit with him usually goes. Yeah, my old man is holding this fucking investor event at our house. I’m not trying to piss him off. I don’t sleep well at home.

And it was too much, so Peter cried.

“Hey, don’t cry, baby.” Tony finally opened his eyes, staring into Peter’s teary ones and reaching up to castaway the wetness trickling down his cheeks.

“B-But he- To you, he-” Peter tried to hold back his sobs, biting the inside of his lip and training his eyes on the ceiling to prevent more waterworks. He was supposed to be comforting Tony, not the other way around. “It’s w-wrong. That he d-did this to you.”

“I know,” Tony hummed.

“He’s- He’s your dad. He should never do that.”

“I know.” Tony grabbed Peter’s hand, intertwining their fingers.

“He’s supposed to care about you! He’s-!”

“I know.” Tony lifted Peter’s hand and pressed a kiss against it. “But it’s okay. Don’t cry about it. I don’t even cry about it.”

“Tony, that’s-” Peter shook his head. “Then I’ll cry for you.”

“Peter-”

“It’s okay to be scared, Tony,” Peter whispered.

“I- yeah, I know.” Tony nodded, gently squeezing Peter’s hand. “Thank you, baby, but let’s not talk about that right now.” And, for the first time today, he grinned. His voice was less somber; less grumbly; less full of frustrated huffs. Instead, it was more Tony or, rather, more flirty. “I don’t want to kill this mood.”

“This mood?” Peter let out a small breathy laugh and sniffled, “I’m ugly crying, and you’ve been quiet and angry all day. There is no mood.”

“Yeah, I know, but-” Tony paused, seemingly struggling to find the right words. “It’s just- you’re touching me and you don’t usually do that, so-” Tony laughed too, and it was just as breathy as Peter’s. “I’m – fuck, I don’t know – I guess I’m just excited?”

“Excited?” Peter repeated, and Tony answered by gesturing to the front of his jeans, where a clear bulge had formed in the black denim, right beneath the zipper.

Peter’s face went hot, and he stopped his touches because, suddenly, he was attuned to the mood as well. Not only that, but his mind – the same one that secretly admired Tony’s eyes, and Tony’s lips, and Tony’s broad shoulders, and Tony’s smell, and Tony’s everything – yeah, that mind – it made Peter’s own excitement start to stiffen. After all, he was alone in his bedroom – on! his! bed! – with Tony Stark and, fuck, he couldn’t stop glancing at Tony’s zipper. “I- You- You’re-?” Peter stuttered.

“Yeah,” Tony’s voice was more hesitant than usual. “Is that- I mean, are you… okay with it?”

Peter nodded, his flushed face getting redder with each little dip of his chin, “Y-Yes.”

“You sure?” Tony asked again, and Peter nodded again. His big brown eyes darting to his desk, and to his dorky posters, and to his messy bookshelf, and to literally anything else because any spare glance at Tony made his nerves erupt beyond his control.

Tony smiled as he sat up, moving to sit beside Peter and leaning so their shoulders brushed against each other. “I know you get nervous around me.”

“What?” Peter’s voice squeaked. “N-No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. So I’m just going to ask this time.” Tony gave a slight laugh – a nervous laugh, really – as he ran a hand through his short hair and made a look Peter could only describe as cautiously eager. “Can I kiss you, Peter? On your lips this time.”

And, again, Peter nodded because his words never worked when he wanted them to. His body was a bashful, shaky mess, but he was also excited so he shifted against the bed, facing Tony before closing his eyes. And he gasped when Tony’s hand cupped his face and gently caressed the space beneath his ear. And he couldn’t see when Tony leaned in, but he could feel the heated closeness and the warm breath tickling his lips and soft bump of Tony’s nose against his own. He could feel the way Tony angled their heads, each slightly tilted to the right. He could feel the experimental brush of Tony’s lips against his own, so Peter pushed, pressing their lips together in a tender first kiss.

It was sweet, not too wet or too dry, and full of emotion that could make hearts hurt. Peter could tell that Tony had kissed before because, when Peter thought it was time to pull away, Tony deepened. Sucking on Peter’s bottom lip, coaxing his lips apart. This was wetter, Peter thought, but he didn’t hate it. No, in fact, that earlier excitement was now fully hardened and pressing uncomfortably against his jeans. And the way Tony kissed him – now confident and brimming with passion – it didn’t help.

Then, Tony licked into Peter’s mouth, and Peter had to catch a sound in his throat. He didn’t know what the sound was – a moan, a whine, or, oh god, was it a mewl? – whatever it was, he stopped it. There was no way he was going to make needy sounds in front of Tony. He would die of embarrassment, he was convinced, but – fuck – Tony’s other hand was against his thigh now.

So Peter had to stifle another sound – multiple sounds, actually – as Tony’s hand slowly trailed upward. Dragging his fingertips against Peter’s inner thigh and stopping just before Peter’s zipper.

That’s when Tony broke the kiss.

Peter’s head was reeling, and his breaths were heavy because breathing while kissing was oddly difficult. And his face was all but boiling under his endless nerves, and the intensity of Tony’s gaze, and the arousal that bubbled at his core.

“Can I touch you here, baby?” Tony whispered against Peter’s lips. His fingertips grazing Peter’s smooth cheek as he squeezed the inside of his thigh.

And the sultry way that pet name rolled off the bad boy’s tongue sent a wave of goosebumps across Peter’s skin. It was all too much for the younger boy to handle – the kisses, the whispers, the touches – so, he gave in to his urges. “Yes,” Peter whined, all needy and high-pitched as he gripped at the bottom of Tony’s jacket like a lifeline.

“Wow, are those sounds for me, baby?” Tony playfully grinned, and pressed his hand against Peter’s zipper, happily watching the younger boy squirm beneath the touch.

Peter gasped, his body instinctively tensing at the spark of pleasure that rushed his senses. Sure, there were two layers of clothes between Tony’s hand and Peter’s budding erection, but it still felt amazing. He nodded as a desperate Mhmm fell from his lips and he used all his willpower to keep his hips from grinding up against Tony’s hand. “Tony,” Peter moaned, his half-lidded gaze bouncing between Tony’s hand and Tony’s lips.

Then, they were kissing again. It was deeper; eager; hotter and somehow, Peter found himself being pushed down by the strength of Tony’s hold. His back fell against the sheets and Tony hovered above him. Their mouths unbreaking as Tony’s hand worked at Peter’s jean button, and then his zipper, and soon, Tony was tugging at the waist of the denim.

The sensation of Tony’s trail of kisses from his mouth to his neck was one thing, but thoughts of Tony’s hand stroking him bare were enough to reduce Peter to a breathy, whiny mess.

Tony paused to kiss the spot just above Peter’s collarbone, sucking hard enough that a dark red mark was left in his wake. He pulled away, then, admiring his work paired the aroused expression on Peter’s face. He grinned, his voice playful as he whispered, “You like that, baby?”

Did Peter like this? Yes. He unequivocally liked this. He fucking liked this. He didn’t think the word ‘like’ could even begin to convey how much. So he lifted his hand from the sheets, bringing his fingertips to Tony’s cheek, down his neck, over the collar of his t-shirt, across his chest, and beneath the loose fabric of the bottom hem. He kept his eyes locked on Tony the entire time, watching the small hitched breaths and the barely noticeable flinches as he skimmed his hand up Tony’s shirt.

And just as Tony hooked his finger in the elastic of Peter’s boxers, and Peter parted his lips to answer, the sound of the front door opening rippled through the apartment.

“Peter!” It was Aunt May’s voice. “I’m home early! Are you here?”

Fuck, May’s back. A collective expression shared by both boys that killed any and all arousal.

“Yes! Hold on, I’ll be right there!” Peter yelled back, frantically adjusting his clothes and hair and – oh god – he smells like Tony and his shirt didn’t quite cover the hickey on his neck and why the fuck is May home so early? “What do we do?” He whispered in a panic.

“Relax,” Tony smiled, letting out a small laugh. “I’ll just go say hi.” He calmly said as he adjusted himself in the mirror before starting towards the door.

“W-Wait, Tony-  I’m- I’m still grounded!” Peter whisper screamed, but that didn’t stop Tony from walking out into the living room, so Peter had no choice but to reluctantly trail behind the bad boy.

“Peter, who’s this?” May asked as she took off her jacket and shoes.

“I’m Tony, ma’am.” He stepped forward, extending his hand. “Tony Stark.”

May smiled and shook his hand, “Nice to meet you, Tony.” She said, flashing Peter an all too familiar you-are-in-so-much-trouble look.

“May, I-” Peter stepped forward. “I can explain.”

“Yes you will, but it can wait until later.” May crossed her arms, “Now, young man, what on earth happened to your face? Sit down,” She guided Tony to a dining chair before disappearing into the kitchen and emerging with a bag of ice wrapped in a towel. “Here, hold this against it.”

“It’s nothing.” Tony shrugged, taking the ice bag with a thankful smile.

May propped her hand against her waist and nodded, “Well, if nothing keeps happening, you come and tell me. Understood?”

“Um-” Tony looked taken aback but, despite his confusion, he nodded, “Okay, yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, and you’re staying for dinner.” May smiled as he turned to place a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “I want to get to know my nephew’s boyfriend.”

Peter blushed, “May!”

~*9*~

“Dude, are you sure you’re allowed to be here?” MJ asked as she pulled the car against the curb in front of Steve Rogers’ house. “It doesn’t look like your kind of thing.”

MJ was right. The bass-heavy hitlist was loud enough to hear through the glass of the car window. The lawn was littered with red cups, silver cans, and cars parked carelessly on the grass. Partygoers loitered on the front porch puffing smoke that reddened the whites of their eyes. This party was a far cry from the small movie nights Peter shared with best friends.

“I was invited, MJ.” Peter rolled his eyes, shuffling begrudgingly in the passenger side seat. He knew what she was asking – will you be okay here, Peter? “Tony is coming too, so I’ll be fine.”

“Of course he is.” MJ sighed, crossing her arms and shaking her head. “But he couldn’t spare some time to bring you here himself.”

“He had something to do with his dad.” Peter dropped his gaze into his lap.

“That doesn’t excuse him,” MJ’s voice was firm, unmoving. “And let’s be honest here. You wouldn’t have been invited if he hadn’t brutalized half of the people in there. Bullies don’t become friendly after being put in their place. They become vengeful. He should be in there with you now!”

“MJ, I’ll be fine!” Peter snapped because, even now, he didn’t know how to feel. Tony was violent – he understood that – but he couldn’t stand the constant reminders. “Stop talking about Tony like that!”

“Like what?” She challenged. “Like the guy he is. A violent, privileged asshole like the rest of them, who fights people for no reason, and who’s probably just using you fo-!”

“MJ, stop! You don’t get to talk about him like that! You don’t know him!”

“Oh?” MJ tilted her head and scowled. “And you do? After one fucking week? You think you know him?!”

“Yes! I do!” Peter nearly screamed. “And if you can’t trust me on this one, then just fucking leave!” He threw open the door, moving to get out.

MJ’s face softened and she reached to grab his arm. “Peter, wait! I didn’t mean-”

“No!” Peter put his hands up, silencing her completely. “You don’t get it, MJ!” He paused, biting the inside of his lip, holding back his anger. “You just don’t.”

“Fine, you’re right.” MJ sighed, squeezing the steering wheel and letting her head fall against the headrest. “I don’t get it! I don’t understand why my best friend, who was being tortured last week, would start hanging out with his torturers!” She sighed once more, her hands falling into her lap. “But I do trust you, dude, so I’m sorry. I’m just worried. Something about this whole thing seems off.”

Peter mirrored his friend’s sigh, “I’m sure I’ll be fine. It’s just a party and, like I said, Tony will be here soon.”

“He better be.” MJ nodded. “Please be safe.”

“I will.” Peter stepped out of the car, flashing a bright smile. “And I’ll be sure to prepare a full report on the inner workings of a Steve Rogers party. Tell Ned.”

MJ laughed, “You tell him, dork.”

Peter joined the laughter, his anger nowhere to be found in the lighthearted exchange. “Thanks again, MJ, for the ride and the worry.”

“Anytime, dude. Call me if you need me.” With that, MJ rolled away, leaving Peter to fend for himself in the unfamiliar landscape of a high school party.

Peter ascended the porch stairs. The front door wasn’t locked or pulled shut and, even if he knocked, he knew no one would hear it over the music pumping from inside. So he took a deep breath and entered the fray. The house smelled of beer breath and fruity vapor laced with the pungent undertones of high-inducing grass. It was dark and foggy and significantly hotter than the brisk outside air. The main entrance was packed with people chatting in groups. Nobody familiar, but the litany of eyes sizing him up said that they knew exactly who he was.

Panic hit quicker than Peter thought it would as he politely excused himself through the crowded hallway. His unmistakable nerves rattling through his body with each careful step. Eventually, he made it to the kitchen, where the only light poured from the dim yellow bulb illuminating the stovetop. The beer smell was stronger here, so was the presence of variously sized glass bottles filled with brown and clear liquids.

“Parker!” It was Sam’s voice. “You made it!”

Peter spun on his heel. Emerging from the crowds was a very stumbly Sam Wilson, who reeked of beer. Behind him was Steve, whose hand was resting against Bucky’s waist.

“H-Hi!” Peter blurted out. “I… um- I just got here.”

“Are you the kid everyone’s talking about?” Steve asked, stepping forward and throwing his other arm around Sam’s shoulder. “Stark’s new owner?”

“I guess,” Peter nodded. “B-But I don’t-”

“Have you had a drink?” Steve asked. “You should have a drink.” He turned to Bucky, pressing his forehead into Bucky’s hair. “Can you get him a drink, babe?”

“Sure.”

And, within minutes, Peter was cradling a beer. The condensation left his palms wet and the taste left his expression in disgust. Beer was nasty, but Steve, Sam, and Bucky were compelling and their ability to attract an audience was even more so. They rallied cheers and chants of chug, chug, chug as Peter downed his first beer ever. The rush of being the center of attention outweighing both his clear mind and the terrible wheaty aftertaste of beers two and three.

It was when Bucky poured the shots that Peter finally asked for a break, but again, they were compelling. So just this one shot, Peter, and then we can go play some games with everyone. The vodka was lava down his throat, warming his body and adding to his haze. With Steve’s hand patting his shoulder and Sam’s impressed look because – damn, Parker can actually hold it down – Peter didn’t mind the teeth-numbing lightheadedness or the floaty instability.

After Sam grabbed a full bottle of vodka and Steve took a case of beer from the fridge, Peter was whisked away. Towed along by Bucky as the group pushed their way through the hall and into a room away from the crowds; Steve’s room.

But inside was a nightmare.

Sitting around the room – some on the bed, some on the floor – with drinks in their hands and smirks on their faces were Peter’s bullies; Clint, Natasha, Thor, and Loki.

“Hey boys,” Natasha greeted them with a smile.

“We have the re-up.” Sam joked as he took a spot on the floor, pouring vodka into Natasha and Clint’s cups as Steve handed beers to Thor and Loki.

Peter froze and yanked his hand out of Bucky grasp, his fight or flight instincts screaming at him to turn and leave. “I-I shouldn’t…um- I can’t be in here.”

“Wait a second, Peter.” Bucky placed a hand on Peter’s back, stopping him from leaving and guiding him to a spot on the bed beside Natasha. “They have something to say.”

“Yes, we apologize, Parker,” Thor said, tipping his head and raising his plastic red cup. “We were out of line that day.”

“Yes,” Loki agreed. “My brother and I regret our behavior.”

“Yeah,” Clint nodded. “Same here, Parker.”

“It’s the same for me, Peter.” Natasha placed her hand on Peter’s back. “I hope you can forgive us.”

Peter was baffled. Even in his tipsy haze, he could see how unexpected this was. His eyes wandered across the group; the gentleness in Natasha’s eyes, the seriousness in Clint’s, the lack of spite in Thor and Loki’s. They seemed genuine? It was strange. “Is t-this why you invited me?” He asked, glancing over to Steve.

“Yeah,” Steve shrugged. “These guys wanted a chance to apologize and we-” He gestured to Bucky, Sam, and himself. “-wanted to hang out with you.”

Peter let out a small laugh, feeling less resentment than he thought he would – maybe it was the buzz of alcohol – he nodded, “Okay, yeah, I’ll forgive you.”

“Fantastic,” Natasha smiled and clasped her hands together, “Now, let’s play some games.”

The first drinking game was simple. A word game that punished those who fumbled their answers and Peter was good at it. The unopened can of beer he held onto was proof of that.

The next game was more of the same. Never Have I Ever in a room of people who have done it all. Peter won by saying he never had a threesome, which took out Sam, Bucky, and Steve all at once. It was funny; in fact, it was hilarious. He found himself giggling with Natasha like she wasn’t the girl who would trip him in the halls. He was bantering with Clint like he was never hurt by him before. He was cracking jokes with Thor and Loki like they never teased him. He was comfortable in a room filled with people he thought he hated and he couldn’t help but laugh.

During the third game, Peter drank half his beer, but Steve and Bucky had it far worse.

“Guys, I have to tap out.” Steve groaned, falling back against the bed. “I’m drunk drunk.”

Bucky laughed, his voice slurring as he crawled to lay beside Steve, “If you’re drunk drunk, I’m drunk drunk drunk.”

Steve joined in on the hysterical laughter. “Well, if you’re drunk drunk drunk, then I’m dr-”

“Okay, you’re both pretty,” Sam interrupted with a smirk. “If they’re out, I’m out.”

“That’s fine,” Natasha shrugged, standing from the bed and gesturing for the rest of the group to follow. “Come on, guys, let’s go play some more in the other room.” She grabbed Peter’s hand, guiding him to his feet. “You too.”

And Peter followed them – Natasha, Clint, Thor, and Loki – to another room across the hall; a guest bedroom, perhaps.

“Hey, Parker,” Thor spoke, his voice a bit taut. “Is Stark coming?”

Peter nodded, still fiddling with his half-empty can. “Yes! He said he would meet me here.”

“I see,” Thor nodded as he bumped his elbow into Loki’s side. “Then maybe we shouldn’t play this game tonight.”

“Or maybe you should stop worrying, brother.” Loki snapped.

“What game?” Peter squinted, holding up his beer can. “Another drinking game?”

“Yeah, another drinking game.” Natasha placed her hands atop Peter’s shoulders. “Trust me. You’ll love this one.” She smiled, taking Peter’s can away and placing it against the dresser as she guided him to the closet door. “All you have to do is go in there.”

“What?” Peter scratched his head. “Why?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Again, Natasha smiled. “We’ll explain the rules once you’re in there.”

“O-Okay,” Peter mumbled as he took a step into the closet, letting Natasha close the door behind him. It was a walk-in closet that was dark and empty, save for the few boxes stacked on the top shelves. “Alright, what are the rules?” He yelled through the door, but no response. “Hello?” He yelled, but again, no response. He jiggled the doorknob; locked. “Hey, guys? Are you there?” He knocked on the door this time. Still, no response but he did hear whispering.

Stark is on his way. This is so stupid.

Suck it up, brother. Stark nearly broke my arm.

And he fucking stepped on me.

Sit out if you want, Thor, but we’re doing this.

“Guys, I don’t like this game,” Peter spoke through the door, trying to maintain his calm but his palms became clammy and his fingers started to tremble and dread crept its way up his spine. “Can you guys just let me out?” He bit the inside of his lip. “Please.”

Peter flinched when the door swung open. A glimmer of hope rippled through him but it was quickly overshadowed by the dark expressions on Loki and Clint’s faces. Chills ran through him next as his body screamed, Flight. Now. And he tried running between them, tried slipping through their bodies, tried escaping but he couldn’t. Clint grabbed his arm and yanked him into the closet, holding him still despite his frantic thrashing. Loki taunted him – Serves you right, Parker – the merciless laughter burning Peter’s ears. Natasha played lookout, her smile was replaced with a scowl and her words a spiteful: This is what you get for sicking your dog on us, Peter. It was when Loki punched him that his urge to run morphed into an urge to survive.

This wasn’t the first time Peter’s been beaten up. The first was in middle school when Flash punched him hard enough to break his nose. So, when the punches continued, Peter knew to turn his head with them and relax his jaw. The second time was during a spring break school trip when he was pushed onto the ground and kicked hard enough to fracture a rib. So, when Clint threw him against the carpet and the sting of kicks burned at his sides, he used his arms to shield himself.

Peter learned from these experiences to tuck his head, bring his knees to his stomach, endure. But it hurt; more to his pride than to his body. And the laughter was louder, especially when Peter opened his eyes to see their smug grins searing into him. How could he be so foolish? How could he trust them? How could he forgive them?

When it was over, Peter was crying and no amount of biting his lip could stop it. He clenched his teeth and scrambled to feet, and didn’t bother to look back as he sprinted out the door.

Even in the party-fueled frenzy of the hallway, Peter didn’t stop running. His body buzzed with an intense need to put as much distance between himself and his bullies as he could. His eyes were burning from all the tears. His heart hurt and his mind was filled with flashbacks of every single time he endured their torture.

So Peter ran, and the only thing with the power to stop him was the sturdy chest of Tony Stark.

“Peter?” Tony’s voice cracked, his hands cupping Peter’s tear-stained, bruised cheeks. In the soft glow of the porch light, his eyes were a blend of rage and concern. “What happened to you? Who did this?”

Peter sobbed, clutching his sides where his skin felt the most tender and dropping his head against Tony’s chest. As the tears waterfalled down his cheeks and his frame trembled, he cursed at himself. “I’m such an idiot, Tony. I-I shouldn’t have come. I’m-”

“It’s alright.” Tony wrapped his arms around Peter, surprised when he winced. “I’ll handle it. Just tell me who did this to you.” He brought a soothing hand to Peter’s hair, gently threading through the curls despite the anger quaking through his body. “Please. Just tell me.”

Peter could barely get the names out through the tears, but once he did – a shaky Clint and Loki did it – Tony’s whole body tensed and his expression was overcast by a bloodthirsty cloud. His wild eyes were just as breathtaking, but there was no mischievous grin. Instead, his lips were pressed into a hard line, scowling with the rest of his face as he cracked his knuckles like he was loading a gun. And the way he pulled off that signature jacket and draped it over Peter’s shoulders was more cautious, showing his control even as he walked through his fiery rage. There was no nonchalant quip, no fanfare, just a firm voice saying hold this for me, baby. I’ll be right back.

This time, however, Peter didn’t just stand there. He followed Tony inside, leading him to the room where it all happened, wanting nothing more than to see that notorious violence turned on his cruel bullies.

The collective look of shock was satisfying, but the way Tony gripped Clint’s collar, yanking him to his feet and punching him in the jaw, was even more so. The punches continued; rapid hits to the face that happened within seconds of entering the room. Blood started dripping from Clint’s nose and mouth, and before anyone could say anything, Clint was falling limp against the carpet.

“What the fuck, Stark?!” Natasha screamed, moving to put herself between Clint and Tony, trying to stand up for her partner in crime.

Tony grabbed her by the shirt as well, “Did you hit him?”

“What?” Natasha snapped, struggling against the hold. “Let me go, you fucking psychopath.”

But Tony’s grip only tightened, his eyes conveying a murderous energy. “I said, did you hit him?”

Natasha froze like a deer in headlights, “No.”

“Then stay the fuck out of my way.” Tony spat, pushing Natasha aside and delivering a sharp kick to Clint’s torso before turning his attention to Thor and Loki.

“Don’t bring your violence over here, Stark.” Thor weakly warned, flinching just like before; just like a cornered animal.

“Don’t be afraid of him, brother.” Loki stepped forward between Thor and Tony. “If you touch us again, Stark, then we won’t be so nice to your plaything next time.”

“Next time?” Tony repeated with a balled fist and a menacing expression. “You should worry about your own fucking next time.” Then he continued, grabbing Loki by the collar and landing the same kind of rapid punches he used on Clint. These, however, were focused on Loki’s eyes that swelled and turned dark red as Tony unleashed hell through his fists.

Though, Loki didn’t just take it. Even in his arm sling, he threw his own punches and shoves. Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t enough. Tony tackled him to the ground, his onslaught unceasing. That is, until Thor stepped forward to try and stop him.

Peter wouldn’t have guessed that Tony carried a knife. Yet, as Thor moved forward, Tony pulled the butterfly knife from his pocket, flipping it open and pointing it at Thor like a promise, not a threat. It was enough to make the whole room hold their breath.

Except for Peter.

No, Peter knew it was time to intervene. Time to tell Tony to stop. Time to be the limiter. Time to step forward, place his hand over Tony’s, and ease the knife away because it’s okay Tony, let go, give this to me, let me take this.

And the weight of the knife was easier to bear than he thought.

“See, Stark? That’s why you can’t have playthings. They hold you back.” Loki laughed despite the blood dripping from his nose, or the press of Tony’s knee on his torso, or the shocked expression on his brother’s face. “Honestly, what a fucking bitch you are.” Loki taunted.

Break it.

“What?” Tony asked, his eyes flashing to Peter, who didn’t realize he said that aloud.

“I said, break it.”

And the sound that followed was gruesome. A chilling snap from the leverage Tony gained in pushing Loki’s arm backwards across his knee. A clean break, paired with screaming, cursing, and a litany of uncharacteristic tears from a pair of brothers. Then, a coherent threat from a fed-up boy who stutters too frequently. “Touch me again and I’ll have him break the other one.” A promise dipped in venom and punctuated with the tip of the blade poised just inches away from Loki’s face.

This time, Peter knew how to feel.

His eyes traveled to Clint, struggling as Natasha helped him to his feet. It was brutal – Peter knew that – but he was glad. Glad to see that Clint was hurt and Natasha was scared. Excited by the blood and bruises created in payback. Enjoying the scared look in Thor’s eyes and the pain in Loki’s. It was wrong  – he knew that – but he didn’t care. He let himself feel it this time.

Tony took back the knife and pocketed it before taking Peter’s hand in his own. “Let’s get out of here.”

Peter let Tony lead him out of the house and into the car, where they sat in silence for as long as it took Tony to calm himself. It wasn’t awkward or deafening or suffocating, it was just peaceful silence and Peter found solace in it too. A moment to reflect on the dark part of himself that bubbled over amid the alcohol-fueled confidence and the vengeful pain of his assault. A moment to notice he wasn’t crying or trembling. A moment to realize that he threatened Loki; that he chose fight, and it worked.

It was a satisfying moment.

Tony, on the other hand, seemed to take on Peter’s nerves in full. His breath was heavy with sighs and his hands were shaky as he frantically wiped the blood that stained them into the black of his t-shirt. “I’m sorry, Peter. I shouldn’t have- fuck, I did it again. The fucking knife. I- Are you mad? Please don’t be mad.” He dropped his head in his hands. “I couldn’t stop myself. I just- I was so mad seeing you crying and I-  fuck, Pep and Bruce were right about me. I’m-”

“I’m not mad, Tony,” Peter whispered as he reached his hand out to card through Tony’s hair.

“But I-?”

“You fought because I let you fight.”

“But that shouldn’t be your responsibility, Peter. Bruce hated me for that. I can’t-”

“I’m not Bruce.” Peter was firm. “I’m not Pepper either.”

“Peter-”

“Everyone keeps telling me about how violent you are. How you’re this dangerous bad boy that I need to steer clear of, but they’re wrong.” Peter grabbed Tony’s hand, interlocking their fingers. “When I look at you, I see a sweet misunderstood guy who drives me home from school, helps me with my homework and does the dishes after dinner. The guy that sings in his car and worries about his friends. The guy that chooses to use his strength to protect the people he cares about.”

“Peter, that’s nice, but-” Tony paused, inhaling a deep breath. “It doesn’t change the fact that I can never control myself.”

“That’s why I’m here. I’m yours, but you’re mine too. I’ll control you.” Peter squeezed Tony’s hand. “And, yes, breaking someone’s arm is bad – really, really bad,” Peter giggled. “But I’m worse for asking you to do it. I’m worse for liking it.”

“You liked it?” Tony smirked, holding their interlocked hands up so he could press a kiss onto the back of Peter’s hand.

“Y-Yeah, it’s weird.” Peter blushed, averting his gaze. “I’m weird.”

“You’re not weird, baby,” Tony whispered against Peter’s hand. “I liked seeing you too. Seeing you threaten the trash like that,” He smiled, pressing kisses down Peter’s wrist. “Seeing that knife in your cute hands,” His final kiss was wetter. “And seeing that look in your eyes when you did it.”

Peter’s breath caught in his throat, “Um…we s-should- let’s go back to my place.”

“What about your aunt?”

“May is out on a date. She’ll be gone for most of the night.”

~*10*~

When Tony and Peter entered the apartment, the atmosphere between them became torrid. Each interaction heated by the thoughts of what they went there to do. Kicking off their shoes with flushed faces, stripping off their jackets with lingering eye contact, walking down the hall in a suggestive silence. Their already rapid heartbeats ramping into overdrive as they breached the threshold into Peter’s room. The only light pouring from a small lamp on the desk and illuminating their excitement for each other.

Peter was nervous, but Tony was brave. The bad boy sat against the edge of the bed with a tantalizing smile dancing on his lips as he looked Peter up and down like a meal; undressing the younger boy with his eyes like a man starved. He licked the length of his bottom lip and grabbed the hem of his black shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift motion, letting the fabric pool against the floor. “Come here, baby.” He whispered, holding his hand out.

And Peter stepped towards him slowly, taking in the captivating shirtlessness and the unmistakable arousal it caused. He slid his hand into Tony’s, allowing the older boy to pull him closer, guide him to the space between his legs. It was there that Peter’s body buzzed with desire. All of the thoughts whirring through his mind painted over by his lust for Tony Stark.

Tony placed his hands against Peter’s thighs first, dragging upward over the dips of his waist and underneath the bottom of his shirt. Freely dragging his palms across the smooth skin, but stopping when Peter winced.

“S-Sorry,” Peter mumbled, his hands ghosting over his waist. “I’m just- the bruises are still tender, so-”

Tony shook his head, “Don’t apologize.” He whispered, keeping his eyes locked on Peter’s as he pushed the younger’s shirt up and pressed a kiss beneath his belly button. “I’ll be real gentle for you, baby.”

“Tony,” Peter nervously gasped, the simple kiss sending fiery tingles throughout his body.

Tony smiled, one hand caressing the back of Peter’s thigh, the other tugging gently on the fabric of Peter’s shirt. “Can you take this off for me?”

“Okay,” Peter whispered as he grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head, jostling his brown curls as he dropped the shirt against the floor. His creamy skin was splotched in dark bruises that ran down his arms and sides. And with once glance at himself, he gave a quiet laugh, “It looks worse than it feels, I swear.”

Tony’s expression turned somber, “I’m sorry for not being there.” He said, pressing more gentle kisses against Peter’s navel, carefully outlining one of the bruises.

“It’s okay, Tony,” Peter placed his hands in Tony’s hair, dragging his fingertips to the nape of his neck and leaving them resting on his shoulders. “Don’t apologize.” He smiled, his face a rosy pink as he lifted his knee, swinging it across Tony’s lap and sliding downward. “Can we- um… kiss again?”

As Peter straddled him, Tony inhaled sharp because he could feel the brush of Peter’s zipper against his own. He wrapped his arms loosely around Peter’s waist, dipping one of his hands in the younger’s back pocket and positioning the other on the side of Peter’s thigh. “Yeah,” He breathed out as he eagerly leaned forward, pressing their lips together in an open-mouthed kiss.

Peter moaned into it, dropping his weight until the space between their chests was nonexistent. His hands naturally threaded into Tony’s hair and his eyes fluttered closed as he succumbed to Tony’s practiced kissing. Letting the older boy’s tongue dip into his mouth; letting his teeth softly pull at his bottom lip. The moment felt electric, especially when Tony’s hand moved up his thigh, cautiously skimming across the tender bruises and stopping against his nipple, rolling it beneath his fingertips.

Goosebumps rushed across Peter’s skin at the touch. He inched back, breaking the kiss and staring down at Tony’s hand like it was magic. “That feels different when you do it.”

“When I do it, hm?” Tony flicked the soft nub, watching with a playful grin as Peter flinched. “You touch yourself here, baby?”

Peter nodded, his hands gripping at Tony’s shoulders as the pleasure pooled, causing his erection to stiffen painfully under the restrictive denim.

Tony scoffed as he pinched at the nipple hard enough to pull a surprised gasp from the younger boy. “Use your words, baby.”

“T-That’s not fair,” Peter dropped his head against Tony’s shoulder, hiding his surely red face. “You said you’d be gentle.”

“That was gentle, sweetheart.” Tony pressed a kiss against Peter’s neck. “I could’ve been much rougher.”

“Rougher than that?”

“So much rougher than that,” Tony whispered against Peter’s ear.

Peter shivered and turned his head to whisper back, a low and fervid, “Can you show me?”

And without warning, Tony clutched the underside of Peter’s thighs and stood, lifting the younger boy, who gasped in surprise and reactively locked his legs around Tony’s waist. Then, Tony turned and slowly lowered Peter against the sheets, positioning himself between Peter’s spread legs. “Let’s start by getting rid of these.” He said as he popped open the button and zipper and tugged, pulling the jeans and boxers together.

“B-Both?” Peter’s eyes when wide and his hands shot down to cover his now freed erection.

“Yes, both.” Tony gave a soft laugh as he finished pulling the clothes off, tossing them aside. “Move your hands, baby. Let me look at you.” And Tony watched intently as Peter moved his hands away. He watched as Peter’s chest flushed just like his face does. Watched the cute way Peter’s erection twitched in the open air. It was a fucking mouth-watering sight.

As for Peter, his mind brimmed with want, and nerves, and Tony. This was his first time being completely bare in front of someone else; someone whose half-lidded eyes were intense with longing and whose fingers were making their way to his mouth.

“Open,” Tony commanded and Peter obliged, parting his lips and letting the older boy’s fingers slide into his mouth. “Good, now suck.”

And Peter did; closing his lips and sucking, massaging the pad of his tongue against the two digits. He tried to keep his eyes trained on Tony’s but sometimes they would wander downward, across the contour of the older boy’s muscles and – fuck – suddenly, Tony’s fingers pushed deeper, probing the back of his throat, making him cough.

Peter’s hands shot up, pulling Tony’s fingers from his mouth. “W-What are you doing?”

“Showing you how deep I want to shove my dick.” Tony grinned as he nudged his wet fingers against the head of Peter’s erection, mixing the saliva and pre-cum before smearing them down the shaft. “That okay, baby?”

Peter breathed a harsh, “Y-Yes.” A wave of pleasure rocking through his body at the touch. His hips jolting upward and his head lolling back against the pillow, moaning as Tony began his torturously slow strokes.

“You look so fucking hot, Peter,” Tony whispered, leaning down to lick Peter’s nipple; kiss it, roll it between his teeth. “Looking like you’re about to come when I’m barely touching you.”

Tony’s compliment went right to Peter’s head, adding to the pleasure tightening at his core. If he was honest, Tony was right. Alone, he usually got there fast but, with Tony, he was getting there at light-speed. Already teetering on his edge from the blend of sensations. He was one quick stroke away from spilling all over, so he moaned a shaky, “I am.”

And nothing prepared him for the abrupt lack of touch and the intense desire it left in its wake. Peter’s hips flinched upward, chasing Tony’s hand as it pulled away, leaving him in a needy haze. “What- why did- no, Tony, I was there- I-”

“I know, baby,” Tony pressed a kiss to Peter’s forehead. “But you don’t get to come until I say so.”

Peter whined, pouting up at the older boy, with distressed and horny eyes, “Can you say so now?”

“Fuck, you’re so cute,” Tony smiled and sat up, shifting his weight to his knees. “But not yet, sweetheart.” He whispered as he undid his jeans. His toned body flexing in the dim light as he pushed his jeans and boxers down slightly, freeing his hardened length and nudging it against Peter’s.

Peter had to actively prevent his jaw from dropping. Tony’s dick was big – actually, bigger – it made Peter’s length seem small. It even felt different; it was thicker, harder and, maybe his feelings and arousal created bias, but to Peter, Tony’s dick was fucking perfect. A shiver ran through his body at the thought of it in his mouth.

“Having fun?” Tony interrupted and Peter froze, blushing when he realized that he’d been grinding his hips up, desperately rubbing their dicks together from the moment they touched.

“I- um.. s-sorry, I-” Peter stammered, bringing his hands up to hide his embarrassed expression.

“You, what?” Tony laughed quietly, ghosting his hands across Peter’s thighs. “Speak up, baby.”

“I- I just- I wanted to touch it,” Peter muttered through his hands.

“Well, lucky for you, I’m going to let you touch it all you want.”

Then, Tony repositioned them. He stood and guided Peter to lay with his head tipped backward off the edge of the bed. The bed’s height was ideal for this, he thought, as he aligned the head of his erection with Peter’s lips. “Open,” Tony commanded but, this time, Peter hesitated.

“Tony, I’ve never- Just- go slow, okay?”

“Okay,” Tony nodded, gently brushing his fingers against Peter’s cheek. “I’ve got you, baby.” He smiled when Peter parted his lips, “Good, now take a nice deep breath for me.”

And Peter did; inhaled deep as Tony pushed forward, pressing his dick into Peter’s mouth until it couldn’t go any deeper. Peter gripped at the sheets and squeezed his eyes shut, listening to the pleasured groans that fell from Tony’s mouth. And even though Peter was struggling to hold his breath, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it.

Tony pulled out slow – a string of saliva connecting the head of his dick to Peter’s lips, dripping against Peter’s face. “Breathe,” He whispered and watched Peter’s chest expand before pushing forward again. This time, he went even deeper, pushing passed the back of Peter’s mouth, causing a small bulge to show through his neck.

Peter coughed, his drool spurting out around Tony’s dick as he reactively pushed Tony’s hips away. He gasped and coughed again, turning his head to let the excess saliva drop against the floor.

“You okay?” Tony asked, dragging his hands through Peter’s hair. “Was that too much?”

“No,” Peter turned his head back. “I want it harder.”

Tony’s breath hitched, “Yeah?” He squeezed his hand, grabbing a tight handful of Peter’s curls, making the younger boy whine. “You want it harder, baby?”

As Peter opened his mouth to answer, Tony was pushing forward again, quicker than before, plunging deep enough to see the shape of his dick in the contours of Peter’s neck. And he held himself there, indulging in the pleasure of the younger’s fluttering throat, before pulling out half-way and pushing back in. He repeated this in quick succession, occasionally pulling out fully so Peter could catch his breath.

“This hard enough for you, sweetheart?” Tony teased, keeping his dick plunged inside so all Peter could do was moan around it.

And Peter loved it. The feeling of being used and the sounds of Tony’s ecstasy. He thought it would be difficult – controlling his breath while having a dick shoved down his throat – but once he fell into a rhythm, it was easy. And, soon, Tony’s dick was at its thickest, pulsating and leaking pre-cum. His orgasm was close and the way he talked about it made Peter feel hornier than he has in his entire life.

“I’m going to come all over you, baby. You want that, hm? God, you’re so fucking perfect, Peter. Look at how well you’re taking me. You’re so good, baby boy. Fuck, keep your mouth open for me-”

Tony pulled out as he came, groaning deep and shooting lines of cum against Peter’s open mouth and chest. And Peter’s never tasted cum before but he swallowed it like it was nothing, his throbbing arousal completely overshadowing the gravity of the situation.

“Tony, me too. Please.”

“Of course, baby.” Tony smiled, shifting their positions so Peter was sitting on the edge of the bed and Tony was on his knees between Peter’s thighs.

Peter’s whole body shook when Tony started sucking. The pleasure hitting him like it was a tsunami and he was the beach. The way Tony dragged his tongue against the underside of the shaft made Peter’s nerve endings tingle with fiery sparks of euphoria. And when Tony bobbed his head low enough to take it all, Peter swore he fell into delirium. “Tony, I’ll come- I’ll- I’m-!”

Yet, just as Peter took a step towards orgasm, Tony stopped. He gripped at the base of Peter’s length, viciously yanking him back to the edge, preventing his climax for the second time that night. But before Peter had time to complain, Tony was pulling him down and pinning him against the side of the bed.

Tony stared into Peter’s eyes and started stroking again, “Go ahead, baby, you can come.”

Peter immediately averted his gaze, unable to handle the embarrassment of suddenly being so close. “But Tony, I-”

Tony scoffed and lifted his idle hand to the underside of Peter’s jaw, forcing the younger’s eyes back to his. “It wasn’t a question, baby.” He whispered, squeezing his fingers against the sides of Peter’s throat, “I told you to come.”

So Peter came; a breathless scream falling from his lips as a tremor shook his body and his cum oozed all over Tony’s hand. It was an overwhelming pleasure – nothing like anything he’s felt on his own. And as he floated down from his sweltering high, Tony released his throat and leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss against his forehead.

“Are you okay, baby?”

“Yeah, are you?”

“Yeah, that was amazing.

“Yeah.”

And for a while, they stayed there, bodies pressed together in a content embrace, sticky from their passion and audibly panting from their ardor, but content nonetheless. Basking in the feeling of their intimate moment; an exchange of sweet nothings, a soothing caress, a medley of soft giggles. A litany of playful kisses, a cascade of fingertips carded through messy hair, a breathtaking empathetic chemistry. All topped with promises of tomorrow and the days after, where they belonged to each other.

-

The relief I felt after finishing this is insurmountable. Apologies for being a flaky hoe, but I hope you all enjoyed the read. Leave me a comment or feel free to hop in my asks. Let me know how I did. 

Shout out to my muses: @ultimatelyshippingthegays @benhardysdrumstick ❤️

Thank you for the amazing ideas. A bitch did her best. Love you all!

EDIT: Read the sequel here.

[curlyboyholland]

I’m Always Here [BestFriend!Fuckboy!Tom x Fem!Reader] Pt.1

A/N: I’m gonna be at a day camp and spending time with family friends a lot for the next 3 weeks so it will be hard to keep up with the series. Also, the other parts will be much longer, this is basically just setting everything up.

Summary: You and your boyfriend were the perfect couple, but Tom knew the relationship wasn’t. While you are in a “happy” relationship, every girl Tom sleeps with, he pretends it’s you.

Masterlist Wordcount: 1.3k (oops pretty short for this) Add yourself to my taglist

Part2 Part 3

You two were perfect. No, not you and Tom. There was no You and Tom. You had a boyfriend and that wasn’t Tom’s role in your life. Instead, he got to play the role where he had to listen to you vent about everything your boyfriend, Dylan, does. Why were you with this douche if he did so much shit that makes you unhappy and it crushed Tom because he knew he was better for you.

Tom was perfect for you but you couldn’t see it. 

Instead, all you saw were some of the girls who Tom took home. You weren’t judging him because he can sleep and flirt with whoever he wants but that’s part of the reason you got a boyfriend. You had to get rid of the small, unspoken crush you had on your best friend because clearly, he didn’t feel the same way, or at least, that’s what you thought.

But Tom did like you, a lot but of course, he doesn’t know how to deal with his feelings for you so what better way to deal with your crush on your best friend than sleep around with girls at clubs? Logic.

6 months ago...

That day, it had to be that day. It had to be the day when Tom was going to actually tell you how he felt. He wishes he had tried to tell you sooner, but better late than never. Well, that’s what was going through Tom’s mind at the time, unaware of the company you had. The anxious, curly haired boy stood at your door trying to gather the courage to just knock. When his knuckles hit the door, he heard a deep voice from the other end. A guy who basically looked like a Ken doll answered the door; he was taller than Tom and seemed as if he was late for a photoshoot for Calvin Klein. Tom was mainly just confused because for one night stands, he knew you never took guys over to your place. 

The man’s shoulder leaned against the doorway and he was also now immediately an enemy of Tom’s. Who knows? Maybe this guy could be the nicest person ever, more reason for Tom to hate him. The tall man’s piercing green eyes seemed to stare right through Tom. Almost like a challenge, the man asks, “so, what’s your name?”

Tom was tempted to pull the spider-man card but deep down he knew it wouldn’t impress this guy. “Tom. You?”

“Dylan.” There was a short silence before Tom heard your voice ask from inside the apartment. 

“Who is it, Dy?”

This prick had a fucking nickname? “Some dude named Tom.” Dylan’s eyes Tom up and down, and for the first time in a while, it makes Tom self-conscious.

When you walk over to the door, a big smile is plastered on your face. You stood right next to Dylan and kissed him on the cheek. Tom usually loved that smile, but not right now. But hey, if this guy made you happy then it wasn’t Tom’s place to interfere.

Your attention refocuses to Tom and realize you never introduced one another. “Oh my god, where are my manners. Tom this is Dylan, Dylan this is Tom.”

Tom was trying really hard to keep his cool. “Yeah, we’ve met.”

“So, Tom, what’s up?”

“Oh, nothing important, I didn’t know you had company. Are we still on for our weekly movie night?”

“Shit! I forgot about movie night, Dylan and I have plans already. I’m so sorry, Tom.”

He pressed his lips together into a tight smile really trying to mean it. “Y/n, it’s fine, don’t worry about it.” 

He was lying and you could tell because even though he was a good actor, he was a horrible liar. He was not fine and you felt horrible but you didn’t want to press it. You put your hand on Dylan’s shoulder. “Hey, honey? Can you move the reservation for another night?”

He nods. “Okay, Tom, stop by at 6:30?”

Next thing he knows, Tom is back to looking at the door, missing your face.

He picks up his phone and goes to Harrison’s contact. The phone picks up almost immediately because Haz knew that Tom was going to finally try and tell you how he feels. 

“Mate, did you tell her?”

“Um, no.”

“Why the hell not”

“Um, because Dylan was there.”

“Who the fuck is Dylan.”

“The boyfriend.”

“Aw shit, Tom. I’m sorry, that sucks ass.”

“Yeah, well, what are you gonna do?”

“Suck it up, I guess. Sleep with some girls and pretend it’s her.”

“Tom-”

Haz’s line is cut short when Tom hangs up and he knows his best friend was going to be a mess. 

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

“So, since when did you have a boyfriend,” Tom asks. “I just thought, you know, being best friends and all you would tell me this stuff.”

“You don’t tell me about all of your hookups, now do you Tom?” 

“So, Dylan is a hookup?”

“No, well, I don’t know. We’ve gone on only two, three dates.”

“So first off, not a hookup. Second, you called him honey.”

“I mean, it started as a hookup at his place but then I mean, he was really really sweet and we have a lot in common so. You know, if you didn’t sleep around so much, maybe you would find someone.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He was tracing shapes with his fingertips onto your thigh. It wasn’t sexual at all, it was just a habit of his with you.  

“Tom?” His puppy eyes look at you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just missed out on something really great. Also just had to do with bad timing.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, at all. By the way, why didn’t you tell me about Dylan?”

“I don’t know, scared how you would react.”

“You know you never have to be scared of me and you can tell me anything, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” You fell asleep watching some movie while your head laid on Tom’s shoulder. Tom almost felt guilty, but why should he be? It wasn’t like you guys were kissing or anything. This was just best friend stuff, right?

Tom broke a lot of hearts and slept with a lot of people when you started seeing Dylan all the time. He played with girl’s feelings but didn’t even mean to do so. But, at this point, what did he have to lose. Meanwhile, you and Dylan went fast, really fast. After just a few months you guys were living together and it crushed Tom. But you guys were happy, well on the surface. Tom knew better, he could read you like the back of his hand. If you were truly happy, why was it such a normal occurrence of you coming to his door near tears?

No boyfriend was supposed to do that, to send his girlfriend to her best friend's in tears once or twice a week. It broke his heart because he knew you were stuck in this relationship but he just didn’t know why. But everyone assumed Dylan was perfect because, well, he seemed perfect. 

But something you had never done during your relationship with Dylan is show up at Tom’s doorstep with a suitcase in hand. Your breathing is heavy and your thoughts are going miles a minute, as well as Tom. Tear trails stain your face and your mascara is a mess and you feel like you can barely breathe. 

The events of the previous few hours still hadn’t quite sunk in but at least you were here instead of with Dylan, ‘the perfect guy.’ 

“Hey, um, can I stay here for a few days?” Suddenly, you broke down right in the open where anyone could see you, but you didn’t care. You just wanted to be home, and Tom was your home. 

He pulls you into a tight hug and rubs your back, something he knows always helps calm you down. “Okay, darling. You’re okay, shhh, you’re okay.”

OOh did you guys like it? Please give me feedback so I can improve.

Tag list: @spider-gwenscanary @nasa-parker @softboy-holland @livexlovexlaughxdreamxx @somebodymaybeawatson @imthanosbitch @tomsfireheart @homebean @agentsarahofshield @ali-ami-umi @allurasparker @yuckybucky

tagging: @suitedspidey @suit-lady @goodnightbuckybarnes @bi-writes @upsidedownparker @loserparker @peters-vlogs @starksparker 

[starkerforlife6969]

This post is me replying to the lovely anons I got! But I didn't wanna spam anyone’s feed so it’s all down below in one mega post! Mwah x PS none of these are prompts, those would always be posted separately ;) so if you’re a prompter, just wait on me honeys i promise ill come through for you soon. 

1) @janetpie1951: “i would kill everyone for sugar baby Peter. With No remorse.” and “Secretary Peter? Absolutely fucking perfect.”

We are the same, my love. Me too. I love that softboi so much i would pull a tony and just break everyone’s leg if they so much as looked at him the wrong way. 

And thank you SO much, I was so scared no one would like the secretary Peter one because I found his character really hard to write as it was so OC, you know? So this put a huge smile on my face :)) x

2) I’m having mild social anxiety just typing this. I wanted to tell you how much I’ve been enjoying your writing. Especially the Mafia boss/sugar baby/bodyguard story line you’ve been posting. I can’t wait for the next part.

I cannot wait for Part 3, at the moment it’s just a few snippets because i need a few more ideas to tie it together, but i promise it’ll be up soon! And my precious thing, well done for typing it anyway!!! I know how you feel, but this made my day so thank you so much sugar xx

3) I wish I was brave enough to share my writing like you do. I'm really scared people will think I'm stupid or that I suck. I'm too shy to share much 🙈 How can someone get over that kind of fear?

Dude, if I could take you back to the first fic I ever wrote- I think it was Dramione? Or H2O, it was seriously just awful like wow oh my god. But the thing was- people were so nice. And dude, it was shit. I promise you, it really was. What i’m saying is- you are your own harshest critic, and that’s super cliche but it’s true. No one will judge your work the way you do. And the feeling when people are nice- oh god, it just- it’s worth the risk. No one is going to think youre stupid or you suck because you had the fucking moxie to create something in the first place. I know it’s hard to take that first leap- I was too young to truly comprehend how scary it was when I did it, but I know you can get there. Sometimes it’s nicest starting in a tiny little fandom because everyone is so supportive and you all know each other and you can build confidence that way- saying that, the starker fandom is by far the most supportive one i’ve ever been in (teen wolf a close second, but there can be some mean anons there who for some reason are obsessed with scott??? like i like him, but let’s chill out, sorry off topic) and there will be haters, but fuck them. I, personally, would read anything you wrote and i would never have anything negative to say. I might be like “dude could you put stuff into paragraphs cuz it’s hard to read a block of text on my phone” but that’s it- that’s the worst thing i would ever say. i’d be too busy being grateful that you’d written some glorious content.

It’s scary, my gorgeous darling, but you can get there. The more fic you read, the more confident you get, and soon you’ll get more confident in YOU. As long as YOU like your writing (which is one of the hardest things ever) it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. 

that being said, nothing wrong with shyness. It’s okay to keep it to yourself, sometimes it’s a private thing. Maybe tease us with a few snippets and when we all go insane and beg you for more, maybe then you’ll be encouraged ;) 

4) OML I looooove that you link the other chapters in your series. It's awesome. Keep up the great work! I love your stories ❤️

Dude, thank you!!!! It’s super annoying to do but i always do it because i wish other users did it because it’s so hard scrolling through their whole blog to find a part 2 so thank you so much for appreciating it hahaha it honestly made my day. 

5) Holy FUCK that mafia boss with sugar baby peter is my absolute favorite thing I have ever read in my existence. Thank you so much for writing it and blessing everyone who reads it 💕💕

Yeah you’re just the best and sweetest thing ever. You just are. End of. 

6) I just spent the last several hours going through the starker tag on your blog and hot diggity damn are you good at writing these two.

that is one of the best ways to spend the day and I'm am so honoured you picked mine like ahhhhh i could dance and blush forever, thank you so much. 

7) your mafia tonypetersteve was so good i just!!! I DONT HAVE WORDS it made me so emotional and it was perfect and just uGHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh thank you for writing it so muchhhhh - { holographic-starker }

dude- dude- dude, you are so lovely. THANK YOU FOR READING IT 

8) Oh wow, your Mafia Boss Tony x Sugar Baby Peter x Bodyguard Steve fic is sooo amazing! 😱❤ The atmosphere, the tension, I can't even say what's my favourite part, everything is just so damn perfect and sexy! ❤❤

oh my god this is a tirade of compliments and I'm honest to god sobbing, seriously dude the fact that you read it and liked it is- it’s the best feeling ever i can’t even describe it to you.  

9) Ummmmmmm excuse me while I die in a corner because of your mafia au 🤤

have i mentioned that i don’t deserve you guys? I honestly don’t. 

10) [this is on the secretary au] THAT TOOK A TURN REAL FAST ((it was so good))

thank you so fucking much honestly i am awed, this was so worth putting off essays to do 

11) @biscuitsonofa  NEED MORE SECRETARY PETER BOSS TONY PLEASE IM D Y I N G OVER HERE I LOVE YOU

oh my god you are so amazing i can’t even just wow. If i ever came up with an idea i’d love to continue it for you, gorgeous. 

12) your a/b/o au with tony/harley/peter was so great!! i would love a part 2❣️

same as above honey in 11, if i ever develop a decent imagination, i definitely will. thank you so much for taking the time to make my whole day. 

13) @pretty-well-funded I binged through Super Size Me at 2am and I am fucking in love with it

Well I’m in love with you, so there. And please don’t hate me over how slack i’ve been with that fic, i started it before i made this side blog and now this sideblog has taken over my whole life but i promise i will get back to it because you guys are so supportive and brilliant and wow 

14) @hoe4parker You're literally one of my favorite writers and I'm currently writing a trans!Peter fic and if you're cool with writing one, you could write one too? I love trans!Peter and new content is always fabulous and I really really love your writing

You are beyond the sweetest thing in the whole world. Just wow. Just thank you. Actually because of this ask i did a bunch of research into how to write trans characters and asked a lot of other users for advice, but i just don’t think i can do it justice at this stage :(( i’ve never done it before and i don’t feel i know quite enough about it. I love reading trans peter fics and i can’t wait for yours, but as for me, i think i need to build up my talent in that area. Who knows, maybe one day? ;) 

15) @starkersbitch Heyyy there! Uh I somehow wanted to tell you that on here rather than on ao3, but I am OBSESSED with your fic "Super Size Me". The characterisation? AMAZING. The smut? I'm living. Your general writing style? Love it. Keep up your good work, love!

yeah i remember getting this, it put the biggest smile on my face ever like just wow thank you so goddamn much. like i said in 13, don’t hate me. I will get back to it gorgeous, i promise!!!! be patient with me, like timberlake says in bad teacher “i think I'm worth the wait” snort goddamn, I'm totally not but you’re a darling and i love you seriously, this encouragement is what makes this fandom the best one ever. 

[elven-oracle]

spinning

Pairing: Peter Parker x FemaleReader

Word Count: 808

Warnings: Car accident!

Summary: Literally based on a car accident I got into recently.

A/N: I have no idea where I’m going with this.

On a typical Wednesday, you drove three freshman home from swim practice, and after two hours of intense physical exertion, it was obvious they were all aching to be home. Midtown's infamous women's swimming coach loved to overwork her swimmers, and looking into your rear view mirror, practice seemed to have taken its toll as usual. Ten more minutes of driving through Queens and they would be comfortably in their beds, their only responsibilities being the next day's homework.

Ah, the life of a high schooler.

Mentally, you flipped through your checklist for the evening. Eat, throw your swimsuit in the wash, do the dishes, facetime Ned and Peter (if he wasn't busy) about the chemistry project, finish writing an essay, and finally, sleep. If you worked diligently, you would be done by 11 pm, granted, you didn't spend two extra hours on the phone with your lab partners.

Your newfound friendship with the two boys hit you by surprise. Despite going to school with them your entire first year of high school, you never had any interactions with them. It wasn't purposeful, your paths had simply never crossed. At the beginning of sophomore year, you found yourself enjoying your group projects and labs thanks to the duo. Secretly, you were hoping this friendship would go somewhere, but you never had much luck with people. Something about them, though, was different. Especially Peter. You couldn't put a finger to it, but if things worked out in your favor, hopefully you would.

Entering onto a main road, you listened to the conversation happening around you. It shifted constantly, these freshmen being wildly unfocused, but the current topic was complaining about an English teacher that was widely hated by the entire school.

"His beady eyes give me nightmares!"

"The way he calls people out in class, like, if I'm not raising my hand, don't call on me!"

You were about to add a horror story of your own, but you never get that chance. A crunch, a jolt, and suddenly your car was spinning.

You had always heard that time passed slowly during a car crash, but you never had experienced that first hand. The words we've been in an accident pulsated in your mind, as you considered how you were going to manage taking care of the three younger girls trusted to be in your care by their parents. Of all the things to be on your mind.

There was a mysterious flash of red, another jolt, and your car stopped. Everything felt deathly still, shock eliminating all movement and voices in your vehicle. You stared straight and directly into the eyes of a red-masked man, You recognized him from various videos circulating Youtube. Spiderboy? Spiderthing? Spider something that was certain. The kicker, though, was not that a superhero had just saved your life. It was the voice that came from said superhero.

"Hey, is everyone all right?" Peter said.

Peter? No that can't be right.

Spiderperson coughed, "That's because it is not."

You hadn't realized you had said that aloud. The masked man looked around, blatantly taken aback. His face was covered, but his mannerisms told an entire story. However, the likelihood of Peter Parker, your dorky lab partner, stopping a car from spinning with nothing but muscle was pretty low. Peter was a small kid.

You glanced in the rear view mirror to see two girls with a haze over their eyes. The other next to you is staring at Spider dude in absolute shock. You go to turn around, needing to see if everyone was all right, but you yelped in pain from your ribcage.

“Miss, you have a broken rib. You must have been launched into the steering wheel before the airbag deployed. Let me help you out of the car,” the masked man moved from the hood to your left side, jerking open the door that simply fell off. He offered a hand, which you took. Unfortunately, standing up caused you to awkwardly pitch forward into him. Luckily he caught you and sat you down against the side of your obviously totaled car.

“A concussion as well. Stay here, I’m going to help your friends out,” he gave you an all-too enthusiastic thumbs up and leapt into action.

The police and an ambulance arrived only a few moments later, and out of the corner of your drooping eyes you saw the red silhouette talking to them, pointing in your general direction, then salute and launch himself away. Literally. With a magnificent jump he was off, swinging his way through the city of Queens like Tarzan.

“Miss, you’ve been in an accident, can you tell me your name?”

“Y/N. Who was that guy?”

“He calls himself Spider-Man. You know just about as much as I do. Probably even more. We’re going to load you onto a gurney now, ok?”

“Yeah sure.”

Spider-Man. Huh.

taglist (sort of)

@softboy-holland

@nasa-parker

[wearegroot01]

A Cute Idiot

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

A/n: So another repost of my first post from my terminated blog! Ugh this is frustrating... @becaamm @imamotherfuckingstar-lord @asweetandsassykiwi @softboy-holland @peters-vlogs @parker-peter-parker @whyisbuckyso

Ned and Peter sighed in unison once more as they sat in the school gym after hours. Somehow, thanks to you, they had signed up to clean up after the careers fair, and yes there were only three candidates.

“Man… why can’t the juniors do this cleaning junk,” Ned complained.

“Why do you think?” Peter asked, pointing at the piles of trash laying around everywhere.

Ned sobbed. “Dude, your girlfriend is mean…”

“Yeah…” Peter hummed, staring at you from across the hall. “I mean, no, she’s just, cute.”

“Peter? Snap out of it!” Ned threw a balloon at his face. “You’re gonna creep her out, man. Remember we said, if we ever got girlfriends, we’d make sure we wouldn’t-”

“Creep ‘em out, right…” He nodded and blushed.

You looked over to them and smiled. Peter nodded in acknowledgement, with a smile, trying his best to act cool. Ned just waved awkwardly.

“You guys gotta get up eventually,” you laughed, turning back to your work.

Ned gave Peter a pained look who returned the same expression.

“Peter,” your voice called.

“Hmm?”

“I need you,” you said, still looking at your work.

He grinned at Ned. “You hear that?” Peter said through his cocky smile. She needs me, he mouthed to him with a smirk.

“Niiiiiice,” Ned whispered, nodding slowly as they quickly performed their handshake and Peter skidded over to you.

He instantly lost his cool and turned awkward. “Hi – hey y/n, what do you need?” Peter stammered. You’d think a couple would be less awkward than the two of you were.

“Um, could you take that side of the banner? We need to take it down,” you informed.

“Yep.” He nodded quickly and tiptoed to reach to reach the top. “So, you look nice today,” he managed.

“R-really?”

“Mmm.” Peter detached the banner from its perch. “Really,” he assured, blushing profusely.

You giggled. “Thank you, you’re so sweet. You –you look adorable as always…” you murmured, taking her side of the banner down too.

He almost fell off his ladder, but luckily held on for dear life just in time.

You gasped. “Are you alright?!”

“Wha-”

And that’s when he suddenly realised he was on the wall. Sideways. He gulped. “Um, I-”

“How are you holding on like that?!”

He dropped onto the floor, as clumsily as possible. “NO IDEA!” He shrieked in pain.

“Oh! Poor baby!” You exclaimed as you slid down the ladder hastily.

Across the room, Ned gawked at him. Peter shook his head a little, despite being in considerable pain. He closed his mouth and acted cool – well as cool as Ned can get, anyway. “Geez Peter, so clumsy!” he said loudly, trying to help him, but he sounded pretty unconvincing.

You didn’t seem to notice however as you were too busy fussing over Peter.

“That was out of nowhere! How did you fall?” you asked with concern.

He laughed with pain. “You called me adorable, I got kind of dizzy…” he said truthfully, super glad you had already forgotten about the whole sticking to the wall thing.

Your eyes filled with warmth. “Aww,” you whispered quietly. “Okay well you can rest a little. Ned and I can clean for now.”

Ned groaned from the other end of the gym dramatically.

Peter sat in the corner, with an ice pack on his head, laughing at Ned without you seeing and teasing him. Like, ’haha you have to do all the work, peasant’, or ’I ain’t payin’ you for nothing, peon’.

Occasionally, you would turn back to him and smile warmly just to check up and occasionally Ned would tell him to stop being a baby. Which obviously didn’t work.

When the work was done, Ned rushed off in a hurry, only terribly winking at Peter as if to cheer him on though he still was mad. “You okay now, Peter?” You asked as you walked forwards before crouching down in front of him.

He smiled nervously, your sweet look making him just want to fall. Again. “I’m okay, t-thanks,” he quickly said.

“That’s great! Sorry for that, by the way,” you laughed sheepishly.

He shook his head. “No way, I’m kinda just an idiot.” He laughed back.

You smiled and leaned forward. “But I mean,” you whispered. “A cute idiot,” you finished, kissing his lips for a moment. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Y-yeah,” he said, a pink hue swept over his face. “Coming!”

[tripflare]

@tr2d2​​ reflects: ( x ;; not accepting )

19 & 20 for the self-reflection meme?

19. What does your muse think of their own life?

that’s the great part, he doesn’t--

no seriously lio is so selfless he doesn’t really think a lot about his own life, more about the lives of others and the burnish. they think about how privileged and willfully close-minded non-burnish tend to be, and think ‘what can i do to fix that’ or ‘can i make the lives of burnish better?’

...literally doesn’t think about his own life as an individual much at all, the closest thing he’ll ever get is his life as a burnish which immediately leads to his whole focus on responsibility for other people and it’s a sadboi hours loop for a dude so focused on the agency of others he has Next to None of his Own and it Drives me Nuts 

i’d like to think after the whole situation with the volcano he’s getting better since he ended up here before resolving that so he kind of thinks he’s the only burnish left and doesn’t really have anyone to take care of anymore??? but we’ll see we’ll see 

they could always end up adopting like 59023465 new weirdos who knows

20. What does your muse think of their own mun?

...........man PROBABLY HATES MY GUTS FOR REAL IN CONCEPTJKLDGLSFJSDFDJ but idk he’s an aquarius i’m a gemini in execution this mans gotta give me at least a B+ out of 10

gotta give me some credit for being what feels like 1 out of 20 ppl that don’t see him as a smol uwu softboy am i right ladi

[azaraspirit]

PIII for Songs For Someone Who Doesn’t Love Me Back

hey guys!!!! im proud to be sharing the third chapter with you all! again the original fic was written by my good friend @softboy-holland! she let me continue her fic so here’s the third and possibly final chapter!

You and Peter spent nearly the entire night in your bed, talking. You felt more closer to him than ever before. And not just because you were cuddling in bed. But like, emotionally, mentally closer.

“I really am sorry about Liz…” you spoke softly.

“It’s okay, I’m over it. Come to think of it, I never really liked her that much anyways…”

You sighed, unsure of what to do. You were never exactly a girlfriend before. Was there a manual for read for this kind of thing?

“You sure about that? Seemed like you were crazy about her.”

Peter started to play with your hair. “I’m not really sure...I just feel like our entire relationship was a lie…”

You reached up stroke his cheek, your eyes met. “It’s okay to be upset about this Peter…”

You could see that he wanted to cry.

“I’m not going to get upset of this.” he said sternly.

“Okay.” you replied. “I’m just saying you can…”

“I d-don’t want to…” A tear fell down his cheek. You wrapped your arms around him as he sunk into your chest, crying. “I feel like a joke…”

“You’re not a joke, Peter.” You tangled your fingers in his messy curls.

Peter cried himself to sleep, using you as a pillow. You eventually dozed off yourself.

Luckily it was Sunday so you and Peter didn’t have to worry about school. Your homework was already done so the following morning the two of you remained in your bed, Peter still asleep in his suit, curled up next to you.

You thought about school tomorrow. What would people think? As far as they knew, Peter and Liz were still together. But you and Peter were together...You thought about what to say to Liz, because you had A LOT of words to say, most of them not very nice. She needed to know what she did was wrong and that she upset Peter.

Peter stirred himself awake, his eyes a little red.

“Hey, sleepy head.” you cooed.

He rubbed his eyes. “I fell asleep in my suit?” You laughed. “You did. You hungry? I can make breakfast and bring it up here.”

“That sounds good…” he admitted.

“I’ll be back then okay? Maybe you can take a shower while I’m gone.”

He nodded.

You kissed your boyfriend before heading off to the kitchen.

“Hey, kiddo.” your father greeted.

“Hey, dad.”

“You seen Peter?”

Oh shit. No one else knows about you and Peter. So you lied. “Uh, no I haven’t. Not since yesterday.”

“Well tell him to come by today, okay?”

“Okay, dad.”

You weren’t that hungry so you just made breakfast for Peter. You said hi to a few other Avengers on the way up to your room.

You nearly dropped food you just made as you saw Peter half naked. Your cheeks turned red when he walked up to you. He already looked better than he did last night.

“You’re the best! Y/N!” he beamed, kissing you on the cheek as he took his food.

You giggled. “No one else knows your here just FYI.”

“I figured that since I didn’t exactly use the front door.” he chuckled, sitting down to eat the breakfast you made him.”

“I swear you’ve entered more windows than actual doors.”

He laughed. “You’re probably right.”

Peter ate as you got ready.

“I’ll use the front door this time, I promise. See you soon?”

When you were finished, he stood by the window in his suit. You nodded. And kissed him on the cheek, feeling the soft material of his suit.

You watched as he swung out of the window, disappearing from sight.

That’s when it hit you. You’re boyfriend was Spider-Man. HOLY SHIT.

You literally skipped down to the kitchen again. You were the only there as you made something to eat. You assumed Peter would be late as usual. Surely someone needed Spider-Man.

Instead Peter entered the kitchen less than an a half hour later.

“Hey!” you beamed as he hugged him.

He hugged you back.

“I was wondering, if we should tell everyone about us? I ask because I don’t know if I can keep my hands off you.” you laughed.

Peter chuckled. “We’re failing already.” he said, his arms still around you waist.

You blushed.

“About damn time.” Bucky suddenly spoke.

You two jumped, separating as you noticed the super soldier watching you.

“What do you mean?”

“I think you know.”

“We don’t….” Peter admitted.

“You don’t hug a friend like that.” he chuckled.

Your cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink. “Um about that…” you trailed off.

“You two are dating now aren’t you?” Bucky asked.

“Yes?” Peter squeaked.

Suddenly, Bucky rushed up to hug you both. “I’ve been waiting for this!” he exclaimed.

“Bucky!” you shouted.

He put you down, both of you trying to breathe again. “Sorry. I’m just really excited!”

“We noticed.” Peter said.

“Excited about what?” Steve asked as he walked up to them. “Y/N and Peter are dating now!” Bucky exclaimed.

Steve nearly choked. “I’m sorry, what?”

The new couple stood there awkwardly. “Uuuuh yeah. We are.” said Peter.

Steve smiled. “Well congrats you two. You are pretty cute together.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Bucky agreed.

“What happened to your last girlfriend though?” Loki suddenly appeared next to them.

“Loki!” you scolded.

“Uh, it’s a long story.” said Peter.

“I hate it when you do that.” you told Loki.

He just shrugged.

“You’re not an avenger, what are you doing here?” Bucky growled.

“My brother is an avenger, doesn’t that count for something?” Loki smirked.

“Adopted brother.” Steve corrected.

“I think of you two as brothers.” Loki said.

“Thanks but no thanks.”

“Anyways, about you two-hey where did they go?” Steve was surprised to see Peter and Y/N have vanished.

“I guess the idea of us being brothers scared them. It scares me too.” snickered Bucky.

“You’re mean.” whined Loki before walking away.

“That’s only because I don’t like you.”

“You’re brutal honesty concerns me sometimes.” Steve admitted.

Bucky just shrugged in response.

*

“Loki still creeps me out.” said Peter after you two snuck away from them.

“He’s not all that bad.” you admitted. “I kinda like him. “We train together a lot.”

Peter just rolled your eyes. “What about your dad? I don’t know if Tony will approve...he might kill me.”

“Maybe.”

Peter’s eyes widened.

“I’m kidding!” you joked.

“Don’t scare me like that!”

You laughed. Peter was such a dork.

“Well the sooner we tell my dad the better.”

“Tell your dad what?”

They shouted as Tony Stark appeared into the room with a mug in hand.

The shared a startled look.

“You guys need to tell me something?”

“Um kinda.” you said.

Tony narrowed his thick dark eyebrows.

Peter gulped. Suddenly he couldn’t speak. Instead he slowly laced his fingers with yours. Your cheeks flushed with a deep shade of pink.

Your father stared at your two laced hands. You weren’t sure of his reaction. He looked more shocked than angry.

“Oh...so you two are…”

“Together.” you finished. “Peter’s my boyfriend, Dad.”

Peter gulped, ready to flee in case Tony went into protective dad mode.

Tony smiled, something that truly shocked you.

“Y-you’re not mad?” you asked.

“Why would I be mad? I was hoping you two would end up together.”

“Uuuuh are you really Tony Stark? You sure you’re not an alien clone?” Peter asked.

Tony laughed. “No kid, it’s me. Seriously I’m stoked for you two. Just remember kid that Y/N is my daughter so I will kill you if you hurt her.”

“Dad! Don’t scare him!”

“It’s okay, I was expecting this. And don’t worry, Mr. Stark, I will protect Y/N with my life.”

“Thatta boy.” Tony sipped his coffee.

*

The rest of the day went pretty smoothly. Dinner was buzzing with excitement as by then all the avengers and Loki knew you and Peter were dating.

“But seriously, what about the other girl?” Loki pressed.

Peter sighed as he held your hand tightly under the table. “She dumped me.”

“Where is she? I will make her feel the wrath of the mighty Thor!”” Thor shouted.

“Calm down, brother.” Loki said.

“Thanks Thor but we don’t want to smite her.” you scolded.

“Still she should be punished for hurting my pupil.” Tony said.

“Dad.”

“I can make her disappear.” Nat suggested.

“I could shoot her with an arrow.” spoke Clint.

“Guys!” you shouted, surprising everyone. “No one is hurting anyone okay? I plan to have a little chat with her tomorrow.”

“You do?” Peter asked.

“Use that scissor lock I taught you.” said Nat.

You just groaned.

*

The following night Peter and you stood in your room by the window, arms around each other. “I don’t want you to go.” you pouted.

“I know but Aunt May will kill me if I stay the night during a school night.”

You sunk into his chest even further.

“Don’t do this Y/N. We’ll see each other at school tomorrow okay?”

You looked up at him with sad puppy dog eyes.

“Y/N I have to go.”

You gave your boyfriend a tight hug. He hugged you back. “Text me when you get home safe.” you said.

“I will.”

You reluctantly let go of Peter. He gave you a nice long kiss before putting on his mask. “Good night Y/N.”

“Good night Spider-Man.”

With that said, Peter disappeared into the night.

*

You were excited about school tomorrow, but also nervous. No one else knew about you and Peter. That is unless Liz told everyone. Anger boiled inside you at the thought of Liz again. You ready to tell her off for hurting Peter.

“You ready?” Peter asked as you stood outside of school, holding hands.

“Totally.” You gave him a quick kiss on the lips before entering the school.

The first ones to notice your hand holding were your two best friends, Ned and MJ.

“Dude why are you holding hands?” Ned asked.

“We’re dating!” you beamed.

Your friends stared at you confused.

“Lis dumped me the other day.” Peter told them.

“Seriously?” MJ asked. “That doesn’t sound like her.”

“Well she was cheating on me nearly the whole time.”

“Shit, Peter.” said Ned.

“It’s okay, Y/N and I are together now so it’s all good.”

“A little fast don’t ya think?” MJ winked at you.

You rolled her eyes. “Very funny.”

Someone caught your eye. “Hey, I gotta use the restroom, be right back.” You pecked Peter on the cheek before heading to the ladies room.

“I’ll go with you!”

God damn it. You didn’t really want back up but you couldn’t say no as MJ followed you into the bathroom.

A few moments later, Liz stepped out of the stall.

“Oh, hey guys.” she greeted nervously.

You clenched your fists, wanting to punch her lights out.

“I need to say something to you.” you told her.

“Sorry, but I need to get to class.” she said.

“No, you need to hear this.”  you said sternly.

Liz stood there awkwardly, unable to leave for you and MJ blocked the door.

“You really hurt Peter the other night, dumping him like that. You could have done better. You were with your ex for nearly two months. You had plenty of chances to end things with Peter properly but you didn’t. That was a dick move, Liz. He came to my room upset. He cried himself to sleep while I held him in my arms. He feels like that entire time with him was a lie. You realize how much that will hurt his confidence? I don’t think you do.” You paused. “Peter and I are together now and I know for a fact that I will never hurt him like you did, Liz.”

“Damn, Y/N.” MJ spoke.

Liz looked shocked more than anything. Her eyes were watery. “I have to go.” she managed, forcing herself through you and MJ.

“Is that why you came in here?”az

“Damn right.”

“You told her.” You and MJ did a hi-five.

You left the bathroom feeling more confident than ever, you arm laced with MJ’s.

“Welcome, back ladies. Have fun?” Ned teased.

“Loads of fun.” MJ answered.

You stood next to Peter, taking his hand again, squeezing it. You shared a soft smile, remembering your words to Liz.

“We better get to home room guys.” Peter spoke up.

With that, the four of you headed off to class, your fingers laced with Peter’s. You would never hurt Peter like that, never.

[hipsterareus]

Okay. So I just wanted to throw my words out into the void because it’s really starting to get to me and seeing everyone else’s feelings have helped so I’m hoping I can help someone else too.

About a year and a half ago I was really struggling with identity and who I was as a person. I didn’t really have a direction and kinda just matched the personality of whoever I was with (update: it was terrible and made me feel like I wasn’t a real person and caused many emotional breakdowns and lots of junk). It was the holidays when all this came to a point (a time I already tend to struggle with because of broken family), I just failed out of school because of stress, and I was fired from my job because I was trying to balance school while working 60 hours a week and I finally just couldn’t keep going. All of this broke whatever routine I had and the scraps of charcter I had residing in that routine fell away. I just felt so lost and nebulous and the effect this had on the people I loved and cared about.. it ate me away.

I spent about two month being sad and empty and feeling like nothing and during that month I found comfort in media. I watched a lot of movies and YouTube videos and got into the Tumblr Illustrative community (not participating but just seeing everything and following people and stuff). I got better, reorganized my life and started working a job I’m still at and in love with, enrolled in school again for the summer semester and started the road of recovery from my low point.

Specifically, during that time where I was at my lowest, I got really into Nick Robinson’s content on polygon, which typically I sorta stayed away from. I binged almost all his videos he did, started playing video games specifically because he recommend them. I would stay up late and watch his streams he did. I know it’s stupid, but I felt like I was friends with the guy. Like I knew about him, and his life. Like if I had to tell someone a list of my best friends, he would be on it.

I have all these memories that I hold close to me that involve his content in it. I remember laying on my girlfriends bedroom floor and watching his stream he made with Griffin about hearthstone and loving that she was watching it with me. I remember my best friend josh and I laughing so hard we were crying at cool games inc when we road tripped down to his apartment. I remember staying up late in pajamas and sitting cross legged on my bed watching car boys and getting teary eyed at parts. At the finale, literally sobbing and writing like three different think pieces on it, because of how amazing it was that some goofy anime boy could of made such moving material.

And basically what it came down to, is that it felt like he helped me, personally, get over my feeling of blankness. And I know that’s stupid. I know that’s insane of me to attach these things. But it really did. I look at myself in the mirror and I see myself and I’m happy. I know who I am. I have a personality that’s defined, I have interests, and goals, and hobbies. And a lot of it is because of him. After a year and a half of filling a lot of my time with his stuff, showing people his content, he became a really important part of my life. I watched anime because of him, I felt safe just being able to be pc and nonproblematic and felt valid in doing so because of him and the whole SoftBoy™ image he put out. I listened to an entire genre of music I would of never touched if it wasn’t for him. I based what I wanted my career to be off him because I thought it was amazing he could inspire this kind of feeling in me and I wanted to give that to someone too. Fuck, even my haircut was based off his because I thought he was cool and I wanted to be cool too.

It just sucks so much because I looked up to him. Honestly, truly, I looked up to him so much. I saw him and thought “man I hope I can be like that one day.” And this whole time, he’s been using his influence to get woman to flirt with him and give him nudes, to meet up with him and do stuff, and then manipulate them into silence after doing things. NOT TO FUCKING MENTION all the while dating sailorbee, a sweet innocent flower who is absolutely wonderful. I’m just grossed out that this figure who I really looked up to, that I based so much of my personality on, that literally helped bring me to be the person I am today.. has been a scum bag and a cheat. Apparently, this whole time as well.

I know I’m probably being some OverlySensitiveMillennial™ who cares too much about random internet people but.. I don’t know my dudes. It just really sucks. I know I’m irrelevant in the universe but I just wanted to say to the victims of his harassment and the people tied closely to him that I’m so fucking sorry that he did this. I’m sorry that by being a fan of his I helped to create a fan base he used to scare people into silence. I hope you all are doing as okay as you can and I wish you all the best I can.

This all sucks but. I hope at least this can help make someone feel like they aren’t alone in their feeling of betrayal. If anyone wants to talk and vent, I’m here for ya

[tellywoodtrash]

immj2 02.11.20 lb

this fucking episode my dudes. i just went through it like...

business maharani is doing some more bitchification of bhaabi, ki dekho phir nikal gayi aapke peeche. even used the same lameass mandir excuse, the idiot, instead of coming up with something new.  

hubs like riddhima is a major pain in the ass, but she's MY PAIN IN THE ASS, where isss sheeee, why isn't she back yet???????? is she ok????????????

ishani getting a call about someone in the hospital and......

bitch, it's her friend who's in the hospital. why the fuck would anyone call ISHANI of all people if riddhima was in the hospital????

lo aa gayi.

gujarat registration gaadi waale bhaiyya was a careful driver. unlike literally everyone else on tellywood. good for him.

concern!maxxxxxxxxxxx about her haalat.

asks about her bleeding hand and she's like i'll tell you if you tell me about how YOUR hand got hurt. noice.

again, rrahul's not putting on the vansh voice in this scene and it's 300% more watchable. for the love of god stop directing him in a way that impedes his performance!!!!!!! LET THE MAN MOVE HIS FACE AND TALK IN HIS NORMAL VOICE!!!!!!!!!!!

cliche dialogue about “shareer ke ghaav jaldi bhar jaate hain par dil ke ghaav..........”

this asshole is like yeah who would know that better than me???? BITCH WHAT IS THIS, THE TRAUMA OLYMPICS???

she's thinking ki yeah, i'm not gonna fall for your fakeass parwaah anymore. good. i like. she needed this stupidass illusion of her's broken longggggggggg back.

ohohohohoho ib waala mangalsutra breaking and slipping off trope idhar bhi hai.

“tooti hui cheezein kabhi kabhi dobara nahi judti.”

dialogue maarke chali gayi, lol.

but notice she's the one who caught it anyway. which makes me think she's gonna choose him/this relationship YET AGAIN. *deeeeeeeepest sigh in the world that sucks up all the oxygen in the atmosphere*

“jaise mera dil.”

OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOH.

“lekin ab waqt aa gaya hai bohut se cheezon ko sahi karne ka.”

again, he looks menacing and all, but is probably just talking about making sure all the paperwork is up to date for upcoming end of year audits. he's a very rich accountant, remember???

ragini's medical reports have come.

lol being married to ishani is taking yearssssssss off angre's lifespan. roz naya tension, naya drama.

also, angre refers to vansh as "vansh bhai" when talking about him to ishani, but calls him "boss" when referring directly. interesting. veryyyyyyyyyyyyyyy interesting. you guys need to sort out that relationship, my dudes. it's the only stable, healthy one in this whole damn show.

ishani is like you're his right hand, what the hell are you doing about riddhima spying on him and getting all up in his business???????? dang, this might be the first conversation they're having about their only common interest: vansh's well being.

also i notice ki shivaay ke saare shirts angre ko diye gaye hain. huh, the shirts must have a kanji eyed wearer clause in their contract.

“mujhe shakti dijiye ke main apne emotions se upar uthke sahi ke saath khadi rahoon.”

damn, first time i've had a lil respect for riddhima. i mean, i know ultimately it's all gonna go to shit, but she's trying.

lmao a dhaarmik aarti version of the title track is playing. a version for every situation!

“main ragini ko bacha ke rahoongi. yeh mera aapse, ragini se, aur apne aap se vaada hai.”

YESSSSSSSSSSS BITCH, SISTERS OVER MURDEROUS MISTERS!!!!!!!!!!!

OMG WHY WON'T Y'ALL JUST DRESS HIM LIKE THIS, LIKE ARNAV, WITH THE SHIRT AND SWEATER COMBOOOOOOOOOOOOO. PLS GODDDDDDDDDDDD STOP DRESSING HIM WITH THAT STUPID SCARF WAALA BLAZERRRRRRRRRRRRR I BEG OF YOUUUUUUUUUU

he's talking to some shadow (def a woman) about how they're his humraaz about the whole ragini issue and nothing is hidden from them and how everything is going as they planned and the story will end soon.

it might be siya but omg i hope to goddddddddddddd it's ishani. i really really reallly want it to be ishani and see the hot demon siblings do some scheming and planning together. the sibs that conspire together, stay together!!!!!!!!!

menacing growling about riddhima and how he needs shadow chick's help in "handling" her, so that she doesn’t leave the house.

“chaahe VR mansion uske liye jail bann jaaye, i don't care.” cool, real healthy. also copied from this week's naagin 5. i'm telling you, these two shows be copying their homework off each other.

vansh leaning real hard on how he trusting shadow chick. hmmmm. reallyyyy hope it's ishani. though can’t say i wouldn’t be delighted if siya also turns out to be just as fucking twisted as him.

ofc ms. snoopy here has come to snoop. SIS TUM THAK NAHI JAATI KYA ISS SAB SE. MUJHE TOH DEKHTE HI THAKAAN HO GAYI HAI AND I NEEDS ME SOME GLUCON D.

“ragini riddhima se jeete-jee milna toh door, usse dekh bhi na sake.”

uh a little too late for that my man, lol. your girls already had a catchup session this afternoon. they're going for brunch and manis next weekend!

oh ho, she knows that angre's gone out. so this is def someone else in the house. DAMN, I'M REALLY INVESTED IN THIS SHADOW NOW.

yaaar, kya haalat bana rakhi hai shivaay ke room ki. best room hota tha iss set ka, aur isko bas ek random space banaa rakha hai.

ASLKFJSLDKJFLSDKJFLDKSF

this fucker crazyyyyy. like fulllll on flipping cray cray!!!!!!!!!!!!!

wow ok he's shaking from rage. more unhinged than i've ever seen him. which is really something. something scary as fuckkkkkkkk.

kudos to riddhima for just being like same old, same old, instead of being scared. i'm really liking i-give-no-fucks-riddhima.

DUDE. THIS FUCKER HAS COMPLETELY LOST IT.

also knife play copied from shivaay. this dude like a much much worse version of shivaay. never thought that would be possible, but never say never with ITV and the year 2020.

ok i don't like this angry version of him that's outta control, all shaking and growling and panting. not only is it really bad acting, it's hard to take seriously as menacing. ppl are always scarier when they're ice fucking cool with their anger.

blah blah blah some more growled warnings and riddhima and i are just here like............. “ok and????”

she's not even allowed to leave the room.

oooooh brave sis questioning him back and provokingggggggggg himmmmmmmmmm. got a death wish, this one, but i like her like this. i was sick of her just collapsing all over the place weeping. thaaaaaank god she found her longlost backbone.

“tum jaise haiwaan ki baat kabhi nahi maanungi.”

sarcastic slow clapping and slightly turned on by this show of dheentness.

“chalo aaj tumhari bahaaduri ko celebrate karte hain.”

uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

“piyo, zeher nahi milaaya hai ismein.”

OK NOW THAT YOU SAID THAT I'M DEFINITELY THINKING THAT YOU HAVE.

omg ridhhimaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa you idiottttttt.

ok he's def put something in it. his face almost looking pitying as he takes the glass back.

“jaao. jahaan jaana hai jaao. nahi rokunga tumhe.”

ohhhhhhhhhh boy.

dslkfjsdlfkjdslkfjdslkjflkd her legs don't work no moreeeeeeeee.

THIS FUCKERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. JESUS CHRIST THIS CRAZY ASS FUCKING D;SLFKJ;SLDKFJ;LDSKJF;LDKJ

EVEN THE CHANNEL PUTTING BIG BOLD DISCLAIMER OVER THE SCENE LIKE THIS SHIT IS SERIOUSLY UNHINGED AND FICTIONAL THE CHANNEL ABSOLUTELY DOES NOT CONDONE THIS FUCKING MADNESSSSSSSSS

I CANNOT STOP SCREAMING THIS FUCKERRRRRRR IS OH MY FUCKING GOD WHAT THE EVER LOVING FUCK IS THIS THIS SHIT IS MAKING 4 LIONS MEN LOOK LIKE SOFT CUDDLY LIL SOFTBOIS I AM LITERALLY GOING OUTTA MY MIND WITH RAGE AND ANGUISH WHAT THE FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

i need a break. i seriously need a break to go cuddle my cat coz my god this deranged fucking showwwwwwwwwww.

ok cuddle break done. i’m not feeling any better but at least the tears of blood have stopped flowing from my eyes?

all i gots to say at this point is that CHEELANSHU SINGHANIA FROM NAAGIN 5 WOULD NEVER DO THIS. ONCE AGAIN SANKIIII CHEEL BOY >>>>>>>>>>>>>>> HUMAN MEN.

“haiwaan hoon main. rakshas hoon. aur rakshas kuch bhi kar sakta hai.”

electric chair for you, dude. ELECTRIC FUCKING CHAIR, GREEN MILE STYLE.

he literally gave her a paralytic.

“isse ek luxury relaxing spa treatment ki tarah enjoy karna.”

OMG I WISH I HAD SOMEONE MAKE ME SLIP INTO A PARALYTIC COMAAAAAAAAAA WHAT ELSE COULD A GIRL WANT FROM PRINCE CHARMING UWU TRUE WUVVVVVVVVV

omg inn paplu taplu ka chip waala naatak abhi bhi chal raha hai BIGGER THINGS HAVE HAPPENED IN THE HOUSE YOU IDIOTS KEEP THE FUCK UP LITERALLY NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOUR SADAA HUA MEMORY CARD ANYMOREEEEEEEEEE

anyway they decide to put it in the bank locker. omg why though, under the mattress was suchhhhhhh a safe and secure spot!!! badal kyun rahe ho tum log?!?!?!!?!?

“good morning.”

sis, lower half is paralysed. haath abhi bhi kaam kar rahein haina??? PICK UP WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU CAN GET YOUR HANDS ON AND HURL IT AT HIS FUCKING HEADDDDDDDDDDD

“don't worry, bas kuch der ki baat hai. uske baad tum apne pairon pe khadi ho sakti ho. main tumhari help kar deta hoon.”

TELLL HIM SIS. TELL HIM TO STAY THE FUCK AWAY AND NEVER EVER COME WITHIN A 3 DISTRICT RADIUS OF YOU. 

“phir se zidd. tumhara naam riddhima nahi, ziddhima hona chahiye tha.”

ok can't deny i lol'd at that.

OK NO BACK TO HATING HIM. PUNS WILL GET YOU NOWHERE WITH ME, YOU BLOODY PSYCHOPATH.

“abhi toh bas ek chota dose diya hai jiska asar sirf 10 ghante rehta hai.”

oh how sweet. such a considerate husband. Star Parivaar Pati of The Year you are. haan behen, aur rakho aise pati ke liye karwachauth.

“agar baat nahi maaani, toh agla dose double hoga.”

seriously though, where can i get one of these? all i want is to be put in a coma so that i don't have to be conscious anymore. esp with the USA election today............ give me a 5x dose, daddy.

YEAH RIGHT LIKE SHE'S EVER GONNA CONSUME ANYTHING YOU OFFER HER EVER AGAIN LOL

“tum chaahe kitni bhi koshish karlo vansh, main tumhe ragini ko nuksaan pohunchaane nahi dungi.”

determination toh behen ka top classssssssssssss hai. where do ppl get such mental will from? i face the slightest inconvenience and i need a 6 hour nap to cope.

LMAO VANSH YOU DUMBASS YOU LEFT HER WITH HER PHONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. YOU KNOW SHE'S A SPY AND HAS SOMEONE ON THE OUTSIDE. YOU WANTED HER NOT TO GET TO RAGINI BUT NOW SHE CAN JUST CALL WHOEVER SHE’S WORKING WITH TO GET RAGINI THE HELP. GOD, BEWAKOOFON KI TOLI HAI YEH SHOWWWWWWWW.

ab yaad aayi kabir ki. my god, he seems like such a mellow weirdo now compared to vansh, just into some casual costume-changing and quasi fratricide. almost a tolerable level of deranged compared to this other fucking madman.

sent a voice note to him.

SHE HEARD SOMEONE COMING AND FLUNG THE PHONE ACROSS THE ROOM INTO A PILE OF CLOTHES. OH HO WHYYYYYYYYYYYY, YOU COULD HAVE LITERALLY JUST HID IT BACK UNDER THE PILLOWS WHERE YOU FOUND IT!?!?!??!?!?!?

“hi riddhima! tumhe iss haal mein dekh kar, dil ko bohut sukoon mil raha hai.”

asldkfsjflkjdslfkjdl i honestly love her the most. she's so fucking petty and hilarious.

ishani is like thank god bhai has seen fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinally seen your real face.

“sirf vansh ne hi nahi, inn sab mein maine bhi vansh ka asli chehra dekh liya hai.”

“kya matlab hai tumhara?!?!!”

ok, i'm thinking ishani is shadow girl. from day 1, she’s wanted riddhima to see vansh in a certain way; as someone dangerous, the way he projects himself. (as opposed to dadi and siya who want her to see his soft side.) this statement from riddhima makes her wary that did she get close to the actual truth. INTERESTING. VERYYYYYYYYY INTERESTINGGGGG.

she's now grumbling about how vansh treats her much better than she actually deserves. I REALLY WANT MORE INSIGHT INTO THIS BROTHER SISTER RELATIONSHIP THEY HAVE IT'S SO INTRIGUINGGGGGGGG

le, kapde chale gaye laundry. phone ke saath.

———————————————————————

precap: kabir listened to the voice note and now him and mummy are in panic about ragini disclosing the truth about 3 years ago. RE DEVAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. OFC THESE TWO WERE INVOLVED IN THAT KAAND TOO. LITERALLY EVERY ONE IN THIS SHOW IS A DERANGED MENACE TO SOCIETY.

kabir coming to meet riddhima.

but ofc.

ugh she turned back saying “K.........” and he's like there's literally no one in this house whose name starts with K.

*facepalms for allllll eternity till my godforsaken face itself falls off.*

i think i’ll go watch s2 of mirzapur now. i need something ~~~light and fluffffffffffy~~~ to take my mind off whatever the FUCK this was.

[jamesclder-blog]

hi it’s me cj, back with yet another rich baby boy. this one is james rohan calder, a sweet little fuckboy (more like a softboy but ya feel me). as per usual, i’m gonna throw some facts at you below the cut (there’s a lot, it’s like i have more and more to say about each new character) and hope that it all makes sense so enjoy and hit me up for plots~

(speaking of plots, i’m gonna be putting up wanted connections pages on all three of my kids so i’ll post another ooc thing when those are done ok adios)

twenty-three

studying both photography and studio art

president of mu nu theta

is the only (adopted) child of a now retired diplomat that hails from old money (and now spends his nights as an artist) and an heir to a large chain of luxury hotels

aka he has two dads and they’re great

he was always the new kid at school as his fathers liked to move from place to place, never staying long enough to really plant any roots in one particular location

this didn’t have a negative impact on him, though. after residing in six different countries, he’s picked up four different languages and is able to start a conversation with almost anyone. his travels have also influenced him as a photographer and artist. he loves travelling to new places, even if they’re within new york, to explore

his parents decided to settle in new york when james was sixteen so he hasn’t been here for long but it already feels like home. he still travels during the summers but he enjoys being able to make friends and not worry about having to leave in a few months

is stupidly smart but he doesn’t do much with it. he’s always been under the impression that the repercussions of his actions will never catch up to him, as he’s usually able to talk himself out of a mess or pay someone off, so he’s perpetually fucking things up

it’s definitely entertaining to watch from the outside, though

he’s a regular hedonist, enjoying the finer things in life, but what’s an artist without their addictions? 

he comes across like a fuckboy but he’s not reALLY.....at least he tells himself that. he’s one of those guys that kinda gets off on making sure that people know he has feelings and, on top of that, know that he’s okay with having those feelings, if that makes any sort of sense

that’s a lot of shit wow ok so ....have some more meaningless stuff

collects rare books because his dads have a massive library and used to make him sit for hours and read instead of going outside to play

can walk around outside for hours just looking at shit, photographing shit, sketching shit. he likes people plenty but he prefers being by himself

is super into thai food. will kill for thai food.

always orders a redbull vodka bc he’s disgusting

is a fan of the ladies

but also dudes too

basically anyone

has a massive boner for snow and the cold and everything winter

ok i’m done love me

[zalrb]

YASSS ZAL, just read your post about the guy from work. Got me wondering what your type is. P.S. totally get what you meant about physical vs intellectual chemistry (I'm going through my own problem atm)

The problem with me is that the guys I usually end up having a thing with ... It goes either one of two ways, either he is the soft boy phenomenon: https://byrslf.co/have-you-encountered-the-softboy-7e95e2c7f3e7 so it's this intense emotional chemistry and angst but fundamentally toxic because he's a dick and emotionally unavailable and manipulative and we both know this but the tension is hella strong, I almost fell victim to that again last year but older, wiser you know the drill. Or it's the I literally can't stand you we argue all the time I actually legitimately want to punch you in the face but also there is sexual tension confusing the hell out of me which only aggravates me more so the fighting gets worse until it actually leads somewhere (this is why DE annoys me because I know exactly what type of vibe they're going for and they do not hit it). The dude upstairs is neither of these. We have pleasant conversations and we bicker and debate but like we don't have the tension of the aforementioned two scenarios that warranted being shoved against a wall and kissed at the workplace after hours or not, like if it is anything it's a slow build but the way he came on I don't know where he thinks we are lmao so we need to adult and communicate. What's your situation?

[arugula98]

Dudes will either fuck me twice in the span of 2 hours and then sleep in my bed and then leave without even complimenting me or saying anything nice to me even ONCE and then never text me back until i get a “Wyd” text a few days later , OR , they’ll be weirdly obsessed w me giving me corny ass softboi compliments all the time like “I love your artist vibes...” and then when i don’t answer their text in 20 minutes be be like “I fucked that up didn’t i 😔” like oh my god CHILL OUT ......... PLZ GOD GIVE ME A HAPPY MEDIUM I’M Going to end my shit

Plz miss me w that cornball shit ….. Im so much cooler than every guy on earth it’s exhausting