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late-to-the-party-81 · 9 months ago

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New starts happen all the time

AN: Here I am, still clearing out my outstanding requests, and it's been a minute since I wrote some Starker

Anonymous asked: Peter Parker sleeps with tony and makes the mistake of wearing his boyfriends favorite boyband t-shirt to school. Request

Now, I know this is probably not the story you thought you were going to get with this prompt, but the muse does what it does. I hope you all enjoy anyway. I now know more about Engineering classes at MIT than I ever thought I would know. Also, no massive age gaps here, only about 3-4 years.

Unbeta'd, so apologies for typos and rogue comma's.

Likes are loved, reblogs are golden.

Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

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Summary: MIT is still a big adjustment, even when you are gifted, and bullies still exist, so it’s a good job Peter falls at Tony’s feet.

Relationship: College Peter Parker x College Tony Stark

Word Count: 6.4k

CW: College AU, No Powers, Strangers to friends, Friends to lovers, developing relationship, Gay Peter Parker, Pansexual Tony Stark, insecure Peter Parker, inexperienced Peter Parker, Supportive Tony Stark, Confident Tony Stark, Fluff, Angst, Bullying, name calling, attempted Sexual Assault, Background Rhodey/Maria, BAMF Maria Hill, Justin Hammer is a douche, Explicit Sexual content (oral sex, mutual masturbation).

“Watch it, nerd!”

Peter tried to right himself as he bounced off the shoulder of whoever had just shouted at him. He had hoped that once he’d swapped Midtown High for the hallowed halls of MIT that he wouldn’t have to deal with this sort of thing any more. However it appeared that college, even one where technically every student was a nerd or a geek, was still slave to the various cliques and sub-groups. The jocks were definitely those who majored in Astronautics, and those who studied Business Analytics liked to look down on everyone else, assured of the fact that their degrees would lead to higher paying jobs than someone doing a lowly science or engineering degree.

He readjusted the pile of books in his arms as he tried to work out if he was going the right way. Two weeks into his Freshman year and he still hadn’t gotten the layout of campus straight in his head. It didn’t help that he’d decided to Double Major in both Electrical and Mechanical Engineering, so always seemed to be coming and going.

And now he was late for his next class.

He hiked his backpack higher on his shoulder and started to jog towards his destination. However, the infamous Parker luck was once again on his side, or not, as the case may be, and suddenly he found himself tripping over a stone, or maybe it was even his own feet, and crashing to the ground.

For a few moments, Peter lay dazed, the taste of gritty dirt and the tang of iron in his mouth.

“Hey, kid,” a voice called out, “are you alright?”

Peter pushed himself up with a groan and shook his head to try and clear it.

“Be careful,” the voice said, closer than it was a moment ago, and suddenly there were a pair of hands gripping his upper arms, easing him into a sitting position. He blinked a couple of times, the way the sunlight was falling onto his face making him wince, but then the light was blocked out by a body and Peter gasped.

Back in highschool he had wondered why he wasn’t really interested in girls the way the other boys were. It had taken him a while to realise that he was gay, and once he’d made that revelation, he wondered why it had taken him so long to work it out. He supposed that it was all down to a hetero-normative society and all that.

However, if he were still in any doubt, the sight of the man before him and the way he was affecting Peter’s equilibrium - although maybe that was from his fall - was enough to bring his own understanding of his sexuality into crystalline focus.

“I hope you haven’t got a concussion, kid. But you do have a nasty cut on your lip.”

The guy was speaking but all Peter could focus on was his features, his tousled brown hair, thick eyebrows, equally dark eyes, perfectly straight nose and pouty pink lips.

“Here, have some water.”

As a water bottle was pressed to his lips, the pressure against the cut he’d apparently sustained jerked Peter back to reality. He took hold of the bottle with shaking hands and gulped down a few mouthfuls, eager to remove the horrible taste from his mouth.

“Umm, thanks,” he stammered out and tried to pass the bottle back to his erstwhile rescuer.

“Keep it. You might want it later, and to be honest, it has your blood on it, and while I’m kinky, I’m not that kinky.”

At the strangers words, Peter felt himself blush, because firstly, he was currently a vanilla as they came - mainly due to circumstance than anything else - and secondly, it conjured all sorts of images to his mind that he should not be having about someone he just met, regardless of how attractive they were.

“Thanks. Again.” Jeez, Parker. Way to show off your vocabulary.

“No problem, kid. Where’re you heading to in such a hurry?”

Horror swept over Peter’s face and he leapt to his feet, although he wobbled a bit.

“Shit, I’m gonna be late to Professor Hart’s class on Systems Design.” He desperately tried to pick up all of his books, but as soon as he bent over the world started to spin. He’d have fallen again if it hadn’t been for the stranger taking hold of him again.

“Hey, be careful,” he cautioned, before steering Peter over to a bench. “Let me.”

Peter watched as the other man collected all of his scattered belongings, trying not to stare at the way his ass filled out his jeans as he bent over. When he returned with all of Peter’s books stacked in his arms and Peter’s backpack over his shoulder, Peter looked away, worried about being caught staring. Some guys got weird about other guys looking at them, and Peter didn’t have enough experience to have a working gaydar yet.

“Come on then, let’s get you there.”

Confusion wrinkled Peter’s brow. “What do you mean? Get me where?”

His rescuer smiled at him. “Your class. I’m going the same way.”

“Oh. Umm, okay. Thanks.” Maybe it was head trauma that was affecting his ability to speak with any eloquence?

Peter stood up, and winced as he moved his left knee, actually glad that his hopefully new friend was carrying his stuff for him.

“I’m Peter, by the way. Peter Parker.”

“Tony,” the other man replied. “Tony Stark.”

It turned out that not only was Tony a fellow student, but being a Senior he was also a TA. Like Peter he was also a double major, taking Electrical Engineering as well, but had paired it with Biological Engineering. Therefore, with Tony assisting in some of the EE classes, Peter started to see him fairly often.

“You did well today, kid.” Peter willed himself not to blush at the praise as Tony clapped him on the shoulder as they left the Introductions to Algorithms class.

“Thanks, Tony. Once I’d got my head around the paradigm shift it wasn’t too bad. Thanks for help with that.”

The pair of them walked together towards one of the coffeeshops and Tony playfully judged his shoulder against Peter’s.

“No problem. Anything for a pretty face.”

Peter had also learnt a couple of other things about Tony over the last few weeks. Firstly, due to a combination of his outgoing, charismatic nature and the fact that he - or rather his father - was loaded, Tony was one of the most popular people on campus. People were always stopping him to say hi, and Tony generally had a friendly word for all of them.

Secondly, Tony was into heavy metal. Like really into it. He was always wearing a t-shirt plastered with the picture of one band or another; AD/DC, Black Sabbath, Pantera etcetera, often humming a tune under his breath when he was concentrating.

Thirdly, he was a massive flirt who’s love language was definitely physical affection. The first time that Peter had met Tony’s best friend and roommate, James Rhodes, Tony had been walking arm in arm with him, and when they’d stopped so James could peel off towards his Military Sciences class, Tony had given him a smacking kiss on the cheek. When Peter had tentatively asked if James was Tony’s boyfriend, the brash senior had just laughed.

“Nah. Rhodey’s as straight as a flag pole, more’s the pity. Why, you vying for the position?” He’d thrown Peter a theatrical wink and chuckled as Peter had gone bright pink. From then on he seemed to make it his mission to make Peter blush as much as possible, which didn’t help with Peter’s promise to himself to not think about Tony ‘that way’.

However, by and large, Tony had become his best friend. Sure, as the weeks passed Peter had gotten to know others in his classes and was building himself a circle of peers that he got on well with, but it wasn’t the same. He knew that he was infatuated by Tony, but who wouldn’t be. He was handsome, clever and popular, and Peter loved basking in his radiance. It also didn’t hurt that when he was hanging around with Tony other students were less likely to pick on him. Unfortunately he couldn’t spend all his time with the older boy, and was therefore still subjected to the kind of taunts he’d thought he’d left behind. At least no-one was trying to shove him in a locker.

The fall semester progressed, the leaves turning brown and dropping to the ground, and before Peter knew it he was visiting home for Thanksgiving weekend. While it was nice to catch up with his Aunt May and his old school friends, Ned and MJ, he found himself waiting to go back for those last few weeks before Winter Break. He also couldn’t hold back his blush when Aunt May questioned him about whether he’d met anyone special. It was true that he had, but it wasn’t like that between him and Tony, no matter how much Peter liked to fantasise about it. He and Tony were friends and, yes, the older boy liked to flirt with him, but that was who Tony was, he told himself. It didn’t mean anything, even if Tony didn't discriminate about who he liked . So Peter had lied and said he hadn’t, and if May didn’t believe him - which from the pointed look she gave him she most certainly didn’t - she was good enough not to raise the subject again.

Returning to campus on the other side of the long weekend, Peter made his way straight over to see Tony.

“Hey kid, good to see ya. Have a fun time with la familia?” Tony opened the door with a broad smile and gestured for Peter to make himself at home on the ratty couch.

Peter grinned at Tony’s jovial tone and threw himself down on the saggy brown cushions.

“Yeah. It was okay. Nice to catch up with my aunt and my friends, but I’m back and ready to work hard all the way up to Winter Break.”

Tony sat down next to him, clutching a bottle of beer by its neck.

“Well as long as you don’t work so hard you’re too tired to come to my Christmas party.”

Peter’s eyes went wide. “You’re inviting me?” he squeaked. “But I’m just me and you’re you.”

“Yes,” said Tony, “but you’re my friend and I want you there. No if’s, no but’s - unless it’s that cute butt of yours.” He pointed down at Peter’s backside and chuckled at the flush that appeared on his neck and cheeks. “You make it far too easy, Petey. I might really start to think you’ve got a crush on me.”

Somehow, Peter managed to regain his composure and continued to chat to Tony about Thanksgiving and the plans for the upcoming party until he realised it was time he ought to head back to his dorm. As he excused himself, and made his way to the door, Tony pulled him into a big hug.

“Can’t wait to see you at the party, kid.” He held onto Peter for what felt like a few moments too long, although Peter wasn’t going to complain. It felt nice to be held in someone’s arms, especially when they belonged to Tony. He gave his friend a shy smile.

“Can’t wait to be there. I’ll see you in class later in the week.”

Three weeks later, Peter jogged up the steps to Tony’s home, glad that his friend was holding his party somewhere he was familiar with. They’d seen a bit of each other over the last few weeks, but Peter had been busy making sure he was up to date on all his coursework, so that he could have a relaxed Winter Break. It was frustrating that he hadn’t gotten to hang out with Tony as much as he’d wanted, but it hadn’t stopped him from dreaming - and maybe other stuff - about the other boy, though.

He was nervous, though, and took a moment to smooth down his black t-shirt that he’d casually paired with some skinny jeans and a leather jacket. This was going to be the first big party he’d attended since starting at MIT, and he didn’t know that many of Tony’s friends aside from Rhodey. Also, the chances were that some of the attendees would be folk that didn’t view Peter as ‘popular’ material, despite Tony’s apparent endorsement of him. That guess was proved correct almost as soon as Peter had made it through the door, almost bumping right into Justin Hammer, who, like Rhodey, was majoring in Military Science.

“Oh, god.” Justin sneered. “Why doesn’t it surprise me that you’re here. Parker. You’re like a bad smell we can’t get rid of.” He threw back his head and guffawed loudly, his cronies laughing along with him. With his cheeks burning, but not wanting to make a scene, Peter ducked his head and moved further into the apartment, searching for Tony. He found him, predictably, in the kitchen. Equally predictably he was wearing one of his band shirts - a black one proclaiming his love of the band Black Sabbath.

Tony’s response to Peter’s arrival was the complete opposite to Justin’s. “Petey!” he cried, flinging his arms in the air, before pulling Peter into a crushing hug and planting a kiss on Peter’s cheek, dangerously near the corner of his mouth. “You made it!”

Keeping one arm firmly around Peter’s shoulder, Tony steered him over to where Rhodey and some other close friends were standing. “Let me introduce you to the gang.” Tony’s friends smiled as Peter was introduced to them, before turning back to their own conversations. Most were Seniors, like Tony and Rhodey, but one or two were Juniors.

“And this,” said Tony, “is Maria, the harlot who’s stolen my Platypus from me.” He clasped his hand dramatically over his heart and Peter giggled. The tall, brunette woman standing next to Rhodey rolled her eyes and then punched Tony in the arm.

“Can it, Stark,” she bit back, jokingly. “You still get to see him on weekends and holidays.” She then turned to Peter and held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Parker. Thanks for keeping Tony occupied so Jim and I can have some time together without being interrupted.” Tony had the good grace to look a little embarrassed at her comment and Peter laughed again.

“No problem. For some reason I actually like him.”

Now it was Tony’s turn for the faux outrage. “Hey! I’m eminently lovable, I’ll have you all know.”

Rhodey clapped him on the shoulder. “We know, bud. We know. Now if you’ll excuse us, they’re playing our song.” He led Maria through the throngs of people towards the area that had been designated as the dance floor, all the while Tony looking on with his over the top pout.

Peter nudged him. “You’re happy for him really, aren’t you?”

“Oh definitely,” Tony agreed. “She’ll be good for him, and she also seems to be able to put up with me, so that’s good. Not that many people can.”

“I do,” Peter said vehemently. “And surely all the people here do as well.”

A small frown appeared on Tony’s face. “They put up with my money for the most part. I can probably count the number of true friends I have on less than two hands.” He looked at Peter, something in his expression morphing, and Peter found himself unable to look away. “I’m glad you’re one of them though, Peter.”

Tony lifted his hand, and for a moment it seemed to Peter as though his friend was going to brush his riotous curls away from his face, but then someone near them bumped against Tony and the moment was lost.

“Come on, kid. Let’s go mingle.”

Tony picked up a beer, and just gave Peter an understanding nod when he grabbed a soda for himself. Peter was glad that Tony wasn’t judging him or pressuring him to drink, given the fact that most of the other people at the party were, whether they were twenty-one or not.

They moved among the guests, Peter feeling like a sail boat being pulled along in the wake of a trawler. When Tony stopped to talk to someone, Peter hovered by his elbow, feeling a little awkward, but at the same time there was nowhere he’d rather be than basking in Tony’s radiance. He was like the sun, and Peter was the moon, absorbing what light he could, and reflecting back the rest to those around him. Peter wasn’t totally dependent on Tony, though. There were a few people there that he did know, and he took the opportunity to chat with them, and hopefully build up a bigger pool of friends. He was still at the beginning of his course. He’d be here for a few more years yet, and Tony, being a Senior, would finish at the end of this year and then who knows? It made Peter’s heart ache just to think about it.

It was inevitable that they’d get separated, but Peter wasn’t too worried. The apartment wasn’t that big and it wasn’t as though Tony was planning to leave his own home while the party was still in swing. It did mean, however, that there was more likelihood of Peter bumping into some he didn’t want to, like…

“Justin! I’m so sorry.” Peter rebounded off the other Senior’s arm with a loud exclamation and watched in horror as his soda sloshed out of the neck of the bottle and over the, no doubt, expensive fabric of Justin’s shirt.

“Parker! You dumb fuck!” Justin shouted back, slurring slightly, as he shook his arm to rid himself of some of the excess liquid. “I can’t even fathom why Stark lets someone like you hang on his coattails.” He peered at Peter, observing through the lens of his beer-goggles and Peter felt a shiver go down his spine as Justin’s expression turned into a leer. He took a step forward and Peter took an echoing one back. “Although,” he drawled, looking up and down Peter’s body, “I suppose that despite your stupidity you have other things going for you. Maybe you can make up for ruining my shirt? I’m sure Stark won’t mind sharing. You look like you could suck a dick well at least.” He stepped even closer, his cronies following at his back, caging Peter in. With how crowded it was, and the noise level, no-one would really be able to see him. Justin put his hand on Peter’s shoulder and pushed down, trying to get the younger boy down on his knees. “Come on - show me why Stark puts up with you.”

At the insinuation, Peter snapped.

With a shout he pushed up and back, shoving Justin away from him with all his strength and sent him staggering back into his friends. “Get off me!” he shouted, despite the fact his voice wouldn’t carry far. It was enough that a few people around them were starting to notice something was wrong. However, Justin’s pride, along with the amount of beer he’d drunk, made him decide to double down instead of quietly withdraw.

“You little shit. You should be thanking me for even paying you any notice.” He lunged forward, face red with anger and fisted his hand into Peter’s hair, making the younger man screw up his eyes and shout out in pain.

“Let. Go. Of. Him.” The menacing command came from behind Justin and he immediately complied, whirling around to look at the owner of the voice. Peter opened his eyes, overjoyed to see Tony there, but the feeling was muted by a deep embarrassment. Everyone was staring at them.

Tony walked right up into Justin’s space, but didn’t raise either his hands or his voice.

“Get out. You and your little crew. You’re not welcome here.”

Justin shook his head as if clearing it and stepped away from Tony with a small shrug.

“Whatever, man. The company isn’t as good as I thought it would be.” He started to walk towards the door, his friends a few steps ahead of him when he stopped and turned, unable to leave without having the last word. “Can’t believe you’re getting so bent out of shape over a rent-boy.”

Tony’s hands balled into fists and he stepped forward, a dangerous glint in his eye and Peter drew in a sharp breath, convinced that a fight was about to break out. However, Tony was stopped in his tracks as Maria clamped her hand down on his shoulder.

“It’s not worth it,” she hissed. “You know the Dean isn’t your biggest fan.” Tony seemed to be listening, because his shoulders slumped, the fight almost instantly draining from him.

“Pathetic,” Justin bit out. “I don’t know what everyone…”

His drunken tirade was cut off as Maria stepped forward and launched a perfect right jab at Justin’s nose, making his head snap back and causing red to bloom across his face. A couple of his friends caught him as he toppled toward the ground, but Maria was already walking back to Tony.

“I thought you said it wasn’t worth it?” Tony queried.

Maria shrugged as she shook out her hand. “The Dean likes me. And you really think Hammer is gonna complain that he got punched by a girl?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Peter saw Justin’s friends giving each other sideways glances before the decided discretion was the better part of valour and shuffled out of the door, holding up a dazed Justin between them. His attention was then caught by Rhodey, who appeared at Maria’s side, eyes sparkling. “Damn, baby! I have never been more attracted to you than I am right now.” Maria grinned back, cupped Rhodey’s face and started to make out with him.

Tony held up his hands. “Okay, okay. You two - get a room. Everyone else - back to partying now the trash has been removed. Petey-pie? You’re with me. I need to make sure you’re okay.”

Tony placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder to try and steer him, but he was feeling too keyed up - too embarrassed - so he shrugged it off. If Tony took umbrage at the gesture he didn’t show it, and instead just led the way to one of the only parts of the apartment Peter had never seen. Tony’s bedroom.

Peter was gnawing on his lower lip, too busy going over everything that Justin had said to really take in where he was, or that he was now sitting on Tony’s bed.

Is that what everyone thought, he wondered. That Tony only let Peter hang around because they were fucking? The thought was conflicting, because, yes, he would love to be fucking Tony, he couldn’t deny that, but he also knew that his worth as a person was not tied to who he was sleeping with - he and Tony had a real friendship and it pained him that others couldn’t just accept that.

Almost as though Tony could read his thoughts, or at least partly, Peter was brought back to the here and now when Tony crouched down in front of him and took hold of his hands. Tony peered up at him with sympathy filled eyes and his thumbs rubbed soothingly over the back of Peter’s knuckles. Or rather Peter assumed it was supposed to be soothing. However, it wasn’t having the intended effect because despite Tony’s affectionate nature he had never actually held Peter’s hands before. Which therefore meant that Peter was concentrating more on how it felt to really have Tony’s hands on him, than on calming down from his ordeal.

“Are you okay, kid? I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

However, still full of frustration and hopped up on adrenaline, Peter shook Tony’s hands off and stood up in agitation

“Don’t call me that, Tony,” he practically shouted. “I’m not a kid, I’m eighteen.”

Tony raised his hands in supplication. “Noted. No more ‘kid’.”

However Peter wasn’t really listening, and was working off his energy by pacing up and down in front of Tony.

“Do you know what Justin was saying? Did you hear him? He thinks that you’re only friends with me because I let you fuck me.”

“And that would be bad,” Tony asked, tentatively, although Peter didn’t pick up on his tone. “If people think we’re fucking?”

“That’s not the point, Tony. It’s not about sex, it’s about the assumption that the only benefit to you is ass on tap, and the benefit to me is second-hand popularity.”

“Why would anyone with half a brain think that? And who cares what other people think, as long as we know the truth? You’re fun and brilliant, and you put up with me prattling on all the time. Like I am now. I should shut up. But before I do, can I just check. Would it, you know, be so bad, if we were?”

Finally, Peter picked up something questioning - unsure - in Tony’s voice and stopped moving.

“If we were what?” he asked, head cocked to the side.

“Umm, fucking. Shit! I mean…” Tony blew out a breath and looked up at the ceiling for a moment before continuing. “I really like you, Peter. Like ‘like you’ like you. Have done since we first met, in fact. I found myself hoping you’d fall at my feet figuratively, not just literally.”

Peter blinked, trying to process what Tony was saying, even as his verbal stream of consciousness continued.

“And I’ve just decided to do a Masters, so I’m going to be around past the end of this year, so I wondered if you’d like to be more than my friend, not that I don’t value your friendship. Quite the opposite in fact. I’ve been trying to let you know how I feel, but because I can be quite unsubtle I was trying to dial it back, so maybe I went too far the other way. But I got the feeling that you like me as well, and was hoping you’d be my boyfriend. And there doesn’t actually have to be sex. I don’t wanna presume that that’s something you want or are ready for… and fuck, I’m still rambling.”

Peter snapped back to reality and stepped forward, taking Tony’s hands in his, this time.

“Tony,” he interjected, a sudden boost of confidence taking him over.

“What?” Tony’s eyes were wide, like he was caught in the headlights of a semi.

“Shut up and kiss me.” Peter leaned in closer and pressed his lips to Tony’s.

For a moment Tony didn’t react, but then suddenly he was kissing Peter back and Peter was mentally punching the air in celebration. He’d been worrying so much that his crush on Tony would be unwanted, that somehow he’d failed to pick up on Tony’s signals. They’d probably talk and laugh about that later, but for now, Peter had singular focus.

He let go of Tony’s hands, so he could wrap his arms around Tony’s waist and pull him closer. At the same time he opened his mouth and teased the seam of Tony’s lips with his tongue. Tony’s hands came up to tangle in Peter’s hair as he accepted Peter’s deeping of their kiss.

It was only as his legs hit the edge of Tony’s bed that Peter realised they’d been moving, and had no idea which one of them had instigated it, but he smiled and chuckled into Tony’s mouth as they tumbled down onto it. Two pairs of lips and two pairs of hands roamed everywhere they could easily get, Tony pushing Peter’s jacket from his shoulders, and after a minute Peter broke away to pull his t-shirt over his head.

“God, Petey,” Tony exclaimed. “You’re so beautiful.” Then he pulled his own shirt off and surged back to capture Peter’s lips again.

Through all the kisses and the touching, both of them managed to shed their jeans, until only two thin layers of cotton separated them. Tony scraped his teeth over one of Peter’s pectorals, including his small, dark nipple, and Peter arched up with a gasp. Tony moved lower, kissing and nipping, until his face was nuzzling into the soft fabric between Peter’s hip and rigid cock.

“Can I, baby? I wanna make you feel good.”

Just the thought made Peter feel overwhelmed and he fisted the sheets as he whined.

“Y-Yeah. Oh, god.”

Tony pulled down Peter’s tight boxer-briefs and let out a sigh at the sight that greeted him. “I knew your cock would be just as pretty,” he said as he gently stroked over the soft skin with his index finger. Peter shuddered under the touch, so turned on that he was worried he was going to embarrass himself.

“I’m gonna kiss you now, and you just do what feels good, okay?” Tony soothed, and Peter just bit his lower lip and nodded.

The first touch of Tony’s lips on the shaft of his cock, mouthing up the vein that ran from root to tip, had Peter groaning wantonly. He wasn’t totally inexperienced, but there was no mistaking the fact that Tony had more skill than any of - admittedly few - previous lovers. When Tony flicked his tongue over Peter’s slit, lapping up the pre-cum that had gathered there, Peter thought he was going to fly into orbit and gripped the sheets with such ferocity he was convinced he was going to rip them. Tony carefully explored the head of Peter’s cock with his tongue, circling around the spongy tip and the underside of his ridge, tracing over his circumcision scar, and Peter? Peter whimpered.

“Shh, shh, baby. It’s okay. Just relax.” Tony’s words were whispered against the length of him, breath hot on his skin.

And then Tony finally took him into the warm cavern of his mouth. He must have been expecting it, because he didn’t make a move when Peter’s hips bucked at the sensation, his cock pushing deeper into Tony’s mouth. He let Peter get over his initial reaction before placing his hands carefully on Peter’s slim hips and starting to bob up and down. Peter could feel the way the flat of Tony’s tongue pressed against the underside of him and when he glanced down to actually look at what was going on he had to really fight the urge to just come, because Tony had swallowed all of him, that perfect, straight nose pressed right into the thatch of dark curls at the base of Peter’s cock.

“Fuck! Tony! Feels - feels amazing. Shit!”

Tony popped off and smirked up at him. “Such a potty mouth,” he quipped before taking Peter back in with a hum.

Peter suddenly found his left hand tangled in Tony’s hair, not really holding him in place, but more he just feeling him. It was getting harder and harder to hold back from coming, and while it would be bliss to spill himself into Tony’s mouth he didn’t want that for their first time together.

“Tony,” he whined and gave Tony’s hair a gentle tug, trying to communicate what he wanted with actions, given his brain didn’t want to let his mouth really work. Luckily for him Tony seemed to get the message and with obvious reluctance let Peter’s cock, wet and flushed pink, fall from his mouth as he slid his way up Peter’s body.

“What is it, Petey? What do you want?” Peter was sure he’d have had a better time answering if Tony hadn’t been nuzzling kissing his neck, but somehow he managed.

“Wanna feel you. Wanna feel us. Against each other.”

Tony lifted his head and smiled softly. “I got you, sweetcheeks. You just reach into that top drawer and get the lube and I’ll deal with these pesky underpants.”

Peter twisted at the waist, reaching up and to the side to pull open the drawer of the small wooden table and moved his hand around inside it until his fingers closed around a familiar feeling bottle. As he did that, he felt Tony pull his boxer-briefs, that had been tangled half way down around his knees, fully off. He turned his head back just in time to see Tony discard his own, and kneel by his side.

He was gay. Absolutely. Wow! He didn’t even realise he was reaching out until Tony chuckled.

“You wanna touch? Go ahead, baby. I’m all yours.”

Peter curled his fingers around Tony’s cock, immediately obsessed with the weight and feel of it in his hand. The way Tony’s eyes closed and his body shuddered as Peter lazily jerked him gave him a heady rush of power. On another occasion he’d love to just do this - touch Tony oh-so-softly - and see how long Tony would be able to hold out. However, his patience wouldn’t run to that now, so he urged Tony down to lie beside him. Peter squirted a healthy dollop of lube into his palm and slicked himself up, before doing the same to Tony. Then, lining his hips up to Tony’s, Peter wrapped his hand around the pair of them, pressing their cocks together.

For a moment, Peter couldn’t keep his eyes open, needing to block out one sense in order to deal with the overwhelming feeling of another, but when he did raise his eyelids again it was to find Tony looking back at him, brown eyes made even darker by lust. Tony leaned forward to capture Peter’s mouth for another ferocious kiss and then placed his own hand over Peter’s, helping him to jerk them both off.

The sounds of their sighs and moans, alongside the schlick-schlick of their cocks moving together, filled the room and Peter found himself rolling his hips, pressing up further and harder against Tony. He imagined what it would be like to do more with Tony, how they could discover those little things that made the other stutter and lose control. He wanted to know the taste and feel of Tony’s cock on his tongue. Maybe even the feel of it inside him, or even the other way around, if that was something Tony wanted. The possibilities seemed endless, and this was just the beginning.

However, having been on the edge longer than Tony, it was inevitable that Peter would come first. Sensing that his younger lover was close, Tony stopped moving their hands and just let Peter rut up against his cock within the circle of their joined fingers. Peter spilled his cries into Tony’s mouth at the same time he spilled his cum over the pair of them. It just felt so fucking good, and his hips kept moving until the sensations in his cock morphed into the sting of over-stimulation.

Moving Tony’s hand away, Peter let his softening cock fall away, and then tightened his own solo grip over Tony’s still hard cock, going back to jerking it, his own cum adding to the wet mess easing his way.

“Fuck! That’s it, baby. Just like that.” Peter watched with hooded eyes as Tony rambled and twitched within his grasp, head thrown back. “Gonna come, Petey. Gonna come. Feels so good. Yes! Yes!”

A feeling of immense satisfaction washed through Peter as Tony reached his peak and pulsed into his hand, and for the next few moments the pair of them lay next to each other, panting and coming down from their highs.

Peter opened eyes, feeling Tony’s gaze on him, and found him grinning. Then Tony was kissing him playfully and they both started to giggle. Peter twined his clean hand with Tony’s as they smiled and kissed, his heart feeling so light, he hoped he’d never lose this feeling.

“Please tell me you can stay tonight,” Tony asked, and despite his usual brashness, Peter could hear the note of insecurity in his voice. He let go of Tony’s hand so could brush a lock of dark brown hair from Tony’s forehead.

“I can stay. Don’t wanna be anywhere else. But I might have to leave early. I’ve still got some last things I need to do before I go home, and I have a feeling that you might prove a distraction.”

“Why would you think that,” Tony joked as he leant forward and took Peter’s lower lip between his teeth, pulling on it gently. “I can’t fault you for your dedication.” Tony eased away and got off the bed, walking across to his en-suite, confident in his nakedness, before looking coyly over his shoulder. “Coming for a shower?”

Peter had never moved so fast in his life.

When Peter blinked open his eyes the next morning, he was surprised to find it was well after 9am. Luckily, with it being Saturday he didn’t have any classes, but he hadn’t been lying to Tony about having some things he needed to sort out before the start of Winter Break. And the sooner he started them, the sooner they’d be finished and he could dedicate his remaining time to Tony before they had a two week period where they wouldn’t see each other.

He eased himself out from under the deadweight of Tony’s arm and climbed out of the bed. He tried to be as quiet as possible as he used the bathroom and when he came back out he was happy to see that Tony was still deeply asleep. After allowing himself a moment to observe Tony relaxed - and quiet - in sleep, Peter dressed as quickly as he could given he had to dig around Tony’s floor for his clothes. He had no idea when the party had actually wound down last night - he and Tony never had resurfaced, so he assumed Rhodey and Maria had taken over the hosting duties.

Peter dropped a gentle kiss to Tony’s temple, his heart flipping in his chest at the sleepy nose scrunch that crossed Tony’s face at the sensation, and then crept from the room and then out of the apartment which still showed all the evidence of the previous night’s party activities.

It was almost ten am by then, so as Peter crossed campus he could see a few other folk out and about, although most of them looked hung-over, or at least sleep deprived like him. However, after passing by the first few people, he realised that he was receiving a lot of stares. Worried that he was sporting a giant hickey, he stopped in front of one of the glass fronted buildings, intending to inspect his neck in the muted reflection, but when he saw himself he gasped, before starting to laugh out loud. A cowled skull stared back at him. It seemed that in his haste to get dressed he’d picked up Tony’s Black Sabbath shirt and not his own, plain black one.

If people had thought he and Tony were fucking before, there would be no doubt that anyone who knew the pair of them and saw this, would think anything else. The Peter of yesterday would have been appalled, but the Peter of today? Well he had taken Tony’s words of last night to heart - how much did the opinions of others really matter when it was no-one’s business but theirs?

With a smile on his face Peter squared his shoulders and walked back to his dorm, plotting about how he could steal another of Tony’s shirts.

Tag list: @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @doasyoudesireandlive, @marvelstarker-mha98

#starker #tony stark x peter parker #college au #late writes

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synesindri · 1 year ago

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lucifer gender symbolism essay part 5: white women

masterpost

[cw for discussions of white supremacy and racial violence]

at some level the fact that the women lucifer appears as are white is just a part spn being a very white show, but i think it’s also symbolically relevant. lucifer appears to her (white, male) vessels as idealized versions of their murdered (white, female) lovers, in a vulnerable state (in bed, in nightgowns, barefoot, soft-voiced) to play on nick’s and sam’s sympathies by presenting herself as a victim.

this is such a longstanding and insidious cultural Thing, and it is an overwhelmingly feminine role. the delicate, beautiful white woman who must be protected, who is demure but sensually available to the man devoted to her, whispering in his ear behind closed doors to get him to wield the forms of traditionally masculine power he possesses on her behalf outside of the comfortable bedroom where she presides. she’s lady macbeth; she’s countless queens, empresses, mistresses, lovers, and girls next door who have been written about in fiction, history, and the news for millennia. she is, in some ways, every white woman who has ever cried to her white boyfriend about someone who isn’t white “threatening” her, who has used her white femininity to indirectly do violence to others by getting the white men in her life to “defend” her.

it’s not a perfect analogy; lucifer isn’t asking nick and sam to do the apocalypse for her; lucifer is always the one expected to be doing the violence. but that just makes this symbolism all the starker, i think: in scenarios where white women use their fragility to get others to enact violence at their request, it is those white women doing the violence too, not just whoever’s hands/weapons/political power they’re using to make it a physical reality. lady macbeth didn’t kill the king, but she still couldn’t wash the stain of blood from her hands. lucifer might be using the faces of sarah and jess to suggest total human genocide; lucifer might be using nick’s and sam’s bodies to kill, but it’s always lucifer’s violence, no matter who else she implicates in it.

part 4: women in white part 6: mothers vs fathers masterpost

#spn #lucifer #spn thots #meta

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therappundit · 1 year ago

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"For you, I recommend...” - The Rap Pundit’s Picks From the First Half of 2023

****PART 1 of 2****

*If you are interested in tracking my favorite songs released in 2023, I will be updating this 2023 Tidal Playlist all year long*...and yikes it’s already ridiculously long.

https://tidal.com/playlist/2a4cccc0-19db-4ef2-8ad9-d29e866ef672

Been a while, how’s everybody doin’? Me, I’m just doing the same ol’ husband/father/jaded American worker thing, exhausted but well aware of how fortunate I am. As with any art, the irony is that inspiration is too often tied to depression, frustration, and a need for change. I regarded the past few years of rap music as some of the strongest in recent memory, which is not a coincidence, considering how increasingly unhinged our world appears to be.

From the standpoint of major releases, strong underground releases, and a growing range of different sounds and aesthetics, I would argue that 2022 could go up against any of the greatest years in the history of rap music. The nostalgia factor will always hold court over recency bias whenever folks who claim to be in the know get into such conversations, but I think 2022 had something for everyone - and those somethings were at the highest level that each respective lane has to offer. Now here at the midpoint of 2023, we have a year that is extremely shallow when it comes to noteworthy releases trickling down from household names that loom large over mainstream rap music, but instead there are a seemingly unlimited amount of under the radar gems washing up on our streaming shores on a weekly basis. In 2023, if you want to hear the best rap album of the week, there’s a good chance that it won’t receive a shout-out from On Thin Ice’s New Music Friday post (but a HUGE s/o to CROWNTHEM and RapSurvivalGuide for digging deep every week, and not just catering to your own personal biases or whoever kisses your ass for a slice of that sweet, sweet Twitter Share pie...but I digress). ;-)

For the past decade my musical tastes have shifted, grown, and sharpened, and while getting older has certainly played a factor, my own interests in rap music have expanded due in no small part to the names I mentioned above, as well as many others. Thank you all for doing what you do every week, it takes discipline, a good ear, but above all else, a real passion for the music and artists that share their gifts with the world. Staring down at the back half of the year (July already!?), I hope to continue to share the same love for the art form, and put at least a few folks on to dope songs or albums that they otherwise may have missed.

So for my “Best of 2023 so far”, I tried to do the following: pick *some of* my favorite songs of the year, NOT IN ANY PARTICULAR ORDER WHATSOEVER, choosing one song from each artist (not including features or producers, both could have multiple showcases within the list below), and trying to touch on all of the different styles of rap music that I love.

Hope you enjoy, let me know your thoughts, and see you when I drop Part 2 (which I’m aiming to do within the next two weeks).....

🙏

“Fair Oaks Drive” - Ace P feat. Righteous Emcee, Juice Lord & Knucky

https://dontaskwhy.bandcamp.com/track/the-proof-prod-roper-williams

“Veracruz” - Che Noir feat. 7xvethegenius

https://bigghostlimited.bandcamp.com/track/veracruz-ft-7xvethegenius

“OPEN LETTER” - dp0mmy feat. K9shmere

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L7vaRgkzbBw

“Swing!” - KING VISION ULTRA feat. Nakama

https://algierstheband.bandcamp.com/track/swing-with-nakama

“Red Jacket 6″ - MIKE

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G1AZB7ZxNf8

“Auntie Crystal” - Jae Skeese

https://jaeskeeseofficial.bandcamp.com/track/auntie-crystal-explicit

“STARS” - Papo2oo4 feat. YL, Starker & DVNTBEATS

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e4lBqeubo4M

“Hitman Synopsis” - Freddolo & Charlie Mayo feat. Blu

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PLBR-TE8BjI

“Gerald’s Flattop” - SickInTheHead

https://soundcloud.com/sith92/geralds-flattop?in=sith92/sets/smokin-boots

“Pressure” - Wulf Morpheus feat. Silky Southern & BACKSEAT [S]MILES

https://soundcloud.com/wulfmorpheus/pressure-feat-silky-southern-backseat-smiles?in=wulfmorpheus/sets/epp

“Imported Goods” - Kadeem feat. Caliph, Avenue, & Latrell James

https://itskadeem.bandcamp.com/track/imported-goods-feat-caliph-avenue-latrell-james-prod-by-god-damn-chan

“Woke Up” - Jay NiCE feat. Big Cheeko, T.F & Jansport J

https://nicesupreme888.bandcamp.com/track/woke-up-feat-big-cheeko-t-f-prod-by-jansport-j

“SOUTHSIDE STORY” - Hoodlum

https://tidal.com/track/286322005

“Already” - EastsideEggroll

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3GL8Qk1h9Ws&list=OLAK5uy_n7zKo_AAp5vLgvFZH5BowfcuRs7VZSVvc&index=4

“Top Of The Morning” - Talibando feat. Samuel Shabazz

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=67Nrh4kOcBw

“Pistachio” - MVW, Valee & Zelooperz

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d7YpBd09TGc

“Really Him” - Mike Shabb

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ptUo-N6cWgE

“Look Closer” - The Legendary Traxster feat. Buk Of Psychodrama

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GyhTwWglaIk&list=OLAK5uy_k61kabHMaTugmcIsGP0BAWmja7XF6sD5M&index=16

“Family Tithes” - Gnarly Marley feat. Martyy Jugg, Esoderic & The Abnorm

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sXGi9QDPP94&list=OLAK5uy_lOKtMuI2x9AnUeGKsx7FxtbxVWK5lgOXk&index=6

“STOOP” - Akhen feat. Roscoe P Coldchain & Lord Maskoff

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ivVEnzMBOuA

“Boat Interlude” - Veeze feat. Lil Yachty

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=69jRaPHx0vk

“Club Spook” - Popstar Benny feat. $pook

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VRgCcHoioug

“Stand On It” - DaBoii feat. Philthy Rich, 4 rAx & Mac J

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wBmejHaDpVo

“Top G” - King Hendrick$

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZzSHrpp3n68

“Okra” - Young Nudy

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v4YxcS_SNRA

“Bipperz Anthem” - KP SKYWALKA & Lil Dude

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Iftj9Sud6nk

“'86 TESTAROSSA“ - Curren$y & Harry Fraud feat. Rome Streetz

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PBUpBbucBMY

“Starting Lineup” - Murs & Wiardon feat. Larry June & ICECOLDBISHOP

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ienLlyytWK8

“Chit Chat” - French Montana & DJ Drama feat. A$AP Rocky & Smooky MarGielaa

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KaR_ZRLcLqI

“Basket” - DaeMoney feat. Babyface Ray

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MvNkAPFwS2o

“Woedy” - Rob49 feat. Birdman

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zihkny_M42Q

“PILL FORM” - 2 Eleven & T.F feat. Rome Streetz

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TkX7cS7jZeM

“Hollow Way” - El Michels Affair & Black Thought

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RYqcfCtRARM

“I USUALLY SAY HOW I FEEL” - Tree

https://mctreeg.bandcamp.com/track/i-usually-say-how-i-feel

“Boom (Mouskatool)” - Mello Buckzz feat. Amari Blaze, Moni Da G & Kashh Mirr

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6AMwuCjoNeA

“Fuck Mr T” - RRB Lil Mel & RRB Cheese feat. feat. RRB Duck & SME TaxFree

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E1kI8DBl5No

“Ron Artest” - Babyface Ray & 42 Dugg

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LqP7EwfbroE

“Slipping Into Darkness” - Hit-Boy & The Alchemist

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IqeK6BIS_pQ

“Three Kings” - Wiki feat. Big Ouee & Papo2oo4

https://wiksetnyc.bandcamp.com/track/three-kings-ft-big-ouee-papo2oo4-prod-juju-merk

“Ghetto To Meadow” - Oddisee feat. Freeway

https://oddisee.bandcamp.com/track/ghetto-to-meadow-feat-freeway

“Eastside” - Jay Rock feat. Kal Banx

https://tidal.com/track/300682190

“Gurd” - Drego fest. Beno

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C2EuvC5NjaM

“F**K Yo’ Set” - DJ Rude One & RXK Nephew

https://djrudeone.bandcamp.com/track/f-k-yo-set

“Brucifix” - Conway The Machine feat. Westside Gunn

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=slqKjNdjseU

“Foie Gras” - Your Old Droog

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Udq9HXLmnKs

“Robbers Cave” - Sleep Sinatra feat BloodMoney Perez, Sekwence & KlwnKat

https://sleepsinatra1.bandcamp.com/track/robbers-cave-feat-bloodmoney-perez-x-sekwence-prod-by-klwnkat

“The Proof” - YL

https://dontaskwhy.bandcamp.com/track/the-proof-prod-roper-williams

“k.o!” - Raz Fresco feat. Daniel Son

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tuxx33m_AdI

“PBS Kids” - AJ Suede & Televangel feat. Mr. Muthafuckin Exquire

https://fakefour.bandcamp.com/track/pbs-kids-feat-mr-muthafuckin-exquire

“Class” - Spectacular Diagnostics feat. Curly Castro, Illogic & Defcee

https://spectacular-diagnostics.bandcamp.com/track/class-ft-curly-castro-illogic-defcee

“hue_man nature” - Saba & No ID

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o01_JnGtj8A

“Smug” - Nappy Nina feat. maassai

https://nappynina.bandcamp.com/track/smug-feat-maassai

“She Could” - phiik & Lungs/LoneSword

https://phiik.bandcamp.com/track/she-could

“It Don’t Stop” - J. Rawls feat. Wordsworth & MC Bravado

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5QOK22JQlVg

“Blunt Guts and Laundry Rooms“ - Tokyo Cigar

https://tokyocigarmusic.bandcamp.com/track/blunt-guts-and-laundry-rooms

“S.H.O.W. ENT” - Sideshow

https://ghettosoundz.bandcamp.com/track/s-h-o-w-ent

“Zoo” - Mr Brady & Budamunk

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DuVFDHSdZFg

“BlitzBerg” - Niontay

https://sexafterchurch.bandcamp.com/track/blitzberg-2

“Venison” - Chuck Strangers feat. Navy Blue

https://chuckstrangers.bandcamp.com/track/venison-feat-navy-blue

“The Plug” - Jay Worthy & Roc Marciano feat. Kokane & Ab-Soul

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uF-pNfKHiKM

“Chicago Piffers” - Jamal Gasol & Vic Spencer

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0CHXucmHMuE

“Sunflowers and Gunpowder” - Stik Figa

https://stikfiga785.bandcamp.com/track/sunflowers-and-gunpowder

“Cocaine On My Sweatshirt” - Stove God Cook$ feat. Earl Sweatshirt

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ABBh1fS_M4Y

“Michael Myers” - AyooLii & Run Along Forever

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lFqaDKNVkB4

“Oh Dear” - Jadasea & Laron feat. Wiki

https://jadase15.bandcamp.com/track/oh-dear-ft-wiki

“HALLELUJAH” - Pote Baby

https://soundcloud.com/potebaby/hallelujah-1

“bread & butter” - Gunna

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mpaKdWGnUF4

“Jellyfish” - Roadrunner Glockboyz Tez

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KWdIgSoyRrQ

“Hts” - Myaap

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y8GxPW2_piY

(s/o to @JunkiesRPeople for putting me on to this one, Milwaukee has some crazy fun records)

“Gettin Fishy” - Luh Tyler feat. Scy Jimm & Wizz Havinn

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A3cdOha_8i4

“Let’s Do It” - DD Osama feat. NLE Choppa

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7aV_GtP3hH8

“Adventure Time” - A$AP Twelvyy feat. Roc Marciano

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vCZAAJKtgjk

“Baby Steps” - billy woods & Kenny Segal feat. ELUCID & Benjamin Booker

https://billywoods.bandcamp.com/track/baby-steps-featuring-elucid-benjamin-booker

“LALO” - Conway the Machine & Benny the Butcher feat. 38 Spesh

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8DxN5IqE7Q0

“Nat Turner” - Talib Kweli x Madlib feat. Seun Kuti & Cassper Nyovest

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=caim8oPc4r8

(Yeah. I get it. You don’t like Talib Kweli. But if you get a chance to check out Liberation 2, do so, because it’s dope.)

“Kill Switch” - Navy Blue feat. J Rocc

https://soundcloud.com/navybluethewaterbearer/kill-switch

“The Hillbillies” - Baby Keem & Kendrick Lamar

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yhivl6fln3s

“Duckin Smoke” - Mac Ty & GloRilla

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hhiBY3ViqOM

“Kia Boyz” - Trdee feat. Certified Trapper & Mariboy Mula Mar

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nw-mgOxrJK4

“Michelin Star” - WateRR & Lupara feat. MIGHTYHEALTHY

https://waterr.bandcamp.com/track/michelin-star-feat-mightyhealthy

“4DEVILHEADZ” - Estee Nack

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KJzMNDzzwWY

“Transactions” - Gabe ‘Nandez

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HTd7JNH8VfE

“On The Floor (Remix)” - Latto feat. Cardi B

https://tidal.com/track/297661618

“RIP Hutch” - Babytron feat. Rico Nasty & Remble

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PSb6guRt10E

“Top Dog / Under Dog” - YUNGMORPHEUS

https://yungmorpheus.bandcamp.com/track/top-dog-under-dog-prod-fitz-ambro-e

“Terpalation” - Zombie Juice feat. Curren$y

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oC2dF2canl0

“Tell Em That” - Dre Wave$ feat. Marco Plus

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8vyuTs_UsZg

“BFFR” - Kenzo B

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qpdfKEqTqZE

“Corsairs” - Knowledge The Pirate feat. Roc Marciano

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5GlmtXE8PjA

“Each Smack” - Certified Trapper

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dgn5FiUlXdQ

“Get A Ticket” - Chase Fetti feat. Benny The Butcher

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E_ZqCby_ie4

“East Side Summer” - SKECH185 & Jeff Markey feat. I.B. Fokuz, Collasoul Structure & Solar Five

feat. https://skech185.bandcamp.com/track/east-side-summer-feat-i-b-fokuz-collasoul-structure-and-solar-five

“Raps Don’t Move Me” - greenSLIME & Boathouse

https://closedsessions.bandcamp.com/track/raps-dont-move-me

“Lift Me Up” - Marco Plus feat. Chris Patrick

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hf7_XCjuDqk

“Biddy Mason” - 7xvethegenius

https://soundcloud.com/lovethegenius/biddy-mason-1

#Best of 2023 #Q1 2023 #Best Albums of 2023 #Bandcamp #underground hip-hop

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artofstarker · 4 years ago

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saw this and now i’m imaginging King Anthony and King Peter, royalty from two neighboring kingdoms looking to make an alliance.

King Peter, though younger than most kings, was recently crowned after his father died unexpectedly. his first enactment as king is to formally begin an alliance with the kingdom to the South, as they’ve been making extreme technological advances as of late.

King Anthony agrees to enter the alliance, with one condition: they must prove their new friendship using the old law, a full night together sharing a bed.

King Peter readily agrees, pleased to enter an allyship with such a powerful kingdom.

when King Peter’s carriage arrives at Stark Tower, the beautiful castle home to the king, and he finally catches his first glimpse of the older royal, he realizes sharing a bed with the other king might be more of a problem then he thought. the man is beautiful and fierce, his entire aura dripping with power and intelligence. he knows that while one day he must marry a girl of high status and produce heirs to his throne, he has always found himself much more attracted to distinguished older gentlemen.

luckily for him, King Anthony has similar feelings, just with slightly different tastes. he has already married, and his queen has produced a princess, but he still is very interested in strong, pretty looking young men.

it does not take them long to figure out that their tastes are compatible. King Peter, still young, is not as subtle as he believes he is. King Anthony catches him staring at his lips, his cheeks glowing a soft red in the candlelight when he realizes he’s been caught.

the young royal’s blush only darkens when the other king pulls him closer on the bed, pressing first their bodies together, then their lips.

#and then...... they fuck :)#starker #my writing #starker prompt #starker drabble #tony stark #peter parker #peter parker x tony stark #tony stark x peter parker #iron spider #someone else write this #or finish it #or just use the little prompt #this is blanket consent to whoever sees!! no need to ask just write whatever u want if u want to :)

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lanyakea-universe · 3 years ago

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Starker - Young Master Tony and Mistreated Servant Peter

(English isn't my mother tongue)

Howard bought a personal servant for his only heir.

A wonderful occasion that he only bargained for a mere handful of gold coins.

The boy was a clumsy, scrawny bastard, three years younger than his son. He had no father, he had no mother, and his guardians were only too happy to get rid of a mouth to feed when Master Stark knocked at their cabin.

He had been offered other chained servants free of charge as a token of appreciation for his mere presence near the horrid dump they called home, but really, Howard hated the prospect of rats swarming into his home and besmirching his possessions with their nasty paws. The young Peter was more than enough. And so, he retired with the miserable brat.

Howard took only a minute of his time to introduce the servant to his son - there wasn't much of a story about him that would require more time.

Peter, the brat, was only ten years old when he first attempted to smile at the young master.

Peter, the brat, was only ten years old when the young master broke his nose with his knuckles.

This was the way his greeting went.

Tears and blood.

The only remark that young master Anthony Stark received was the following: "Son. Don't get your hands dirty with your things. Don't ever do it. Use whatever you can, instead. Your cane, your leather belt, the rifle grip of your firearm. You can even order our brave hounds to chew on his meager ankle flesh. But don't tarnish your Stark hands."

Thus, Peter washed the blood from his face, and Anthony washed the blood from his hands.

The missions assigned to the servant were numerous. Too numerous for his juvenile shoulders, but the choice was not a luxury that belonged to him. This way, Peter found himself in charge of the entire mansion and whoever entered the premises.

Laundry, meals, dusting, reception, gardens, mails delivery... and more. Much, much more. There was always more. No breaks, never. Never for him.

The slightest mistake would easily lead him to count the purple dark marks on his hairless legs at night when Peter could fantasize about death in his room - Master Howard was merciful enough to grant him a personal space. The rat couldn't wander free under his roof when the moon was high amidst the clouds, it was a really a disgusting thought.

Peter's purpose in life was his daily service to the Starks. It was the well-being of his owners, his respectable masters to whom he owed absolutely everything. Oh, those were words so deeply engraved in his soul. His mission. His only duty.

But, more than anything else, the young boy had to devote himself to the young master.

While Howard was an adult surrounded by ladies and personal assistants, Anthony had no such privilege. The heir was most of the time a lonely teenager when his professors were not at home teaching him lessons carefully assigned by his father. He had no friends, and he had no hobbies of his own (Peter would argue otherwise, Anthony definitely had an interest in inflicting horrors-...)

Somehow Peter was just the toy that Anthony was free to play with and do with as he pleased.

A young master and his servant. That was their story.

They went through adolescence together, one in wealth and abundance, the other in misery and suffering.

Years in which Anthony was raised to follow in his father's noble footsteps while Peter remained silent and pretty.

It was not uncommon for the young master to use his servant to relieve his anxiety. At one point, he would not even use an excuse to rain down a storm of blows on Peter's body. He would do it because Peter existed, and his screams were beautiful. He would do it because Peter was his to play with. His.

Beating Peter was probably the Starks' heir's favorite activity. And since he was always so devilishly seduced by the idea of using his hands, he acquired a pair of leather gloves just for these occasions - there was nothing like the mark of his fingers on that marble skin.

Marks on his skin, more marks on his skin - it was driving Tony crazy.

He wanted more, naturally. He wanted to have a taste of the forbidden fruit.

The first bite.

Masters usually never ventured into the servant's room, people like them had no business in a rat hole as inviting as a public latrine. However, one night Anthony broke this tacit rule. He entered, uninvited. And he closed the door behind him.

Peter, the brat, was only thirteen when it happened.

More blood.

Tony pressed a kiss to his forehead while he was still hovering over his servant, his mind foggy and his muscles shaking. "It wasn't that bad, huh? Don't tell my dad. He would..."

The young master swallowed, fear in his eyes.

"He wouldn't understand."

Peter never reported the incident. He never did. Just as he could never again find peace in his room now that this resting place had been defiled - the illusion of security had been burned to the ground.

Silence was imposed on him anyway. No choice, no voice.

Anthony Stark, a flower in bloom, was discovering his growing body along with his desires, and imposed them all to the one who could not emit any opposition.

Then, true to the carnal reputation of the Starks, the young master became a ladies' man. He used his legendary charm to make his name heard until it hung on the lips of every damsel in the region, he made them come to his mansion, to his room. Peter would clean the sheets, lady after lady. He would keep his eyes closed when ladies became men, never questioning it, never evoking it.

The years became past and they both turned into young men living under the same roof.

Peter, always caring for his masters, as docile as ever, and Tony, always cruel, as creative as ever when it came to seeing his servant cry.

On Anthony Stark's eighteenth birthday, Howard introduced him to Christine Everhart, a beautiful young lady from a wealthy neighboring family whose father owned a diamond mine in India. The heir was instantly bewitched by the beautiful blonde locks, but Howard deemed it unnecessary to point out that the marriage had already been negotiated long before his son had the chance to discover her name.

Everyone complied with the head of the family's wishes anyway. Peter first.

With the arrival of Miss Christine came the arrival of her personal waitress, Michelle Jones. The change was sudden, but the Starks' servant did as he always did: he got used to it and did his best to stay in the good graces of his three masters, even if his duties were now lightened by MJ's strangely friendly presence (it was harder to adapt to it, the idea was absurd).

Miss Everhart felt no need to wear a glove to discipline him, although she preferred to use hunger and humiliation to touch him more deeply.

Most of the time, Howard was amazed by her mischievous mind. He watched her with a half-filled glass in hand and would sometimes offer his personal cane if she was ever in the mood to employ violence.

Anthony would remain silent when that occurred. He would watch.

Peter, the brat, was fifteen years old when he kissed someone he liked for the first time.

Michelle made him feel safe, which was a perfectly unknown and dangerous feeling. However, he didn't push it away. As long as they hid their relationship, everything would be fine.

After Anthony Stark and Christine Everhart's wedding, the days when the young master had to leave for work increased and eventually became the norm. When Tony would return home, there was always - always - a moment where he'd join Peter in his tiny room. Bad habits never die.

Peter, the brat, was only seventeen years old when his master hit him so hard he thought he would die.

Two days later, when he finally woke up, Anthony brought him breakfast in bed. No apology, no smile, but a breakfast placed in his lap.

The eggs were burnt, but Tony had made the omelet himself.

It was disgusting. Peter ate the whole thing.

And as soon as the servant was back on his feet, he fled with Michelle, knowing that it was only a matter of time before the blows would eventually end him. He fled the mansion, without any bags, in the darkness of the night, and something strange happened.

He hadn't expected to find his wanted notice on every signpost, on every wall, on every window in the city. Anthony Edward Stark was offering a million coins of gold for his capture.

Tony wanted him back.

#starker #marvel #tony stark/peter parker #tony stark x peter parker #tony x peter #peter parker #tony stark #moodboard #lanyakea #alternate universe #slave and master #dark tony stark #slow brun #prompt #slight angst

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obligatorynasty · 2 years ago

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Homework. [Read on AO3]

A/N: This is the kind of fic you have to apologize for in advance. I am so sorry. It’s just smut, babes. There’s nothing else but smut here.

*~*~*~*

Tags: Starker, Pevengers, NFF, Smut, Daddy Kink, Free Use Kink, Bukkake, Praise Kink, Dom/Sub, Dirty Talk, Degradation, Crying, Overstimulation, Sex Toys

*~*~*~*

All Peter was supposed to do was his homework.

He and Tony had discussed it at length; he would go into the lab, sit at the big desk, the one closest to the door, and work through his matrices like usual. He didn’t need to respond or react – in fact, Tony told him to try his best to not say anything.

Just ignore it, baby boy. They’ll like it better that way.

And they were somewhere down the hall, in another room of the Tower, waiting exactly where Tony discussed they would be. It was endearing, really. All the careful planning Tony did for him. The weeks of agreements and consents and preparation. It made sitting at that desk so much easier, so much safer. More than his collar alone made him feel. He had begged Tony to let him wear it today – the thin diamond studded leather – and he reluctantly allowed it, knowing the mess it would be facing but being swayed by Peter’s soft pleads and big brown eyes.

But Peter was so thankful for it, thankful for the way Tony gently tugged against the back of it, bringing him back to the present, back to the desk, back to his math homework and everything that would be happening as he completed it.

“Are you ready, princess?” His voice sent a chill down Peter’s spine.

“Yes, daddy.”

It was quiet for a minute after that; Tony moved out of view to another lab desk, tinkering with something, as Peter scribbled an answer down for question number one. It only served to make the sound of the door sliding open more jarring. The sound of shoes squeaking against the floor were more thunderous as they approached him from behind. The sound of a step stool being unfolded and placed directly next to him rang in his ear. It was all so loud to him in the calm of the lab but Peter was good, so he focused on his homework.

“Hey Tony, mind if I use this?” Steve called out, one of his feet already stepping up onto the stool, his hands already undoing his belt right next to Peter’s face.

“Yeah, I don’t care, use it however you want,” Tony called back, not bothering to even peek around the corner.

Not that Peter wanted him to.

No, Peter wanted to feel like a this; like an it. He wanted to sit there, trying to solve math problems while Steve, or whoever else Tony had come through that door, masturbated against his face. It was a better feeling than he imagined it being.

Steve was soft with him. He kept one hand in Peter’s curls and the other at his own cock, pumping tirelessly with the head pressed into the plump of Peter’s cheek, already oozing precum and not being shy about smearing it down the line of Peter’s jaw. All the while petting gentle fingers through Peter’s curls.

And Peter was trying to focus on question number two, but his pencil had stopped moving and his face was starting to go hot as his brain was absorbed by the lewd blend of Steve’s groans and that eager stroking so near his ear. He was so caught up in the experience that he didn’t realize he was holding his breath until Steve was finishing. Peter exhaled heavy, feeling goosebumps light up his skin as cum erupted against his face, three strong pumps against his cheek and forehead and in his hair.

“Thanks, Tony!” Steve was so casual about it, shouting out his thanks to Tony like Peter was nothing more than an object to use and ignore. It had him fighting off a whine that sat at the back of his throat as Steve stepped down, buckling his belt as he left the lab.

Peter had to erase everything he wrote for question two; it was all wrong.

After Steve, it was only seconds before the lab door opened again. This time it was Sam and Bucky.

“Tony, Steve said you don’t care if we use this, is that right?”

Sam asked but Bucky was already on Peter, already standing on the stool with his cock out, fisting at it like he was seconds away from orgasm. His free hand was gripped in Peter's hair, forcing his lips against his cock.

“Yeah, whatever,” Tony called back, almost like he was annoyed by the question. His indifference made Peter slip up, made him moan against Bucky’s cock as it pulsated and shot a thick white in and all around his mouth.

And he was so enraptured by Bucky’s hold that Peter didn’t notice Sam was already close to his climax too; trading places with Bucky just in time to spew more cum against his face.

Bucky and Sam were gone before Peter could even contemplate a better answer for question two. The cum on his face was thick in some places, and runny in others, dripping down his chin and neck, pooling against the seam of his collar and beyond, soaking into his t-shirt. He was starting to feel quite heady in his arousal with each wicked thought that buzzed through his mind being about how filthily he was used. Needless to say, it was becoming difficult to think about math, though he still played his part. Keeping his pencil in hand, eyes fixed on the page, regardless of how hard he was getting in his jeans.

The door opened for a third time. It was Thor, and from the sound of it, he was already pumping at his cock as he walked in.

“Don’t mind me, Stark, just going to use this right quick then I’ll be out of your hair!”

Tony didn’t even use words this time; all he spared was a short hum of agreement like Thor was asking to borrow a spare pen. Peter felt his breath hitch as Thor pulled the stool to Peter’s other side and wasted no time in caking his face in cum.

Peter guessed that the god of thunder would be more potent than others, but he didn’t think it would feel like a cup of liquid syrup gushing against his hair and nose and cheeks. Weighing down his curls and trickling against his shoulder, seeping into his t-shirt and dripping down his arm. The wet and sticky sensation left him feeling positively debased, and aching for his own release.

But they weren’t done.

As soon as Thor left, Bruce walked in. Peter knew it was him without needing to look; professor Hulk’s footsteps weren’t exactly light and he also didn’t need the step stool. He pushed the fucking step stool away like it was a joke as he approached, and just like everyone else, he was already sporting an erection.

Peter knew he wasn’t supposed to look, but who wouldn’t steal a quick glance at the Hulk’s cock? He almost broke character at the sight of it – the size of it – but the sound of Tony clearing his throat stole his attention. Peter looked up and then quickly snapped his eyes back down toward his homework.

Tony was finally back in view, watching as Bruce rubbed the head of his cock against Peter’s face and shoulder. He seemed tense, and Peter knew why; this part was over-negotiated. Bruce wasn’t allowed to touch Peter with his hands. Tony didn’t want his baby boy getting hurt. So Tony wasn’t just watching – no, Tony was enforcing – like he would step in and interrupt if the Hulk stepped out of line. And the thought of that alone made Peter’s brain feel like mush, like he was high, like he could float up from his seat from the ecstasy of it all.

Yet one groan from Bruce brought Peter down to earth because the next moment left him feeling undeniably defiled and so positively delirious. The amount of cum that hit his face made Thor’s seem like a light spritz. The initial pump surprised him so much that he broke his pencil in two and found himself reactively holding his breath and closing his eyes. It was like a torrent of honey down his back, a flood of hot and creamy liquid that pooled in between his thighs and trickled down his legs and left his shirt feeling soggy.

And there were two more spurts just like that before Bruce was finished, tucking himself back into his pants as he left the lab.

Peter had to swipe away cum that was threatening to drip in his eyes but it almost felt pointless with how much was clinging to his palms. He felt another whine bubble up as he looked down at his very incomplete homework and how wet the bottom of the page was. His next desperate little whine was motivated by how tight his wet jeans felt on his touch-starved cock.

“Stand up, princess.” Tony was suddenly right next to Peter. “We’re not done.”

Peter had no willpower to do anything but pliantly obey, moving to his feet slowly so he didn’t slip, moaning at the sensation of cum dripping everywhere down his body. He took one step towards Tony before he was being folded onto the lab desk, a guiding hand gripping like a threat against the back of his neck and the other yanking his jeans down past his ankles. Peter’s skin and t-shirt clung coldly to the surface of the desk, making him shiver as he was held there.

“Look at you,” Tony hummed, bringing his hand down to spank against the plump of Peter’s ass before pressing at the plug that was fitted so loosely in his hole. “Such a sloppy thing. You like being covered in other men’s cum, baby boy?”

“Yes, daddy,” Peter dragged it out, forced to by the way Tony pressed at the plug before quickly pulling it out. The sensation made Peter’s legs go weak beneath him, made him appreciate that the desk was there to help him stay on his feet. Even more so as Tony reached forward, gathering cum that was sticky on Peter’s face, letting it coat his palm, using it to slick his fingers into Peter’s ass.

Peter gasped, his back arching slightly as Tony’s fingers went as deep as they could, slathering his insides with that sinful mixture of semen. “Daddy, please!” He felt like he was burning and freezing all at once, and the wound up desire coiling in his stomach only made it worse.

“Please, what?” Tony laughed at him, keeping his fingering and his hold on the back of Peter’s neck steady. “Did all that cock in your face make you forget how to use your words, princess? Couldn’t even finish your homework. What a stupid little cum dump.”

That ripped a moan from somewhere deep in Peter, sending a wave of pleasure through his body, threatening to make him come. Though he fought against it, breathing through the throbbing fervor like his life depended on it. “Please, I want your cock inside me, daddy, please, please-”

What happened after that had Peter seeing stars. In one breath, Tony was pulling his fingers out. On the next, he was burying his cock as deep as it would go and pressing his weight into it, pinning Peter against the desk with the force of his cock.

It left Peter writhing beneath him, screaming from the burn of being filled so quickly, and shaking from the orgasm it so mercilessly triggered. The volatile bliss hit him so hard that his vision went white for a blink and his head drooped against the desk as his cock released spurts of cum in waves of ruthless pleasure that he was drowning in.

So when Tony began thrusting and Peter had nowhere to run, he sobbed, his vision going blurry with tears. “Daddy, t-too much! I came-!”

“I don’t care, baby,” Tony was grinning, Peter could hear it in that arrogant tone of his voice. “Ask for permission next time or this is what you get.”

Peter instantly regretted saying anything because without warning, Tony was grabbing at his spent cock and pumping at it in time with each thrust of his hips. It was the most decadent agony. A pleasure that had his body flexing and spasming uncontrollably. It felt so intense that he couldn’t string together a sentence, even to beg for Tony to come inside of him. He had no choice but to lay there, trapped by the force of Tony’s hold for seconds that felt like minutes of sweet torture, struggling to breathe between the fast paced in and out of Tony’s cock.

At the end of those drawn out seconds, Tony was coming. Buried to the hilt and groaning as his cum warmed Peter’s insides. He kept himself there, still pumping at Peter’s cock as he leaned down to whisper, all sweet and encouraging, “C’mon, princess. You can do it. Show daddy how good you are.”

Peter was addicted to that; being good for Tony. His body was hardwired for it. Those words were all it took for a second orgasm to ripple throughout his exhausted frame and pull clear squirts from the tip of his cock.

“Daddy,” Peter’s voice was hoarse and his muscles had all given up, and his head was spacey and light as he laid against the desk, feeling every inch of sensation in his body when Tony pulled out. Warm cum leaking out to join the cooled cum that stuck to his legs. The gentle hold Tony had on him to keep him from sliding off the desk.

“You did so good, baby boy,” Tony’s praise made Peter’s already spacey head feel more airy.

“Thank you, daddy.”

“Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

“Yes, please.”

#starker #obligatorywrites #pevengers #ironspider

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cagestark · 3 years ago

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Why am I enamored so much with the thought of Starker mystery-murder dinner party? Hear me out:

Established Starker. Tony is used to making elaborate gestures for his lovers, and celebrating Peter’s 25th birthday (a quarter of a century!) requires something truly special. He’s spent enough nights playing Clue at the tiny table in May’s apartment with Peter and May and whoever else they can rope into those Friday game nights; he’s found Peter dozed on the couch with Dateline on in the background multiple times; and if Peter spoils one more mystery-movie by guessing the killer or the twist half way through the movie, Tony might just stop letting Peter pick their date nights.

So he calls up the Avengers, rents out an appropriately spooky mansion in upstate New York (whose owners are in the tropics avoiding the New England winter and all-too-thrilled to let Tony Stark make use of their home), and sets up an elaborate murder-mystery for Peter to solve with all of the Avengers pretending to be suspects.

And of course, when a real body turns up (and the house empty except for Avengers), what was supposed to be a bit of intrigue and fun is now a genuine murder mystery that Peter is intent to solve...

In my head, this would be mostly comedy with a dash of darkness :)

#starker #murder mystery

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professional-benaddict · 3 years ago

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Opposites Attract - part ll

CEO Tony, Mafia boss Peter, Mafia Beck, Mafia Steve, Mafia Bucky, Pepper is good as always, blackmailing, threats, guns

part l

Tag list: @lilcoffeecup @carelessannie @starkeristheendgame @yasha1215 @the-mad-starker @bluestarker @snowstark @sinditia @just-a-good-name @just-things-things @callmebill @skystar87 @justslightlycrazy @sarcastich @sydneyshipsstuff @lokitonypeter @thequeenoffish

“You’re not the party type.”

“Sorry?”

“You’re not the party type. It’s not like you to throw a party all of a sudden.”

“I felt like it.” I was blackmailed, Tony thought to himself, swallowing thickly.

The man was wearing the tuxedo as instructed, but he had not had the time nor the mental capacity to prepare an excuse if anyone questioned his behaviour or well being tonight. He was nothing but adrenalin and fear, and trembling like a leaf in the wind. Or so he felt.

“Is everyone here?”

“Most are here, I think. I’ll check.” Pepper said, unlocking her iPad. Her perfectly manicured fingers danced over the screen. “The Simmersons are here, Hart, Dickens and his plus one. All of our people, and then- Hm… The Stephens brothers did not show. Nor did Samantha and her wife.”

The hall was buzzing. Usually, Tony hated parties, and especially his own. He would much rather have more intimate meetings with a handful of people than mingle meaninglessly with a hundred people, pretending to care about their lives only to never see them again. This sort of setting did not match his idea of a productive meeting between people. It challenged his own perception of himself as a trustworthy and honest man who people came to for help.

Then again, he had good reason to hate this party. He was blackmailed to host it, and no one else knew.

The letter had stated that they, whoever they were, would come and find him. Tony knew the Mr Beck he had met was involved in this, he was sure of it. But, the letter was not signed, nor did it have a return address. There was no connection between Mr Beck and the threatening letter that Tony could bring to the police for aid. The men in blue would dismiss it without a care. CEO received a threatening letter, and so what? The sun shines and water is wet.

“Any other hiccups so far?” Tony asked, his gaze fixed on the well-dressed crowd in front of him.

“Catering is on schedule, and there is enough drinks. Security has not mentioned anything so far, but… Kathy came to me earlier-“

“Kathy?”

“She’s in charge of the waiters tonight. She said that one of her waiters got sick, but she got a friend of hers to fill in. I don’t remember the name, but she said it’s a guy. He has experience as a waiter, so I think we will be all right. And then…”

Pepper’s voice faded from Tony’s mind. It sounded like she was going far, far away, until he could not hear her at all. In the crowd, Tony zoned in on one man in line outside. That beard, the bright and clear eyes… Mr Beck.

“… We’ll be about 150 all together, and- hey, Tony?”

Tony shoved his way through the crowd as politely as he could, apologising and shooting forced smiles at his guests. He made it just in time before the security guard was going to let Mr Beck in. From experience, Tony knows that invitation checks are rare, and not exactly bulletproof when it comes to stopping uninvited guests at private events. But, this he was sure of. He had not invited Mr Beck, since he had no address to send it to. Tony had hosted his party, as was demanded in the letter, but there was no demand about letting certain people into his party.

Tony felt clever, brilliant even, as he put up his hand to stop Mr Beck from entering.

“Mr Stark-“ The security guard said, a little startled and confused. Mr Beck looked the same.

“I’m here for the party.” Mr Beck said, a half grin tugging on his lips. Tony wanted nothing more than to punch him.

“Check his invitation, Gary.” Tony said to the guard, his eyes fixed on Mr Beck.

“Your invitation, sir.” Gary requested politely. Tony wanted to grin at the look on Mr Beck’s face. Say it, say it.

“I don’t have one.”

“Then, I’m afraid I cannot let you in. This is Mr Stark’s private event.” Gary informed, gesturing for Beck to step aside so that he could let in other guests.

Tony definitely noticed the foul look Mr Beck gave him when he stepped out of the line and headed down the stress. Nothing made him happier.

“Is everything all right, Mr Stark?” Gary asked.

“Everything is fabulous, Gary! It’s a party!”

Tony felt like he was walking on clouds as he returned to his party crowd. He had successfully turned Beck away without causing a fuss, and fulfilling the demands in the letter. He was spotless, no one could pin him down for anything. This time, Tony’s smiles and chatter with his guests was genuine. Perhaps he could grow to like parties, even if they are his own. He is quite the brilliant host.

“Champagne?”

Perfect timing.

“Yes, thank you.” Tony replied, taking a glass for the tray. He did a double take on the waiter before sipping the bubbly drink. “I don’t remember seeing you here before. Do you happen to be the one filling in today?”

“Yes.” The waiter answered. “I’m filling in for Susan.”

“Kathy mentioned it.”

“You’re Mr Stark.”

“Now this is unfair.” Tony groaned playfully. The champagne was going directly to his brain along with the high of his clever trick with Beck. Besides, the waiter was pretty. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

The waiter smiled, and Tony was drawn to his lips which were stretching over his teeth.

“It’s Peter.”

“Peter, and where have you worked before? Kathy said-“

Something hard hitting Tony’s back made him pause in his flirting with the waiter. At a party, it is inevitable for people to bump into each other, feet clashing and elbows flying. But, Tony wished this was an elbow instead.

Without looking behind him, Tony was painfully aware of the man stood behind him. And he was pointing a gun into Tony’s back. The glee and happiness evaporated in an instant, and that icy cold fear came rushing back into Tony’s limbs, leaving him paralysed.

“Quite the stunt you pulled off there, sending Beck away. You thought you were clever, huh? Mr Stark?” The waiter cooed mockingly. Tony did not know what to do, only gape like a stupid looking fish thrown onto land.

“How did you get in here?” Tony asked, trying his hardest to keep his tone steady.

Two ladies came over to Peter for two glasses of champagne, so he only replied once they were out of earshot.

“I came in to fill for Susan, I told you.” Peter answered, acting coy. He was enjoying this far too much, Tony thought.

“And this one?” Tony asked, flickering his gaze to gesture at the man behind him. Another one appeared at his other side as well.

“Oh, Dick and Harold Stephens were kind enough to give their invitations to Stevie and Bucky. I promise you, they are having a fun evening at home.”

Tony did not trust that in the slightest.

“What did you do to them? And Susan?”

Peter did not answer, only smiled again like before. However, this time it made Tony’s stomach turn.

“Shall we go somewhere and talk, Mr Stark? It’s too crowded down here.”

#my prompts #my fics #mafia!peter #starker #tony stark x peter parker #tony stark/peter parker #peter parker x tony stark #peter parker #tony stark #steve rogers #james bucky barnes #quentin beck

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honeymoonjin · 4 years ago

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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 14k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: filmed sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, this time properly tho, unprotected sex, fingering, spanking, riding crop, dom!hoseok, sub!reader, i wasn’t even meant to write the hoseok scene it just happened, anal, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, sensory deprivation, edging, finger sucking, to whoever requested this woohoo here you go !, creampie, now get ready the FUCK for this, orgy : ), you’re welcome, oral (m receiving), more anal, more oral, handjobs, dry humping, Sexy Massage courtesy of taehyung’s golden hands, an atrocious amount of cumplay, mutual masturbation, sub!jungkook, dom!basically everyone else, i call this the koogy, yes i know that name sucks, no i won’t change it, enjoy

banner designer @jamaisjoons | ty sfhs bbs i’m so thankful that i got youniverse

DAY FIFTEEN

You wake to the feeling of fingers in your hair, plush lips pressing against your temple.

Eyes flying open, you suck in a breath to cry out in relief the moment you see Jimin’s face above you, but he quickly covers your mouth, a single finger over his to indicate you should be quiet.

He’s knelt up by your head, and so he appears upside down in your vision. Still, the cocktail of reassurance and concern in your chest brings tears to your eyes. Dried flakes of blood cover the underside of his nose and the skin on top is blooming red and purple, but there’s a strange calmness exuding him in his tender gaze and soft smile.

“Morning,” he whispers, reaching down to ruffle Taehyung’s hair as he curls into your side. “We need to wake Tae. I want to talk to you all before the others get up.”

You knit your brow in confusion, blinking away the last of your restless sleep. “We?” Sitting up gently, Taehyung’s head sliding down your torso to your lap, you glance around the room. It’s still dark, but there’s clearly no sign of the youngest.

Jimin reads your inquiring stare with ease. “I meant you and I. Jungkook’s still in Sejin’s van.”

You suck in a breath, heart hammering. “He’s not leaving, is he?”

Jimin lets out a breathy chuckle. “Jungkook’s in the van calling his roommate to let him know he isn’t moving back in yet. He’s not leaving us, Y/n.”

Your shoulders go lax in pure relief. “Thank god,” you gush, “and he’s okay?”

Jimin nods, face holding none of that icy resentment you saw last night. “We talked a lot. To Sejin, to each other. Jungkookie feels awful, and so do I, but we’ve come to an understanding, you know?” Jimin clears his throat, and leans over, gently rocking Taehyung’s shoulder to wake up. “But I need to make things right with you all, too.”

You nod slowly, worry returning as Taehyung wakes groggily, tearing up at the sight of JImin. While you’d love to assure Jimin that everything was fine, there were still rocks left unturned that you needed to deal with before you could move on.

“You’re here, Minnie?”

Jimin smiles at Taehyung’s look of sleepy disbelief, cupping the younger’s face. “I’m here. I want to talk to you and Y/n; let’s go upstairs.”

Taehyung’s brows furrow, a hand reaching forward to hover in front of Jimin’s face. “Your nose…”

Jimin brushes Taehyung’s hand off with a small smile. “I deserved it. I’ll live. Come on; before the others wake up.”

On your way upstairs, Jimin quietly answers Taehyung’s questions, the same one’s you’d had. The further away from the lounge you are, the less likely you are to wake up the others, but still the sound of water smacking the tiles of the shower in Jimin’s bathroom seems too loud.

Jimin’s shirt is stiff with dried blood on the front, and he winces as he tugs the hem over his head. “I figure we can talk in the shower,” Jimin explains, “we’ll feel better after we clean up.”

You and Taehyung share a curious look, Taehyung still slow from just waking up, but undress obediently.

“I’ve been thinking,” Jimin says emphatically, carelessly discarding his underwear and socks. He waits for the two of you, naked, the streaks of blood and black strokes of his tattoo even starker against his skin with nothing to hide it. “What happened yesterday was awful, yes, and I want to make my apologies to all seven of you, but it made me realise something about us.”

Slipping out of the last of your clothes, you feel your toes go numb from the chilly tile. Jimin glances over the two of you, both undressed, and takes it as time to get in. There’s not much room left once three of you crowd in there, but the spray of the water is a welcome warmth.

“I realised something while we were all fighting,” Jimin repeats. “I can’t stop the others from getting feelings for you. Jin with Y/n, Jungkook with Taehyung. And right now we can’t even act like we’re together in front of the others, and not all of us can be sexually exclusive because of the show. And it’s clear from yesterday that, well… Things are different inside this house. When we can’t leave, when we’re always together. When we don’t have any responsibilities outside of this building.”

Taehyung recoils, his back bumping into the shower rack. “Are you ending things?”

Jimin’s eyes widen, shaking his head hastily. “Of course not- Well, not really.” He tips his head back, letting the strong spray soak his hair and dislodge the blood off his chest. The water is dark pink at his feet, but he doesn’t seem to notice or care, all of his attention firmly on the two of you. “This isn’t a good time for a relationship for any of us. We can’t be committed or open, really, and it’s causing more pain to us.”

Your heart softens in sympathy. “I actually wanted to talk to you both about that too. I… I don’t want to end things, but if I’m honest, I can’t see this working as it is. I mean; how do we draw the line for cheating if we’re on a show where I have to be having sex with five other guys?”

Jimin perks up, relieved at your understanding. “That’s exactly it! And I have an idea,” he trails off when he sees Taehyung’s dejected look. “Pup, what’s wrong?”

“I just-” Taehyung sighs and shrugs, shifting to lean against the glass. “I agree with you both, I just don’t want us to drift apart. It’s hard enough to be close as it is.”

“Oh, Tae,” you coo, reaching out to interlock your fingers. “I don’t think any of us want to drift apart. But what we have now isn’t stable. C’mere.” Taehyung lets you maneuver him as you crack open a container of body wash, beginning to clean him off with a loofah.

Taehyung goes slack, though he continues to hold onto your hand with a needy grip. “Minnie, what’s your idea?” he asks softly.

“A promise,” Jimin explains hesitantly. “That on the final day, once we all walk out that front door, that the three of us give a relationship a real go. We can be free while we’re in here, do whatever or whoever we want. But when we leave this house, I can tell the world that you’re mine. And that I’m yours.”

You pause the soapy swoops of the loofah on Taehyung’s chest, turning fully to face Jimin. “A promise,” you repeat, the word feeling sweet on your tongue. “Jimin, that sounds perfect.”

Beside you, Taehyung gives a boyish grin, visibly relieved at Jimin’s idea. “Like a blood pact!” He pauses to wince at the stained water that runs in rivulets down Jimin’s chest. “Well, maybe less blood and more pact.”

“I think it’ll be good for us,” you offer up, guiding Taehyung forward into the stream of water to wash the suds off. “But… what about the others that still- that still have feelings for us? What if we start getting close to other people?”

Taehyung gently tugs the loofah out of your hand, and you shiver when you feel the graze of the plastic thread run down your chest. Tae smiles and does it again just to drink in your reaction, before he sobers up. “Would it really be so bad to get close to other people?” he asks softly.

Jimin winces. “It could get messy, pup. Especially if we’re still keeping this on the down-low.”

“It’s already messy,” Taehyung points out with a frown. He hands the sudsy loofah to Jimin, letting his fingers naturally slip into your hair, massaging your scalp. Even as your mind goes hazy with the pleasure of Tae washing your hair, you force yourself to listen to his words too. “Jungkook lost it yesterday because he felt like the rest of us were excluding him, that because I liked you so much that he’d be left alone. That’s fucking awful, Jimin. My heart ached for you too, but it hurt so much to see him that upset over something that doesn’t have to be true. If we’re going to let ourselves be free on this show, then I want to show him that I’m there for him, too. He’s important to me.”

You close your eyes. Behind your lids play images of the hurt on Jin’s face, of Jungkook’s look of betrayal and Namjoon’s tears. Hoseok’s lack of energy, Yoongi’s resignation. Your two boyfriends - boyfriends to-be now? - just as devastated as the rest of them. Every snapshot replayed over and over, making you feel sick. You couldn’t let things get to that point again. “He’s important to me too,” you murmur, Taehyung shifting you so that the water clears away the soap from your hair. “None of us did right by him. I wanna spend some quality time with Jungkookie today and cheer him up a bit. Show him that we do care.”

“I’d like that,” Jimin says. “Him and I talked a lot last night, you know? He’s a pretty smart kid. I’m sure he’s beating himself up right now for losing control like that.”

The two guys finish cleaning themselves up, the water finally running clear as you wring your hair out. Stepping out of the shower to grab a towel, Taehyung sits himself on the edge of the bath, giving you space to get your own towel and start drying off. “Minnie,” he calls out unsurely.

“Yeah, pup?” Jimin says with an easy smile. Taehyung pauses, chewing on the inside of his cheek, making the blue-haired man frown. “What is it, Tae?”

Taehyung looks down, his toes wiggling against the tile floor. “It’s great that you made up with Jungkookie, and I appreciate you talking to us, I really do. But you need to apologise to Hoseok.”

Jimin’s smile falters, a line deepening between his brows. “What do you mean?”

“You elbowed him right in the face, Min,” Taehyung says in exasperation, “you need to say sorry.”

You should bite your tongue, keep Hoseok’s business to himself. But your worry for the dom outweighs that instinct. “Hoseok thinks you really hate him now, Jimin,” you explain slowly. “He thought the two of you were playing up the rivalry for some good drama on the show, but now…”

Taehyung’s eyes are round, glittering. “Do you hate him, Minnie? Hobi-hyung is actually really nice once you get to know him.”

Jimin stiffens up, letting out a sigh as he lets his towel fall, stepping into some boxer briefs. “I just think he’s here for a good time instead of caring about the competition.”

“But do you hate him?” the masseuse presses. Jimin falls silent, getting dressed. Satisfied, Tae begins to dry himself off and dress too. “You at least owe him a conversation,” he finishes.

Jimin swallows, tugs a shirt over his head. “I do,” he admits, “and I’ll apologise.” He pauses with a sigh, eyes darting over Taehyung with a look akin to wonder. “You’re determined to make me a better person, huh?”

“I think you’re better than you give yourself credit for, that’s all,” Taehyung says lowly. “Anyways; the others are probably waking up by now.”

You finish changing quietly, your mind beginning to grow waterlogged with all the conflicts and relationships floating in your mind. Elimination was meant to be about the sex, sure, but things had grown so thorny that you knew that whoever you voted out tomorrow morning would have repercussions in everyone else. If you took out Hoseok like you were going to last week, would it make it more difficult for him and Jimin to smooth out their differences? If you voted out Jungkook, would he just spiral more, already so unstable? You could vote one of the older ones, but age didn’t mean it would hurt less. Yoongi would be so shocked coming off his win. Jin would probably think you were publicly rejecting him. To cut Namjoon off after he was finally finding his feet just seems cruel. And could you possibly vote off one of your boys?

“Are you okay? Y/n?”

You glance up, Jimin and Taehyung by the door, staring back at you. “Oh; are we going?”

Worry flits across their faces. “I just said we should head out,” Jimin explains, “are you alright?”

You push down your worries, taking a deep breath. “Stressed about elimination. At least I have another day to decide.”

Taehyung lets out a low sigh of empathy, stepping back in to link your arms. “Oh, petal,” he croons, leading you out into Jimin’s bedroom. “If you really can’t decide, you could flip a coin for it.”

“Tae,” Jimin chastises, though there’s no bite to his tone.

“I’m serious!” Taehyung insists, reluctantly letting go of you the further away you get from the privacy of Jimin’s room. “I hate seeing Y/n upset. It would be easier if she didn’t have to feel guilty about the decision, you know?”

Your heart sings at Taehyung’s thoughtfulness. “I think I’ll feel guilty either way, but I appreciate it, Tae. If I ask you for a coin, you know why.” He smiles at you, opening his mouth to reply, but your attention is quickly caught by the sight of a hunched figure sneaking in through the front door. You gasp. “Jungkookie?”

He looks a mess; eyes red, hair tangled and clothes wrinkled from a restless night. There are a hundred reasons you should be angry at him. He hit Jimin, he insulted you and everyone else in the house, he made Tae cry. But all you can think of is the devastation on his face when Sejin dragged him out of the room, the way his voice cracked on every apology.

Jungkook barely processes you rushing down the stairs before you’re colliding into him, the air punched out of his chest as you tuck your face against him and wrap your arms around his back tightly.

“Wha-?” Hesitantly, like he’s convinced you’re going to freak, he brings his own arms up, reciprocating the hug. “Y/n?”

You feel tears prick your eyes as you feel the tension leave his body, relief that you weren’t currently hitting or yelling at him. He presses his cheek against the crown of your head and sniffs back a sob, making you tighten your grip. “I’m so sorry, Gukkie,” the nickname leaving your mouth without thought.

He lets out a weak laugh of disbelief. “I’m the one that’s sorry,” he insists, voice still a shocked whisper. “I fucked up so bad, how do you not hate me right now?”

You feel pressure to your left; Taehyung joining the hug, arms around the two of you. “We all fucked up,” he says airily, like it’s of little importance. “What matters now is that we stick together and make sure not to do that ever again. We were so worried about you, you know? Sejin made it seem like you two might leave for good.”

You pull back just enough to take in Jungkook’s face as he gives the two of you a teary smile, before his eyes flit behind you to where Jimin stands. Eyes warming in understanding. “We aren’t leaving.”

You see Jimin’s hand reach out over you to squeeze Jungkook’s shoulder. Stepping closer, he gives the youngest a warm smile. “We should go in to the lounge. Both of us have some apologising to do.”

Jungkook swallows and nods, letting you and Tae go as the four of you make your way inside.

In the lounge blankets and pillows are still strewn over the carpet. While most of the guys are up in the kitchen, moving glumly, Yoongi and Jin are sitting on the floor with their backs against a couch, speaking quietly. They’re the first ones to notice you enter, the rest preoccupied with making breakfast.

Yoongi winces when his eyes land on Jimin, the doctor no doubt concerned about the blooming colour across the bridge of his nose. “Sejin said it’s not broken,” he says as way of greeting.

Jimin shakes his head ruefully.

“Then my sympathy for you is minimal. Come on; we should go to the table for this.”

This is unspoken but clear to all of you. The point where you had to make it right, assess the damages in the aftermath and do what had to be done.

Pulling the chairs out from the table in the space between the kitchen and the lounge, Jimin and Jungkook choose to sit beside each other, Taehyung scooting in close beside Jungkook, the two having stuck close together this whole time. Even in the solemnity of the situation, it warms your heart to see them almost back to their normal selves. Back to the time when they were like partners in crime. With the way Taehyung grins softly at what Jungkook says, the two leaning their heads in conspiratorially, you don’t doubt they’ll be back to their usual ways soon.

The squeak of the chairs has caught the attention of those in the kitchen by now, and Namjoon gasps at the sight of them. “Oh, Jimin!” he exclaims. “What happened to your nose?”

You have no doubt that the question slips out automatically without Namjoon even thinking about it. Jimin laughs, wincing when his nose crinkles. “I don’t know if you recall,” he jibes fondly, “but I got sucker punched in the face last night.”

Jungkook punches him on the shoulder lightly, though his strength still jostles the older man. “Nothing a good face mask can’t fix, hey?”

“I can’t stand you,” Jimin complains with a sigh.

“Thank god you’re sitting down then, hyung.” Jungkook grins cheekily, everyone else stunned into silence. It’s such a far cry from the screaming match last night that it’s hard to wrap your head around it.

As the rest of you sit - you at one end of the table adjacent to Jimin, Yoongi taking the opposite end and Namjoon and Jin following beside him, Hoseok is forced to sit directly across from Jimin. He watches the two of them cautiously, a bluish circle on his right cheek evidence of the altercation last night. Jimin’s smile drops when he sees it.

Yoongi waits for everyone to sit before he clears his throat lightly. As the calmest person yesterday, it doesn’t surprise you to see him speaking up first. “Yesterday was unacceptable,” he says lowly. “But the fault rests on no single person. We all made mistakes, so let’s just front up about it and try and move on. I don’t know about you, but I’ve seen enough pain to last me the show.”

“Can I start?” Jungkook asks softly, as the others nod in response to Yoongi. “I, uh, I have a lot to apologise for. But… I don’t apologise for telling you all how I felt. Because it really sucked feeling like the odd one out. I don’t want your pity now, I just want to be friends again, you know? I want to get close to everyone again and enjoy being here.”

“Oh, Jungkookie,” Taehyung coos, leaning over to rest his head on Jungkook’s shoulder. Instinctively, your eyes find Jimin’s, but instead of looking upset or irritated, he sends the pair a fond smile. No longer was it a bad thing that one of you was sharing affection with one of the other guys. Now you had the freedom to see it as a good thing; it was good that Taehyung cared for Jungkook, it was good that Jungkook was being cared for. Your heart feels full watching Taehyung be so loving of the youngest guy in the house.

Jungkook himself takes a bracing breath, grateful of the contact. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I took things too far. I was so wound up that I couldn’t think straight, and I know I need to work on not getting aggressive. What I did was so, so wrong. Telling Jin’s secret without permission and hitting Jimin? I’m so ashamed of myself. I don’t deserve your forgiveness or your trust but I do selfishly hope you’ll give it to me anyway.” He finishes with a self-deprecating shrug, eyes locked down on his lap.

Jimin reaches over to take Jungkook’s hand in his, patting it. “You know you already have my forgiveness.”

Eyes around the table shift to Jin, who shifts, face impassive. He stays silent for a few moments, jaw working. “I forgive you,” he says finally, “but that doesn’t mean I’m not upset at you for doing what you did.”

“I understand, hyung,” Jungkook replies in a low voice. Before he can speak further, the oldest clears his throat.

��Speaking on that,” Jin states, his face slightly stiff with discomfort, “I need to apologise too. I… At the start of this game, I told you all that my door was always open, that I wanted you to see me as somebody you could come to for advice anytime… I shouldn’t have done that. Of course I want to help you, but it wasn’t wise or healthy for me to commit to that. I’ve struggled a lot in my career with putting my own feelings and wellbeing on the backburner in order to prioritise my clients, and I fell in that hole yet again. I can’t stay objective when my emotions are so clearly compromised, and we saw the consequences of that last night. If I hadn’t have gotten so involved, perhaps I could’ve de-escalated the situation.” He clears his throat, takes a breath, and glances around the room with a small smile. “So with all due respect, I’m resigning as the show’s live-in therapist. Come to me if you wish, but please do it as a friend.”

You return the smile broadly. “I’m really proud of you, Jin, that sounds like a good idea.”

He laughs sheepishly, ears pinkening. “Anyways, that was all I had to say. Anyone else?”

Jimin raises a hand. “I’ll take that up,” he says warmly. “First of all, I want to say sorry to all of you. Jungkookie; I know we talked for a long time last night but I want to say again that I was far too harsh on you, and defensive when I should’ve been sympathetic. Everyone else, I apologise that you had to deal with me like that, being so nasty. It’s easy for me to let my- I don’t want to make excuses,” he says with a grimace, “but my experiences and my time in the porn industry made me a very negative and jaded person for a long time. I’m trying to get better, but I let my efforts slip last night and I’m so fucking sorry. You all have been so patient with me, and I wanna do right by you.”

Across from him, Hoseok listens intently. When it seems Jimin is done speaking, he presses his lips together and looks away.

But then Jimin says his name.

Hoseok glances up with a shocked look as Jimin lets out a regretful sigh. “Listen, me hitting you was so wrong,” Jimin admits plainly. “I wasn’t really thinking, it wasn’t a personal thing at all. But regardless of my intention yesterday, I wanna be really clear now. I think you’re a dipshit and an asshole, and you eat so fucking loudly, but I don’t hate you. I never have.”

Hoseok gapes for a moment or two, lips moving silently. “I- Jimin, I don’t hate you either,” he confesses. “You’re a wanker and too egotistical for your own good, but yeah. I don’t actually hate you either. You’re just fun to wind up, Peaches.”

Taehyung stares between the two of them; Hoseok wearing a self-satisfied but relieved smile as Jimin sputters. “You two should kiss,” he breathes dreamily.

“Tae,” Jimin protests, scandalised, but soon the entire table is joining in cracking up at the two rivals. “Guys!”

The sound of everyone laughing freely suddenly hits you in the chest, and you have to blink quickly to stop from tearing up. You’d missed this more than you even realised. “Can we just- Elimination isn’t until tomorrow now,” you remind everyone, hands wringing, “so can we just enjoy today? Spend it together? Of course not all of us may be over what happened, I don’t know, but I just want to really be with you guys.” You bite your lip as you glance around the fond looks of the guys, none of them sheltering the resentment you probably deserve. “I haven’t treated all of you fairly, and I want to make it right by spending more quality time with you… If you want to.”

Yoongi, who’s been pretty quiet this whole time, winks at you from the opposite end of the table. “I like the sound of that,” he supports with a heartfelt tone, “but if I’m going to be stuck with you jokers for the day, I need some food in me.” He turns to the youngest. “JK, could I request your assistance in the kitchen. I need your G.I. Joe muscles to chop some vegetables for me.”

“I can help?” Jungkook asks hopefully, before getting out of his chair with such enthusiasm that it just about falls to the ground. “I’ll go wash my hands, Chef Min!”

You’re so caught up in watching them banter back and forth, making their way to the pantry, that you don’t notice a whispered message spreading until Jimin leans into your side easily, lips brushing the lobe of your ear.

You jump, making him let out a breathy laugh. “We’re all taking extra special care of the baby today. Pass it on.”

You pull back with a bemused smile. “Is that so?”

Jimin rolls his eyes, but a smile quirks at his lips. “Taehyung’s idea. Are we surprised?”

Your eyes find Taehyung. He’s getting up himself, skipping over to the kitchen insisting that he’s going to help. “Not for a second.” Hoseok is to your left around the corner of the table, and you scoot over, placing a hand on his arm. The dom looks at you with wide eyes when you lean in close, though Jungkook is far enough away in the walk-in pantry that you just speak lowly. “Everyone’s gonna pamper Gukkie today, you in?”

Hoseok’s eyes crinkle prettily, beaming. “I’m game. The kid deserves it.”

You indicate to pass the message on to Namjoon, but Hoseok’s hand flies up to grip your elbow, keeping you close. “Hobi?”

His face is open, eyes pleading. “Spend some time with me today?”

Your heart warms even as guilt runs thinly through your veins. “Of course. We could go pick some board games?”

His beam returns, radiant. “Let’s go.”

As it stands, the one storage closet in the villa is filled with all the equipment you could possibly need. Larger cleaning supplies that didn’t fit in the laundry like a mop and broom, a small stack of games, some spare linen - and, as it seems, the collection of sex toys that the show provided.

Under the stairs, the closet is just big enough for you two to slip inside, you turning on a light and letting out a giggle at the set of drawers that houses the Bangasm collection. Each drawer is labeled with a plastic sticker - insertables, wearables, miscellaneous. Above, hanging on what looks like a coat hook nailed to the wall, are a number of riding crops and flogs.

“Far out,” you muse, “Monopoly and anal plugs, what a clo-oof!” The breath is kicked out of you as Hoseok grips you by the shoulders, whirls you around to face him and pushes you against the wall, his body caging you in. “Hoseok,” you gasp breathlessly.

He leans in, face cast in shadow from the naked bulb dangling behind him. “Is this okay?” he murmurs, lips barely brushing yours.

Your eyes flutter shut. “Fuck, yes it is!” You don’t even finish your sentence before he’s pressing his body against you fully, lips moving greedily against yours. You let out a satisfied hum, hand reaching up to anchor yourself, hooked on the nape of his neck.

You fall so fully into the kiss, going lax with every teasing swipe of his tongue that you struggle to keep track of his hands. It feels like they’re everywhere; running up your sides, tugging at your waistband, brushing over your jaw. You don’t come back to clarity until you feel one fisting in your hair, pulling your mouth away from him.

You moan wantonly into the quiet of the closet, but Hoseok tuts at the noise, slipping his thumb into your open mouth. With bleary eyes, you wrap your lips around the digit and suck automatically, making him curse.

“Are you gonna be quiet like a good little girl?” he questions. “Gonna let me fuck that pretty little ass of yours?”

Your eyes widen, making a strangled noise in the back of your throat even as your core aches.

He grins, wolfish. “Surprised? I thought I better give your pussy a rest. You’re lucky I’m so thoughtful, hm? Say, ‘thank you, Sir.’”

You open your mouth to pull back, but he keeps the pad of his thumb pressed against your tongue. “‘ankoo, thir.”

“That’s it, princess. Turn around now, hands on the wall.” Finally he removes his thumb from your mouth, giving you space to adjust yourself, but you can’t help but miss the feeling of fullness, of having something to suck on. You bite your lip as you crane your neck to glance behind you, but a dull bloom of pain on your ass makes you jump. “Did I say you could turn around?”

You shiver, the aching spot too small to be his hand. “No, sir.” It’s impossible to keep your head forward when you feel cold hands slipping your pants and panties down, letting them sit mid-thigh. You grit your teeth and stare ahead at the lightswitch.

“That’s it,” he repeats again. His voice is low, rhythmic timbre that has your mind smoothing out, giving over to him. “The walls of this closet are thin so you aren’t allowed to make any noises, got it? And keep your face forward.”

“Yes, sir,” you sigh out automatically, feeling a cold square of something run over you. It isn’t solid like plastic, but there’s a stiffness to it that makes your toes curl. The thought of it striking you again, without clothes to dull the impact, has your hips rocking back needily.

His free palm runs over your bared ass, slowly warming to your skin’s natural heat. You relax, sighing, and it’s in that moment of letting your guard down that he strikes you again, the sound echoing thinly in the small room.

You let out a throaty cry and jump away, even as you feel heat gather between your legs at the delicious sting.

“Shh,” Hoseok chastises, his hand now soothing the mark. “Now you know what it feels like. That’s a riding crop, princess. Never felt one of those before?”

Your head falls between your shoulders. You want to turn around so bad, and it makes him chuckle. “No, sir.”

“I’m sure we’ll be getting better acquainted with it,” the dom says airily, before you hear the crack of a plastic lid. The contents are immediately recognisable as the icy coolness of lube is spread down your center, Hoseok’s finger circling the tight muscle of your ass. “Relax for me, princess.”

You do your best to follow his command, willing yourself to go lax. The initial intrusion of his first finger feels so alien, invasive, that you let out a whine. Hoseok punishes the noise with a quick, light swat of the riding crop, and you inhale harshly through your nose, clenching around his finger as it slowly thrusts inside you.

“You’re doing so well for me, princess. I’m going to put in another finger now.”

Even with his warning, the added stretch has you trembling, knees struggling to support your weight. It feels right on the edge of how much you can take, not painful but so overwhelming, and you find yourself desperate for something to ground you. The riding crop… Taking your chance to seek out punishment, you crane your neck back to see him.

He’s not in the outfit you saw on him last Monday, but he’s still wearing mostly black, the only exception being a metallic belt cinched at his waist, glinting in the light from the bulb. The riding crop, one he’s no doubt taken from the coat hook, is an innocuous looking thin black rod with a squarish fold of leather at the end. His fingers grip the end gracefully, and the second he sees you glancing back, they tense and flick it, catching you on the thigh.

It hurts more there, but the pain feels like a warm anchor, and a dopey grin stretches across your face as you turn your head back. “Thank you, sir,” you sigh out happily, the consistent movement of his fingers inside you beginning to feel good.

Hoseok clicks his tongue, bemusement clouding his tone. “Is my princess a little pain slut, hm? I’ll spank you if you need it, baby, but if you turn your head around one more time, you’ll regret it. I don’t appreciate being deliberately disobeyed.”

True to his word, the hits begin to rain down more regularly. Each one stings for no more than a moment, his blows far from bruising, but still the ache has you muffling your moans in your throat, high on it.

So caught up in anticipating where the strip of leather would strike next, you barely even realise he’s moved up to three fingers before he’s slipping them out. Letting out an unbidden whine at the emptiness, you jump when a much sharper stroke lands on the back of your opposite thigh, your knee almost giving out.

Fingers curling on the walls of the closet, you pant out an apology as you listen in to the sound of his buckle and zip. Soon enough, the blunt head of his cock is pressing to your entrance.

Automatically, you tense up, resulting in a quick swat on the top of your ass. “Relax,” Hoseok commands gruffly, punctuating the word with another hit.

You barely manage to keep quiet as he sinks into you, so much deeper than his fingers could ever reach. Biting harshly into your bottom lip, you sink your chest further down, braced fully against the wall.

Hoseok seems to be just as affected as you, grunting as he bottoms out. “Fuck, so tight,” he growls, hands gripping your hips. The rod of the riding crop digs into your hipbone and you miss the feeling of it swatting you, even as your skin feels red hot. You moan out loud, hoping to incite punishment, but he just rocks into you and hisses at the snug fit. “God, taking it so well, princess.”

You moan again as he begins to thrust inside you, this time unintentionally. But still, he’s lost in the feeling of you clenching around him, and lets your breaking of the rule slide. With every slow stroke of his cock, your pussy feels empty, clit needy for contact. But the stretch of him in your ass has drool pooling on your tongue, hips rocking back against him in the hopes for more.

Wary of the thin walls Hoseok mentioned, but craving the sting of the riding crop, you let out quiet cries, even whining his name. The dom just chuckles, continuing his achingly slow speed. “Want something?”

Fuck. “You’re really going to make me beg?” you ask breathlessly. “You said we had to be fast.”

“You’re right.” Without ceremony, Hoseok pulls out of you. The absence causes you to immediately plead, feeling so empty without him. Luckily, your mindless babbling proves his point, and he slips himself back inside with one resolute snap of his hips. “If there’s something you want, you better hurry up and ask nicely, princess.”

You sob, back arching to feel him even deeper, his thrusts far too slow to get you anywhere. “Fuck, please spank me sir, I wanna feel it.”

“Since you said please,” Hoseok quips dryly, before his hips resume their pace, enough for your body to be bounced forward slightly on every upstroke. It’s then that he readies the crop and when he strikes, it’s without mercy.

One hand coming forward to slip his thumb back into your mouth - enough to muffle your cries but leaving sufficient space for you to safeword if you needed it - the other rains down countless hits on your sensitive ass and thighs, the skin on fire as each swat rings out in the small space. Paired with the smooth, constant stimulation inside you, the pain rackets your orgasm closer and closer, making you tremble and suck harshly on his thumb.

“Close, princess?” Hoseok asks with a breathy chuckle, and you nod frantically, moaning around his digit. Suddenly, he slows down to a teasing grind, and you hear the brittle clatter of the riding crop drop to the floor. Ignoring your disappointed cries, he runs his calloused palms over your sore skin. “Oh, look at you,” he coos, “I knew this ass would look perfect after a good spanking. Pretty in pink.”

It’s a trap. You know it’s a trap, but you’re so out of your mind from the edging that you turn around to look anyway.

You can’t even see your ass properly from that angle. The only thing you see is Hoseok’s predatory grin as he reaches the now-free hand out and flicks off the light. “I warned you,” his voice calls out lightly in the pitch darkness.

That brief moment of silence after he speaks is your only respite before he raises your chest so it presses up against the wall and fucks you into oblivion.

Unsure if your eyes are even open or closed, you can’t see a single thing, your heart-rate automatically rising as Hoseok replaces his thumb with two fingers pressing down on your tongue, keeping you steady as he rams you.

If his slow thrusts were mindblowing, the brutal pace of his hips now has you going crazy, unable to process anything other than the overwhelming, inescapable pleasure that runs through you viciously. Your ass stings every time his hips smack against it, and you feel drool running down your chin as you fail to properly suck.

It takes a single swipe of his fingers against your clit for you to jerk into a convulsive orgasm, shuddering and shaking wildly against him as he continues to rut into you without mercy. Even after your hands go tingly and your feet go numb, he continues to rub at the swollen bud, which can barely handle the pleasure it’s been denied for so long.

Too soon, that pleasure turns to pain, and not the fun kind. You sob, trying to wiggle away but the arm low over your hip keeps you in reach as Hoseok chases his own end. “S-suh-sensitive,” you stutter, barely noticing his fingers slipping from your mouth to grip your hip, giving him the leverage to fuck you harder.

“Princess is going to cum again for me,” Hoseok gruffly commands, and you cry, reluctantly turning over to the pleasure of a new orgasm approaching. How he brings you back to the edge so fast is beyond you, but you feel passive to the stimulation that electrifies your every nerve. And when he tells you to cum, you cum.

Like your body can’t handle all the sensations at once, your hearing drops away, your sense of balance or self-awareness. A burst of heat inside you signifies Hoseok’s orgasm, warm palms holding you steady as he lowers you to the floor.

Instead of dusty floorboards, your ass is met with a soft fabric, and you reach out, feeling the telltale smoothness of linen, what feels like a pillowcase. It’s the absurd thought of you leaking cum onto a pillowcase that brings you back from that floaty subspace, an exhausted chuckle bubbling out of your throat.

“You okay?” Hoseok checks in. “I’m going to turn the light back on; it’ll be bright.”

He’s right. The sharp light from the bulb - once seeming wan - stings your eyes, and you wince and shield them. “Fuck, Hoseok, you menace.”

He grins, though his eyes still furrow with worry. “Are you alright? I didn’t go too hard, did I? You responded well to it, so…”

Your eyes slip closed, starbursts behind your lids firing away. Letting your head knock back against the wall of the closet with a hollow thud, you sigh happily. “It was fucking incredible, holy shit.”

Hoseok chuckles, grabbing another pillowcase from the shelves of sheets and blankets. “Use this to clean yourself up if you want. I have something really important I need to ask you.”

You look back up with the serious tone in his voice. Frowning, you gingerly wipe the lube, cum and arousal from between your legs, wincing at the oversensitivity. “What’s up?”

Hoseok sighs slowly, turning away from you. “Pictionary or Charades?”

You have a few hours of innocent fun before things begin to turn.

As it turns out, the nonchalant Jeon Jungkook is a beast at any board game you can drag out from the closet, and he grins toothily every time things turn in his favour. He deciphers Namjoon’s chicken scratch drawing of a dentist that left the rest of you stumped, he seems to avoid every single owned property when you play Monopoly, he manages to come up with a 40-point word on Scrabble, much to everyone’s dismay.

It’s his choice for lunch as the game’s winner - though you suspect Jin was going to let him choose anyway - and so you have the pleasure of watching Jungkook’s cheeks fill with pork, tofu, potatoes, egg. Yoongi doesn’t even complain when he keeps talking through his mouthfuls, just handing the youngest a napkin when he struggles to chew it all.

Even Jimin seems content for the attention to be off him. While you were rendesvousing with Hoseok he must have ducked upstairs to put on some makeup, because he’s perfectly concealed the bruise on his nose, looking fresh and dewy even as he winces occasionally with the ache of it. He spends his time fawning over Jungkook like the rest of you, patting his cheeks and praising him in the games.

In the end, it’s Taehyung’s golden hands that signify the start of something a little less family friendly.

His offer for a massage is perfectly innocuous. Jungkook has a twinge in his shoulder from hitting the coffee table back-first, and then sleeping on the floor in the production van. He jumps at Taehyung’s generous suggestion, asking for the same massage oil as last time.

Whether he remembers it’s the oil that is safe to be used as lube, you don’t know, but by the time Taehyung returns with it, Jungkook is sitting on the couch with no shirt on, grinning eagerly.

Due to the unspoken rule to all be there for Jungkook, the other six of you remain. Or, perhaps, it’s the desire to watch the expressions on Jungkook’s face as Taehyung works away the toxins in his muscles.

Either way, you find yourself tucked between Namjoon and Jimin on one couch; Hoseok, Jin and Yoongi on the other as the two youngest take the middle one.

As the masseuse straddles Jungkook’s bare torso, perched on the back of the couch, you can’t help but be reminded of Jimin’s striptease. How much this felt like a performance just like that one.

Jungkook isn’t flexing, letting himself hunch over slightly to give Tae better access, but his body is still so perfectly proportioned. His abdomen ridged with muscle, his biceps curved to make you drool. As he tilts his head to one side and then the other, spine clicking, his hair brushes on his bare shoulders. You wonder if it’s normally this long, or if he just hasn’t got it cut in a while. You wonder if he likes to have it tugged. It’s the perfect length for it.

“This may feel cold,” Taehyung warns as he runs his palms together, the oil glistening in between. Jungkook sighs out when Tae finally puts his hands on him, spreading the slightly floral-scented oil over his skin.

“Feels nice, hyung,” Jungkook lets out airily, making Taehyung giggle.

“I haven’t even started yet. Stay still.”

Watching Taehyung massage Jungkook almost feels like watching live art. There’s a harmony in the way they unconsciously align their breathing so that their chests rise and fall in unison. A liveliness in the way Jungkook’s lips part and lashes flutter. Even a sensuality in those deep presses of Taehyung’s fingers, Jungkook’s flesh ripping under his touch.

In fact, it’s so enchanting watching those details in their faces and bodies that it takes you a few minutes to realise that Jungkook’s reactions are… perhaps more enthusiastic than the situation warrants.

His eyes are shut, head lolled back against Tae’s thigh as the masseuse begins to run his hands over his sternum, pressing out the tension in his chest. A guttural noise vibrates in his throat every time Taehyung’s fingers wander closer to his nipples, which are tight peaks, his breath shallow but quick.

“Deep breaths, Jungkookie,” Taehyung instructs quietly, guiding his head forward so that he can return to Jungkook’s back. Taehyung balls his hand into a fist, sliding it down the hollow between Jungkook’s spine and shoulder blade. The boy, with his head tipped forward, lets out a moan. Taehyung freezes.

Jungkook hisses, shuffling back to bump against Taehyung’s loosened fist. “Don’t stop, hyung. Feels so good.”

Taehyung’s eyes lift to the rest of you, who watch wide-eyed. He shrugs, silently asking your opinion, and Hoseok just gives a nod. Biting his lip, the masseuse continues.

Each swoop, stroke, and press of Taehyung’s fingers and knuckles wring open-mouthed moans from the shameless boy. Between locks of hair that obscure his face, you can see red cheeks and a satisfied grin. Dropping your gaze, you see the stiff outline that tents his sweatpants.

As you glance around the room, it seems the others are starting to realise too. Namjoon’s shyly hiding his own erection, Yoongi’s eyes are like two black furnaces as they watch the scene unfold. Hoseok, the first one to encourage it, licks his lips as he watches, clearly not satisfied from his time in the closet with you this morning. Your core aches at the reminder.

“A little lower, hyung?” Jungkook asks, his voice almost whiny as he makes his request. His breath hitches audibly as Taehyung begins to massage his lower back, just above his hips. The masseuse has to hunch down just to reach it, but he dutifully relieves the tension there, too. “Ah, thank you, Tae. Taking care of me so good.”

Beside you, Jimin sucks in a light breath, and you do the same. That, paired with his wanton moans and hard-on, is a clear indicator of what exactly he wants, and with the way Taehyung’s eyes widen, he knows it too.

“Do you just want hyung to take care of you, Jungkookie?” Taehyung questions lightly. “Or all of us?”

Jungkook whines at the words alone, his head lifting but eyes staying firmly shut. “All of you,” he admits lowly.

Beside you, Jimin lets out a pleased hum, his fingers winding into your hair. “Do you want to go help out our Jungkookie, little mouse?” He tugs lightly, your head tilting back willingly as he runs a finger over your lips. “Put this pretty little mouth to use?”

Your lips part, Jimin’s finger grazing over your teeth before he pulls away, letting you rise to your feet unsteadily. Patting you on your ass - probably not realising that it was as sensitive as it actually is - he sends you on your way.

The thought that Jimin was asking you to service Jungkook just makes you wetter, and you feel the whole room’s eyes on you as you sink to your knees between Jungkook’s lazily spread legs.

You meet Taehyung’s eyes, the masseuse smoothly running his palms up the expanse of Jungkook’s back before his fingers slip into his hair, guiding it to face down as he whispered in Jungkook’s ear, too quiet for even you to catch it.

Whatever he said makes Jungkook’s eyes fly open, unfocused before they land on you and widen. “Y/n,” he exclaims, groaning when your hand runs over his clothed cock, tracing the outline. “Fuck.”

You grin, remembering the last time you were between his legs. “Do you want my mouth, Gukkie, or my hands?”

He gulps, Taehyung sweetly tucking Jungkook’s hair behind his ear and pressing a kiss to his temple. “C-Can I have both?”

Your grin widens, exposing teeth as you grip him in his pants, making his breath hitch. “That’s very greedy of you,” you chastise, “it’s a good thing we’re treating you today.”

He sighs, lips twitching in a pleased smile once he realises he’s getting what he wants. Taehyung’s fingers run curved lines over Jungkook’s scalp, beginning to massage it as you pull back the waistband of Jungkook’s sweats.

He’s not wearing any underwear - the thought making you consider that perhaps he’d hoped or even planned for something like this to happen - and your mouth waters when you wrap your fingers around him. They don’t quite touch, and he’s not even the thickest cock in the house.

Precum makes his tip glossy, collecting in the small dip right at the top. You run your index finger over it, tapping it to watch the wet strings cling and stretch. Jungkook hisses, brows knitting as he bites down on his lip.

Though his weeping cock is a pretty sight, it isn’t quite enough lubricant to comfortably jerk him off, and so you lean forward, letting your spit drop off your tongue and run down him. He groans as you use it to coat his length, twisting your wrist just slightly under the head. There were many things that were new to you on this show, and so you’re more than ready to take advantage of something you’re well-versed in.

You hear a throat clear behind you; not the kind that seeks attention, but the quiet cough of forced restraint and composure. You can’t pin just who it is from the short sound alone, but the reminder that people are watching inspires you to put on a show.

Under the guise of getting comfortable, you shift on your knees to arch your back more, leaning in to press a kiss to Jungkook’s tip, blinking up at him innocently.

The camboy curses, head falling back into Taehyung’s lap. “You’re gonna kill me,” he moans, “that’s so fucking cute.”

You let out a laugh, Taehyung carding through Jungkook’s hair to break up the tangles he’s made. Jungkook watches you through his lashes, and you smile sweetly. “Is this cute?” Without waiting for an answer, you take a deep breath and wrap your lips around him, bobbing down enough to almost trigger your gag reflex.

His hips jerk as he groans, hands fisting at his sides. You continue to suck him off, tongue running the line of a vein on the underside of his shaft as your hand strokes what you can’t reach.

“So good, Y/n,” Jungkook praises, his hands slipping into your hair as he parts his legs wider. “Tae, ha-harder.”

Taehyung responds in kind, using his fingernails to scratch lightly, making the boy’s back arch. As you blink up through teary eyes, you can see the half-fond, half-aroused look on Tae’s face as he sits on the back of the couch, leaning in close enough that his chin almost reaches Jungkook’s head.

Doubling your efforts, you choose to close your eyes instead and focus on taking him deeper down your throat, swallowing when you feel his tip graze the back of it. With one hand on his base and the other gently rolling his balls, you feel him shiver helplessly, abs flexing.

The black-haired boy is delightfully vocal, and you use his melodic cries to guide you, Taehyung clearly doing the same as he tugs on Jungkook’s hair and massages his scalp. It’s no surprise to you all, then, when his moans suddenly reach a higher pitch and his thighs tense before going completely slack when he spills down the back of your throat.

You pull off him as he continues to pump out cum, the salty tang pooling on your tongue and soaking your lips, just before you swallow, you feel a hand on your shoulder and another pulling your face to the side as lips press against yours.

You let out a muffled squeak, opening your eyes briefly to see that it’s Yoongi who claims your mouth, tongue delving into your mouth and lapping up the last of Jungkook’s cum. You let your eyes flutter shut again and your jaw slacken as he licks up into you, sucking your tongue into his mouth shamelessly.

Above you, Jungkook - still panting from his orgasm - curses at the sight, his hand in your hair moving down to brush your cheek tenderly. “You two- fuck,” he swears, his voice cut off suddenly with a grunt.

You pull away and look up to see Jungkook’s neck arched back as Taehyung holds him there with two hands tugging his locks back as he claims the youngest man’s mouth. You can see glints of teeth as Taehyung nips at Jungkook’s lips, making them bloom dark pink as the camboy whimpers.

“Oh, Taehyung,” a voice calls out, and you don’t have to look over to recognise it as Jimin’s sultry timbre. “My muscles hurt, too. Won’t you give me a massage?”

Taehyung murmurs, pressing one final kiss to the corner of Jungkook’s mouth. “Sorry, Jungkookie, duty calls.”

Poor Jungkook looks like he’s been shocked awake when his head straightens up. With a drooling mouth, tangled hair and hazy eyes, he watches dumbly as Taehyung hops over him and over to Jimin, tugging him off the couch and back to the one Jungkook’s on, guiding him to get down in front of it so Taehyung can sit on the cushions.

As Jimin and Taehyung begin, Yoongi licks his lips and glances up at Jungkook. “Are you done, or do you wanna go again?”

Jungkook chokes, eyes like saucers. “Uh- y-you- I can go again.”

Yoongi raises his brow. “Do you want to?”

The camboy swallows and nods. “I want to. I want all of you.”

It’s Hoseok that comes over to join you first, combing Jungkook’s wild hair with his fingers. “What do you want from us, prince? Want to get fucked?”

Jungkook’s pupils dilate as he bites onto his lip. “Yeah, please. Will you fuck me, Seokie?”

Hoseok beams at the nickname, ruffling his hair fondly. “Can you lie down for me then? On the floor would be easiest, just on your back.”

Jungkook moves hastily with excitement, but as you give him space you can see how his neck cranes awkwardly off the floor to keep watching Hoseok. Shuffling forward, you pat his shoulder, getting him to sit up slightly so that he can rest his head on your lap. He blinks up at you with a toothy grin that you can’t help but return. “Better?” you ask, and he nods sweetly.

It doesn’t take Hoseok long to slip Jungkook’s sweats off, and he’s the first person in the room to be fully naked. Tucking his hands under his knees, he holds himself open for Hoseok, eyes widening when the dom pulls out a small travel-size bottle of lube from his pocket.

You raise your brow at him, recognising the click of the sound from the closet that morning. Hoseok shrugs. “What? Gotta be prepared.”

Jungkook laughs breathily at the quip, but it quickly morphs into a moan as Hoseok sinks a lubed-up finger inside him, straight to the knuckle. He’s softened slightly after his orgasm, but the stimulation quickly begins to plump him up again, his cock heavy on his stomach.

As Hoseok preps him, you glance up and over your shoulder. Behind you, Taehyung’s hands run over Jimin’s now-bare chest. As Jimin sighs in pleasure and arches, the masseuse’s mouth sucks an earlobe into his mouth, nipping at it and tugging at a small silver hoop that adorns it.

Yoongi watches them for a moment, before turning back to the couches, where only Jin and Namjoon remain. Calling them both over, only Jin stands up and joins you, Namjoon still too shy.

Jungkook whines prettily when Jin and Yoongi kneel beside him, caged between them and the couch. By now, Hoseok has already got three fingers inside him, thrusting them so loudly that the sound echoes in the room, the camboy squirming beneath him, fully hard again.

Wordlessly, he reaches out for the two oldest, one hand tugging at Yoongi’s jeans and his mouth falling open, tongue lolling out as he blinks up at Jin.

“Fuck, you’re a sin,” Jin curses, but hurriedly frees himself from his pants, tugging at his cock impatiently. You can barely breathe, the pressure of Jungkook’s cheek on your knee as Jin guides the tip of his dick into the boy’s awaiting mouth.

Brushing the hair back from his face, you watch those doe eyes tear up as Jin groans, hips slowly canting forward. He’s bigger than Jungkook, perhaps not longer but definitely wider, and you don’t envy how Jungkook’s jaw is going to feel after this.

Blindly, the youngest flails for Yoongi’s cock, only settling once the doctor slips his cock out and taps the length of it into Jungkook’s palm, letting him begin to jerk it lazily.

Hoseok waits until the three of them have reached their equilibrium before he begins to sink into Jungkook, keeping his cheeks spread as Jungkook holds one of his legs up and opened wide. You can tell the point that Hoseok’s cock hits his prostate as his back suddenly arches and his hand tightens on Yoongi, making the doctor hiss.

Letting out an apologetic whine, Jungkook drops his jaw wider and speeds his hand, doing his best as Hoseok steadies himself and starts fucking the youngest man.

You almost forget about those behind you until you feel an exploring pressure at your side. Turning, you see Jimin’s hand reaching out for yours. With a warm heart, you interlock your fingers quietly, and turn back. The small stolen intimacy takes your breath away, and you find yourself naturally tuning in to his songbird moans as Taehyung’s massage no doubt turns his body to jelly.

The moment you look back towards the boy in your lap with a bulging cheek and teary, euphoric eyes, you see Jin lean in. His lips join yours chastely, just a single testing kiss before he goes to draw back. Instead of letting him increase the distance, you latch onto his shirt with your free hand, pulling him in to meet your mouth again.

Even with his dick in someone else’s mouth, in the middle of the impromptu orgy - though with the way Jungkook eagerly squirms under the attention of three cocks you’re still not sure it was impromptu - Jin kisses you so sweetly.

With a thumb stroking your jaw, his plush lips claim yours with the patience of a god, every movement tender and thoughtful. It takes your breath away, makes you clench harder on Jimin’s hand and the cotton fabric in your other fist.

Jin’s mouth, the smile that stretches his lips and the moans from Jungkook’s ministrations that slip through, they make you lose track of time. No elimination, no cameras, no tears and bruises. You’re together, all-

Just as you recall Namjoon’s lack of participation, a sharp cry catches your attention, Jin and you parting to look behind.

Cross-legged in front of Jimin, Namjoon watches the younger man with wide eyes as one hand is buried in his pants, the other stretched out to wrap around Jimin’s cock.

With Taehyung rutting against his back as he massages Jimin’s scalp, the pornstar grins sleepily and licks his lips. “T-Tighter, Namjoon,” he pants, moaning again when his command is received.

With wide eyes, you watch Jimin reach down and wrap his own hand around Namjoon’s, the size difference almost comical. He guides the pace, legs parting and head tipping back into Taehyung’s hold.

Suddenly, Jin curses, and you glance back down to see Jungkook staring up at the two of you with pouty eyes, slurping more enthusiastically at Jin’s cock. Further down, Jungkook and Yoongi are helping each other out; the youngest jerks Yoongi off frantically while Yoongi thumbs at his nipples, making him squirm and let out muffled cries around Jin.

At the end, Hoseok watches you all carefully, making sure not to fuck Jungkook too harshly and risk him biting down. He plays lazily with the head of Jungkook’s cock as he gives steady thrusts, too loose to make him cum too soon but enough to keep the precum leaking onto his tensed stomach.

You feel Jin squeezing your shoulder, and you look back to see him eying you. “I could help you,” he offers, grunting as he begins to fuck Jungkook’s mouth in earnest.

Blinking in confusion, it takes you a second to realise what he’s volunteering his help for. Though the sight around you is undeniably erotic, getting to have a break while the others enjoy themselves is more than enough for you. “I’m good,” you decline with a grateful smile, eyes dipping, “though I would love to kiss you some more.”

Even as an endearing grin stretches across his face, he leans back in to claim your lips, no less sensually but certainly more needy as he gets close to orgasm. It’s addictive; feeling him groan into your mouth, teeth catching on your lips and tongue as he begins to lose his composure.

The hand you’re holding, tucked out of sight from the others, begins to tighten sporadically around your fingers, Jimin moans sounding more like pleasured breaths. As seven of you race towards orgasm, it’s him that comes first, the learned pleasure of masturbation mixed with the excitement of someone else’s hand clearly pitching him over the edge. He holds onto your hand for dear life as he rides the high, his loud moans triggering Jin, his hips stuttering and his mouth going still as he shoots his load down Jungkook’s throat.

Jungkook moans and gurgles happily, swallowing down every last drop before Jin pulls out. Mouth free, he rolls back fully onto your lap and gasps down lungfuls of air. The sudden rush of oxygen paired with stronger thrusts from Hoseok send him into a powerful orgasm.

Yoongi pauses his fucking into Jungkook’s fist as the camboy arches, eyes scrunched shut and mouth lax as he gives a loud cry. Drained from his first orgasm, his cum doesn’t shoot out like before, but pools steadily on his stomach, some of it dripping off his side onto the carpet.

Detaching Jungkook’s hand from his cock, Yoongi guides it to run over his own torso, slicked up in off-white before bringing it back. Once Jungkook begins to jerk him off in earnest with a hand covered in his own cum, Yoongi’s a goner.

As the camboy whimpers in overstimulation from Hoseok seeking his own edge, he milks Yoongi through his orgasm, painting Jungkook’s chest and stomach and mixing into the cum that’s already there.

Hoseok curses, hips stuttering, and - like some sort of chain reaction - him, Namjoon and Taehyung reach their ends one after the other. Hoseok with his cock deep inside Jungkook, Namjoon with a hand shoved in his pants and Jimin coquettishly licking the cum off his other, and Taehyung grinding against Jimin, slumping over as he cums in his pants.

In the silence that follows, the only thing you hear is the combined panting of the seven men around you, and Taehyung’s displeased groan as he shifts, a dark patch covering both his pants and the back of Jimin’s shirt.

“Holy fuck,” Hoseok breathes, “why didn’t we do that sooner?”

While some of the others express their agreement, Jungkook sits up with a self-satisfied grin, drips of cum running down to pool at the tops of his thighs. “Good job, team,” he cheers, “we should probably all go take a shower together to clean up. A long, hot shower.”

“You’re a menace,” Yoongi groans fondly. “You just came twice.”

Jungkook looks down at the cum smeared over his chest, then back up at Yoongi with an innocent blink. “Third time lucky?”

Behind you, Namjoon lets out a breathy chuckle. “I can’t turn down a shower,” he says, free from his usual shy demeanour. “But I don’t think I’m ready for a round two of that.”

Jungkook shrugs. “Understandable. Gotta let the dragon rest.”

While Namjoon sputters and then rest of you muffle your laughter, Jungkook nonchalantly stands up and shuffles into the kitchen.

You watch in disbelief as he grabs some paper towels and cleans himself up with a chipper bounce in his step. “Does anyone else feel like we got hoodwinked?”

Jimin rests his head on your shoulder with a sigh, tucking himself away. “Definitely,” he confirms. “At least if I ever want an orgy centred around me, I know how to act.”

Hoseok lets out a good-natured scoff. “You’ll be one short,” he jibes, “I wouldn’t kiss your ass if it was the last one on Earth.”

Jimin shoots him a level glare. “You haven’t earned it yet, princess.”

“Ladies, ladies, you’re both beautiful,” Jin coos smoothly, “and I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for a change of clothes and a nice movie to round out this fuckfest.”

“Ooh!” Jungkook cheeps from the kitchen, still strutting around naked like a showpony, even as his eyes glimmer in childlike enthusiasm. “Can we watch Frozen again?”

There isn’t a single person in the room that can say no.

——

“Ready?”

You grin at Yoongi, tightening your coat. “As I’ll ever be.”

Looking unbelievably sharp in a deep blue suit jacket and black wash jeans, the doctor extends his arm to you. “That doesn’t inspire confidence, but I’ll take it.”

Letting your hand curl around his arm, you make your way to the car by his side. He opens the door like a proper gentleman before slipping in on the other side. Without a moment's hesitation, his hand winds its way into yours as the driver pulls away down the driveway.

“Do I get to find out where we’re going?” you query with a gleeful smile.

“Of course,” Yoongi answers gracefully, glancing down at his phone, “in just over ten minutes.”

You groan with a pout, but you can’t help that smile from peeking out. “Good thing I’m patient.”

“Good thing you’re patient, because I’m doctor!” Yoongi grimaces the second the joke leaves his lips, shaking his head as if it left a foul taste in his mouth. “Fuck, I’m spending too much time with Jin-hyung.”

You shove him playfully. “I’ll sue you, Min Yoongi! That was shameful.”

“Shameful? A harsh critic, you are. Though I’m inclined to agree.”

There’s something hypnotic about the way the neon lights and streetlamps cast glowing patterns on Yoongi’s face as you drive through the streets of Seoul. You’re stuck at a red light now, and even the hellish shade doesn’t mar his soft smile and kind eyes. “You were really good yesterday,” you mumble without thinking.

He glances over to you as the car begins to move. “Hm? Oh, I don’t think so. But thank you.”

“You don’t?” you ask softly.

“People still got hurt,” Yoongi replies simply. He opens his mouth like he’s about to add something, but falls silent. You speak on and off for the rest of the short journey, but stay well away from yesterday’s events.

When the car pulls up on the side of the street, you glance outside. You’ve entered uptown Gangnam, parked in the drop-off zone of what looks like a very fancy restaurant. Yoongi instructing you to dress sharp suddenly made sense. “Out we get,” he says with a final squeeze of your hand, letting it go so that he can leave the car.

Once you exit the vehicle, it indicates and slips smoothly back into the flow of traffic, leaving the two of you alone on the sidewalk. Leading you into the restaurant, Yoongi looks totally at home in the upper class eatery. As you enter through a pair of gleaming glass doors edged in gold and wait in a tasteful entranceway for a server, he straightens his back and smiles in bemusement at your gobsmacked expression. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he jibes.

You gulp. “Maybe I have,” you utter under your breath, “my bank account just died.”

This is the type of place you’d only ever seen on a movie screen. The kind of place where you’d bump into Julia Roberts in the bathrooms or be served by a devastatingly handsome waiter who called you mademoiselle. Around the room, staff flitted from table to table in penguin tuxes, carting bottles of champagne and platters of lobster to the patrons, every single one dressed in labeled brands, not so much as a single lock of hair out of place in the whole room. As a smiling - and fuck, handsome - waiter approaches, you have the urge to hide your face in shame.

Yoongi just wraps an arm around your waist and leans in. “Who said you were paying?” he murmurs to you before smiling at the suited man. “Table for Min, 8pm.”

With a civil nod, the waiter flicks through a heavy leather-bound tome of bookings. “Ah, yes, Min booking for two, table thirty… seven.” He trails off, customer service smile faltering as he looks over at said table, and at the older couple that’s enjoying a glass of wine and some prosciutto at it. “Oh! Let me just…” With a hard swallow, he flicks through the book again, sucking in a breath with a concerned look. “My deepest apologies, sir, it seems like the table has been double-booked. When did you book in?”

Yoongi gives the man a strained smile. “First thing this morning.”

Your eyes lift in surprise. The waiter seems even more shocked than you, clearing his throat politely. “Uh… Forgive me, sir, but this restaurant is fully booked three to four months in advance. Who accepted your booking?”

Instead of blushing or huffing, Yoongi instead clicks his tongue at himself with an exasperated laugh. “My older brother owns the restaurant. Min Geum-jae. Must have set me up, the prick.”

You glance up at Yoongi in shock, but he doesn’t react, simply tightening his arm around your waist to keep you close.

The waiter’s eyes widen in recognition, before he coughs nervously. “Uh, I doubt that was it, sir. The Lees pay a premium to book table thirty-seven out every night. They usually come in much earlier, he probably thought it would be free by then. We can fit you in but, uh, it may be a while. They tend to pick our five-course meal.”

Yoongi runs his tongue along his teeth as he sighs. “Okay, that’s fine. We’ll go elsewhere; I appreciate your help.”

The waiter gives an apologetic bow. “I’m very sorry about the inconvenience, sir, I wish the two of you a pleasant evening.”

The air feels sharper outside, a northerly wind cutting through the fabric of your coat even as warmth radiates off Yoongi’s body. “Just our luck,” he bemoans, but you’re less than concerned about the restaurant.

“I didn’t know you had an older brother,” you chime, “certainly not a hotshot restaurant owner.”

“You never asked,” Yoongi points out, before wincing at how it sounds. “Sorry, that came off poorly. I guess it never really came up. And it would have been a cool surprise getting waited on like royalty from table thirty-fucking-seven.”

You poke him in the side playfully, grinning as he pouts. “Listen, I know a place around here that may just have a table free.”

“On such short notice?” Yoongi asks dubiously. You just grin, holding your arm out for him to take.

“We look like idiots,” Yoongi mutters petulantly for the thirtieth time.

You shrug. “Better overdressed than underdressed.”

The doctor miserably dips his Chicken McNugget in a puddle of sweet and sour sauce. “You know, half an hour ago I would have agreed with you.”

“Come on,” you cheer warmly, leaning over to steal some of his fries, yours already long gone. “We can still have a good time. We’re out away from the stresses of the villa, we’re spending some quality time together. Your Frozen Coke hasn’t even melted because the air-cons are blasting so much. Look on the bright side.”

Looking undeniably out-of-place in his expensive blazer and perfectly styled hair, Yoongi levels an accusatory chicken nugget at your face. “We could’ve gotten an Uber and gone to an actual restaurant and had something an actual chef produced. Instead, you lead me here. That’s entrapment.”

You tilt your head. “I don’t think it is,” you muse, “and besides. All due respect to your big bro, but I but his meals were way overpriced. Did you see that one lady who ordered something and the waiter set it on fire? I bet that ran her up at least sixty thousand won. Maybe even eighty.”

“That’s the thing,” Yoongi whines miserably, stuffing half a nugget in each cheek. “Jae-hyung tells the waiters not to charge me. Friends and family benefit, you know, since I don’t come visit often. You’ve actually put me more out of pocket by taking me to McDonalds. Do you know how embarrassing that is?”

You grin, reaching out to pinch his cheek. He swats at it with a disgruntled look that’s softened by his reluctant smile. “Cheer up, buttercup,” you chirp. “How about I treat you to a McFlurry, hm? The Oreo one.”

He blinks up at you with round cheeks and even rounder eyes. “That would make me feel better.”

After getting his anger out by viciously mixing the Oreo pieces with the soft serve, you and Yoongi manage to actually have a good time, joking around and feeding each other messy spoonfuls of melting dairy, feeling like two kids sneaking out after prom in your black tie attire.

It’s only once you return from discarding your trash in the bins that Yoongi sobers up, glancing over at you as you slide into the vinyl-upholstered booth. “Hey, Y/n?” he asks you softly.

“Mm?”

“I know Jin-hyung already asked you yesterday, but… Are you any closer to deciding who you vote out tomorrow?”

You flick him a pained smile. “You’re asking me this on our date?”

He furrows his brows, avoiding your gaze. “It’s just- I had such a great time tonight; even when things went wrong, you know, and… If it’s me you’re voting out, I understand, but I’d just like some warning in advance. You know.” He grimaces at the beat of silence that follows. “You don’t have to tell me, of course, it would just be easier to-”

“I don’t think it’ll be you,” you admit in a low voice. He glances up, eyes wide with surprise. “I mean, I haven’t actually decided for sure, but I don’t think I’ll pick you.” You swallow, actually feeling some relief in being able to talk candidly about it without the pressure of the other guys, or the cameras always listening in. “I really don’t know how I’m going to choose. At first, I thought I’ll just pick whoever will take it the best. Who won’t get angry or offended, you know? But then it wouldn’t be about the sex, so I try and think on it and see which of the times I had this week was the- the least best, and leave feelings out of it. But then feelings sometimes make it better. So it’s hard to pick a least best sexual interaction without those feelings. But then if I pick one honestly, with my emotions coming into play, then isn’t it just picking favourites? So I figure I should pick whoever wouldn’t feel like I was picking favourites over them, and I’m right back to where I started. I just didn’t expect the decision to be this hard.”

Yoongi listens to you intently, not saying a word until you finish with a sigh. Resting his elbows on the tabletop, he leans in with a sympathetic look. “Why don’t you run through the pros and cons? It might help talking it through.”

You take a deep breath and nod, heart warming at how much he cares. Perhaps he’s just trying to get insight on the other players, but judging how his eyes swim with emotion, you don’t think that’s the case. “Alright, well… Hoseok was first this week, so I guess I’ll start with him. Pros: he knows what he’s doing, I feel safe with him, I think he helps me push my boundaries and explore new things which is really exciting.” You count them off on your fingers as you go, mind reminiscing on both your time together with Jungkook last Monday, and the illicit closet encounter this morning. “But cons are that he never really talks to me that much, you know? Out of everyone in the house, I know the least about him. Sometimes I wonder if he actually cares about being here.”

Yoongi nods slowly, eyes glinting like he knows something you don’t, but he chooses to stay quiet and let you continue.

“Jin… pros are that he’s so passionate, he seems so mature and giving, and he has a massive-” you cut yourself off and glance around, checking for kids. Luckily at this time of night it’s mostly broke college students and tired businessmen. “Dick,” you finish with a hushed whisper, making Yoongi chuckle with a gummy grin. “And cons. He seems to play it kinda… run of the mill? Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but the most wild thing he’s done is take it outdoors, which when your prompt is poolboy, is not really negotiable.” You pause, mouth working but no sound coming out.

Yoongi seems to know exactly what’s on your mind. “And he has feelings for you,” he says softly.

“And he has feelings for me,” you repeat with a sad smile. “Which I can’t work out if it’s a good or a bad thing.”

“It’s probably a good thing if you feel the same way,” Yoongi offers.

You nod shortly. “Well. I can’t work that out either.”

The doctor shrugs. “If you can’t work it out, it’s probably a no.”

It makes sense when he puts it like that, and you hum in agreement. “I guess so. Anyways; I can’t remember who was next. I’ll do Namjoon. Pros are that he’s a fast learner, and so sweet, and once again is very well-endowed. The major con is his lack of experience. He’s cute when he’s shy, but I’ve seen glimpses of him taking control and I just wish he’d have the faith in this own abilities to be like that more.”

“Understandable. What about Jimin?”

You take a deep breath. “Jimin… Jimin is exciting and sexy and a force of nature. He’s a lot kinder than he lets people think, and I feel really comfortable around him.” Frowning, you continue to the negatives. “But he has a real temper, and a superiority complex. I know he doesn’t mean to, but he sometimes makes things uglier than they need to be.”

Yoongi lets out a low whistle. “I’m shocked and a little disappointed that you didn’t mean his ass as a pro.”

You grin. “I thought that was implied?”

“It deserves its own mention,” he insists with a wry grin, before sobering up. “Jungkook?”

You let out a low sigh. “Most of his cons are the same as Jimin’s. That competitive streak, the need to be better than everyone else. Jungkook has so much range though, he seems down for anything, and especially since the rest of you for the most part are so dommy, I really want to play around more with, you know, domming myself.”

“Domming yourself?” Yoongi asks incredulously. “I’d love to see that.”

“No-! I-” You break off with a groan, burying your face in your hands. “You know what I meant! I think it would be fun to be the one in control for a change. I just feel like more than anyone, Jungkook is so game for anything that I wanna keep playing with him.”

Yoongi nods slowly, processing everything. “Our local masseuse is lucky last, then. Unless you want to evaluate me right to my face.”

You wince. “I don’t know about that,” you deflect, “I’ll do Taehyung. Tae is… He’s so insanely affectionate, and giving, and is so ready to dote on everyone in the villa. I feel really relaxed and happy when I’m near him, and he has magical hands which I am definitely not ready to give up.” You chew on the inside of your cheek. The things you worry about with Taehyung aren’t things you can share with Yoongi. Shrugging, you avert your eyes casually. “Tae seems to take everything to heart. He wears his heart on his sleeve but I don’t know if that’s so safe for this competition. I worry about him.”

The doctor lets out a light laugh. “Worried he’ll drop you for Jimin or Jungkook?”

If only you knew. “Worried he’ll get himself hurt,” you explain instead, letting out a long breath to rid your body of the tension beginning to accumulate. “Should we head home? It’s getting late.”

Yoongi slides out of the booth. “Do you feel any closer to your decision?”

“Not at all,” you answer immediately, making him laugh, “but it was still helpful to talk it through.”

“I’ll take it,” Yoongi says with a smile. As you slide your phone out of your pocket to call an Uber, he clears his throat. “I was thinking…”

“That’s a relief.” You squeak as he shoves your shoulder playfully.

“I was thinking that we should bring the kids something. I’m sure Jin made some dinner for everyone, but I bet they’d be so happy to have some junk food for the first time in two weeks. What do you say?”

You beam up at him, at the way he tries to seem nonchalant about his acts of kindness. “I say I better add that to your list of pros.”

“Come on, we better join the queue. My con is impatience.”

As Yoongi gives Jin a call to get the orders in, and you type away in your Notes app, your heart warms at the domesticity of it. At how much you were beginning to feel together again. And from the fond grin on Yoongi’s face as he recites the lengthy order to the cashier, he feels it too.

#ficswithluv #bts smut #ot7 smut #jungkook smut #taehyung smut #jimin smut #namjoon smut #hoseok smut #yoongi smut #jin smut #yoonkook smut #hopekook smut #jinkook smut #taekook smut #vmin smut #minjoon smut #bts x reader #bts series #ot7 x reader

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crystallinecrimsonmoth · 3 years ago

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STARKER FESTIVALS SUMMER BINGO 2021 (masterpost link)

SPY AU

Tony Stark hated Peter Parker and Peter Parker hated Tony Stark. They had been at odds since Peter showed up as the newest hacker in the department, sneering at each other and complaining about the other person to whoever else would listen. Ever since their first assignment working together ended, with Tony almost dying because of Peter’s false instructions in his ear, the two had fought from other ends of the room every time they saw each other. But when Peter is sent on a field mission with Tony to hack the private servers of a major secure banking facility, their hatred turns into something a little softer as they spend the night in the same safe-house.

#starker #starkerfestivalsevents #sfsummerbingo21

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winter-spiders · 3 years ago

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why dont you ship starker anymore :(

Honestly? Because it started to remind me of when i was groomed at 15, so it just became too uncomfy for me to read certain fics and stuff, like i cant really read smut with peter and tony together anymore.

Like, im fine read smut and stuff with peter and others (Steve, bucky, sam, whoever) but with him and tony, it just makes me uncomfy now. I think its because i started reading ir0ndad stuff more often than not with him and peter so now i cant see him as anything else but his father figure

TL;DR it makes me uncomfy now, bc hes like his dad not his bf

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spidercakes · 4 years ago

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Starker high school AU featuring fem!Omega!Tony and alpha!Peter where Tony is well known for being a real bitch to anyone who tries to court him. Peter knows better than to think he hates getting gifts.

Warning for references to domestic violence (Howard).

Peter watches Tony from across the hall trying mostly unsuccessfully to shove his stuff into his locker. He’s already in a bad mood that much is clear but when Justin Hammer walks up looking far too confident his mood appears to take a nosedive for the worst. He watches Tony turn away from trying to stuff his leather jacket into his locker to Hammer, aggression clear in his features but that doesn’t seem to deter Hammer any. Bad sign, Tony hates that but Peter leaves him to it because its almost funny to watch Tony tear his suitors to shreds and he’s mean when he gets going. Or at least it would be funny if people didn’t keep disrespecting Tony’s very clear and well known boundaries and if Tony didn’t sometimes go a little far in his vicious takedowns.

But he doesn’t really like Justin Hammer that much and neither does Tony, he’s not shy about saying it. So when he holds out a box Peter knows he’s about to go ape on this guy. MJ walks up beside him and shakes her head, “one, stop fantasizing about being the only one to tame that beast. He’s a privileged brat, get better taste. Two, privileged brat or not he’s preferable to Hammer so I want to see this,” she says, looking satisfied as Tony glares Hammer down.

“He’s not a brat,” Peter tells her, “he just doesn’t like jewelry and no one seems to get the point.” Or at least he’s pretty sure that’s what that is anyway but its hard to tell because omegas almost never get stuff that isn’t jewelry. Peter doesn’t get why that is when he’s never actually seen an omega wear any of it. Mostly they range from irate like Tony about it to mildly uncomfortable and unsure what to do with expensive things they don’t want like Liz. Either way Peter thinks its about time someone actually paid attention to what their crushes like and give them something that’s not stupid expensive that they might actually like. But that’s probably the fact that he’s too poor to do much more than get small things talking even if Liz agrees.

“Turn the fuck around right now,” Tony tells Hammer. MJ raises an eyebrow at him but they both agree that unwanted attention should earn a person a smack so Tony is actually being really polite right now according to those standards.

“I got you-” Hammer starts but Tony cuts him off.

“You could have Nicolas II the last Czar of Russia in that box and I couldn’t give two shits. Turn around and walk away,” Tony says.

Peter doesn’t mean to let out a sharp peel of laughter but its funny, okay? Tony turns to glare him down but softens slightly when he notices that Peter isn’t laughing at him specifically. He still turns away like he’s been stuck with a hot poker because Christ, Tony isn’t supposed to see him watching. “He’s not staring anymore,” MJ tells him helpfully so he risks looking back over.

Tony is unlucky enough to have Hammer’s gift all but shoved into his grasp and oh, Tony hates that too. Peter isn’t entirely surprised when Tony makes an offended noise and walks to the nearest trash can to chuck the box into it. “For ten fucking seconds I want some time to myself to stick my jacket in my locker and you fucks can’t even give me that!” he snaps as he storms off, unconcerned with the fact that his jacket is on the ground and his locker is wide open.

“Well that was a fun way to start the day,” MJ says. “Think we’ll get more entertainment by lunch?” Given the way people seem to lust after Tony Peter wouldn’t really be surprised.

Rhodey is used to people asking him about Tony, it happens all the time and he’d never say anything. Or at least he’d never say anything to anyone Tony didn’t already approve of so he’s gotten a reputation for being as difficult and bullheaded as Tony. Neither of them have high standards so its pretty sad that people consistently fail them but it is what it is. So when a lanky looking alpha walks up to him at least having the sense to look nervous Rhodey isn’t surprised. He’s not the usual type, that goes to whoever is overconfident enough to think they’ll actually get something from Tony and this guy does not look the type if his blush is any indication.

“Um, hey. I’m Peter. Parker. Peter Parker, yeah, um. God, this is bad I’m so glad Tony doesn’t have to- here,” he says, handing Rhodey a small box. “Tell him its not jewelry.” He turns to walk away looking pretty harassed but Rhodey is curious.

“Why’d you give it to me?” he asks before Parker can run off anywhere.

He doesn’t look impressed about it but he does turn to give Rhodey his attention. “Tony doesn’t like being handed stuff, but he seems to take stuff from you and Pepper. You seemed less scary than Pepper but I think maybe I was wrong and both of you are terrifying.”

He doesn’t mean to laugh a little but its kind of funny and he gave an answer Rhodey likes. “If he doesn’t want it I’ll give it back to you at the end of the day,” he tells Peter.

Peter nods and walks away with a soft ‘thanks’ and Rhodey decides he likes that too but he won’t tell Tony about it unless he likes the gift. Not that he would have even got it if he didn’t like Peter anyway, he knows Tony well enough to know when he won’t like someone and he’d probably appreciate the help weeding them out. He doesn’t even know why people try at this point, not when Tony is so damn nasty about his day being disrupted. He doesn’t know about anyone else but if he watched a guy toss a twelve thousand dollar necklace in a pond because he didn’t like it he’d probably think that guy was an asshole and avoid him forever.

He knows better than to think Tony is the asshole here, but without context he’s go to wonder what the hell everyone else is thinking. Its not like they all know Tony is as rich as he is when he doesn’t hint at it, and they don’t know that he hates jewelry because his asshole of a father used to give his mother something sparkly after he beat her, and they definitely don’t have any boundaries, but he still wants to know what goes through their mind. He wants to know what it feels like to be so confident he thinks he can win over an omega who actively hates jewelry with jewelry. It must be some kind of adrenaline rush mixed with a Darwin Award and he wants to know.

The fact that its so common is so weird to him too, its like no one here has basic observation skills. Sometimes he pretends like he’s an anthropologist trying to figure out how the students in this school work because their behavior is so counterintuitive. Other times he texts Pepper so they can privately roast whoever Tony harshly turned down now.

By the time he gets to lunch Tony reports three more people- and there seem to be unlimited people at this school Rhodey swears- who have tried to give him gifts. None of them anything but jewelry and Rhodey can do with a little key change to his day so he pulls out that Peter Parker kid’s box. “Here,” he tells Tony, who frowns at it for a second before looking kind of hurt. It takes a second for Rhodey to catch on and when he does he wrinkles his nose, “look man, if I wanted to court you I would have and I don’t. I just can’t look at you the same way after that time I witnessed you triple yourself,” he says. “Its from some kid named Peter Parker and he says its not jewelry so I figured it was promising.”

“Do I even want to know what tripling oneself is?” Pepper asks, coming up behind Rhodey and sitting beside him.

“Shit, piss, and puke in sync,” Rhodey and Tony say together, both sounding dismayed and a little disgusted. The look on Pepper’s face tells him he should be ashamed that this is information he has.

“I can’t believe I associate with you two,” she mumbles, shaking her head at least until she spots the box sitting in front of Tony. “What’s that?” she asks.

Tony shrugs, “don’t know but he survived Rhodey so I assume he doesn’t suck.”

“As long as its not another Sunset,” Pepper says, shaking her head.

It earns a small sigh out of Tony and he picks up the box, probably looking for a subject change. He looks exhausted with it already so that’s how Rhodey knows his reaction is genuine. He pulls a scrap of paper from the box and snorts before he starts laughing, cracking up the the point of doubling over and Rhodey would like to know what’s on that paper.

Pepper has the same idea because she snatches it. “Nicholas II the last Czar of Russia?” she reads, clearly confused.

Tony is already distracted by something else in the box because he’s staring at it with a smile on his face. Rhodey beats Pepper to snatching it this time and he smiles when he reads the pin too. “That’s cute,” he says, handing it to Pepper.

“Ah! the element of surprise. I don’t get the Czar thing but Tony clearly did so that and this pin make for a clever combination,” she says. “So you know this one has brains. Just make sure he’s not the type who thinks being clever every once and awhile is a replacement for a personality.”

“Ew, don’t ruin the only good gift I’ve ever gotten,” Tony tells her, taking his pin and scrap of paper back. “The Czar thing was me insulting Hammer. God, can you guys believe he tried to give me anything? I’d rather stick my dick in a bee hive.”

Rhodey and Pepper exchange a look because there might be something here and Rhodey, for one, wants to figure out what it is.

Tony finds Peter after school and quickly learns that he’s jumpy when he all but tosses himself nearly into his locker because Tony spooked him by accident. “You’re interesting, I don’t think I’ve met you before,” he says. He’s certain he hasn’t actually and Peter’s cute, in a boyish way. And he already knows he’s not a dunce so there’s that too.

“I um, you have actually. We’ve had like three science classes and two math classes together but I um, usually sit at the back so.”

Yeah, bad excuse because that’s where he sits too but that’s sweet of him to try and give Tony a reason for not noticing his existence. “Okay, so maybe I can be a little self absorbed. Cute gift though, the element of surprise thing was kind of clever.”

It seems to take Peter a few seconds to catch on to his own joke and that’s... weird. “Oh my god, its like I’m the element of surprise! Yeah, okay, I didn’t even think of that I just thought it was kind of cute and sarcastic and you like science so...” he trails off, wincing.

Its adorable and also telling. So he did put thought into it, just not the way Tony thought and that’s actually better for him. “Think you can come up with another gift by tomorrow?” he asks in maybe a little too cocky a tone. And then he kind of thinks of the implications and winces, “I um, I don’t really want stuff I just want to know that you like, give a shit about who I am. And uh, yikes, that wasn’t an improvement. You can just forget this ever happened,” he says, for some reason feeling the need to finger gun his way out of this, passing Peter quickly as he scrambles the hell out of there.

Peter doesn’t really know if Tony likes vinyl but he definitely likes AD/DC so he leaves it in front of his locker and figures Tony will make up his mind. In the meantime he finds Liz so he can focus on something that isn’t losing his mind or passing out. “If you were a sandwich what would you be?” she asks as he walks up. Ned looks mad beside her and that’s weird because Ned never gets mad.

“I don’t know, a BLT I guess,” he says.

Liz throws her hands up, “the only correct answer is a grilled cheese, why do you guys like in anarchy?”

“Meatball sub!” Ned says, staking his claim but Peter frowns.

“Ned, a sub isn’t a sandwich yours doesn’t even qualify.”

Ned looks offended about this, “Peter, its meat in bread. That’s the exact same as a sandwich, just because the bread is shaped different doesn’t mean its not a sandwich.”

MJ chooses then to walk over so Peter pounces on it, “is a sub a sandwich, MJ?”

She squints at him like he’s stupid, “no. Why is this even a question.”

“Liz lives in denial that if we were sandwiches the best option is meatball sub,” Ned explains.

That gets him another ‘what the fuck’ look. “First of all I maintain that a sub is not a sandwich and obviously the only right answer is grilled cheese.”

Peter frowns, “why does grilled cheese count as a sandwich?”

“It has ‘sandwich’ in the name Peter- a grilled cheese sandwich,” Liz points out.

“What was his answer?” MJ asks.

“BLT,” Peter in Ned say in sync.

“Savage,” MJ accuses and frowns for a moment, leaning around him. “Oh, and he’s about to get his penance, we should probably check ourselves before we wreck ourselves,” she says, nodding at something behind Peter. He turns to find Tony walking towards him with the record he left at his locker and winces because he doesn’t want to like... get smacked with it or something equally unpleasant.

When he turns back to his friend group he finds that they’ve all abandoned him like cowards but in their defense he wishes he could abandon himself like a coward too. But unfortunately he’s him so he can’t. “Um, hey,” he says once Tony is in ear shot.

Tony grins, “AC/DC!” he says excitedly.

“Oh, yeah. You like them, and like... most eighties rock but a lot of sixties and seventies stuff too. Why are you looking at me like that, you wear a lot of band shirts,” Peter says. Like a lot of them, but enough of them are AC/DC shirts that Peter assumes he has a preference.

“Oh, right. Yeah, I guess I do. Sorry, I’m just not used to people noticing really obvious stuff about me- I, you know what. Uh, thanks,” Tony says, scattering before Peter can say anything. From across the hall he has no less than six people staring at him in shock and Peter frowns.

“What? It wasn’t hard to find something he liked.” Which is true, but he’s at least somewhat benefitted by the fact that his competition seems to think trying the same thing over and over again despite atrocious results will work.

“I gave him like, twelve things!” the one guy says and Peter rolls his eyes.

“Ten bucks says it was all jewelry,” he mumbles to himself and walks away. He doesn’t get why people keep trying to throw shiny things at Tony when he obviously doesn’t like it.

When Tony finds the box he doesn’t expect much mostly because good things don’t seem to last where he’s concerned, so he’s pleasantly surprised by its contents. “That is the ugliest scarf I have ever seen,” some alpha a couple lockers down from him says, giving the scarf a distasteful look.

Tony doesn’t remember anything about her except that he can’t stand her. “Then you clearly don’t get the reference,” he snaps, putting the scarf in his locker before he goes to class.

Rhodey raises an eyebrow at him as he walks up but he says nothing as he sits down. “What, no rant about gifts today?”

He shakes his head, “no. People seem to be picking up on the fact that Peter is doing a better job than any of them. Today I got Four’s scarf.”

“Nice,” Rhodey says, grinning and giving a nod of approval. “Now that you have a not shit suitor I feel like I can finally say that I cannot believe you threw a twelve thousand dollar necklace in a pond because you didn’t like it. You could have pawned it,” he points out.

“And get money I don’t need? Let someone else find it and cash in and I thought you hated Killian anyway.” Rhodey had been the one to warn him off not that Tony needed a warning to stay away from Killian.

“Could have donated it to charity. And I don’t, which is why I laughed when you tossed it. But damn man, twelve grand. I can’t imagine having that much money to just throw aside for a courting gift.” He shakes his head but Tony is well aware there’s more to it than that. Its not like his being on the lower end of middle class is a secret, and Tony knows that Rhodey doesn’t really believe him when he says most omegas don’t actually want jewelry. Tony is pretty sure Rhodey thinks that’s a bias on his part and it is, but only because he has an active reason to dislike jewelry, not because omegas secretly do want jewelry.

But the pressure is there and Tony knows Rhodey has avoided dating because he can’t afford that kind of thing. He figures he’ll grow out of the pressure to perform courting in a certain way but that doesn’t make things suck less for him now.

“If Killian knew anything about me he would have donated it to charity himself. And even if I didn’t hate jewelry that thing was god awful, you can’t expect me to have liked that gaudy ass thing. It looked kind of like this hideous necklace my great grandmother snuck out of Italy when she fled fascism during World War Two.”

Rhodey snorts and cracks up, shaking his head. “Okay, I will give you that it was very ugly but it was also stupid expensive.”

“I didn’t know that before it was tossed and yes, I could tell that it cost money because I know what good jewelry looks like but also I wouldn’t have paid more than ten bucks for something that hideous. Someone designed it that way on purpose and they should be fired for their sins.” And that’s before he even gets into the mess that Killian is specifically. Rude, entitled, arrogant, a mean streak a mile wide, and a total inability to not go into full meltdown mode when he’s told ‘no.’ Tony learned his lesson when he was a freshman and Killian decided to hit on him with an uncomfortable amount of aggression and then got mad when Tony agreed to meet him elsewhere to get him the hell out of his face only to not show up.

Needless to say the ensuing meltdown led to somehow deciding to win Tony back, not that he ever had him to begin with, with jewelry. It’d been the first time he’d ever been given anything and the situation resembled the cycle he’s watched his parents go through a million times so closely that he kind of lost it a little. Admittedly it wasn’t the nicest thing in the world to throw the necklace in a pond and start shrieking but he also feels like, at least in context, the reaction wasn’t totally irrational. Just mostly.

“So Four’s scarf,” Rhodey says, transitioning away from Killian thankfully. “Not a bad choice, even if you prefer Ten.”

“What are you two on about?” Pepper asks, arriving to the conversation late.

“Doctor Who,” Tony says and fills her in on the rest. She also gives a nod of approval and its almost harder to impress her than Rhodey. Rhodey only wins out because he’s grown a protective streak for Tony and Pepper has it too, but she’s a lot less likely to go ham on someone at least publicly. Usually Rhodey is good at pretending not to be an impulsive moron but there’s something about Tonys presence that makes him lose a brain cell or two and do dumb shit like get suspended for punching Killian in the face. Twice.

Peter didn’t really think Tony would actually like any of the stuff he got, minus the record because he knows Tony likes the band, but it turns out he’s actually really good at this. Tony liked the other pin he got too mostly because ‘UM confusion’ on a pin is pretty much how he feels about this whole thing and he figured Tony felt similarly. And its cute and matches the other pin.

The last thing he expects is for Tony to put the pins on his jacket and wear the scarf he got him. What he expects less than that is the sheer amount of people asking him for advice on how to court Tony seems how his efforts are working. Which is why he finds himself on the top of a table in the cafeteria kind of annoyed that he even has to do this.

“Hey. Um. Hey!” he says a little louder, drawing more attention that time. “So um. You guys keep asking me for advice on how to court Tony but you guys like... really don’t need advice on that. You guys need advice on how to follow boundaries and not harass the shit out of people. And also really, really basic observation skills. Tony doesn’t like jewelry you idiots, how did you not realize that when he kept throwing stuff out? Are you guys stupid?” he asks, fully prepared to continue on this rant when he notices a teacher beelining their way over and he sighs. “Whatever, point is if you can’t figure out how to court the omega you’d like to maybe you should take that as a sign that you don’t like them, you like what they look like. Courting someone shouldn’t be so hard that no one but me I guess figured out that Tony hates jewelry. Didn’t think he’d have to write that one down for you guys considering he throws everything he gets out,” he says, throwing his arms up before he jumps down from the table only to nearly run into Tony.

He looks pleased with himself so at least there’s that. Peter mostly tries to avoid looking at his legs in that skirt because its rude even if he looks good. “Peter Parker I think I owe you a date,” he says, grinning.

Peter blinks, shocked. “Um. What?”

Tony smiles wider, “I said I owe you a date and seems how you’ve been doing all the work so far I’ll handle it.”

“That’d be great, thanks,” he says. “I’m not great at this.”

Behind Tony Rhodey snorts, “you were better at it than the whole school and don’t have a problem with Tony taking the lead to boot. He’s probably gunna marry you.”

#starker #tony stark x peter parker #highschool au #alternate universe #omega tony stark #alpha peter parker #abo au #abo starker #starker abo

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mathstarker · 4 years ago

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Starker Mafia Boss Tony Sugar Baby Peter

When May got sick, Peter thought it was the end, finally his Parker luck which time after time brought tragedies to his life gave the last blow, there was no way that he as a poor college student would manage to pay the bills and survive with his aunt’s hospital bills added to everything.

But then he heard someone saying that sometimes the Stark family accepted sex in exchange for payments for some clients they lent money, he began considering borrowing money, surprisingly he didn’t feel bad about thinking of selling his body, it would be like being a sugar baby, except instead of an rich old man that would pamper him it would be an probably evil man that would not hesitate in killing him if he did something wrong.

So he had to think this through, one mistake and it wouldn’t be his life on the line but his aunts as well, he would need to pay the first payments until he got to know a man who would probably treat him nicely or at least understand that Peter was looking for a transaction, he would need to leave his morals behind, because he knew that whoever works for that family definitely is not a good person.

Despite all of that it was surprisingly easy for him to borrow money with the family and considering the smirks he received they probably expected him to pay with sex, Peter knew he looked like a stereotypical twink, which made him wonder if it was a coincidence that Peter heard the rumours of the family accepting sex as payment.

He had to admit it was fun seeing the confusion and disappointment on the faces of the men when he paid his first payment with money, and it was also a chance, he wanted to be their friend not their victim so it was an opportunity, he saw them joking around a man that was looking really disappointed and joined in.

They were surprised, which was probably why it went so well, but after so much planning and a few months of patience and getting to know them, he could confidently say he was friends with the debt chargers of the Stark family, especially one Tony Carbonell, apparently he didn’t usually go after clients, but since he heard rumours about someone making friends with the men he became curious.

Tony was a charming man, Peter couldn’t explain but after talking with him for a while he made his choice, Tony would be the one, he might not have been one the Debt collectors, but he was definitely in a position that would help his payments, and he definitely was interested, so he decided honesty was the path to take next.

“You know, i was curious whether you had no fear or maybe you didn’t know the rumours, so this was a nice surprise for me” Said Tony as Peter sucked his dick, both of them fully clothed, Tony sitting on the slightly beat up sofa of Peter’s apartment with only his Dick out, while Peter was kneeling in front of him.

“I could have had you sucking on my dick since the beginning, but then again if you weren’t so calculating i probably would never even looked at you, except maybe if one the guys thought you were worth sharing” He had his hand on Peter’s hair guiding his movements as he talked, despite that he was being gentle, so definitely the right choice in getting to know him first.

“Lick my balls next”

Slowly he removed Peter from his dick then guided him to his balls.

Peter obeyed, there was something about how even though he was gentle he still expected complete obedience that was making his dick hard, he just hoped Tony didn’t notice, this was supposed to be a business, so it would be weird for Peter to enjoy this so much.

But still despite Tony having probably done this with so many different boys and girls, Peter was surprised when he looked at Tony’s face and saw something more than just lust as Peter licked his balls.

And that look was enough to make Peter cum.

Tony definitely didn’t expect that and came soon after all over Peter’s face.

It was silent after a while then Tony laughed.

“looks like you really enjoyed that huh? looks like you never stop surprising me”

Peter blushed “ It’s just the way you looked at me, and the way you were acting” Peter couldn’t explain it enough and Tony looked even happier.

“but i’m still doing this for the money, not for pleasure, so i’ll try to control myself next time”

For some reason Tony looked slightly disappointed with that, but he quickly masked his face.

“Don’t worry about it, seeing you enjoy yourself so much made it better for me, so you’ll get a bonus for it”

Then there’s no problem, after that Peter quickly went to the bathroom to clean himself, and when he came back he decided to get his help with the rest of his plan.

“So now that you know my plan do you know any other guy who would treat me well and will help with the payment? I know that just sucking you won’t be enough for the monthly payment”

Only Tony did not like that, his face quickly grew angry before he looked like he had an idea.

“You won’t be sucking anyone else, how about this once a week we will meet like this, and you won’t have to pay anything, in fact since you compared this to being a sugar baby, i will pay you”

That was a surprise and much better than anything Peter expected to come from this.

“But won’t your Boss be mad at this? I mean i definitely don’t want to anger Stark, i heard a lot about him and he scares me a little, and i never heard of anyone just removing the payments, only reducing them”

Tony looked slightly conflicted before saying “Don’t worry about it, as long as he gets the money he will be happy,so i will give you the money to pay the debt collectors every month, plus at this point you know them pretty well so you probably won’t mind meeting them once a month”

There was something Tony wasn’t telling, but the situation was better than anything Peter expected so he just accepted it.

Finally after months of carefully trying to become friends with dangerous mafiosos, Peter could relax slightly, and on the next day during a class he realized that the other students were looking weirdly at him, they looked scared?

It was then that he realized that while trying to become friends with the Stark family in order to find a good man there, he became friends with a lot of the Stark family, and he didn’t hide this at all.

It probably said a lot about how desperate he was to get this payment settled that he didn’t realized how much he had desensitized himself until he saw Steve, one Stark’s men collecting money at a coffee shop, and greeted him without thinking, it was only after he received his drink and was about to leave that he realized, he didn’t pay for it, the attendant didn’t expect him to pay for it, because he was a friend of Steve, and the Stark family doesn’t need to pay on stores they protect.

They thought he was part of the Stark family.

At this point Peter might be part of the Stark family.

Despite how much Peter thought about this, he definitely didn’t think this through.

#starker

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ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 4 years ago

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Do You Even Think About It?

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Word Count: ~8.8K Notes: Sam Smith is an absolute angel and I’ve been obsessively listening to their new album Love Goes. One of my favorites on the record is Kids Again, so I gave myself the opportunity to listen to it over and over again by writing a fic based on it. This is the product. Warnings: There be angst ahead. Summary:

Peter needs a job to help pay for graduate school, so MJ hooks him up at the breakfast for dinner restaurant she works at, Stevie's. It's not his dream job, but he likes the atmosphere and the cute sous chef who's chalk full of advice.

6 years later, Peter's mind is stuck on the young love he let go and the man who changed his world.

Or: A Starker love story told in flashback and set to a Sam Smith song.

Read on AO3 here.

November 2nd, 2020

Peter should’ve known the day would be an odd one when he heard Beyoncé’s Mine to start the day. Though his mind took many detours to the thought of Tony Stark, tangible things like their song made his heart ache just a little bit more than usual. It’d been years since he heard from him, and even after all that time, he still missed him – more than he usually cared to admit. Like it was six years prior, Peter sung along to the lyrics, the ghost of youth and Tony’s touch wrapping him up and surrounding him, dragging him under the weight of precious memories.

With Tony now on the forefront of his mind, Peter mindlessly went through his getting ready routine. His school had a pretty lenient dress code, so he slipped into straight-legged black trousers and a white button down, maroon cardigan combo. Topping off the outfit with all black Chuck Taylor’s, Peter made his way out to his kitchen to heat up the water for the French press that sat in a place of honor on the counter. Another Tony Stark influence, Peter realized as he portioned off his coffee serving and pressed down the pump, the delectable smell of freshly brewing caffeine bringing a soft smile to his face.

He didn’t do anything adventurous until he met Tony all those years ago – let alone make his coffee in a fancy French press. Tony’s love of food and fancy utensils to create and serve it rubbed off on him in a lot of ways, his brown eye’s catching the well-maintained cast-iron skillet sitting on the back burner of his stove. Sucking in a deep breath, Peter forced himself to see the remnants of Tony littered around his place. They lived so much life together in those short years together. It wasn’t surprising, now that he let himself think about it, how much Tony stilled ruled so many things about his life.

They changed the world together – Peter’s world specifically. It itched, how much he yearned to be that kid again; youth brought him happiness – the understanding of that now several years too late.

Forcing himself to get his shit together, Peter gathered his messenger bag and the lunch he packed the previous night before heading out of the house. He caught up on grading over the weekend, so a later than usual arrival wouldn’t be too debilitating. His mind was so caught up on other things, he marveled at the fact that he managed to get out the door at all. Sometimes, the feeling was so consuming – sometimes, he pushed through it and coped with their song on repeat his entire drive into work.

The day went by pretty easily, for the most part. Teaching advanced physics to high school aged students wasn’t too colossal of a task – he’d been working in the same classroom for the last six years; he could probably do half of his lesson plans with his hands tied behind his back. A majority of his students were those most would deem brainy, so there wasn’t much ruckus to deal with or discipline to dish out. Instead, he let his mind stray to Tony’s dark hair and the tan of his skin after a day spent down by the ocean. He stayed in the game just long enough to get through the day – then, Peter let his thoughts run away from him.

Before he knew it, he was behind the wheel of his car heading towards the east side of the city. Tony hadn’t lived there in years, but Peter did his best to avoid it, anyway. The corners of his mind that Tony occupied seemed like enough space to give him – visiting their old haunts felt like a step too far. Until now of course, his car idled by the all too familiar sidewalk, the blue door of Tony’s home still as bright as it looked back then. Whoever took over the lease there kept it up – they would’ve been insane not to after all of the work Tony put into it.

A weird yearning sat in the pit of his stomach. As a good looking soon to be 30-year-old, it should’ve been insane to be this wrapped up in the past and all the delectable memories it held. He wasn’t social awkward and had a good head on his shoulders – there’d been many men that tried to steal his attention, even. Yet, Peter invited the presence of those memories, instead. For every not so good thing that happened, there were 20 great adventures that took its place. Despite years of distance, Peter missed Tony – missed him and the person he let himself become under the radiant affection and liveliness that Tony brought to his life.

Peter tried not to think about the prospect of turning back time, but as he sat in front of Tony’s old place, he wished for just a few minutes of those old times – some of the best days of his life. What he wouldn’t give to be a kid again, sitting in the shining sun with the most radiant man he’d ever met, even now – even years later, Tony held that title so tightly, there wasn’t room for anyone else.

Shaking his head, Peter gave the blue door a longing look – if he didn’t force himself to leave in that moment, the strength would never come. His fingers gripped the wheel tightly, the tires grinding against the curb ever so slightly. He laughed at himself, the consistency of his driving habits making his chest feel warm. Even after all those years, he still misjudged the width of the curb. The thought gripped his heart tightly – there were so many things that hadn’t changed and so many things he wished didn’t all that time ago.

In his melancholy, Peter didn’t notice the front curtain twitch, or see the door open – a slightly older Tony Stark stepping out of it with confusion written all over his face.

The ride home consisted of a few tears and the stereo of his car scratching ever so slightly with the loud volume of the song he’d been listening to non-stop all day long. Peter stopped to grab a sub from his favorite pagoda in hopes of making himself feel better, then finished the trek back to his lonely apartment – the folding of his laundry the only thing for him to look forward to when he got there.

He got one of his feet out of the car before the vibration of his phone in the cupholder stopped him. Not recognizing the number off the bat, Peter let it ring, the buzz of it against his thigh as he slipped it into his pocket. Not thinking much about it, Peter got up into his apartment, dropping his sub and keys on the counter without much thought. Then, his phone vibrated again, this time, the three-pulse rhythm told him that whoever just called left him a voicemail.

Intrigued, Peter fished the phone from his pocket, his eyes bulging when he saw Siri’s suggestion of who it was (MAYBE: Tony Stark). Taking in a deep breath, Peter set the phone down, then immediately picked it back up – his brain was running haywire and standard operating procedures were not functioning at their usual capacity.

It was almost like the universe heard his call, or understood the pain he’d been in. Why, after 6 years of no talking, texting, or communication at all, did Tony reach out now? And if he listened to the message, what would come of it? Did he really have the strength to do the right thing here? Or the wrong thing for that matter?

Almost like he was working on autopilot, Peter let his thumb navigate the phone until he was a second away from listening to Tony’s voice for the first time in what felt like forever. Anticipation raced through him, his skin tingling with nerves and excitement that he couldn’t quite tamper down. Tony Stark, after so much time. Grinning, Peter let the rest of his resolve crumble, his finger pressing the play button before he could think too hard about the whole thing.

Hey Pete,

At least, I hope this is still Peter Parker’s number. I remember you saying you hadn’t changed your number since you were a teenager and am banking on that fact. I could’ve sworn I saw your old Honda out in front of the old apartment today. I’m back in New York, for good this time, and wanted to see you. I couldn’t get out of the house fast enough to stop you, but I thought I’d reach out. I’ve missed you.

Anyway – call me back. This is my new number, so you know where to reach me.

Peter spent the next five minutes listening to the message over and over again – the cadence of his voice hadn’t changed a single bit and the slightest hint of affection that sat there was unmistakable. Tony made it seem like no time at all had passed, like it was normal to call an ex up out of the blue, like it wouldn’t change Peter’s world to hear that he missed him – that after 6 years, Peter was still on Tony’s mind.

Clutching the phone to his chest, Peter took a few long deep breaths before making a decision. His mind would never leave him alone if he didn’t take the steps laid out in front of him – if he didn’t hit the call button and see where a conversation with the love of his life could take him.

There was a slight pause before the phone rang, then a click of the call being answered on the other side of the phone. Peter waited with bated breath as Tony settled onto the other side of the line, his inhale before saying anything more than enough for Peter to spring forward into the abyss.

“Hey, Tony – “

August 2012

Walking into Stevie’s, Peter didn’t know what to expect. Being a small-town kid, the big city still seemed impenetrable, despite living there for the entirety of his college education. Though, thinking about it, he supposed that he stayed in a pretty narrow bubble during his time in school. Getting into the master’s program, Peter knew he not only needed to branch out a bit more, but also needed to make some spare change to help pay for the next two years of classes.

Which is how he found himself standing outside the small restaurant, his first shift set to start in 10 minutes. With his apron in hand, Peter took a deep breath and pulled open the door. The smell of cinnamon and something on the savory side hit his nose as he stepped inside, his chest already loosening. Comforting scents always brought down his defenses – the 20 candles that riddled his little apartment spoke to that very fact. He liked to be wrapped up in familiar things, smells included.

Taking a few more steps into the restaurant, Peter brightened up even further when he saw MJ approaching him. They met during freshman philosophy, the two of them making fun of the professor before even exchanging names. With that sort of chemistry, their struck-up friendship didn’t surprise anyone. Her decision to stay in the city and continue her education played a huge part in Peter’s plans – Nebraska wasn’t calling him home, or anything, but he didn’t want to be lonely in the city – he got his fill of that feeling during the first few months of adjustment when he first arrived.

MJ getting the waitress job couldn’t have happened at a better time, either. Though he was smart (smart enough to graduate with a double major), scholarships were few and far between, so only half of his education was getting paid for by the school. Unlike his undergraduate experience, Peter knew he needed to work, both to make money and gain experience. Stevie’s wasn’t the classroom that he belonged in, but it was a step in the right direction.

“Peter Parker – am I glad to see you,” MJ said in the way of greeting, her cheeks pulling up in a slight smile. She was a tough, sort of grungy girl, but her affection for Peter shaded her actions towards him, giving her a softer edge where Peter was concerned. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and turned him towards what could only be the employee break room. “It’s kind of slow tonight, so you’ll have lots of time and space to learn everything you need to know.”

The slightest feeling of relief washed over him when they busted through the doors and only a couple of people were scattered around the room. On any part of the weekend, Stevie’s had a line out the door. There weren’t many breakfast for dinner joints in the city and the unique combination of sweet and savory of their menu brought people from all over the city to their little corner. Before applying, Peter battled with the anxiety of being around that many people – but the good money and ability to work with MJ overran the negative feelings he almost allowed himself to manifest.

After being introduced to the few people sitting around the break room, Peter clocked in and donned the traditional black apron that all of the servers were sporting. MJ took him around, showed him how the computer system worked, and let him shadow her during a couple of orders. When things started to pick up, she sent him off on his own – she had the utmost confidence in him and told him so many times throughout his brief training. He could handle thermodynamics like it was elementary math – serving people had to be a breeze.

Quickly, Peter realized that being a waiter took a lot more skills than he initially thought. Though the computer system was easy enough to navigate, remembering what went where and who ordered what took a few tables to get used to. He played musical plates a few times before getting the hang of labeling the people at the table and putting their order by said label. By the time Peter got within an hour of his shift being over, he finally felt like he could handle himself.

While in-between tables, MJ flagged him down – her hair was a mess and there were more than a few spills on her apron. “I’m swamped with this huge party that just sat down.” She looked over at the large table, her eyes focusing in on the unruly children climbing all over the chairs. “Could you take my other table? Their food should be up soon – it shouldn’t be too much work.” Without waiting for an answer, MJ turned back to the big party, her shoulders set in what Peter knew to be her determined stance.

Using the table planogram, Peter got the table number before heading to the kitchen to grab their food – their ticket number had just popped up on the screen outside of the window. Looking over the order one more time, Peter was surprised to see a tan hand reach out to tap his fingers that were just about to wrap around the edge of the first plate. “That’s a hot plate. You’ll want to cover your hand before you pick it up.”

Somewhat shocked at the timbre of the voice talking to him, Peter took a step back from the window, his hands flying up in surrender, like he’d actually touched fire, or something. Looking up, Peter forced himself to catch his breath. The older sous chef that stood in that spot for most of his shift was gone, only to be replaced with the most gorgeous human Peter could remember seeing. His lips were framed with a gorgeous, and well kept, goatee. Honey-golden eyes watched him with intrigue, and when their eyes met, Peter got to see the most glorious smile.

A soft blush overtook his face – Peter did his best to hide the rush of it and the smile that accompanied it. Ducking his head, Peter bit into his lip, his brain desperately trying to cling to whatever words he could remember in the heart racing moment. “Uh – thanks! I’m new, so I probably would’ve burnt off my skin if you didn’t step in.”

He ached to hold his hand out between them, to see if his skin was as warm as his eyes were. Yet, he understood how much he already made a fool of himself – Peter kept his hands down by his side with a sort of resolve that shouldn’t be necessary in a situation like this.

That rich voice sounded again, this time directed solely at Peter – the man’s attention on him explicitly. “I figured as much. I’m Tony – one of the sous chefs around here. You’ll learn pretty quickly what you can and can’t pick up. Just don’t drop shit and you’ll be okay.” His words were brief and somewhat cut off, but his eyes never left Peter’s – they seemed to burn into him with every second that passed.

“Good to know. Thanks again, Tony.”

Peter used the cloth napkin he tied to his apron earlier to grab the plate – the heat barely there through the fabric. He grabbed the other plate with his free hand and was about to turn away from the kitchen when Tony spoke again.

“What’s your name, new kid?” His eyebrows were raised when Peter turned to look at him, a smirk on his face.

“I’m Peter. Peter Parker.”

Beaming, Peter turned away, his cheeks burning from excitement and a rush of heat that his short conversation with Tony brought about. He sucked in a couple of long breaths before approaching his new table, his smile now back to its normal range.

The rest of the night flew by, Peter getting lost in the last couple of tables that came in before closing time. Though, none of them ordered any food, so he didn’t have an excuse to head back to the kitchen. Despite that, Peter found himself turning towards the window he knew Tony would be standing behind, their eyes meeting every now and again. He counted himself lucky in those moments – for a few seconds, those golden eyes were stuck on him, looking at him.

After getting closed out for the night, Peter pocketed his tips, shed his apron, and stood outside the employee entrance for a few minutes, just soaking it all in. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted to be doing, but his time spent at Stevie’s would bring him one step closer to his ultimate goal, so it wouldn’t be too terrible. He made it out of the first day alive and even managed to impress both MJ and his boss. Sighing, Peter let his back rest against the wall, his tired eyes closing.

A heavy creek and the door opening brought him out of his silent reverie – he couldn’t recall how long he’d been standing there by the time he looked up. Much to his surprise, Mr. Brown Eyes himself stepped out, his long legs encased with a dark denim, his upper body still covered by the chef whites he’d been sporting earlier.

“Looks like you made it through the first night,” Tony said as nimble fingers worked at the buttons first at his collar, then down the length of his jacket. When the sides were pulled apart, Peter caught sight of a navy-blue V-neck shirt, the gap of it showing off just the right amount of dark chest hair to keep Peter’s eyes transfixed there. His breathing picked up, the same rush of heat from earlier trying to overtake him again.

“It wasn’t so bad. It seems like people are actually interested in the food we serve here, so they don’t really give much of a shit about me. As long as I don’t drop shit, I’m good.” Peter shot Tony a smile, the man’s own words sitting in the air between them. The tension in the air made his heart slam against his chest, Peter feeling slightly lightheaded in those seconds between speaking and Tony answering.

Instead of words, Peter was met with a solid laugh, the sound coming from Tony’s stomach and out of his mouth likely before he could stop it from happening. Peter watched a subtle blush bloom on Tony’s cheeks, his stubble not doing much in the way of hiding the red hue. If he wasn’t fucked before, he sure as hell was now.

“You’re a fast learner, aren’t you? I like that about you, Peter Parker.” Tony snuffed the toe of his shoe against the ground before looking up again, his eyes shining. “Want to grab a drink?”

November 3rd, 2020

Instead of the dreamy haze from the day before, Peter spent most of his day riddled with stomach-churning nerves. It seemed like a good idea, when Tony’s voice was in his ear and his presence could be felt, to meet up for coffee at their old haunt. After a day of thinking about Tony non-stop, Peter could do nothing but accept the invitation. It’d been years since he stepped foot in Stevie’s – if nothing else, the nostalgia of the trip would be worth it. Yet, Peter couldn’t stop himself from hoping – what he was hoping for, he wasn’t sure, but hope sat in the pit of his stomach, nonetheless. It made the time drag on, his lessons for once not up to his usual standards.

It must’ve been that type of day for everyone, because no one questioned or even batted an eye at his abnormal behavior. His students were a couple of weeks from Thanksgiving vacation and the will to pay attention was lacking in pretty much everyone. Grateful for that fact, Peter snuck out a few minutes before the end of the day bell. His planning for the next day was completed and there wasn’t anything else to hold his attention – he hoped no one noticed his early departure.

Though, the second he walked out of school, he was instantly at a loss. They weren’t meeting until after Tony’s shift (which just so happened to be at his very own restaurant, Peter Googled it earlier that morning). That meant he had more than an hour to kill and not a lot to distract him from what felt like a momentous meeting. There were so many things left unsaid between the two of them, so many memories that were so prominent – it was hard to separate the good from the bad – the forgettable, and those he didn’t ever want to forget.

For his own sanity, Peter put what happened between them before Tony left at the back of his mind. In the years since that day, Peter realized how childish his decision was – between not showing up and not thinking things through, there wasn’t much room for any other conclusion. The conscious thought of that didn’t take away the heartache he felt, however – Peter figured they both would be feeling a lot of that throughout the conversation they were about to have.

Left with the decision between fretting and heading back to his place for a quick spruce up, Peter drove the few miles between the school and the apartment he called home. He spent a lot of time in front of the mirror earlier that morning but knew a glance or two in his closet wouldn’t hurt the situation. He stripped out of his button up shirt and ran a washcloth across the skin of his upper arms, down across his chest, and along the length of his neck – it’d been unseasonably hot in his classroom.

Satisfied with his cleanliness, Peter walked into his meager closet, most of the clothes hanging in it ones that he purchased many years ago – there were lots of things in his life that felt like they were on pause, his wardrobe included. Sifting through them, Peter found himself smiling when he flipped by the hunter green Henley he squared away more than six years ago. The vivid way the color made Tony’s eyes stand out made his heart race – Peter still thought about those bourbon beauties on a pretty frequent basis.

Trying not to think too much of it, Peter pulled the shirt down from its hanger. Though some time past, Peter could swear the smell of Tony’s cologne still clung to the fabric. No matter how many times he ran it through the wash, the ghost of his former lover stuck around – the shirt like a tangible personification of Peter’s feelings over the years. Slipping it on felt like coming home in a way none of the other items in his closet could ever make him feel. That singular thought spoke volumes – though, Peter went out of his way to ignore the obvious. It was easier like that.

Finally satisfied with both his outfit and the time in which he had left to get to Stevie’s, Peter took a couple of deep breaths and one more quick glance in the mirror before heading back out to his car. The nerves from earlier seemed to be leveling out now that he took the time to pump himself up (being wrapped up in Tony’s shirt didn’t hurt, either). He made it through six years by himself, without the company of Tony – he could make it six more and then six more after that if things didn’t turn out the way he wanted them to after this little meeting.

With that in mind, Peter tried to decide what he actually wanted from his time with Tony – after all of these years, it seemed silly to walk into anything without at least thinking it through. More than anything, he wanted to step back into Tony’s arms like no time at all past; if they could pretend that the six years didn’t exist between then and now, he’d be perfectly alright with that. No matter how good of an idea Peter thought his decision was all that time ago, he knew that Tony, after being without him, brought something to his life that no one else could – he desperately tried to find it, but couldn’t, no matter how much effort he put in. It seemed a little outlandish, to think that their first interaction would be that magical, but he couldn’t stop himself from hoping – Peter always tried to be optimistic when the situation called for it (and this one totally did).

Despite not having visited his old stomping grounds in years, Peter’s mind remembered the way like he still travelled there on a daily basis – like the route was engrained in his brain so deeply, he couldn’t ever forget. Which made sense, after a bit of thought – some of the best memories of his youth were based around his time at Stevie’s and the people he met there. If he let himself think about it too hard, a wave of sadness would hit him; that was the opposite effect he wanted from this interaction – he wanted this blast from the past to be a happy one.

The buffer of time he originally had dwindled down to nothing as he found a meter to park in front of and fed it a few quarters. His steps were impatient as he made his way back towards the white bricked building, the flashing sign still bright and alluring.

Each second he crept a little closer to the door, his hard beat harder and harder. With just a couple more strides left until he reached the entrance, Peter looked up and his breath caught – through the window he saw Tony Stark sitting in “their” booth, his hair a little longer and his goatee just a little bit more refined, big framed glasses sitting on his nose the only noticeably new addition.

It felt like getting knocked off his feet, seeing him again. Peter stopped, just for a second – he took a long gulp of oxygen before even thinking about opening the door. Like most memories, they all came flashing back – the place, the man, even the recognizable step he almost tripped on time and time again – each one a trigger for every precious second spent in this very place.

Before he could get swept away, Peter tightened his resolve and gripped the door handle.

September 2013 – October 2014

Though Peter was determined to make the most of the situation when he first started at Stevie’s, he quickly came to realize that everything he needed in that moment existed within the orbit of that café. The year he worked there so far, Peter made more friends, learned more about people, and met (who he hoped to be) the love of his life. Each piece of the tiny little puzzle of the Stevie’s community fit so well within his life that Peter couldn’t remember ever being happier than he was.

On top of the amazing job and the people surrounding it, Peter was quickly making his way through his master’s degree – he wanted to teach people the same way his professors were relaying information to him and was only a couple steps from doing exactly that. All of the fretting and worry from the start of his program dissipated after a booming fall semester that led straight into a scholarship to cover the remaining tuition problems. Now, he felt no pressure when he walked into Stevie’s – the job wasn’t a burden, but something he thoroughly enjoyed every time he walked through the door.

Of course, one of the main reasons his time within the walls of the all-day breakfast spot remained some of his favorites was the lovely man that so quickly swept him off his feet. After that first night where they talked about anything and everything tucked away in the corner of some no-name pub, he and Tony were pretty inseparable. For a while, he thought that he might exist in the friend-zone – and some of the pieces of him would’ve been okay with that. Yet, when his back hit the wall of the alleyway where everything started and Tony’s lips descended upon his own, Peter didn’t stop himself from feeling elated and relieved; there were so many wants and needs that included Tony not being “just” his friend.

Like most relationships do, the two of them settled into a comfortable sort of adventure that was both consistent and completely random at any given time. They worked the same shift, so it was easy for them to pick one of their apartments after work and head that way together. No matter where they were, Peter ended most of his days tangled up with the sheet stealer that Tony was. They didn’t need any awkward conversations to know that whatever time they could spend together, they were going to. In the most natural way, things fell into place and made Peter deliriously happy.

It seemed like nothing could touch them, either. Being so young and in love, Peter thought he finally found a place where he belonged. After so much time being the weird nerdy kid, or the new boy, Peter got to claim a spot in a pack – one that was handpicked and made so much sense – the group of them were almost too similar and too close to one another. Or so the people on the outside said, anyway.

When the changes did start to happen, Peter tried not to let them blindside him. It started out simply – Fred, their menacing head chef, quit after a particularly hard shift; two of the newer waiters were fired on the spot after dropping countless orders. He stormed out in a huff; his only words being thrown Tony’s way as he handed over the coveted black chef jacket Peter knew his boyfriend wanted more than pretty much anything else in the world. The adjustment seemed pretty flawless – Tony picked up a couple more hours here and there, but still managed to make the trek home with Peter every time they shared a shift.

Then, things started to pick up in the restaurant because of the exciting changes Tony made to the menu. Stevie’s went from being a place only packed on the weekends, to being packed at every major service time. They were so popular in their little corner of NYC that local news crews came around to do spots on the newest menu additions and the chef behind them. Those few extra hours Tony picked up turned into many more than a few. Being the loving and proud boyfriend that he was, Peter did his best to be supportive and not balk at their time together that seemed to dwindle more and more as the days past.

Luckily, Peter found some reprieve from the nagging worry of his personal life during the last semester of his graduate program – his student teaching sent him into the wilderness of Midtown High, a school known for its advanced programs and science specification. At the beginning, it felt like a good coping mechanism – if he wasn’t at home waiting around, he didn’t have to feel the small slices of resentment starting to creep into the tiniest cracks in his heart. As things progressed, Peter caught the bug and decided that the childish things he wanted just months before were things of the past.

Despite this, Tony seemed to be just as committed to the them they created throughout their time together. In a lot of ways, both of their careers booming at the same time felt like a good thing. Both got to work where their hearts drew them, but at the end of the day, they came home to each other. From his actions, Peter knew that was enough for Tony. They weren’t staying up all night drinking and talking about whatever struck their fancy – but they were together, soaking up the joys of life with the one person that seemed to understand the drive and need for those successes and happiness.

Which is why, a couple of weeks after celebrating their two-year anniversary, Tony looked at him with the biggest smile on his face. In their time together, Peter learned the many facial expressions of his gorgeous other half. For someone so reserved with their emotions, Tony said a lot with the slightest twitch of the muscles in his face. It took Peter a second to steady himself – even after two years of being together, the genuine nature of the look still tried to knock him on his ass. Young love was sweet and soothing, but there was something to be said for the transition into something more concrete, more stable.

“That’s your excited smile. What’s up, Tones?” Peter questioned; his eyes wide with the residual excitement that seemed to be floating around the room. His chest felt a little tight with it, apprehension and secondhand adrenaline tapping against all of his major organs like shoes on hardwood.

“I got a call from Chef Barton – the world-renowned culinary instructor in Paris. He had a spot open up in his breakfast kitchen and wants me to take it.” Tony stopped then, taking an excited breath before continuing. “I want me to take it, too. And most importantly – I want you to come with me.”

His arms wrapped around Peter’s shoulders then, the grip tight, Tony’s affection only increasing with the amount of excitement running through his veins. Being tucked into Tony’s chest gave Peter the opportunity to say nothing, which is exactly what he did. Instead, he forced his arms to wrap around Tony’s hips in hopes of returning the hug with at least half of the fervor Tony used to hold him. Peter tried to melt into the embrace – but his mind was racing. Paris? Now – when he finally felt like he was making the right steps towards actually being an adult? It seemed childish to just pick everything up and run across the country, no matter how much he loved Tony and the direction they were heading.

Keeping all of those thoughts to himself, Peter kept living his life with Tony – only ever getting quiet when they started to talk about their future plans – ones that, if Tony had his way, included the two of them skipping across the country, hand-in-hand, towards the unknown. Not wanting to deal with it head on, Peter avoided the topic, and everything that went with it, like the plague. He knew Tony could feel the hesitancy, but he never brought it up, so Peter didn’t either. Why disturb the peace when he could just ignore everything that would totally obliterate it?

Peter kept that attitude until the day before they were set to leave. Still on the fence about his decision, he half-heartedly packed a bag. In the weeks leading up to their departure, Tony sent most of his own stuff ahead to the small apartment waiting for them to arrive. In his infernal need to give Peter his space and independence, Tony figured Peter would get what he needed there some way or another. It didn’t even cross his mind, Peter figured, the thought that he wouldn’t be coming with him. The lack of communication and unwillingness to step on the fine sheen of ice between them hindering any sort of progress, or reassurance that they both needed.

Like most of his life, Peter listened to his brain instead of his heart – instead of meeting Tony at the airport, he holed himself away in MJ’s apartment, despite her own qualms against it, which she voiced loudly for most of the night as his phone rang with calls, and then chimed with text after text.

It was several hours after Peter knew Tony would be in the air that he finally let himself look at all the text messages sent his way. They ranged from distraught to upset to infuriated, and then resolved. There were so many of them to sort through, but the last one was the one to really catch his eye.

Tony Stark [8/13/2014 9:53PM]: It’s okay, Pete. I get it. Just let me know that you’re alright.

According to the timestamp, Tony sent that last one a couple minutes after their flight was supposed to take off. While in the air, putting distance between them after being ruthlessly stood up, Tony was still genuinely worried about his well-being. Piles of regret deposited themselves on the expanse of his chest – the repercussions of his decision hitting him with a fervor Peter didn’t know existed. He claimed to love Tony with all of his heart but let something like fear and a lack of communication strip that all away from him. Whatever happened, he needed to own it and deal with the fall out.

Peter Parker [8/14/2014 2:00AM]: I’m sorry – I’m okay, but I just couldn’t.

Surprisingly, Peter wasn’t bombarded with calls or texts the next day, or even the next. He figured that Tony would be calling like crazy the second he touched down in Paris – yet, Peter didn’t hear a thing. After looking at his quiet phone with distaste for two full weeks, Peter pulled up Tony’s contact information with the intention of calling him, instead. His thumb hovered over the call button more than a few times over the following few days, but no matter how much he wanted to, Peter couldn’t bring himself to do it. Like ripping a band aid, maybe the breaking would be quickest with one tough yank. From the lack of calls his way, Tony must’ve figured the same thing.

Tinged with unexplainable pain, Peter made his way through the next few days, and then the next few weeks – before he knew it, it was October. He finished up his degree during the summer and once he managed to pick himself up off the floor, applied to several of the local high schools. In a strike of luck, Midtown was so stoked about his performance during his internship, they offered him a job outright – without an interview or anything of the sort. In the matter of what felt like a second, Peter went from a loved individual with a spice for life to a high school teacher, who’s only joys came in the form of a new flavored coffee in the teacher’s lounge.

It worked. It gave him stability and adulthood. Happiness would come back – he hoped, anyway.

November 3rd, 2020

It was dizzying, having Tony’s attention focused on him again. The glasses were a welcome addition to Tony’s stupidly attractive face. They magnified the color of his eyes and gave off an air of maturity – though, the AC/DC shirt that clung to his chest counteracted that a little bit. Shrugging that thought off, Peter forced himself to forget about that debilitating mindset. It already cost him Tony once – the least he could do for himself was stop it from happening a second time.

When he first walked in, Peter was surprised to see that not a lot changed over the years – there were a few new art pieces on the wall, but the bare bones were the same. Even the menus Peter spent countless hours passing out and cleaning looked exactly the same. It felt like both a blessing and a curse, being in a place that seemed so familiar and yet entirely too foreign all at the same time. As he got further into the restaurant, Peter waited for the second that Tony caught sight of him – and was not disappointed a single bit. A reserved smile slipped across the other man’s face, the slightest bit of wrinkle by his eyes the only physical mark of their time spent apart.

Peter didn’t expect the hug that was placed upon him, but before he could even think about it, Tony’s arms were around him – his grip the same tightness he held Peter’s body with during their time together. It made his heart ache; how much he missed such a simple touch – and how easily he let go of it. Ignoring how pathetic he should’ve felt, Peter returned the embrace, his own arms tightening around Tony’s as if this were his only opportunity.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” Peter heard Tony say, the whiskered lips mere millimeters from the shell of his ear as he did. “It’s good to see you, Pete.”

Unable to do anything else, Peter tucked his face a little further into Tony’s neck, his nostrils expanding with the long breath he pulled into his chest. Though the underlying smell of Dove for Men wasn’t there anymore, Peter could recognize that cologne anywhere. The olfactory association of the scent brought him to so many places all at once, each one reminding him of all the good memories and wasted time in between then and now.

“I missed you, too. I can’t believe you’re here. That you wanted to see me. Hell, that you look so damn good,” Peter said in reply as he finally tore himself away. His hands shifted to take hold of Tony’s biceps, his grip still firm, still clinging in a way that spoke of hope – hope that, when all was said and done, Tony wouldn’t walk away.

After getting his shit together, Peter took the seat next to Tony at the table – his chair a little closer than normal proximity usually called for. If Tony minded, he didn’t mention it; the man was so cool, he sipped at his warm coffee without a second of hesitation, despite the billowing steam rushing from the top.

Using the ruse of settling in, Peter took a minute to really take Tony in. His hands were still insanely sexy, fingers long and tan like the rest of him – his skin riddled with a few more nicks and cuts than before, but that was to be expected. His t-shirt fit him tightly, the sleeves highlighting the benefits of manual labor that running a kitchen called for. His coveted chef whites were hanging over the back of his chair, the crisp Stark’s on the right lapel bringing a smile to his face.

“You look amazing, Tony. Like time didn’t touch you at all.”

Tony turned towards him then, his fingers abandoning their hold on the coffee cup in front of him. “Nice of you to say. It feels like it has. Sometimes, it feels like 20 years past, instead of just 6.”

Reaching out, Peter let the tips of his fingers rest against the back of Tony’s hand, his pinky finger finding the same scar he obsessively touched whenever they held hands all that time ago. The caress pulled a shiver from them both, hazel met brown for a long second before Tony blinked and looked away.

“I thought it was just me that felt like that.”

Their conversations hit a pause after that, both of them soaking in the situation while the waitress came to take Peter’s order – his customary order of French toast and espresso rolling off his tongue before he even needed to think about it.

“It’s nice to know some things don’t ever change.” Tony looked at him, a hesitant smile on his face. “Do you still slather it in peanut butter?”

“Is it even French toast without it?”

The comment made Tony light up, his eyes twinkling with amusement, a laugh leaving his lips. “No, I guess it’s not.”

Laughter sat between them for a few minutes – their waitress came with food and coffee for Peter, her eyes lingering on them longer than necessary until her glance moved across the wall to where the old crew photos were hanging. “I knew I recognized you two. Stevie still talks about your crew like it hasn’t been years since you were last working here.” She gave them both a smile, left behind utensils, and turned away – a new sort of pep in her step.

“Do you even think about it?” Peter asked, gesturing over his shoulder in the direction of the photos, like he didn’t just ask the most complex question to ever exist. “Those times, I mean.”

Tony took another long pull of his coffee before answering, the seconds between his lips wrapping around the cup and his eyes meeting Peter’s feeling like days. He caught himself holding his breath, his subconscious tensing up for whatever blow that might come his way.

“Every day.” Tony finally answered, his tone of voice serious, the look he gave Peter whimsical. “I can’t remember a time in the last 6 years when I wasn’t thinking about this place, this city – you.”

Like magnets, their hands were drawn together – Tony let the back of his rest against the table, Peter slipping his own against it so they were palm to palm, fingers interlaced.

“Tell me how you lived without it. Did somebody change your world?”

Tony looked at him then, his eyes wide with questions, with the need to have answers to them without having to voice them, or even put them into the universe to be heard. His fingers tightened around Peter’s; their palms now pressed fully together. The contact was almost too much for the moment, their closeness on the border of being suffocating when that sort of demand sat on the table.

Sucking in a deep breath, Peter squared his shoulders, his own fingers gripping Tony’s in a small attempt at reassurance. “It was never anything like that. Someone or something else. When you told me about Paris, all I could hear was my aunt’s voice telling me that I wasn’t going to be a kid forever. That one day I’d need to grow up and, in that moment, it was too loud – too loud to ignore or fight against. I didn’t see past anything after that.”

“But didn’t that make you sad? Thinking that we’ll never be kids again? Letting something like that make all of your decisions?” Tony tilted his head to the side, eyes not leaving Peter’s for a second.

“Yes!” Peter exclaimed, the words shooting from his mouth. “I came to realize, not long after I let you go, that growing up didn’t change who I was, or what I wanted. Being with you, the feeling of child-like wonder would never go away. We were moving towards what I wanted without me even realizing it. That’s the thing that made me sad the most – knowing how silly I’d been, thinking I’d want anything other than that feeling of never coming down.”

By the time he finished talking, there were tears in his eyes – the big drops there threatening to fall with every blink. He felt warm everywhere, like if he let go of anything – Tony’s hand, the way he felt, the pent-up guilt residing within him – he just might explode.

Knowing him as well as he did, even after years of distance between them, Tony pushed his chair away from the table and closed the space between them, his arms wrapping around Peter in a bone crushing hug. The time between their past and their present narrowing down to nothing with their embrace.

“It’s okay, Pete. I got it then and I get it now. I thought about you every day, not because I was mad or hurt, but because I knew – even with so much time and space between us – that you were worth every moment, every thought, every second of pining I couldn’t stop myself from doing. Paris was great – but it wasn’t where I needed to be. No matter how hard I tried to make it home.”

Each word drove him a little closer to the edge and when Tony’s warmth finally seeped deep into his core, Peter was unable to hold himself together. Tears streamed down his face, each one trekking to his chin, only to fall down the length of his neck to stain the collar of his shirt. He clung to Tony with all that he was worth – his perception of the restaurant around him narrowing down to nothing but their booth, their connection, their skin brushing in the most intimate of ways.

When there weren’t any more tears left to cry, Peter shifted slightly, his nose brushing against Tony’s cheek with the movement. Instead of shying away like he had every right to do, Tony leaned into the caress – his cheek warm to the touch. “It’s okay, Pete. It’s okay. I missed you, too.”

There wasn’t much productivity after that. Peter pulled away completely, only to remember that he was in a public place and just had a very real, very vulnerable melt down in front of a lot of random people. His cheeks colored for a moment, but Tony was there to sooth him, his work roughened hand grasping Peter’s without hesitation. They shared a tentative smile – the light in Tony’s eyes something Peter wasn’t sure he remembered being so goddamn vivid.

They finished up pretty quickly, Peter’s embarrassment still sitting in the forefront of his mind, despite the quiet support from Tony’s presence. He laid a couple of twenties on the table, waving Tony away when he tried to add his own money.

“I cried on your shoulder – let me buy you some breakfast.”

With a laugh, Tony nodded and walked towards the door, his eyes tracking Peter’s movement as he got himself together once more – it was almost like Tony was afraid he’d disappear if he looked away, even for a second.

Out on the sidewalk, Peter started walking towards his car when Tony’s arm shot out, his fingers gripping firm biceps. “I don’t want this to be the last time I see you. I can’t go another six years.” As he spoke, Tony loosened his fingers, letting his hand rest on Peter’s hip, instead. “Please tell me I can see you again.”

Despite his hopes and the smallest bit of expectation Peter couldn’t help himself from feeling, he wasn’t expecting anything like this – an invitation for something further. Turning until he could wrap his arms around Tony’s shoulders, Peter leaned in until their foreheads were resting against each other’s, breaths shared between them. He felt Tony’s nose brush against his before their lips met in the smallest hint of a kiss -

“Any time you want, Tony. I’m not going anywhere. Never, ever, ever again.”

#starker #bobbie writes #do you even think about it #kids again #peter parker/tony stark #sometimes i write shit #nobetterlove

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