#then there’s one time I worked night shifts at HD and my sleep schedule died a painful death

[piedpiperart]

I was an opener for Home Depot once and had to be at work at 5am. Meaning I had to leave the house at 4:30 and be ready and eat breakfast all before that.

After that I couldn’t sleep in very well anymore, my body kept waking me up at 4-6 am on days I didn’t have to be anywhere so I’d get up, cook me and my roommate breakfast, do some hobbies and then go to work. It was nice.

the fact the majority of us experience rushed mornings is…cruel to say the least. mornings are meant to be calm. mornings are meant to be sweet hellos.

[starkeristheendgame]

Inspired by a prompt I am currently in progress with. Neighbours/no powers AU. A senseless, shitty drabble while my kneecap aligns.

Voyeurism and shameless smut.

Peter isn't exactly sure when his new neighbour moved in. All he knows it that somewhere in the midst of Mr. and Mrs. Goldsworthy leaving and his frantic chemistry studying, a Greek God decided some quaint little apartment in Queens was the perfect place to settle down.

Peter first saw him on a dreary Tuesday, gaze fuzzy and running on bare fumes, his brain pinging around his skull like a Windows error log. He'd lifted his gaze, desperate to see so.rthing that wasn't the chemical breakdown of ammonium thiosulphate.

For a brief moment, he'd actually thought he was hallucinating. Last time he'd raised his head the window opposite his own had been bare, naked, empty. Now, red curtains hung thick and tied aside with gold rope and tiny little metal sculptures lined the inner ledge. Behind those, a figure passed, paused, gestured, then moved on.

Peter checked the date and time on his phone.

Huh.

"Interesting" he rasped, then cringed and went to get himself a glass of water.

The next time he saw his new neighbour, he actually saw his new neighbour. One minute Peter was trying to work out if the 5th sculpture from the left was an arm or a cock, and the next a tall shape was waving at him slyly. He jolted, dragging his gaze from the vague shape to look up, and.

Oh.

New neighbour was hot. Peter didn't exactly have a HD view, but he could see broad shoulders and dark hair, a jaw sculpted by carefully groomed facial hair and dark, dark eyes.

The figure lifted a flexed arm and pointed, then pointed to the sculpture, before mouthing carefully and with great exaggeration; arm.

What was Peter supposed to do to that? He sat, blinking dumbly across at Greek God Man, who waited a few seconds before smiling at him again, and disappearing from view. Peter continued to stare, until his stomach cramped and the need for food drove him down to the kitchen.

Hot Greek God Neighbour, as he was now officially known (at least, to himself, Ned and MJ) and Peter begun a sort of odd...Presence in each other's lives. Peter spent most of his life at his desk, which was by the window for the light, and Hot Greek God Neighbour apparently spent most of his life wandering the house naked.

Well. Shirtless, or in a towel. Often in tiny tank-shirts that basically meant he was shirtless. It took Peter a while to realise that the room he had a view into was a study of sorts, or a workshop. The man could often be seen polishing or tossing tools around.

On several occasions, Peter saw actual spark showers.

Once, the man had walked in wearing nothing but a towel, and had stood at the window, talking on the phone while absently realigning the figures. Peter had tried not to stare. Really. But the guy had fitted LED bulbs and now he really did have a HD view of abs.

Hot Greek God Neighbour Guy had looked up, directly into his eyes. Peter had been so surprised that he'd stabbed his pencil down into his paper, flinching as the charcoal tip shattered. The man had simply smirked, slow and devilish, and winked at him before turning away, striding out of the room.

A month passed. Their apparent similarity for being nesting creatures meant they had yet to meet outside of staring through windows, but that was fine by Peter. Mostly. It meant that at the least, he couldn't make a fool out of himself literally face to face with him.

Peter's sleep schedule had suffered over the past few weeks, in part due to his studying and on the other hand, due to relentless dreams about stubble burn and large hands. Dark eyes and messy, dark hair. A voiceless body that pinned him down and took.

Tonight wasn't anything remotely sexy, just Peter tossing and turning like a beached fish before throwing himself upright with a frustrated whine. He was lucky in that it was a Friday night, and he could have the Saturday to mope in bed and nap.

Familiarity drew him to the window. It took him a long moment the realise the golden glow that bathed his desk was not from any of his own lights, but from the apartment opposite. When Peter looked up, he damn near died.

Hot Greek God Neighbour Guy was leaning against the window, apparently naked, and stripping his cock like a machine. He was leaning against the glass with his shoulder, head down, mouth open on a soundless moan as his fist flew over a thick, long shadow. Peter gripped at his desk with white knuckles, eyes wide and breath frozen in his lungs.

Fuck.

He should look away.

His neighbour shifted, head falling back and hips jerking forwards as he touched himself, an artful form framed by window-pane. Peter could feel his own cock give a feeble twitch, perking up the more he watched.

Fuck. He could see the vague shape of muscles. The long curve of his cock. The strands of hair that stuck in wild directions where the man tugged at it, fucking into his fist with renewed vigour.

The man turned again, facing the window, and Peter nearly killed himself on the edge of the desk as he flew downwards, but he needn't have risked it. The man didn't look up, head bowing in pleasure, palm flat against the glass. He didn't stop.

Slowly, so slowly, Peter stood. His mouth felt dry. His heart vest so fast it hurt. And yet...He couldn't look away. No amount of feeling like a dirty old pervert was gonna make him miss a second of this real life porno.

Peter's fingers flexed at his thighs, contemplating planing his own cock, when Hot Greek God Neighbour looked up.

All Peter could do this time was freeze, horror seeping into his bones. The man's hand stuttered over his cock, surprise fresh and rich on his face, before it morphed into something dark and dirty with a lewd wink. A sultry, sly, predatory smirk as he shifted, leaned closer, hand speeding up like Peter's presence was a challenge.

"Fuck" Peter announced to his empty room, and a genuine grin broke the smirk temporarily. Peter gripped at his desk so as not to touch himself, watching as the man's mouth parted in pleasure, their gazes locked as he worked himself.

Hot Greek God Neighbour shifted again, head ducking briefly before he looked up, fixed that dealthy gaze on Peter, body locking and hips shuddering into the tight embrace of his fingers as he came, intense gaze broken after a few seconds as he sunk into the pleasure, head dropping and shoulders slumping.

"Fuck" Peter repeated.

After shaking through an intense orgasm, the man sloshed gracefully against the window, head tipping to eye Peter with lazy amusement. After a pause, he raised a sticky, white-dripped hand and pointed downwards, then spread his fingers to hold aloft five with a sly smile.

Five.

Number five.

Hot Greek God Neighbour raised an eyebrow at him, hand drifting down to wrap slick fingers around his softening cock, and Peter turned to bolt for his door so quickly he slammed his knee into his desk, going down in a flurry of limbs and curses.

When he crawled back up, the man was laughing, head tossed back and fingers still wrapped around his cock.

Hot Greek God Neighbour's actual name was Tony Stark, and the up close and personal, ultra HD version of the window event was far, far better.