#I think two is already enough for today💦

[celibibratty]

Timelapse

[birthanon]

🤰2️⃣🏠🖐️🏳️🦵🐢💦

+bad positions (i don’t have the emoji)

For the build a birth game/prompt

Yay my first emoji prompt! Thanks for this, I had fun with it. I don't really do orgasmic births as I said when I reposted this, but I did try to have at least one more pleasurable moment. I hope that fits your ask well enough.

Summary: to earn money for her twins, a woman and her husband stream the birth with a twist, every twenty minutes she has to switch to a different position decided beforehand by the viewers! Contains: fpreg, willing birth denial, pushing the baby back in, a straight couple, streamed birth.

Rebbecah gasped for breath as her latest contraction eased, then sat up slightly on her bed so she could get a better look at her husband, Drew, as he fiddled with camera equipment. 

“You better be ready with that equipment,” she gasped. “‘Cause the baby’s coming.”

“Just a moment,” Drew said. 

Another contraction struck, and Rebbecah moaned, pressing her legs together to try and forestall the massive head that was shifting deep inside her. Still it moved, the pressure on her cervix increasing just slightly.

“There we go.” Drew stepped away from the video camera, which was blinking red. The computer next to it showed what the camera was seeing, Rebbecah sitting on the edge of the bed—her long brown hair tied up in ponytail that had seen better days, her face red with exertion and covered in sweat, the tight red dress she wore, which clung to her enlarged chest and her massive torpedo stomach. The amount of live views was already up to nearly thirty people despite having just started, and was continuing to tick up.

“Hello everyone, welcome to our live birth stream. For those who are new, I’m Drew and this is Rebbecah, as she’s been in labor with our twins since last night. Her water broke an hour ago, and I’ve just confirmed she’s ten centimeters dilated and ready to push! We’ve asked for suggestions for birthing positions, and I’ve gone ahead and picked three per child. The way this is going to work is I’ll call out a birthing position and help Rebbecah get into it, she’ll then have to hold that position for twenty minutes. After which, she can get into any position she wants to finish birthing the child. Think you can do this, Rebbecah?”

It had seemed like a really good idea yesterday, now, already exhausted from hours of labor, Rebbecah was slightly less sure. But this was for her husband, for her fans, and more importantly, to raise money for her children. When they’d budgeted having a kid, they hadn’t planned on two after all.  “Yes,” Rebbecah confirmed.

Drew grinned at her, a large, brilliant smile. “Good, good, and you remember our safe word?”

“Turtle.”

“That’s right. We want to have some fun, but we value your safety and the baby’s safety first. Use it if you need to.” Then Drew turned to the camera again. “As a reminder, all proceeds we get today will go into a college saving fund for the babies. Let’s start with our first position—lotus.”

Rebbecah slowly shifted her weight to the side of the bed and spread her legs, allowing her long, heavy stomach to sink between them.  Then, slowly she rose. Gravity shifted, pulling the baby further down, and she gasped at the sheer weight of the baby’s massive head in her hips. She began to squat down, triggering a contraction, and she couldn’t help but push. The head moved, stretching her, creeping down. So full. She moaned. The contraction eased. 

With Drew’s help, she carefully sat down on the ground. The hard tile floor of their playroom pressed harshly against her overly sensitive crotch as she sat. Then she shifted back so she could cross her legs, and it was a little better. On the plus side, her pussy was not touching the hard floor. Her stomach, low with birth, was, however, resting inside her lap. Everything felt scrunched up. She couldn’t lean back in this position, though her body demanded it. 

“This is good,” Drew said. “Now rest your hands on your knees like you are meditating, and we’ll start the timer.”

That would require shifting her weight from her hands to her legs, moving everything forward even more. It seemed an awful idea, but this had originally been her idea, so she complied. Contractions lasted for about one minute, breaks lasted for about two. She only had to hold this position for about six contractions. She could do that. 

The first contraction came, and she curled up around her stomach, her hands slipping from her knees to hold the firm, contracting orb. She pushed, and gravity helped. The head moved down, still, so deep in her. It eased. She returned to her position, breathing deeply, and making ��om” sounds for her audience. 

The next contraction struck, and she pushed through that one, curled around herself. By her third, she was soaked in sweat, her dress stuck to her, tugging at her. Everything felt tight. She needed to lean back, to spread her legs fully, to give herself more space. She needed to escape, claustrophobia making it hard to breathe.

“Please,” she gasped to Drew as the contraction died down. “The dress. Take it off.” 

“All right,” Drew said. “We’re just under half way through our first position, and we’re going to pause real quick for a wardrobe change.”

He knelt by her, warm hands brushing her thighs as he helped shimmy the fabric out from underneath her butt. Then she held her hands over her head and he pulled it off. She felt instantly better. Then, under her direction, he removed her large, black lacy bra, leaving her completely naked. He resumed his station by the phone timer, and she placed her hands back on her knees.

She looked up at the computer facing her and grinned at what she saw. She sat cross legged, hands resting on her knees, her stomach filling her lap, her large breasts hanging down on top of her stomach. Though she was clearly exhausted, she seemed to glow, like some sort of fertility goddess, a mother buddha. 

Then her fourth contraction struck, she watched her stomach visibly sink into herself with the force of her muscles, before she closed her eyes and gave in to her body’s demands, pushing. 

She reached her sixth, gasping, sore and eager to move again, waiting eagerly for the timer to go off, but because of the pause to change clothes, a seven struck while she was still lotusing. She groaned, curling into herself. There was so much pressure, the help of gravity, but her legs weren’t spread enough, there wasn’t enough room.

“And that’s time,” Drew announced, and Rebbecah smiled, satisfied she finished the first twenty minutes and made progress. She spread her legs in relief, stretching them, and grinned as she caught sight of her bulging pussy on the computer, hinting at the size of the head waiting just inside her lips.

“Looks like she made good progress,” Drew commented. “Your next position is hands and knees.”

Rebbacah smiled in relief, and with Drews help, managed to get into the position, her forcefully spread legs making it rather difficult to move. She couldn’t see her progress, but she could see her stomach, hanging down beneath her, nearly touching the ground. This was a far better position, and she was eager to make progress in the next twenty minutes.

The first contraction came, and the difference was immediate, there was far more space, and the baby moved forward, stretching her lips for the first time. She gasped at the sting and stopped pushing for a moment, surprised. Then her body’s demand to push took over, and push she did. The stinging sensation grew. “It’s coming,” she gasped between pushes, “it’s coming!” Then the contraction eased, and the baby slid back. Rebbecah groaned, panting for breath.

The next twenty minutes passed relatively quickly, the head slipping out just a bit more with each push, stretching Rebbecah in ways she’d never been stretched before, and then sinking back into her when she stopped pushing. By the time Drew called time, the head had just begun to stay, a messy bit of dark hair peeking out between her pale, stretched lips.

“I think we’re just about reaching a full crown,” Drew announced. “Wonderful job my dear, are you ready for the third position?”

Her knees were sore, so Rebbecah nodded, distracted by the stretching that was happening down below. Balancing on one hand she reached out with the other, awkwardly around her large bump until she could cradle her child’s head. She whimpered when she accidentally bumped it, sending shooting pains through her body, but smiled as she cupped the emerging head gently in her hand. She was so distracted she didn’t quite process the next position Drew had announced. “Sorry?” she asked.

“Handstand,” Drew repeated. “In the interest of safety, I’ll help you up each time you have a contraction, then once it eases you can go back down into a resting position.”

Rebbecah paled. The baby was right there. “No,” she whispered. “I can’t.”

“Are you going to use your safe word?” Drew asked.

Rebbecah played with the hair on her emerging child’s head, then glanced at the viewer count and the amount raised. They needed more. “No,” she said. “Let’s do this.”

Drew tried to help her stand, but she only got about halfway up before her hips protested. She couldn’t do that. Instead, she crawled to the wall, her baby’s head sticking out of her pussy the whole way, rested her head on the pillow Drew had placed for her, and waited.

“Contraction,” she said as her stomach began to tense. Then she kicked, awkwardly, weakly, off the floor. Drew caught her legs,  and pulled them all the way up.

Her legs got forced together in the process, the gravity shifting, and her baby sunk back into her despite the force of the contraction. Rebbecah screamed in pain as her baby kicked in protest. She wanted to reach up and caress her stomach, but she was using her hands to support herself. Her breasts had fallen in her face, dripping sweat and milk across her cheeks.  The agony continued on, the blood rushing to her head, the weight of her over-stretched womb pressing on her lungs. Forget sixty seconds, or even two minutes, it seemed to go on forever. Then, finally, her stomach eased, and Drew helped her feet down, until she curled in a ball around her stomach, panting.

The pain in her crotch had eased. All the progress she’d made in the last twenty minutes erased during a single contraction. She could still feel her baby between her hips, right behind her lips, filling her. Five more, she told herself. 

The baby eased back down between contractions, settling against her lips again. Then her stomach began tightening, shrinking away from her arms and thighs, and Rebbecah gathered herself and kicked off the ground once more. Drew, ever faithful, caught her legs and got her the rest of the way up.

She’d thought this one would be less bad, since she’d already lost her progress. She was wrong. 

She could feel her baby sinking further back, into her birth canal despite her contraction. Groaning, she focused her core and tried to push against gravity. The baby stopped sinking back. She managed to keep it there, just behind her lips, pushing with all her might. As the contraction eased and she was gently brought back to the floor, she even managed to push it out a bit more, the sting of her lips spreading a welcome sensation after the lost process. She felt proud of that progress, right up until the next contraction when it sunk right back in her again..

She was barely aware of herself as he lowered her down after that contraction. As soon as she could think again, she reminded herself that she was half done, three more to go. And then the next struck. It was harder to get up. And she’d barely managed to catch her wits after it, when the next contraction hit. She lost count. Was she done? Did she have more? Her whole being yearned for the alarm. 

Another contraction, surely that had been six already? She was dizzy, exhausted, pushing against gravity just to keep the baby at her lips, then, mid-push, the alarm went off, and Drew thankfully lowered her to the ground. She immediately kept pushing, and the long forestalled baby shot forward, returning to a partial crown in moments.

“That was a tough one, Rebbecah,” Drew said, “But you did it. Now how do you want to finish this birth out?”

Remembering how right it had felt to push while squatting, she chose that, and Drew came up behind her, his warm body pressed against her, supporting her as she fell into a squat, her hips wide, the baby coming out. By the time she’d managed her position, the contraction was upon her. She pushed, grunting in effort, watching herself in the computer as the head slowly, but surely emerged. The nose was just making its exit when the contraction stopped, leaving her gasping, spread at her widest point, her legs shaking with effort and pain.

“It’s coming, one more push, love,” Drew said. 

So she pushed, and with a gush, the head popped free. Dizzy, with relief, She collapsed against Drew, staying only in her squat because he held her there, as the shoulders began to turn. She reached down, holding the head as her pains returned, and she began to slowly push out the shoulders. They were even wider, and took two contractions to get out despite her best pushing, but finally, the baby gushed out of her and began to cry.

“There’s baby number one!” Drew announced. He helped Rebbecah down until she was leaning against the bed, and went to fetch scissors and she held the baby close to her, soothing it. The two of them made the most of the refractory period, then then contractions began again.

“Time for baby number two,” Rebbecah announced, reluctantly handing her first child to Drew. She was exhausted, but the brief break and actually seeing the baby left her feeling revitalized. She could do this again. There wasn’t a position that could be worse than upside-down. “What’s my first position?”

“Tied to the wall,” Drew answered, setting the baby down in a waiting crib and gesturing to the chains which hung on their wall for their more spicy streaming sessions.

With shaking legs and Drew’s assistance, Rebbecah waddled over to the wall, where Drew attached the cuffs to her hands, then pulled the chains taunt, pulling her weight up, off her legs. Then he spread her legs apart and secured them to the wall as well in the leg cuffs. Her arms, tied together above her head, taking most of her weight and restricting her breathing, her legs forcibly spread apart. 

It was uncomfortable, but doable, her contractions came, she pushed, and the baby moved slowly but surely down. Far easier than her first baby since she had already stretched, but she was exhausted, her pushes were less powerful, and so the two forces evened each other out. Being chained to the wall like this was familiar, one of her favorite games, and it allowed her to embrace the pain. She vocalized freely, moaning with each push, feeling the baby spread her wide open, completely lost in the sensation of giving birth.

Drew, meanwhile, was also distracted, answering questions in the chat, watching his baby, and of course his beautiful wife, tied to a wall, her stomach visibility sinking into her with each contraction. She was beautiful, and it made his length ache with desire. So caught up with the sight he was, that he didn’t realize he’d forgotten to set the timer.

It wasn’t until forty minutes later, when the baby’s head began to crown, that he realized his mistake. Quickly, he set his phone to a one second timer, so it would go off. At the sound, Rebbecah’s eyes opened. She smiled, panting. “Seemed to last forever, that one,” she joked. “Baby’s pretty much already born.”

Drew smiled, awkwardly. “You are doing great my love. But you can’t give birth just yet. Still have two positions to do.”

Rebbecah eyed Drew nervously as he drew closer. He reached for her chin, turning her toward him so she could see his smile. She smiled back at him, exhausted.

“I’m so very proud of you,” he said. “You’ve done so amazing.” He leaned in, and kissed her, and she kissed him back, passionately, feeling his hands caress her belly, and then reach down lower, until one cradled her baby’s head. He pressed his lips more insistently against her, his other hand moving up to fondle her leaking breasts. She moaned into his advances, heat pooling between her legs then, with a quick jerk, he shoved her baby’s head back inside her.

She cried out, breaking off the kiss as the agony coursed through her. Her baby kicked, she couldn’t breathe with pain, yet he chased her with his mouth, capturing her lips in another kiss. He stepped away reluctantly, hand dripping with birthing fluids. 

“There now,” he gasped, pink-cheeked and clearly aroused. “You are all ready for your second position—sitting on my lap.”

He untied her, easing her back to the floor, when another contraction hit. Remembering the agony of having the baby shoved into her, Rebbecah tried not to push, and succeeded for only about ten seconds before she gave in, squating instinctively, spreading her legs, grunting with effort, feeling her baby begin to emerge once more.

Drew waited patiently for the contraction to end, then pulled her over to a soft chair before the camera. He sat down, then he eased her onto his lap, so she was facing him. Her naked, gravid stomach pressed up against his well toned abs. He’d removed his shirt at some point, though Rebbecah couldn’t remember when that happened. Then Drew’s hands caught Rebbecah’s hips. One of her legs on either side of his thigh, he pulled her down until her cunt rested directly atop his thigh, naked except his navy blue boxers. She glanced down, noticing his very prominent bulge. “Glad you’re enjoying this,” she said. 

Then a contraction hit. She instinctively used her feet for leverage to pull herself off him to give herself even an inch or so to give birth, but his hands around her waist held her still. After two contractions with zero progress, she gave up trying to escape, and instead leaned into it, grinding against his thigh, trying to chase the agony and exhaustion away with the growing warmth down there.

Each time she shifted back and forth, her stomach rubbed against Drew’s dick through his boxers. He groaned at the sensation, holding her closer and closer, as she pressed down on her thigh. The pain of the contractions was distracting, she couldn’t quite reach an orgasm before getting distracted, but the growing heat was doing something for the pain.

Drew, unfettered by contractions, leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. They were hot, moist, cloying. Enjoyable, and yet at the same time too much. But it was all too much, so Rebbecah leaned into it, pressing down harder searching for release, for something, for anything, to escape the pressing need to give birth.

The alarm went off, but Drew was caught in the moment and didn’t seem to notice, his breathing staggered.

Rebbecah pulled away, gasping. “Drew, the timer. Please. I need to give birth.”

But he chased her lost in his own ecstasy, forcing his lips on her once more. Another contraction hit, and Rebbecah could resist the urge to push no more—she did, feeling her baby press against Drew’s thigh as he finally reached his climax, his breath stuttered, and wetness bloomed across his boxers.

Her contraction was over by the time his breathing had steadied and he managed to stop the timer. Rebbecah took the opportunity to use his shoulders and stand, her legs spread over his. The baby, just behind her lips.

“The last position?” she asked desperately.

“Laying on your stomach.”

That seemed awful, but the pressure at least, would force the baby out faster. She agreed, and he helped her down to her hands and knees, then, carefully, gingerly, she lowered herself down. The force on her stomach ached, then came a contraction. She pushed and the baby jerked forward after being contained for so long. The sudden burning came as a surprise and her shaking arms gave way, dropping her down to the ground, adding to the pressure within her exponentially. With a sudden searing pain, the baby was at a full crown, and it was just the first contraction!

“That was fast,” Drew said. “We can’t have that.”

Quivering, legs spread, laying atop her massive stomach, she waited for the telltale touch of his hands on her. They brushed past her clit, playing there for a moment, then cupped her baby and shoved them in. She cried out, feeling her lips close once again over the child's head. Her vision grayed out a bit, and then she was pushing once more, and the stretching was happening, and the baby was coming out again, the pressure on her stomach was so much. Then his hands, were there again, about the push the baby back in and—

“Turtle!” Rebbecah cried. “Turtle, please. Please don’t.”

Immediately, Drew was there, helping her up, off her stomach, her baby still at a full crown stretching her wide. He helped her exhausted, shaking body back into the squat. A contraction came, she pushed, and the head inched forward. She whined. “Come out, baby, come out.”

“You are doing marvelously, love,” Drew whispered, running hand through her hair. “I am so proud. You are so strong.”

The next contraction came, she pushed again, for a full minute and a half, the baby’s head bobbed in her cunt, unmoving, her stretched, red lips glistening. Then finally, at the next contraction, something shifted, and the head shot out. Her legs gave out at the shock, and Drew eased her gently backwards so she was leaning against him as the shoulders twisted, and then, finally emerged, crying. “We did it,” Rebbecah gasped, smiling, tears streaking her eyes. Then she looked up at the amount of money they’d made. “Wow,” she gasped. “We really did do it. I think we could even afford to have some more.”

[hazelfoureyes]

Coven: @fraugwinska @minkdelovely @sugoi-writes @macabr3-barbi3 @synamartia (banners by Syn!)

Masterlist for Kinktober (Thank you Syn!)

Kinktober 2024 - Day 25ish - Role Reversal

Val fucks up Angel’s filming so Angel fucks Val’s top.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷

「warnings/promises: TopAngel x BottomVox, first time anal for Mr. V, Praise kink, safe sex. Insults to Val, filming the deed, ruining suits」

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷

MDNI 📸 🍑

HUNGOVER, SORRY! NOT COMING. 💋

Vox and Angel got the same text at the same time, looking down at the sound of the ding to see Valentino’s message. It was paired with a photo of him in a strange bed, someone’s head on his chest while he blew a kiss to the screen. 

“Val,” Vox groaned, hand swiping down his screen as Angel just sighed and let his body fall into the back of the elevator. 

A second ding, both men looking in tandem.

IN TO WORK. 💦 😜

“You got that too? Why does he always gotta do this shit?” Angel’s fist hit the metal in frustration. “Bad enough he’s not comin’, I don’t gotta see his latest victim.”

“Hey, at least you get a day off. I have to handle his shit and mine now.” Every time one of the Vees didn’t show up for work, he got the raw end of the deal. Val was the worst at it, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating.

“But I actually wanted to work today! He fuckin’ promised me I could film my first toppin’ shoot. He’s done this crap like, five times already.” Angel whined. Val continually held over his head the opportunity to star in a role where he wasn’t on his knees or wobbling home after. Every single time he was scheduled to film his first top role, Val ended up either a no-show or suddenly deciding he needed a change of plans. “Last time he said he said the vibes were off so I couldn’t shoot.”

“Yeah well, I don’t know what to tell you. That’s Val. Always fucking people over.” Vox closed the messenger and opened Slack. Angel watched Vox’s blue nails tap rapidly on the screen. 

“You don’t seem too peeved.” He mused.

“You get used to it. Getting angry won’t make the work easier.” Vox let out a tired sigh, the lines under his eyes multiplying with little glitches to his face. “Not that I wouldn’t love to give him a taste of his own medicine. Just like, not show up for work one day and see how he fucking handles it.” Phone pocketed, he looked over to see Angel grinning down at him. “What?”

“Someone should give him a taste of his own medicine.” Angel leaned into Vox’s shoulder, arm coming to slip behind his back, “Doncha think?” 

Angel had decided in that moment he was going to fuck that television.

Vox audibly gulped, “I was just bitching. I don’t think Val would even notice if I didn’t show up to work.”

“Probably not. But,” the elevator opened to the studio and one of Angel’s famously long legs jutted forward to stop it from closing, “maybe it’d do him some good to get a similar kinda text. I mean, he left you to do his work. And left me to film... Technically,” Vox’s blue face began a soft pink glow as Angel’s hand came to rest on his ass. With a devious chuckle he pulled his foot back in and let the doors close, “We got all we need right here to get the job done.”

When Vox could only choke on his own spit and wave his arms around looking for a response, Angel took the opportunity to turn him around and press him into the far wall. “Alls I’m sayin’ is, wouldn’t it be funny?” Two hands angled the media mogul’s screen up to meet his eyes, “Just put your little key in that there slot and take us up to your penthouse. Snap a few pics from bed, tell him no worries we got it handled here.” Angel practically sang the suggestion.

Vox dabbed at his casing, sweat dripping down in pixels. A smirk pulled to the left as he laughed with a false confidence, “Uh, ha, he’ll kill us.”

“Oh? He can kill the big bad leader of the Vees?” Angel pulled the bow tie undone. He hummed, he was surprised it wasn’t a clip on. His sure as shit was. 

“No, not without a fight at least but-,” Vox stammered.

“Buuuut?” Angel used a slender finger to pop the top button off of Vox’s shirt. The doors opened again and Angel pressed the ‘close door’ button. “How about I put it in for you? We can just say it was all my fault.” The wiggle of his brows made Vox avert his gaze. Faux grumbling as he set the key in Angel’s waiting palm, deciding he wasn’t really agreeing to anything yet. 

The spider sinner whistled when the penthouse opened up before him. Val never let him up to Vox’s area, his apartment was in the studio space and that counted as cohabitation enough for Val’s ego.

“So,” Vox’s hands were in his pockets as he rocked back on his heels, “Just a few pictures right? To ruffle his wings?”

Without looking back at him, Angel nodded. He could already see Val seething when he got the pictures, “He’ll probably drive straight into the lobby.” He hopped down the steps into the sitting space, “again.”

“He really shouldn’t be allowed to drive.” 

“Shouldn’t be allowed to do most things he does.” It was said quietly under the star’s breath, “Where’s the bedroom? This place is massive.”

There was a hesitancy to the way Vox moved through his own home. Angel made him nervous and always had. The sinner commanded a presence no matter where he went, a talent Vox worked hard to manufacture. Yet for Angel Dust, it was effortless. Even the way he moved was entertaining. Prettier than the sharks he had downstairs, no, more akin to a glorious betta moving through it’s tank. 

“Alright let me try my hand at directing. I’m thinking you on your hands and knees, and maybe we can put the camera over here,” Angel scrambled across the round bed and pulled out his phone, setting it on the built-in bookshelf of the bed’s headboard.

“Woah now, I’m on my knees?” His eyebrow arched, “I don’t get on my knees.”

With a huff, Angel sat crossed legged in the center of the bed, “Okay? How do you normally like to take it?”

There was a long pause. Vox staring at Angel incredulously, Angel staring at Vox with an increasingly frustrated confusion.

“I don’t. I’m a top. Obviously.” Vox shined his nails on his suit lapel, suddenly noticing his bow tie was undone. Embarrassed, he pulled it off and walked to the closet to hang it up. He’d been too entranced by Angel’s teasing earlier to realize what had happened.

“Okay do you not have your ears plugged in or somethin’? I told you, I was supposed to top today. That’s the joke. We’re pretendin’ we’re filmin’ without him.” He looked at Vox like he was stupid, which Angel was quickly beginning to think was the case. He had to lean back on his hands to see the other man, neatly putting his bow tie on a rotating stand of nearly identical other bow ties. 

Vox turned his monitor away from Angel, hiding the returned pink hue burning into his screen. He had thought about it before… not being topped, but having both sets of Angel’s hands on him. Val often showed him his personal videos when he was high, Angel was always so inviting looking. But Vox was a nerd before, err, still was, but he knew how things worked, pretty people spent time with pretty people. 

And Vox had never been one of the pretty ones. He was, of course, the geek. Money brought power though and power got you nearly anything so, he wasn’t too bitter anymore. 

It was obvious he was stalling, Angel could see his hands weren’t even moving anymore. He was just standing in the corner of his walk-in closet.

“Sooo are you chicken shit or what? Come on, I don’t bite without pay so you’re safe.”

Puffing his chest with false bravado, Vox spun around and sauntered to the bed, “Chicken shit? I own this tower. I own the network we’re sending these photos through. I’m not scared.” The tiniest crack of his voice in the last word as his knees hit the bed and Angel’s body bent further back. He looked like a pin up. In life he’d never been so lucky to get a partner so picturesque.

Normally, when Vox felt envy, he would mask it with disgust. Sneering at the beautiful sinners floating around Val, grimacing when Alastor’s name popped up, rolling his eyes at the ubiquity of Carmilla’s products.

But as he settled down in front of Angel, the dirty tricks failed him. There was no envy to be had now. The star was sitting spread on his bed, wiggling his hips and instructing him.

Oh fuck Angel was talking.

Vox tuned in for just the last part, “Playin’ director is fun!”

He nodded. Angel stared.

“Val can’t see for shit and you apparently can’t hear…. Turn around, it’ll look better with me behind you.”

Vox’s mouth opened and his finger raised to argue but Angel’s strong arms turning him around caught him off guard. It was… kind of nice. To be manhandled and manipulated. 

He choked back some noise threatening to bubble up and let himself be set onto his hands and knees. When two of Angel’s hands gripped his hips and yanked him back to pressed his ass into the taller man’s crotch, his attempt at stifling the yelp made him sound like he was groaning against the friction. Angel mercifully just snorted a laugh and reached over him to adjust the phone. 

Setting the timer, Angel posed as if he’d planned it. Which he had, while Vox has been standing silently in the closet. One hand formed a V that he let his tongue protrude through, one slid down Vox’s spine, and the other two gripped his waist. 

“Look at the camera,” he said, but Vox just whined and further buried his face into his monochromatic white silk pillows. “You’re on camera all day, why are ya gettin’ all shy now?”

It was embarrassing and he couldn’t pinpoint why. He’d broadcast much more before, however this pose and this partner was making him uncharacteristically sheepish. 

“Scared of Val seein’ ya enjoy yourself?” Angel knew exactly how to push his buttons.

With a seethed “fuck off”, Vox lifted his flat face to the camera, tongue snaking out from his plasma screen.

“Yeeeees!” Angel praised, sending a little pop of electricity to Vox’s core. “Ah but you’re too close now, can’t see your body.”

Angel backed up and then again pulled Vox by the hips into him. The move made the overlord’s knees buckle.

He entirely failed to stop his moan when his ass firmly sat onto Angel’s tiny lap.

Vox’s eyes shot up to the camera, watching Angel’s image there for any sign of recognition that he had heard the offending sound.

Had Angel been smirking before? He couldn’t remember… 

Two soft hands roamed up his sides, “On second thought,” Angel had absolutely heard the wanton moan, “You’re right. This position ain’t so good. Let’s get ya on your back.”

“Uh, yeah. Okay.” Vox was uncharacteristically quiet, sitting up and then nestling himself into his bedding, knees to his chest like he’d never seen someone fucked in missionary before. He looked to Angel with a face that asked, ‘like this?’

Angel tested his new theory, “Good boy, just like that.” He watched Vox clench his eyes shut and nod. 

He never found anything particular catching about Vox, never really thought about him outside of how he fucked Val when he was so much smaller, but something about making Val’s top lie under him was getting his blood flowing.

And when he grabbed those two knees Vox had drawn in and pulled them down and apart, he found the way Vox hid his face under his hands kind of cute. 

Leaning over to take the phone, his lower stomach pressed into the other man’s, rubbing against his crotch with his own. Fiddling with the framing, he didn’t hear Vox’s muffled protests until he felt the soft space between them get harder and tighter.

“Oh,” Angel set the phone down, “Mista Vox. Is that a remote in your pocket or,”

“Shut it.” He groaned, “Just— just shut the fuck up. Take the fucking photos.”

He could. Or…

Angel sat back on his haunches and let one hand follow the outline of Vox’s growing erection through his pants. When Vox jumped, Angel pressed him back down by the chest. 

“What a great idea, it’ll be even more believable like this. I’ll get ya nice and hard and we’ll take a few more shots.” Angel leaned down close and whispered into Vox’s neck, “Can I keep goin’?”

A nervous laugh, “Yeah whatever.” His vision spun as Angel’s fingers started again, palming him through his trousers softly. Playing it cool wasn’t working when his cock was getting so hard so quickly.

When he was fully tenting his pants, hands still over his screen, Angel cooed, “There ya go.”

Vox’s lip bled, red dripping down his frame, as he bit back a satisfied whimper.

But his hands flew down and body lifted off the bed as he felt his belt being undone.

“Can’t see my handiwork on camera, the black is flattenin’ everything out.” Angel yanked Vox’s pants down, cock springing loose and bouncing against the bottom of his button up. 

Before he could protest further, as if Angel’s special skill was cutting him off, Angel’s hand stroked him twice.

Holding the phone up, hand still wrapped around his cock, Angel took several photos from between Vox’s thighs.

All the other man could do was groan and let his flat head fall back, eyes closing and focusing on the reality in front of him. The most successful pornstar in all of hell was gripping his manhood. No drugs or money necessary. 

“How many times have ya seen me naked?” Angel asked, dropping the phone to the bed and letting his fingers glide over Vox’s slit.

A sharp gasp at the sensation, “I don’t fucking know. Dozens. Hundreds.”

“Exactly. And I’ve never seen ya naked once. Seems unfair.” His hand wrapped about the base and squeezed, “Anyways, I gotchu all worked up huh?”

A rhetorical question Vox ignored, choosing instead to let his hands grip the sheets. Hips rising up to chase Angel’s touch every time his hand swiped up his shaft.

It was… nice, Angel thought. Vox was reacting like a sensitive virgin and that was endearing. Angel hadn’t handled a virgin possibly ever.

“Ya really never bottomed?” The question hung in the air. “Hey.” Angel rolled his hips against Vox’s ass.

“What?!” He snapped, eyes opening again to glare at the sinner.

“Ever? Even when ya were alive?”

Vox shook his head. Angle hummed, rolling his hips now to the motion of his hand. 

With slow and deep breaths, Vox stared at the high ceiling and let the shocks of pleasure run free throughout his system.

Val was always rushing through foreplay. Ah, not that this was foreplay! This was the main act.

Right.

This was…….it.

But it was nice to linger on hands instead of just shoving his cock in whatever hole Val offered up and fucking the discount sexed up moth man into a stupor.

“Do ya mind if I-?” Angel’s voice brought him back to hell. Angel was rubbing his cock through his tiny latex shorts, looking uncomfortable as he did so.

“Oh, yeah.” Vox sounded apologetic as he watched Angel pull himself free and begin jerking off at a catch-up rhythm. An odd tinge of something bitter bit his tongue.

He’d never been a selfish lover, if anything he took great pride in how much pleasure he got from pleasing others. What if Angel left the tower telling stories of how Vox just lied there like a dead fish?

Angel moaned when Vox leaned over and took his cock in his hand. “Mista Vox, look at you.” a sharp gasp as the other man’s hand squeezed like he had done, “So good. Fuck.”

They both felt Vox jump in reply. 

“Donchu wanna,” Angel leaned back on two arms and fucked up into Vox’s fist, “feel it from the inside?”

Vox’s lips straightened as he focused on not answering.

“Slippin’ in and out. Hitting your spot nice and fast.” His hips quickened. 

Vox watched Angel’s pink head poke in and out of his hand, sliding with the absolutely uncalled for amount of precum leaking out. Another loud gulp as his own hips began to rock in time. 

“One of these nightstands must have a condom and some lube… imagine the pictures we could send then. Ooh, the video we could take!”

Angel’s words fell on deaf ears again, Vox fixated on the sight in his hands.

Swollen head rubbing him from the inside?

And it was so warm. And Angel would surely call him a good boy. 

“Fuuuuck,” he whined, kicked his legs weakly before lying on his back and hiding behind a pillow, “Just fucking do it already!”

Angel froze, not expecting it to actually work. Clamoring to the right nightstand before Vox could change his mind, he found nothing but  rolling bullets, loose pills, and a box of rhinestones.

“Not that one, mine. Left side.” Vox could tell by the sounds it was the wrong drawer. Angel made a mental note and leaned over to the left. Neatly arranged pre-torn condoms, various individual lube packets, and several stacked cock rings on a small suction cupped anal plug were waiting. 

Another mental note before snagging a condom and two packets and returning to Vox’s ass. He pulled his pants mostly off and set to work.

“Seriously never? Like what about toys?” Angel poured the lube between Vox’s cheeks and let his fingers stop it from dripping past his hole. He needed to know how to approach this. If Vox was entirely virginal this would need a lot more patience.

Vox told the pillow his little experience with some fingers and plugs, allowing Angel to overhear it. Angel let two fingers press wide circles around Vox’s tight ring of muscle. He could work with that. Though it felt odd to be prepping someone else’s asshole for a change.

Angel’s hips shimmied, he was getting his topping part even if it wasn’t on set. There was something deeply satisfying knowing he was going to fuck Val’s …. What were they, anyway? Didn’t matter.

He pushed in one finger just to the first knuckle and let it sit there. Pulling out he repeated the action to lube up both the outside and inside of Vox’s entrance before sinking in down to his third knuckle. 

Vox didn’t mind it much, a single finger felt intruding but didn’t hurt. The pull of his hole was still a novel sensation. He squeaked into his pillow-mask when Angel crooked his finger before beginning to move it in and out. 

“Open your legs wider.”

Vox did it without thinking.

“Good boy.”

Angel watched Vox’s erection bounce against his lower stomach and smirked, he was going to be fucking with Vox for a long time with this. He withdrew his finger, gathering more lube and pushing two fingers in. Vox flinched, entrance burning slightly. Angel marveled at how strong he was gripping on just two digits. Who needed cockrings with a hole so tight? 

Unconsciously he picked up speed as he imagined himself being squeezed like that. How long could he last? Vox’s knees hitched with the pace. 

“Can ya take another finger?” One of Angel’s palms slid under Vox’s shirt and scratched its way back down. Vox nodded enthusiastically. 

Angel opened the second packet of lube and rubbed it along his length with three fingers before tentatively wiggling them back into Vox. The three were difficult but manageable, him needing to be a little firmer. 

He couldn’t get them in very far, barely halfway to the second knuckle.

It was only when Vox’s thighs began to twitch and his entrance soften did Angel withdraw his fingers and line himself up. 

“Enough of the pillow. I don’t wanna fuck a pillow. Here,” he wretched it from Vox’s grip and handed him the phone, “I want ya to film okay? Show Val how good yous can take me.”

Another wave of precum dribbled out of Vox’s now painfully excited member. He held the phone up and used the screen to watch Angel do everything he was feeling happen. Angel rolled the condom down and lined up again. 

Hot and round cockhead rubbing over his hole, catching as Angel pushed in with each pass, Vox’s hands were threatening to snap the phone in half with anticipation. Two hands gripped his blue toned thighs firmly.

“You weren’t kiddin’, huh?” Angel hissed.

Vox could only pant through the pain as he felt the widest part of Angel enter him. 

Just past the glands, he paused and let Vox adjust.

Nearly painful, Angel struggled to keep from thrusting forward. After what felt like several minutes, Vox’s body went slack and Angel continued until he bottomed out. 

Slowly he withdrew, the condom keeping him smoothed and gentle for Vox’s otherwise virgin hole. 

The camera phone caught it all, meaning Vox didn’t miss a moment of his official deflowering. But phone was dropped and abandoned when Angel immediately began a languid but deep thrusting into him. As his body rocked with the force the phone fell forward onto his chest and slid down onto the bed. 

Hands returned to the duvet to grip for stability, new and sensitive parts of him carved out with a slow determination.

The camera was still on and picked up Vox’s first unrestrained moan. The heat of the friction melted into white hot pleasure as Angel worked him open again and again. 

“You’re doing so good for me Mista Vox,” Angel’s two free hands came to rest on either side of Vox’s head as he stared down at the flat faced prince, “taking me so well. How’s your first time bottoming? Feelin’ good?”

Vox thought the question was stupid, his cock was staining his shirt with a flood of precum and every time he was bounced off Angel’s cock he moaned like a slut. 

“No need to answer, your shiny little cock is singin’ my praises,” His hand began pumping Vox’s swollen member again. “Can ya feel it? I’m deep in your guts now.”

He placed Vox’s hand over the bulge under his skin he was making as he moved his hips in tight circles.

“Fuck,” Vox thrashed under the porn star. 

“I won’t last long. You’re squeezing me so much.” The breathless way Angel spoke was quickening the tension in Vox’s core. “Be a good boy for me and cum first, yeah?”

Angel giggled at how Vox tightened around him. “Oh I am lovin’ this praise kink, you betta not be within earshot of me for awhile.” Every thrust pushed Vox harder into the soft hand around his cock. And every withdrawal swiped over his g-spot and made him buckle in. “Come on, lets fuck up that fancy suit.”

Mouth open, Vox could only string together various lewd noises as he watched Angel Dust grunt and sigh above him. 

Pretty.

Vox rushed out a warning seconds before cumming over Angel’s fist and ruining his suit. Cum was notoriously hard to get out.

His body humped up instinctively, weaker and weaker spurts coming as he followed his climax to its conclusion.

But after cumming, he found Angel’s dragging cock more and more imposing. His body was stiffer now and overly sensitive. Hyper aware of every poorly masked ridge making its way through him.

Both men regretted the latex when Angel came with a harsh and uneven pace. He drove as deeply as he could, condom expanding with his contained load. Vox whined, aware he was missing out on something. 

Angel fought the urge to fall on top of Vox, pulling out to roll beside him. As Vox picked up the phone and sent himself the evidence of their productive morning, Angel dropped the condom into the right side drawer and closed it silently.

“Send the text!,” he hopped out of the bed in search of the bathroom.

“What should I say?” Vox kicked off the pants still hanging onto one leg.

Angel mulled it over, “How about, ‘Keepin’ the schedule!’ Or whatever you’d normally say back to him. Y’all are weird, I don’t know.”

Vox hummed, typing out, ‘I’ve got it handled, take your time.’ And sent the photo of Angel jerking him off.

“Done!” Vox laughed, “He’s going to fucking kill you, Angel.” He watched the reply messages fly in, silencing the notifications.

“Angel?” He sat up, naked like Pooh Bear and glazed like a donut, and realized he was alone. Angel was already hailing a cab and fleeing back to the hotel.

Both men sighed in a long distance union, “Worth it.”

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,

@thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies

@howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @fizzled-phoenix , @star-kujo-platinum

, @a-case-of-attachment, @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl @smoky000

@hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain

@harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby

@dontfuckbutimfab @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12

[cconfusedkat]

(shaking hands, functioning on three iced coffees, not beta read we just die) (LIL BRO TREATING THIS LIKE AO3Anyways yeah i did not read anything i typed here a second time so my wording might Suck Major Kuss)

Hey chat! sorry my holiday depression unfortunately kicked in, i had a ,, relatively decent Eid (cuz i dont celebrate christmas) ...? so i hope everyone had a relatively better holiday than i did… 💦

My friends often tell me i look like my art and i kinda see it. Hooray! Meeting the artist! Except i took matters into my own hands of making my own collage because I Do Not Have Enough Storage Space For Any Other Editing App

Additional shitpost ❤️ the art I've been most proud of are not actually in here, really! I'm mainly proud of the fanart i made for the few smiling critters AU's aaaall the way back feb-march but. I guess the stuff i liked the most i did this year was probably for the one who wilts? Im trying to think of stuff earlier than that. I noticed i definitely had an improvement in art, and i learned i do have a preference of drawing certain ways now too lmao- the fun of art! I hope to improve more in 2025 :-)

Herm,, all jokes aside, im glad people like my art...?? I am not a very Secure artist myself (already taking me five minutes to type that out and consider myself as an artist) so im SHOCKED when people Actually like my things. My doodles. The sometimes rare occasion of real art i put out there. Like! Wow! Thats crazy

Id have to say the same for youtube- im currently at 456 subscribers 🥺❤️ that is huge to me,, i wouldnt have expected me posting for the first time in years on youtube would result to me getting this many subscribers? ? .???

Im very, VERY thankful for the people ive met this year through fandom and generally. Unfortunately—for the past few months—Ive hit a really low stump in my mental health that limits me from talking to people without getting super drained, even on social media i kinda struggle with being active again. I am thankful for the people that continue to stick around and know im the way that i am,, one day ill be mentally stronger and everyone is gonna see my growth as soon as i can ,, Actually leave my own home and hopefully start a new. I didnt really consider that until one of my friends shared its experiences with me and i GENUINELY realized i can run away and get better one day,, there is a light at the end of the tunnel,, there IS,, but not now. Not today. Not in a few months. Itll take me years to heal but 2025 and ongoing years as i get more freedom to do so,,

UHHHH UHHH. ASIDE FROM CHEESY RANTING OF HAVING HOPES FOR THE FUTURE, YAPYAPYAP- i got a drawing tablet (again another thing my friend inspired me for- technically two major things in a row it inspired me for- hope in the future and drawing BWAHAHA-) and uhhh. HmMMOOHHH YEAH I REUNITED MY MEOWMEOWS! HOORA🎊🎊🎊🎊

my 2025 goals are not just improvement in art,, but in hopes of getting a full time job (since my last full time UMM. did NOT work out well! How am i gonna learn to pay my taxes on my own dawg,) and trying to get a place of my own since i missed out on that two years ago (or one? One year ago? I DUNNO..!!!!) , therapy and trying to heal better compared to my terrible stumps of 2022-2024,, i dunno what else but. Maybe working on my social skills at some point 🗿🗿 a far fetched goal is moving out of state completely and also going on testosterone but that is farrrr from now </33

Thank you lot for following and keeping up with my goofiness i gen did not think an animanga nerd with a passion of indie and mascot horror games could reach 510 followers within one year HELPPP thats crazy

On less serious goals though i hope on watching more animes than reading manga in 2025 BWAHAHAGAHSAJD i read manga more and anime is Extremely Rare for me to watch but both jjk and Beastars have all ive been watching as of recent lol- trust i will be such a geek (girl Please that is NAWT something to look forward to) (YES IT IS. HAVE YOU NO WHIMSY?)

[thwip--thwip]

dick or treat

itsy🕷️bitsy: DICK or TREAT! 🍬 It's October 31st.... 🎃🎃🎃 U know what that means?? YOU GUESSED IT! 👻👻 Happy SLUT-O-WEEN.💦💦 The last day of COCKtober… 💦😫😭😭 don’t be a bore 😴 ….so make sure you DRESS 👠 like a TOTAL 💅🏻 WHORE! 🤸😈🥵 send to ♋️ HALLOWEEN HOES 👯♀️ before MIDNIGHT 🌚 CUMS or you’ll be CURSED 🌀😱 with a NO 🚫 NUT 🥜 NOVEMBER 😩😩👻

itsy🕷️bitsy: I AM SO SORRY

***

Read on AO3 or below the cut!

It takes Peter nine full seconds to realize he made an earth-shattering mistake.

The thing is, he’s a horrible victim of circumstance, not that it will make any difference to the cruel, capricious universe. He just wasn’t paying attention. Peter was brushing his teeth with one hand, copied the message from Ned with his other, and mis-clicked. ‘MJ😳❤️’ is right above ‘Mr. Stark💡’, and he was so focused on not sending it to ‘May🌷’ that he didn’t realize what his fat thumb had done.

“NO!” His gasp is agonizing and garbled around the toothpaste he’s spitting everywhere as he frantically taps at his phone, trying desperately to unsend the message. He’s panicking, and that’s not good because the app freezes and force closes, and every second counts here because you can only unsend before two minutes are up—the tick of the clock has never sounded louder, oh for the love of—

By the time Peter gets the text message open again, the worst copypasta in the world blazing at him with all of those horrible emojis, the little gray text in the corner already reads Read 8:32AM.

He’s so screwed.

***

“You WHAT?!”

Ned’s yell is loud enough that the entire homeroom turns to look at them, and Peter thumps his head down on the history textbook in front of him. Mr. Harrington doesn’t really care what they do during the morning announcements, but even he looks perturbed by Ned’s shout.

And now Ned’s hyperventilating, which isn’t really helping Peter feel better about the situation.

“You wished Iron Man a happy slutoween.” Ned hisses, and they’re really lucky there’s a Latin test today, or Connor and Alexandra sitting next to them in the back of the room would be paying more attention instead of cramming last-minute flashcards. “Did he say anything?”

“No,” Peter sinks down further in his chair, wondering if Mr. Harrington would even care if he went boneless. If he melted into the floor and just never got up. “But he read it. I’m toast, dude.”

“Oh yeah,” Ned agrees unhelpfully and far too quickly, nodding like a bobblehead. “Do you think Captain America will come to your funeral?”

Braining himself with his history book is looking more appealing by the minute.

***

“Maybe you can pretend someone stole your phone,” Ned offers, as he has been all morning, coming up with less and less plausible excuses. Peter sighs, leaning over their woodshop project, measuring out the piece of wood they were about to cut. “Or you could say you fell on it and the suggested autofill feature wrote it.”

“On what planet could autofill have done that?” Peter looks up at his friend incredulously, and Ned shrugs.

“Through God, all things are possible.” Peter’s expression gets even more bewildered, and Ned throws up his hands. “I don’t know, my lola says it a lot!”

“I think God has abandoned me,” Peter says, mournfully staring into the abyss.

***

It’s 1:46PM when Peter gets a response.

He knows because the vibration almost gives him a heart attack, as it has all day - he turned off all notifications for everything, and the only text he’s gotten all day was from May, about movie tickets for Sunday—but he pulls out his phone like it’s going to bite him, anxiety thrumming like a physical pulse under his skin.

Mr. Stark💡: Joe’s Pizza, 3:30.

“Oh God,” Peter’s sweating, he can feel it rushing over him, making him clammy. He doesn’t have a specific scenario in mind for what’s going to happen in 104 minutes and counting, but every cell in his body is yelling BAD. “Oh my God.”

“What?” MJ asks, appearing over his shoulder out of nowhere like she’s so prone doing, and she sees the text messages before he can do anything. “Oh my God, Peter.”

“I know,” Peter starts, feeling numb, but MJ is laughing, maybe harder than he’s ever seen her laugh, full tears welling in her eyes and rolling down her cheeks.

“How does this shit always,” MJ can’t get through her sentence without wheezing, still fighting through the tears. “happen to you? You’re ridiculous.”

“I know.” Peter’s hands fly into his hair, pulling at it in distress. “That’s the problem!”

***

Tony’s waiting on the roof when Peter flips up onto it, which is already weird. Mr. Stark is never on time to anything, let alone early.

“Mr. Stark, I am so sorry.” Peter starts in immediately, words coming out in a nervous rush. “It was an accident I swear—”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. reads my text messages out loud, kid.” Tony cuts to the chase, eyes are indecipherable behind his sunglasses, and his words stop Peter cold in his tracks.

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes, spiderling,” Tony raises an eyebrow, thumb hooked in his suit pocket. “Want to take a guess where I was?”

He feels like he might faint. Why couldn’t a sinkhole just open and swallow him already?

“A national security meeting.” Tony shakes his head, as if that isn’t supposed to make Peter flip out. “Congrats, kid. You definitely passed on your message to…what was it, sixty-nine ‘Halloween Hoes’? Including the Vice President of the United States of America, naturally.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. doesn’t screen them for importance?” Peter asks desperately, and Tony huffs out a breath.

“She has an algorithm to detect unusual patterns in personal messages. You know, in case it isn’t you texting?” Peter covers his face with his hands, and Tony snorts quietly. “This one was bizarre enough, it triggered her protocol.”

“If I throw myself off this roof, do you think I’d die?”

“Bold of you to assume I’m going to let you get off the hook that easily.” Tony claps a hand on Peter’s shoulder, warm through the breathable fabric of the suit. “FRI reads the emojis out loud too, you know. Longest sixty-three seconds of my life. I thought I’d seen it all, Pete, but you’ve proven me wrong once again. How the hell did you even come up with that monstrosity?”

“It’s just a thing,” Peter chokes out, and honestly he might actually pass out, the way the blood has rushed to his face. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be another color other than scarlet. “Every Halloween it just—goes around.”

“Slutoween, you mean,” Tony corrects, and Peter would really rather never hear that out of his mouth again. “I already knew you were bisexual, by the way, you have that pin on your backpack and Spidey swung at pride.”

“What?!” Peter shouts, because that’s not where he was expecting this to go, and suddenly Tony is the one that looks a little nervous.

“Well - ‘dick or treat’ kind of seems like a hint, if you know what I mean.” Tony spreads his hands helplessly. “Do we need to have the Talk?”

“What? No.” Peter waves him off frantically. “No, no, no. No. I am good. So good. Beyond good.”

Tony snickers, but at least he doesn’t look mad, and Peter will take his blessings where he can get them. He rubs a hand over his face, looking up at his mentor sheepishly. “…what are the odds we can forget this ever happened and never mention it again?”

“Nope. Not possible,” Tony shakes his head, clapping Peter companionably on the back once again. “You gave me the material of the century kid, and you managed to terrorize me while doing it. This will be paid back in full.”

“Through God, all things are possible.” Peter counters.

Tony laughs.

[plantwithoutplot]

15 Questions OC Edition

Thank you for tagging me, @j-1173 ! (*´ ˘ `*)♥

Imma direct all the questions at my OC Léo Alzavola from my novel Eterna Storia, because he is one of my favs and has always been in all of my readers' Top 5 lol

‌Are you named after anyone?

Léo: Not that I know of? I did take my father's last name, Alzavola, when I was officially adopted in the family, though.

‌When was the last time you cried?

Léo: Today at lunch ― the guy queueing before me at the cafeteria got thr very last slice of pizza. . .  ( ͒ ́ඉ .̫ ඉ ̀ ͒) 

‌Do you have kids?

Léo: Oh God NO I'M 16―

Léo: Unless you count that one draft of the story where I'm supposed to accidentally have two kids when I'm 21~23. Love them, two daughters, much smarter than me, too! And I'm glad their mom and I get along even though we didn't stay together. We both think that spending equal time with them and kreping them happy is what matters most 🩷

‌Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Léo: Me? I would never― _(┐「ε:)_

‌What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Léo: Their Souls? Ahah... It's my superpower, gotta use it sometimes, okay? And at least I always know who is a decent person and who's an asshole you shouldn't ever talk to.

‌What’s your eye color?

Léo: Brown!

‌Scary movies or happy endings?

Léo: HAPPY ENDING ON GOD GIMME THE STUPID HAPPY ENDING FOR ONCE―

Léo: MIO DIO MY LIFE IS ALREADY ENOUGH OF AN HORROR MOVIE, LASCIA ME IN PACE― ‪( º言º)💦

‌Any special talents?

Léo: I've been told I'm ✨ e x c e l l e n t✨ at fucking the simplest shit up!

‌Where were you born?

Léo: I, uh... I don't...? Oh cavolo―... Mh, okay, okay, so. Long story short is that I was adopted when I was 7 years old. I don't... Remember much. From before. Nothing useful, at least. And we don't have any official document confirming my parents' identity or name so... I really don't know?... Can we move on, now? Please?

‌What are your hobbies?

Léo: I play the trumpet! It started out as a distraction to play during local summer festivals, since my sister is a Gardian and she brings her Manades along with her around the region, for local games like Abrivados or Taureau-Piscine. I... No. No, I won't explain. It is very weird and traditional events and you can't really do it justice by translating it. Traduttore, Traditore, y'know? But I guess you could also count horse riding as a hobby, since my sistrr taught me so that I can help her around with the bulls?

‌Do you have any pets?

Léo: Unfortunately, no... Would have loved to have a dog, though!

‌What sports do you play/have played?

Léo: I never really was one for sports outside of school... I like to hang around with friends and chill and play, but I never focused on just one sport. I do enjoy horse riding, though!

‌How tall are you?

Léo: Uuuuh... Right now? I'm 16 and only 176cm tall right now, but according to my doctor, I'm still gonna grow some more! ٩(๑˃́ꇴ˂̀๑)و🩵

‌Favorite subject in school?

Léo: Lunch? ... Okay then, uh... Italian. Since I grew up learning it from my Dad's side of the family, classes are easy to follow! And I like it better than Spanish... Sorry Mom―

‌Dream job?

Léo: Anything near to a nice 9-to-5 where I get to have a routine and a perfectly normal, boring life!! That's really, really, all that I wish for!

Tagging the amazing @whymustmyfavalwaysdie and @newbieineverything and whoever wanna play ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ ✨