#but also you're an adult who made the decision to go to college despite having a job and small children - you should plan for these things

[ceph-the-ghost-writer]

15 Questions, 15 Mutuals

Tagged by @andromedaexists! It's cool your names have connections to family and saints, and that you've tried so many things/sports. Your cats sound adorable (though this goes without saying for cats perhaps).

As for myself:

1. Are you named after anyone? Yes! My mom wanted to give me a "hippie" name like Freedom or Windsong or something, but my dad would have none of it. In one of their rare instances of compromise, they settled on naming me after a folk/pop singer who was big in the 70s. If I decide to change it at some point, I'll probably choose something very similar in spelling/sound.

2. When was the last time you cried? Like two days ago while thinking about a scene where a character experiences Gender Thoughts (positive). And the day before that while listening to talks on medieval history about humans being humans. Then last weekend, while watching Puss In Boots with my partner. Look, it's not outright sobbing and tears, but I do mist up a lot, okay? For someone who had to numb their emotions to survive much of their childhood and teen years, I appreciate this actually. That despite whatever pain I've experienced it couldn't stop me from recognizing and overflowing at the pleasure and beauty all around me.

3. Do you have kids? No, and no plans to. I'm content with my affection for the children of others in my life.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? I think so? I definitely used to, though I think I've cut back on it significantly.

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people? The way they speak and how they communicate in general. Accents, idioms, whether they're confident (and if that confidence is bravado or well-founded), is their choice of words vibe-based or definition-based, etc. I'll recognize someone's voice before their face tbh. 😅

6. What’s your eye color? Brown. I get compliments on them.

7. Scary movies or happy endings? Both? Depends on my mood. I always love a "hard-earned happy ending", though. Those Situations really did a number on my blorbos, but they kept on keeping on. That sort of thing.

8. Any special talents? Defying expectations, I guess? I often apply for jobs/sign up for experiences where the people in charge just go, Um, are you sure you're supposed to be here? And I'm like, Sure, why not, let's go. Then I do pretty well at whatever it is and they're impressed, mostly because they thought I couldn't/wouldn't stick around. People also seem to generally like my baking.

9. Where were you born? Northern California, USA.

10. What are your hobbies? Writing, reading, little art projects, video games, gardening, baking, thinking too much, harassing various invertebrates, sea creatures, and neighborhood animals with my affection/fascination

11. Have you any pets? A cat named Mimi! She was a stray I agreed to adopt from a friend on Discord while drunk. This remains my best decision made while under the influence.

12. What sports do you play/have played? I did martial arts for the last seven years, including fighting in like 4 tournaments. I put it aside since college takes a lot of my energy now. Also, training is expensive, and the culture around it sucks pretty often. I'd like to get back into it one day, just with people who value it for reasons similar to mine.

13. How tall are you? 5' 8". I'm too American to be measured in cm (joke joke this is a joke the metric system and I are buds).

14. Favorite subject in school? Before college, lit/reading. As an adult, I really enjoy history and anthropology related stuff too.

15. Dream job? Making a living off my silly little gay vampire stories. But I'd settle for translating fiction between Spanish and English.

Copy/Paste for mobile users: 1. Are you named after anyone? 2. When was the last time you cried? 3. Do you have kids? 4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? 5. What’s the first thing you notice about people? 6. What’s your eye color? 7. Scary movies or happy endings? 8. Any special talents? 9. Where were you born? 10. What are your hobbies? 11. Have you any pets? 12. What sports do you play/have played? 12. What sports do you play/have played? 13. How tall are you? 14. Favorite subject in school? 15. Dream job?

No pressure tags (and no pressure to answer any questions you don't want to ofc) @vacantgodling @korblez @space-cadead @afoolandathief @cljordan-imperium @late-to-the-fandom @thecyrulik @blind-the-winds @muddshadow @theskeletonprior @rosieartsie @letsmakeitwrite @k--havok @likegemstone @thatndginger

[weathernerdmando]

Your brain is not fully developed until you’re 25 and I can tell you with absolute certainty that despite thinking I was an adult at 19, I was not, and I am better at making decisions and weighing consequences now than I was at 18, 19, etc. 18 is only a legal threshold; you are still very much a child at 18. Have some compassion.

Hey anon, wanna know exactly what this argument allows for?

Taking away my rights. As a trans person. Which is actually happening. Which I mention in the post. The argument you're making is actively being used to oppress people.

Also, if you weren't an adult at 19 despite having the legal status in your opinion, your legal privileges should have been removed in your argument. Would you have wanted that? Because you *cannot* have those without the consequences.

Re: rights - "their brains are still developing so they can't consent to permeant changes to their body and hormone replacement bc what if they'll regret it?!!! Those poor trans people don't know what's best for them!!!" That's not just being said about kids. Its about adults too. It is in actual legislation being proposed to ban transitioning *after 18* regardless of that being legal adulthood.

Also, it's just the prefrontal cortex by 25. I looked it up. Irregardless, *if you or I at 19 made the choice to do what he did - AS AN ADULT* - I'd say it sucks but we would have been the only one to make that choice. At 19, I absolutely wouldn't have done that because it is incredibly risky as just a concept???? In the first place?? And he was not forced to do what he did, to the best of my knowledge.

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3621648/#:~:text=The%20fact%20that%20brain%20development,development%20of%20the%20prefrontal%20cortex

Does it suck the way they probably died? Yeah. It sounds horrific. Which that sucks on a human level, but I don't blame anyone *but* them and the company that took them because they made the choice, they signed the waivers, they went down and it unfortunately didn't go well. Does there need to be regulation to prevent it from happening again? Yes.

But do I weep for the sheer amount of ignoring a fuckton of danger to do this, all taken by adults? *Which they are?*

Absolutely not.

Also, it's not even the fact he's down there. It's the way everyone is acting like he is a LITERAL, LEGAL child and responding like he has NO agency. Which. Is extremely fucked up and what's pissing me off.

At 19, I was working, going to college and generally doing adult things despite it really only being my first year of even having a semblance of normal *teenaged* independence because my mom was a controlling nightmare.

I was still very aware of the fact that I was an adult and that was both exciting and terrifying because of the possibilities and their consequences. I was not a child. And despite the fact I have been in my twenties for some time now, people still treat me like I'm a child - a literal child - when they hear autism. Which pisses me off. I despise it when people infantilize anyone but actual infants because it is fucking shitty all around.

And that is what is going on.

And also, you are not everyone. Neither am I. You don't get to decide what rights should be granted when bc you think you weren't an adult at 19. I dont either. But 19 is an adult and he had more chance than either of us most likely to have a better idea of the consequences because his parents *are* wealthy and he would have grown up with that sort of knowledge more likely than either of us. He has less of a chance to be ignorant than either of us, I'd wager.

And again, he's an adult who signed a waiver and wasn't forced onto the damn thing.

So does the whole thing sound tragic on a human level? Yes, I absolutely don't want to go that way, etc. But did he accept the risks and am I going to wail over it? No. I'm going to think it's exceedingly incredibly how much lack of care for the risks took place and hope they tear the company responsible apart.

Also, since I forgot it in the original post and it's important, he knowingly was taking an incredibly dangerous trip to a FUCKING GRAVESITE.

[tartagliaxx]

“ 3AM NOODLE RUN ”

━━ ☆ PAIRING: chongyun/reader

━━ ☆ GENRE: fluff

━━ ☆ SUMMARY: technically, you should be rational like the 'adult' you're supposed to be but as someone once said, not everything needs to make sense.

━━ ☆ WARNINGS: established relationship, college!au like... three cursed words... i think

not everything has to make sense.

whether it's about drinking a shot of pure lemonade and not wincing or if it's about laughing at that old sitcom from the 80s that everybody you know hates.... it doesn't matter. sometimes, it's all right to be so peculiar that the human mind could ponder and try to decipher your mysteries and yet, still fail. it's not because of those 'even your flaws are perfect' propaganda nor is it because of those 'not like everyone else' bullshit. rather, it's all right to not make sense because making sense is all that you've known and it gets tiring really quickly. sometimes, it's just nice to let go of inhibitions and live — crazily, merrily, freely, happily. they did say that being young isn't forever so you might as well spend it as best as you know: by living without making any sense that it just makes sense.

it's 3am now and you're still not making any sense but if you did, you would've been sitting on your desk, nightlight on as you attempt to finish your thesis paper's conclusion.

but as we all know, not everything has to make sense.

fishing out your phone from the bundle that has become of your thick comforter, you dialed the number of the one person you knew that would never refuse your sudden bout of misplaced energy. once, twice, thrice. the ringing beats that came from your phone were not something unfamiliar. the call has been made before — far too many times to count now and yet, he never once failed to answer.

just like now.

"hello?"

"hi, chongyun."

you heard him sigh through the phone before he chuckled. "it's late. don't you have an 8am session tomorrow?"

"today," you corrected as you slumped down the wall. "but yes. i do."

"then why are you still up?" his concern was cute and you found yourself smiling as you cuddled your knees closer.

"i was doing my thesis — well, was trying but to no avail..."

"i see... can't sleep?"

"nah... i'm used to being wide-awake at this hour. can't bring myself to sleep properly anymore. and you?"

"same thing."

this conversation was also familiar. it's happened every single time and no matter how you tried to switch it up, it always revolves around a paper needing to be passed sometime soon and the ever-present grip of insomnia on your necks. now, it's more of a form of courtesy — small talk is what they call it but in your mind, it doubles over as an apology and an invitation.

"wanna go out?"

you sighed in bliss, "that's my line."

"we both saw it coming."

"cute. very cute."

despite the faux irritation that laced your tone, you both knew that the truth couldn't be farther from that. on your face — and on his but you didn't know that — was the biggest, possibly cheesiest grin you have ever mustered. you just had that effect on each other, you supposed. chongyun doesn't comment on the odd decisions that you would definitely regret in the morning while you don't question why he doesn't seem to know how the most basic things worked. he accompanies you and you teach him the wildest of things. it was once just a relationship founded by mutualism but as time went by, unnecessary touches were thrown in and playful jokes and forced piggyback rides home became a part of your midnight routine. even then, your relationship was easy to understand. comfort without any need for an explanation.

"do you want me to pick you up?"

"nah," you threw on an old jumper — ugly in your definition but still something you bought for a reason that also didn't make any sense. "same place?"

"same place."

you whispered a quiet 'see you soon' before you dropped the call, walking to your door with a skip on your steps because who wouldn't? it's kind of romantic — like the modern-day version of sneaking around the palace gardens to rendezvous with your true love but at the same time, it's romantic only because having someone to be with you at the dead of the night doing nothing in particular for no real reason aside from just being with them for a moment longer... that is the most of romance that you could afford to give as a college student struggling to keep up with your workload and the looming finals just around the corner.

sending one final glance to your dorm that looked a little bit drearier than it did a few moments ago, you left without your rationality in your pockets.

the sidewalks were empty. heck, the entire block was silent save for the occasional barks of the stray dogs in the alleyways. it's yet another thing that didn't make any sense. how is it that the same place habited by the same people felt, feels, would always feel as if a different place as soon as the clock strikes three? there was no explanation for the split in reality — for the ambiguous disorientation that came with the warm streetlamps and frenzied stars but a part of you knew that to question is to be ungrateful. the echo of your footsteps and the peace that came so rarely in such a busy place... it was all needed and it's probably one of the many reasons why you keep making spontaneous decisions such as this.

it wasn't as if you didn't enjoy the walk because you did. it's just instinctual to mutter 'finally' as soon as the flickering neon lights of the 24/7 gasoline station came into view. running the few steps remaining, you grinned brightly as you caught sight of a tuft of the skies itself, covered mostly by the hood of your university's sweater.

"hey."

chongyun breathed out before sending you a soft smile, eyes drooping low but holding the small twinkle it holds whenever you meet up like this. "hey."

"so... should we get popsicles?" he hummed in thought before shaking his head and hesitantly accepting your hand with a small blush on his pale skin.

"my throat hurts."

now that's alarming. immediately, your head snapped in his direction, brows furrowed, and about to question his well-being but before you could, he beat you to it.

"i'm fine. just overused it earlier. community service, remember?"

now that he mentioned it, his voice did sound rougher — huskier and a little deeper. clearing your throat, you hoped that chongyun's obliviousness would make a timely appearance. you didn't need him asking you about the sudden rush of heat all along your body or about the way your pulse jumped up with just one thought of him.

"are you feeling well?"

"peachy!" you squeaked out — a little too fast to be considered true but you, yourself, beat him from questioning you any further. "are noodles better?"

"are there... any mild ones?"

right, he can't handle spice. "there are non-spicy ones, i'm sure."

"oh... sounds good, then."

should you do it? fuck it. you reached up to softly pat his head. he's adorable, just like a little puppy still trying to learn how to use its limbs. gods, he's too adorable that you worry for your heart's condition and also for his because chongyun wasn't exactly used to physical affection and even the slightest touches had him going on an overdrive.

"shall we?" you doubt that the small whimper he accidentally let out was an answer to your question but you went with it anyway.

the bell rang as you opened the door to the small convenience store at the corner of the station. sticky floors, buzzing freezers, stray chip packets in the chocolate aisle, and a passive-aggressive cashier. nothing was special about this place but somehow, being there felt right. was it your body's muscle memory, effortlessly navigating around the place to find solace in the energy drinks section, or was it the 'no-one-gives-a-shit' vibe that had set your mind at ease?

it was neither, you decided as soon as chongyun took your interlocked hands to his hoodie's pockets. a bold move but one look at him and you figured that he didn't even know that he did it. going back, something about this empty, easy-to-miss place made it easy to feel as if there were no expectations on you. you could come in with your pajamas just to buy the cheapest beer they had and no one would tell you to fix yourself up. you might even get a sympathetic smile from the attendant if they had a good morning's rest before all of this. a big part of the comfort though, came from the boy beside you who was far too invested in reading through the instant noodle labels. he, too, came in looking like a hot mess — hair tousled from the twisting and turning he did on his bed and his godforsaken fake gucci slides that xingqiu got as a joke. the bigger joke? chongyun likes wearing it, claiming that it's comfortable and that he doesn't care much about appearances.

"which one did you get?"

"this one." he showed you the blue packet and you rose a brow in surprise. "bibim naengmyeon."

"you sure? that's kinda spicy. maybe you should try this instead?" you shook the cream-colored packet, hururuk guksu, a type of ramen proven and tested to be non-spicy. at least, as long as you don't add the chili flavoring.

"it's fine. i'll manage."

you stared at him for a minute longer before relenting with a sigh. "suit yourself."

but just in case, you sneakily threw in a box of milk in the basket.

the kettle on the corner of the store was broken, or so you assumed because it whistled so horrifyingly loud that you couldn't even make out the words to the indie song that played through the scratchy speakers in the backroom. did that stop you from twirling around like an idiot, laughing as chongyun took your photos exactly like those 'aesthetic pinterest girls' you always see on your feed? no. no, it didn't. similarly, it didn't make sense for you to do it, not when your pants were stained by dinner's sauce and your eyes were glossed over from the nth yawn that escaped your lips. he thought otherwise though, and somehow, the way chongyun tipped his head down to hide the fond smile that appeared as he looked through the photos he took was enough to fuel the fire that awakened every single nerve in your body.

"finally! it's ready now... careful, it's cold."

he hummed in reply before gently tugging you out of the store and into the half-assed tent that apparently served as a dining area. gross, you scrunched your face with disapproval. when was the last time they wiped the tables?

"that's a no, right?"

"are you kidding me? of course that's a no! maybe we should've just gotten chips like before."

"well... we're here now."

"you're telling me... is the park still open?"

he paused before he tugged the strings of his hoodie tighter. "don't think so... should we eat home?"

"the noodles would get soggy and — well, cold for mine and not cold for yours."

"what now then?"

it didn't make sense for you to be sitting down on the steps of some random apartment you found but you were there anyway. trapping your drink in between your thighs, the savory aroma of the cup noodles immediately wafted the air. it didn't look very appetizing but it certainly smelled like it did. besides, it certainly looked better than most meals you've had in your cafeteria.

"h-help—"

"huh?" you furrowed your brows, eyes not leaving your food that was starting to look better the more your stirred. "speak up. i can't hear you."

"HELP!"

you jumped up in surprise only to panic as you saw chongyun's terrifyingly red face as he tried to fan his tongue to no avail. "i told you it was spicy!"

"m-milk!"

you missed the stabbing point not once, not twice but thrice and for some reason, your half-asleep form found that very funny.

"hurry!"

"right, right..." you watched as he aggressively sucked on the straw as if his life depended on it, and in a way it was. perhaps you should've warned him earlier but by the time you were enunciating 'slow down,' chongyun was already coughing his lungs out and you attempted to help him out by awkwardly patting his back — maybe a little weaker than what would actually help.

seven minutes and three seconds. that's how long it took before chongyun regathered his wits.

"maybe... i should've listened to you." the sheepish and bashful smile he sent you had you chuckling.

"you should've. do you want to switch? i got a non-spicy one just in case."

not everything has to make sense but you and him together made perfect sense.

━━ ☆ NOTES: sigh... how long until i stop projecting myself and my feelings in my writing?

━━ ☆ SIMILAR WORKS: college!au masterlist

[the-mad-starker]

Starker Smut: A Little Stress Relief

Having a rough morning so here I am, posting this fic I wrote for @itfeelssogoodmrstark ages ago for a boost in happy feels. Based off a discord convo over me yelling about bottom Tony due to the above pic 😱 also felt like a good time for some bottom tony posting 🎉

Notes: daddy kink, lingerie, plugs, oral sex, bottom Tony

WC: 4541

(Ao3 link)

💗💗💗

Peter made his way back to his apartment with his laptop tucked under his arm. His last final was tomorrow afternoon and after spending most of the morning swimming in equations and theories, he was ready to call it quits for the day.

He was as prepared as he was going to be.

An incoming text diverted his attention and even though he felt exhausted, Peter paused just outside his door. By the tone alone, he knew who it was and the thought of talking to Tony energized him. He opened up the message right then and there, too impatient to take the time to go inside.

Still studying?

One handed, Peter replied.

Just finished. Can't wait to fly home.

Home… They had spent days looking for this perfectly good apartment when Peter finally settled on the tough decision to go to college out of state. It was in the best location, only a few minutes away from the campus and within easy reach of fast food places that were perfect for college students.

It still wasn't home, not when home was a pair of warm brown eyes with just the slightest creases in the corners. A touch of silver in otherwise dark hair. Comforting arms that were always ready to hold him. And a body that was just as receptive despite their age difference, Peter being an overly hormonal young adult and Tony, a more experienced but settled lover.

Home was a person and for Peter, that person was Tony. But he still had an exam to do and a bed waiting for him to pass out in before he could fly back.

He fumbled with his keys. Two days until he flew back to New York. Two days until he can see Tony again. It couldn't come sooner.

You're gonna ace it, kid.

Peter smiled, warmed by Tony's encouragement.

I don't even know why I'm so stressed. I know this stuff.

Key in the lock, a soft click, and Peter walked in. Maybe he'll have some ramen.

Maybe you just need a little stress relief, babe. Something to help you sleep tonight.

Peter flushed at the words.

He had picked up Tony's bad habit of pulling all nighters, whether it was school or Spiderman business. Funny enough, even though Tony refused to see the irony in it, the older man often made sure Peter went to bed at a reasonable time.

Oftentimes, he bribed Peter with the promise of cuddles which usually had the younger boy easily complying. But when Peter was particularly stubborn, a little bare skin was enough to have him following the older man into the bedroom like an eager puppy.

Peter sighed, pouting a bit. He was stressed. He knew that but now that he was paying attention, his body was sore from sitting at the library, hunched over his textbooks and notes.

Subconsciously, he bit his lip as he considered convincing Tony to get on webcam for him. Even miles apart, they could still have a little fun together. That would surely help relieve some of the stress.

Just the very thought had his body heating up, yearning for his older lover.

Stress relief, huh? Maybe you can help with that.

He walked into the small living room, so focused on how to word his request that he didn't notice the lights were already on.

"I'd be glad to help," came Tony's voice, right there in front of him.

That, Peter did notice. His head snapped up away from the screen, eyes wide and mouth dropping open just the slightest.

"Tony?"

It wasn't his imagination nor was the stress taking a toll on him. Tony, who should've been back in New York, was there in his apartment, lounging carefree on the plush little armchair tucked away in the corner of the room.

He looked good. Well, he always looked good but to Peter who hadn't seen him in person since the beginning of term, the sight of his lover took his breath away.

Tony's lips ticked up into a smirk, so achingly familiar that Peter's heart stopped then rebooted in overtime. Confidence was always an attractive trait to Peter and with Tony looking like he did now, he was the very embodiment of it.

His legs were casually spread apart, one leg thrown over the armchair in such a cocky manner. It paired well with Tony's smug little smile. He knew exactly what dirty thoughts entered Peter's mind at the very sight of him.

"Hey, kid," he greeted warmly.

"You're… You're here!" Peter exclaimed, a smile lighting up his entire face.

Those warm brown eyes scanned him from head to toe, no doubt taking in his disheveled state, his ruffled hair, and his shining eyes. For a brief moment, Peter felt all too self-conscious of his bedraggled state but he recognized the look in Tony's eyes. It was one that he was very familiar with.

It wasn't just Peter that had been affected by their separation.

"Wanted to surprise you," Tony said and a hint of mischievousness edged the corner of his smile, turning it even more captivating than usual. "So, still need some help with getting rid of all that stress?"

He watched as Tony casually plucked at his top button, teasing Peter with just that one tiny movement before putting him out of his misery. A little bit of flesh peeked through and just like that, Peter was gone.

"God, yes," he breathed out, rushing forward to where Tony remained waiting for him.

Eager hands reached for the rest of the buttons and in his haste, he may have popped off a button or two. Tony laughed when they clattered to the floor, uncaring and maybe even a little amused at how Peter's control seemed to fray around him.

"It's been months, okay," Peter muttered, cheeks warming.

"I know, baby," Tony murmured reassuringly, that knowing smile still on his lips.

A warm hand gently clasped the back of Peter's neck and Peter's eyes skipped back up from where his fingers were working. Their eyes met and Peter was naturally drawn in. With the slightest bit of pressure, Peter leaned down to hungrily kiss his lover.

Their lips met in a soft kiss but it didn't remain that way. A moment of tenderness, a reaffirmation of their feelings, before the hunger in them both became too pressing of a need to ignore.

A low groan escaped him, muffled by Tony's mouth and he pressed even closer. God, he'd miss this. Missed Tony.

When Tony made to pull away, Peter wasn't done with him yet. He chased after him, one knee settling on the cushion between the older man's legs.

His fingers sprawled over Tony's skin, wandering and re-memorizing the familiar toned muscle of his chest. Then, in retaliation or maybe just because he wanted to, he pinched Tony's nipple. That little nub hardened right between his fingers even as Tony groaned at the slight pain. Not one to waste an opportunity, Peter deepened the kiss and slipped his tongue into the soft, wet heat of his mouth.

The kiss conveyed everything that he'd been missing the past few months. Hunger. Passion. Love.

When they pulled apart, Tony's eyes were dark and Peter's trailed down his exposed chest and even further to where Tony's pants looked to be tighter than they should be around his groin.

"Bedroom?" Peter suggested eagerly. He was already considering just picking Tony up bridal style when the older man hummed in thought.

"Why wait?" Tony tempted him with a soft murmur. That knowing look in his eye grew even more sly, more provocative. "Besides, I have another little surprise for you."

Peter's heart thumped hard in his chest. It was so obvious he was on board. Bedroom or living room, what did it matter?

"Yeah?" Peter said with a breathy exhale. Tony always gave him the best surprises. "Did you wear something nice for me?"

"Maybe..." Tony teased.

That one word invoked so many possibilities that it made his head spin. All the blood rushed south and Peter was suddenly aware of just how painfully hard he was.

It was just so easy for Tony to do this to him. One look, one word…

"Oh, fuck," Peter breathed, just thinking about it.

Posessively, Peter's hands wandered further down. He couldn't feel it through Tony's suit but he could imagine it. Something lacey, maybe? Would it be black or red? Any color would look gorgeous against Tony's skin.

His hands, greedy little things that moved without his permission, settled on the older man's belt.

"Let me see?" Peter nearly begged. Despite asking, he was already unbuckling Tony's pants and tugging impatiently at the belt. At least this time, he didn't rip or break anything.

Tony's sexy smirk made him do it. Practically taunted him to strip the older man bare and see what was waiting for him, Tony's little surprise just for him. A huffed out little laugh from the older man only made Peter's cheeks grow warmer. Even still, Tony's hips lifted to help Peter with his task.

"I'll do you one better," Tony said with a contented sigh as his pants slid off in a rushed tug. "You can even touch me."

The retort was on the tip of Peter's tongue but it died off as soon as he saw what he was working with.

Tony had arrived impeccably dressed. Anyone with eyeballs could see how sexy Tony was, so confident and irresistible in his perfectly fitted suits. They were each custom tailored to show off all the flattering lines of his body but Peter knew that he was the only one to see what was beneath all that expensive designer.

He was right. He loved being right and he loved that Tony was Tony, someone who didn't give a damn about what other people would think.

Because there, wrapping so nicely around his hips, were lace panties. The shock of color, a brilliant red, was a beautiful contrast to the sleek black and grey suit Tony had worn. And through the delicate strip of lace between his legs, Tony's cock was starting to lengthen and push up against the panties.

"Oh, God," Peter breathed, voice full of reverence and above all, hunger. "I love it, Tony. It looks so good on you, so pretty and then there's your cock..."

His mouth watered just looking at it, hidden away in pretty lace but still so obviously male and beautiful.

Tony just knew everything possible that would make Peter's body want to combust out of sheer lust alone.

"Yeah?" Tony encouraged as he reached down and skimmed his fingers over the bulge of his erection through the lace. "I'm glad you like it, sweetheart. Wore it just for you, after all."

For me…

Tony was so perfect for him and Peter loved him. He was also going to suck his cock. How could he not? Tony's cock was right there in all its glory, so long and thick, and yet, he wasn't even fully hard.

Being older, it sometimes took a bit of time to get there but Peter didn't mind. He loved feeling his efforts rewarded by hard flesh, Tony's cock filling out completely in his mouth until he struggled to take it.

Peter slipped down to his knees to get into a better position.

"Gonna suck you off," Peter barely warned before he was lowering his head.

His lips brushed against the lace and he lapped at it with an eager tongue. The spit turned the red darker so that it was maroon.

Above him, Tony's gave a hiss of pleasure, hips twitching towards the wet warmth of Peter's mouth.

A taste of salt, Tony's precum seeping through, had Peter mouthing over the covered tip. He suckled lightly, not intending to tease Tony but just hungry for a taste of him.

His tongue traced over the outline of Tony's cock, licking eagerly while one of Tony's hands carded through his hair, gently and yet urging him for more.

"Ah- fuck, baby… Your mouth..." Tony breathed above him. Some of that cocky attitude had bled out now that Peter had his mouth on him. Peter could almost purr at how the tables have turned. A choked-off chuckle and then a breathless request, "Don't make me come."

Peter's eyes flicked up to him, a smug little smile on his lips when he found Tony looking at him, riveted.

"No guarantee," Peter murmured, lips caressing against hard flesh. "You'd still let me fuck you though, won't you, daddy?"

Another lick, another suck, harder and more pressure which meant more pleasure. The older man let out a soft "Fuck–" which, although it wasn't an answer to Peter's question, it was enough to let him know Tony would.

Just this brief little play and the older man already flushed and panting, though Tony tried to hide it. Peter loved taking him apart, whether it was with his mouth or his cock.

"Brat," Tony gasped when Peter peeled away his underwear.

Peter, being the brat Tony claimed he was, only pulled it down far enough that he could get Tony's cock in his mouth. He did exactly that, slipping the older man's erection into his mouth and playing with it just how Tony liked.

He watched with hooded eyes as Tony's mouth trembled before pressing together hard. It was an attempt to stop the moans from spilling out but Peter knew exactly what to do.

He didn't even need to hold Tony's cock in place, the bunched up panties were doing a perfectly good job holding him captive. It gave him the opportunity to gently caress the insides of Tony's inner thighs, another sensitive point that added to the older man's pleasure.

He had Tony ditching his reservations in no time. He loved the sound of the older man's moans. He also had the added benefit of living alone so really, what reason did Tony have to hide those sounds from him? There was no excuse.

He was tempted to get Tony off just like this. With his hands on Tony's trembling legs, the older man's cock twitching in his mouth… Not to mention, Peter loved swallowing him down.

But he had other plans. As corny as it was, he wanted Tony to come while being fucked. He wanted to feel the tight squeeze of his lover's body as he pushed inside, stirring up his insides with his cock and cum.

He could tell Tony was close so as much as he wanted to keep going, he stopped.

With a soft smack of his lips, he let Tony's cock slip from his mouth. Tony's grip tightened for just a moment, his hips twitching towards Peter's face before he fell back against the armchair with a harsh "Tease–"

To make up for it, he gave the older man slow, lazy jerks with his hand, just to take off the edge.

"You said not to make you come," Peter said, trying his best to sound innocent even while jerking the older man off.

"Didn't think you'd actually listen," Tony panted, voice tight even as his cock strained in Peter's grip. It was almost a whine. "Fuck, baby, think you need to get on with it before I just jerk off on your face."

Peter licked his lips at the thought. It was so tempting… Everything about Tony wanting him was tempting him to just give in and do what he wanted.

"I had to do something when you mentioned a surprise…" Peter said, "You know I love it when you dress up for me."

Then, to Peter's surprise, Tony actually chuckled and shifted so that his lower body was closer to the edge.

"Oh, sweetheart… You thought that was your surprise?" Tony almost crooned out the words, "Yeah, no, baby boy. The panties were just a nice bonus."

Then he wiggled a bit, thumbs hooking over where the panties were bunched around his thighs. Taking the hint, Peter helped remove it but while doing so, he figured out what his surprise actually was.

"Wait–" Peter breathed, rock hard and desperate to confirm, "are you wearing a…?"

Tony smirked. He was too cocky for someone that was just moaning Peter's name a minute ago but Peter didn't care.

"Knew you were a smart cookie," he hummed and spread his legs even further apart in invitation.

Tony was wearing a plug.

Tony was wearing a plug.

Peter couldn't help how he tugged the older man even closer to the edge nor could he help himself from pushing Tony's knees towards his chest.

His lover grumbled at the stretch but not a word of complaint was actually voiced. He was clearly enjoying the power he had to render Peter speechless. That was fine– Peter was gonna make him moan enough for the both of them.

His surprise was perfect.

There, situated between the perfect round cheeks of Tony's ass was the flared base of a plug, keeping him all nice and ready for Peter to fuck.

"When did you even…?" Peter breathed as he reached out and touched the base with eager fingers. "Didn't you just come off a plane?" Peter's words continued to rush out, as chaotic as his thoughts. "Did you really…?" Touch yourself thinking about me…?

Above him, Tony chuckled once more though this time, it had a more breathy quality to it.

"Who do you think I am?" Tony said, "I know exactly what you need, kid, and I know better than to show up anywhere near you without prep."

That was it. That was the last straw.

Peter rose to his knees and shuddered when Tony's legs circled around his waist. He leaned forward desperate to kiss the older man. His hard cock, still damningly clothed in his jeans, rubbed against Tony's erection. He gave a dirty preview of what he wanted, hips rutting harshly as he nibbled Tony's bottom lip.

Tony was just so good to him and they've been together long enough that Peter had become utterly shameless in his desires.

Even so… The thought of Tony prepping himself, either while waiting for Peter to return or fucking himself open on the plane just for him… It sent such a dirty thrill shooting through Peter's overeager body.

"I gotta…" Peter groaned, blindly reaching for the end table by the armchair. It was a long shot that there was lube in there since he hadn't been expecting Tony at all but he was getting desperate.

"Yeah," Tony groaned against his mouth, "I know, kid, I know– That's why I'm ready for you. Know just how much you need it..."

There wasn't any lube there but before Peter could curse or pull away, Tony was already pressing a small bottle into his hands.

"Oh, thank fuck," Peter groaned. He didn't waste any time popping the cap and squeezing out a good amount into his hands.

Meanwhile, Tony didn't waste any time and had efficiently unbuttoned and unzipped Peter's pants. A warm hand reached into his boxers and wrapped around him.

Peter's breath stuttered in his lungs, his body eagerly shoving forward into Tony's familiar touch. Tony's fingers curved around the length of his cock, tugging and squeezing with just the right amount of pressure.

"Look at you, Pete… Already so hard, your cock's practically ready to blow just from this…" Tony said as he jerked Peter off, basically getting all the precum smeared on his cock. "Hurry up, baby, I'm all ready for you."

With a harsh exhale, Peter hastily spread the lube along his cock, even getting some of it on Tony's hand when he retreated. It was messy and some dropped onto his boxers but he was thorough.

"Take it out, Tony," Peter groaned when he was ready, "Take it out so I can put it in…"

So close… They were so close and yet, Tony still teased him.

"Put what in, baby?" Tony's voice trembled as he reached between his legs and started to tug the plug out.

"My c-cock…" Peter said, eyes fixated on Tony's fingers.

He was teasing Peter so much, easing the plug out so slowly and torturing Peter with the sight of his tight little hole stretching over the girth of the toy.

"Wanna put my cock in you, daddy," Peter said. No sooner were the words out, the plug was finally free and Peter surged forward, pressing the tip of his eager cock against that wet, loosened hole.

He barely heard Tony's words, "Go on, baby boy, fuck daddy– I can take it, sweet boy…"

And just like that, he was inside Tony. He could almost swear that he saw stars or his vision went white or maybe just that his mind blanked out from the sheer pleasure he felt entering his lover.

He just knew that his body moved instinctively. Even a little half crazed, he was still careful with his strength. He only used as much as he needed to drag Tony's body towards the very edge of the armchair so that he could fuck into him, nice and easy.

Tony's body welcomed him, that tight heat encompassing Peter's cock perfectly. Peter could scarcely stand it.

"You okay…?" Peter managed to stutter even as his hips continued to move.

Beneath him, Tony's face was flushed, eyes hooded and his wet mouth gasping open. He was taking every inch of Peter's cock from the get go and neither of them would have it any other way.

Peter knew that the stretch must be almost uncomfortable but then again, he trusted Tony to prepare himself well. If he said he could take it, Peter was going to give it to him.

"Yeah, I'm f-fine– I'm good, just…" Tony groaned when Peter's cock rubbed right into his sweet spot. with how hard and fast Peter was going, he didn't really expect the boy to last. "Jesus Christ, kid, don't you use the toy I got you? Got it for a reason–"

The sex toy that Tony had snuck into Peter's luggage months ago had been put to use but with Tony right there… His body was so warm and so tight around him… How could a bit of plastic compare to this?

"I tried, daddy, I tried…" Peter gasped wetly, as his hips moved almost without his say so. "But it feels nothing like this… Even when I'm thinking about you, it just feels like it's not enough. Feels nothing like–"

"Ugh, good thing I came to get you, huh?" Tony breathed, a hint of smugness in his voice. "Bet you would've ended up fucking me in the bathroom on the plane."

"Probably still gonna," Peter groaned harshly at the thought, "gotta make up for lost time."

Tony huffed a laugh even while he braced himself against the armchair. "Wasn't that long ago, you're just a sex fiend."

"And your ass is to blame…" Peter grunted as he looked down at the perfect little hole spread wide apart on his cock.. "This perfect… fuckable ass… Hugs my cock just right… Nng… Mr. Stark… Can I come inside this time? Wanna come inside… Make it all wet and messy inside you…"

Tony groaned and tossed his head back. He panted, cock jerking on his belly. "This time? How many times you planning on going…"

"I'll let you know," Peter licked his lips.

He felt ravenous and too focused on this time to think about the next. He just knew that it wouldn't be the only round. He needed this too much. Tony's ass was heaven and Peter wasn't leaving the older man alone until he had his fill. "I'm like… really, really stressed, Tones…"

"Ugh, fuck… Fine– I said I'd help, didn't I…?" Tony relented, "Just try not to get it everywhere…"

Peter let loose, fucking Tony's perfectly fuckable ass with abandon. It was exactly as he said. The expensive pocket pussy that Tony got him couldn't compare to the older man's tight warm hole. He'd tried it, he really had, but it couldn't compare to the way Tony writhed beneath him. Couldn't compare the satisfying slap of their bodies coming together, almost painful but entirely worth it.

He gripped and held tight, fingers digging into the meat of Tony's thighs. The older man was at his mercy, legs hooked over Peter's elbows as his hips flexed and pounded away.

Amid their combined groans and soft curses, Peter's eyes had drifted closed. The heat of Tony's body gripped him tight, squeezing, massaging, provoking him to take what he wanted, what he needed.

For all of Tony's hard lines, the muscles he built over hard work and time, his insides felt so soft and warm. Wet and intense, a perfect little hole for Peter to fuck and use as he wanted. Because Tony would let him and more than that, he got off on Peter being the horny little shit that he was, unable to resist a man that could very well be his father.

It was an ego boost to them both, just how hungry and desperate they were for each other. Tony was just better at hiding it.

He wanted to hold on. He didn't want to stop.

He had Tony right where he wanted him, impaled on his cock and gasping Peter's name.

His muscles were tight and tense, his cock being milked by Tony's hole…

"Ah– f-fuck…!" Peter groaned as his balls drew tight.

His grip tightened, some of that super strength leaking through as he sought to get as deep as possible. At the same time, he shoved forward, hips slotting perfectly in place, getting every single inch into Tony's receptive body.

He gave everything he had and then some. It felt like a small eternity and yet, it was only seconds as his cock pumped load after load into the hole milking him dry.

His heart was going a mile a minute and sweat dripped down his neck. When he opened his eyes, he saw that Tony wasn't any better.

Cum painted white strips over his unbuttoned shirt. He had an arm thrown over his eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly but starting to stabilize as they both started to calm down.

Peter's cock was going soft and he could feel his cum squish around him as he pulled out.

"So messy," Tony murmured as he peeked at Peter. "You still wanna go for more?"

Peter looked down at his softening cock but his gaze gravitated to Tony's freshly creamed hole. His cum was oozing out and his cock twitched with interest. He'd be ready again in no time.

"God, yeah," Peter breathed as he leaned down. "I'll clean you up first, daddy."

"Clean me up just so you can mess me up again?" Tony clarified.

"Mhmm…" Peter didn't need to say anything more. He just slipped back down to his knees, pulled Tony's legs over his shoulders, and set his hungry mouth to work.

His body might be a bit sore tomorrow but it wouldn't be from stress. He was intent on getting every bit of stress siphoned out of his body and he had the perfect partner to help him.

[tadghpairceir]

🍀 And you smile when you dive in, Like you're never coming back 🍀

Born to an abusive alcoholic father and addict mother in Carrick-on-Suir, Tadgh’s mere birth was an Olympic-level feat. At just a few days old, he was traded as payment for drugs the very drugs that would kill his mother. Thereafter, death had a way of being Tadgh’s constant companion. His father, shaken by the death of his wife, drank himself to death next to her corpse and the pair wouldn’t be found for weeks, after a neighbor complained about the stench. Of course, these little details remained a secret as he was raise, at least for a short time, by the biggest Irish crime ring of its time. They raised him as normally as one could expect, albeit also raising him to be scrappy and independent. There was no spoiling of him, no toys or sweets, and any peace he found in those first few years of his life were in the books that were read to him by the rotating prostitutes that used his bathroom to freshen up before they went back on the streets.

Eventually the truth came out, as the bright blue eyed boy with his sandy blonde hair not only looked out of place in the cluster of criminals but looked exactly like his parents. Upon investigation his only living family members, maternal grandparents, were contacted and take in the, by then, seven year old. They kept the name given to him, Tadgh, because they liked the strength of it, but they were quick to change his surname to theirs in hopes of protecting him from anyone trying to find him. Truthfully, there were always signs he would never be free of them, but his grandparents were unaware of it as their health declined. Ultimately, Tadgh was in the same boat of ignorance because he was left to care for his grandparents. The years up to that point were enlightening. His grandparents quickly realized he was gifted and sought out advanced placement courses for him. For a while, Tadgh had been a self declared explorer, insisting he would one day see the whole world. Little did he know, his journey to being an explore would be a complicated but inevitable one.

By the age of thirteen Tadgh’s grandparents were completely incapable of managing day to day life without a carer. He began to voraciously read books on all types of mechanics. Then, the teen would take apart and reassemble various appliances, the family car, and his bike. It was all a coping mechanism, his way of relaxing through the stress of his inevitable loneliness. By the time he was sixteen he took odd repair jobs around Dublin until he had his own unofficial business. In just shy of two years, his grandfather would die of lung cancer. Then, a week after, his grandmother died of breast cancer. There was a guilt that came with his ignorance in the conditions. Tadgh had no frame of reference for what dementia and diabetes looked like, and assumed that they were simply getting more ill from those conditions and that because of their old age he could only help to a certain degree. His teachers at Gaelscoil had no idea what his home life was like and only a few were made aware of his grandparents passing because he was already a legal adult.

The few teachers that knew about Tadgh’s situation took particular interest in encouraging the brilliant young man to continue his education. He’d been truant because he was working more to afford his grandparents’ funerals. They made accommodations, helped him fill out his college paperwork, and apply for scholarships. Finishing Gaelscoil in December, one semester early, he continued to work while he sold his boyhood home to pay off debts. By the end of the official school year he was accepted to the Dublin Institute of Technology (DIT) and pursued a degree in business management starting August. Since he knew he would be in Dublin for at least another four years and really couldn’t see his life taking him anywhere else despite his wanderlust, Tadgh bought a small apartment near the cemetery where he’d purchased memorial space for his family members.

By his junior year and after maintaining a perfect GPA, Tadgh was offered a fellowship to spend his junior year studying abroad in France. Quickly accepting the opportunity to attend Grenoble École de Management, he didn’t realize the decision would change his life. Just two days into his first semester he met Beatrice. The pair became inseparable, sharing a love of literature as she taught him French and he offered her Gaelic. With a dread of possibly not seeing her after returning to Ireland, he decided to spend the summer with her in California, meeting her family as her “friend”. Flying home three months later the only thing on his mind was finding a way back and never letting go. It was a relationship of back and forth, but he made it to her own graduation, where the pair made the relationship official roughly a year and a half after they’d met. If you’d asked Tadgh would say a year and a half after he knew who is soulmate and future wife was.

After Tadgh finished college, he waited for his Work Visa approval to move to the United States, but he knew it would be a continued back and forth until he could obtain citizenship. On his first endeavor back to Dublin he wanted to make his intentions clear and he proposed to Beatrice. A month later, she arrived in his city and just three months after that, when they were in their mid-twenties, they eloped at the same church his maternal grandparents were wed. His citizenship was approved two and a half years later but life quickly took a turn. Just a few weeks afterward his apartment was robbed. Tadgh quickly sent Beatrice back to the states to her family and when he followed he was shortly thereafter arrested for international money laundering and other business related crimes.

With no means of paying for a decent lawyer and no clue as to who framed him aside from the criminals that had taken him as a child, Tadgh asked his wife for a divorce, to change her name and lose contact. He was afraid of what this person would do to her and the shame he was putting on her wealthy family. It was then that she told him her own secret, she was pregnant. Losing his case seemed inevitable with an appointed lawyer that couldn’t care less about his case. So, Tadgh took it upon himself to study law and appeal his case. In the time this took his son Tomás was born and, just nine days after Tomás turned one, he managed to win his appeal and his freedom.

Law books weren’t the only things Tadgh was reading when he was incarcerated. He moved through every book in the library and when he left he decided to officially launch his own business and put his tinkering to good use while assisting formerly incarcerated non-violent offenders. With the success of his business he bought a home in northern California near Beatrice’s parents and lived a seemingly routine and average life. That was until Thomás was nearly six and Tadgh’s family, along with his in-laws were murdered before his eyes by the same Irish crime ring he’d run from. Despite being beaten within an inch of his life he woke up a few weeks later to having lost everyone. He buried them in Inglewood Memorial Park, sold everything again, and rented a small flat, living aimlessly for years.

There were only a few point in his life after their deaths when things ‘made sense’. First, if he engrossed himself in literature he felt like he was in another world, transported from the pain. Second, when he was with his best friend, a Scottish girl with a heart problem who died before they could stop biting at each other over feelings. In a world where his timing was never right, his realization that he had finally fallen in love again was far too late. She’d fallen for someone he respected and died shortly thereafter. The collapse of friendship and the revolving door of death in his life made the states feel like another place of hurt. The Lattice changed everything for him.

Tadgh’s company had become self-sustainable due to the United State’s rampant incarceration rates, lack of government support to rehabilitate, and a rise in college bound students lacking trade skills. He didn’t have to worry about his finances for years because of the inheritance from the murders of his family members, but he did prefer to work. So, he settled into a quiet home outside of Malmö, travels the world, and spends his weeks tinkering or selling his work at conventions in major cities across the world.