#tw:mentions of physical abuse

[damagedward]

𝕾ü𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖓 𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖁ä𝖙𝖊𝖗

( 𝕾𝖎𝖓𝖘 𝕺𝖋 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕱𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 )

*** ⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️ ***

tw:abuse tw:abusive father tw:mention of death tw:dark themes tw:mature themes tw:physical abuse

It wasn’t her fault — her doing , it was her mere existence . How could you blame an infant for that ? A child ? An innocent who didn’t ask to be brought into this world ?

Her mother hadn’t survived childbirth , strike one . The second had been when he took a mistress — well her Mother , the Queen was deceased but he didn’t marry her — she produced the long wanted son .

And again it became her problem , her fault . He took his anger out on her as he couldn’t simply say Arthur would take the throne . Beatings became daily , mental lashings besides physical ones . He would eventually send her away so he could marry his mistress and legitimize the boy .

He would punish her in all ways he could possibly think of and manage to for all sins that were his . For she would never know that it was his own doing her Mother’s death .

He had made a bargain and a deal , long before and it would come to cost him the love of his life .

He had swore he’d never marry or love again and he hadn’t , at least in the later . His desires for his new Queen were only carnal and he only gave her title for the sake of his lineage as when the daughter he scorned and sent away returned he would disown and disinherit her . He threw her in chains and became the cause of her hatred for men after events he began transpired .

If she ever had learned or known her fathers tale , all that lead to her existence she would see that she had always been doomed , cursed , fated to a life of misery at the hands of an unhappy man , a man who couldn’t lie in the bed he made . Not without dragging others down along the way — he had created his own hell but would never see it that way .

Magic .

The root of all evil . And she had it besides .

That was a deep down self loathing in the end . A feeling of betrayal from his own parents in giving him something he never wanted in his genetics , because it came from him .

The true root of it all was him .

And she wouldn’t rest until he was gone , not simply from her life but from this world .

Uther Pendragon would cease to breathe .

Because none of it justified any of it .

They weren’t her sins .

[crybyemissamericanpie]

Old friend - Mike Schmidt x gn!reader (angst)

Old friend - Mike Schmidt x gn!reader (angst)

TW:Mention of suicide attempts,Mention of abuse,Bit of cursing

The office was thick with tension as Mike met their gaze, the lingering smell of coffee seemingly in line with the general ambience of the room.

While others may have assumed there was a deeper layer of resentment at work, the truth was that there was simple too much pride involved between the two of them to acknowledge any animosity.

Mike spoke up first, voice low and carrying a hint of tension in it, “I’m doing my job perfectly fine, I don’t understand why they brought you in."

They were no strangers to eachother and they had some history too,they knew each other way back in high school,they weren't in good condition now for sure

"You fell asleep on the job"They says looking at Mike with a calm face

“I was resting my eyes…” Mike murmured,annoyed “They look just the same as closed ones, anyway.”

He shifted in his seat, the chair letting off a slight creak. Mike hated this place with a passion, the night-shift being too quiet and lonely for comfort, so he had always taken to having a nap whenever possible. It was a wonder the boss hadn’t caught on by now…but suddenly an old ex-friend of his decides to show up,and get the job just to be with him“You and I have been through this song and dance before…”He said.silence fills the room

"We both fucked up okay?you don't have to always bring up the past"They say,frustrated.Looking down at Mike who is sitting infront of the desk with the cameras to the whole place

“What exactly have I ever done wrong?” Mike demanded, voice low - although more out of his general dislike of speaking.

The truth was, he and them had always been the same,both just as stubborn as each other and too proud to concede on anything.

“I’m not the one who left my responsibilities to chase a boy.” Mike muttered,looking away from their eye trying not to hold eye contact.

Mike and Their fathers really liked each other so they grew up together,but when both of their parents died, something clicked inside of them

They stays quiet for a moment,looking at Mike

"I was going through something too, you know what it was...And yeah I chased a boy! Yeah! I left my whole life behind me for a boy that just ruined me,cheated on me and abused me physically and mentally and I was left broken."They burst out

"I didn't get in contact with you cause I knew that I couldn't even take care of myself not even you and Abby,i didn't wanna give both of you another hard thing, to deal with also with me. When I accepted of what happened I tried helping cause I knew that I could finally help and not just be a distraction"They says,their eyes full of hope

Mike stayed stone-still as he listened to your sudden and lengthy explanation, mind racing with different thoughts and reactions. His own mothers hadn’t been fond of them either, although there weren’t any concrete reasons for their dislike they simply “had a feeling”.

He considered their words for a long moment.he understood their struggle, and understood why they did what they did. But they couldn’t run from your responsibilities when it came to family, and leaving Abby behind didn’t help any.

“You could’ve tried a bit harder.” Mike muttered eventually.

They sigh"mike.listen here, I tried to kill myself a lot in that time but do you know why I didn't do it?Because of you and Abby,cause I knew and thaught that if I'm in a better place of mind I could help and you would accept it"They confesses hardly and a bit harshly,their eyes darting into his trying to not shed a tear

“I understand that….” Mike mumbled, shifting his weight uncomfortably in his seat. He hadn’t known that they had dealt with anything close to that, but now he could see the toll it had taken on them.

Mike didn’t want to seem weak, despite his true thoughts and feelings on the situation, “It’s still not great that you just left us like that. What if I needed you?”

"I would have been a distraction,I couldn't help you or Abby if I didnt know how to help myself,I would have been just another ton of weight on your back for you to worry about"They say,trying to keep their breath steady

“And I wasn’t a distraction to you?” Mike demanded, voice louder than before out of spite.

He couldn’t help but feel hurt by some of their words - they were true, yes, and they had certainly done the right thing by staying away at that time, but it still sucked that they hadn’t kept in touch with him or Abby.

“You left me, and Abby, and we didn’t hear anything from you for years!” Mike pointed out.

"Bullshit,I sent birthday cards and holiday cards everyday with a small stupid qoute on it and my name!"They said fighting for justice ,for mike to realize that they arent that bad that mike think they are

“You think cards meant anything to me? You know Abby, she loved those cards, she used to read them over and over as if they were some kind of message of hope,” Mike said, voice softening.

“But for me? They only served as a reminder that my best friend had left.” Mike murmured.

"I was ashamed of who I was of what have I become,I moved country side,I had food delivery,I had a job that I didn't have to talk to people and stay in my house and just write, I would have never had a thought that maybe I could show up to your guys house"They whisper and admit,they were dreaned at the time,mentally and that made them sick

they wouldnt get out of bed,brush teeth,eat,work out,cook.

do anything.basically.

But Mike didnt know that even after they confess,he would never understand,he saw them just as a person who cut him and Abby out of their life without saying goodbye and now suddenly wants to come back or...

Mike thought about it for a moment, considering their words and what they had gone through.

He knew the feeling of shame, and the weight that accompanied it, and knew how hard it was to escape from that place.

Still, no matter the reason, they had left his only sister for years without a word although they had suffered, what right did they have to do that to not even Mike but Abby?

“Why did you come back?” Mike asked,raising an eyebrow as he looks up at them

"im-..."They sigh"im here to help you guys,i talked to Abbys teacher and im worried and finally i can help"They say

silence.

Mike furrows his eyebrows,a bit of guilt washes over him but he tries to ignore it

"you dont have to accept,if you want me to never talk to you or abby ever again and just keep sending cards,ill do it."They say as they look into his eyes

He sighs"We dont need your help.You can leave"Mike mutters under his breath

They nod and walk out of the office.

The guilt was still on Mikes heart but he didnt trust them now,he didnt want them to come back to their life and then leave like a building

Mike just sat there and thought was he right was he wrong?questions filled his head but his choice was final.he sees them leave throught the cameras,getting into their car ,then driving away...

[dipolardruid]

How would Bio-Mom react to reader protecting step-mom? Would she get violent with the reader?

Tw:Mention of reader being aggressively handled(non detailed), unhealthy platonic relationship, Abuse such as throwing and punching objects(non-detailed)

Not...well

She is very possessive woman, she will feel threatened by Betra especially if she finds out you're under the same roof.

So you protecting Betra whether it be argument or physical fight she will see that as a stab in the back, in her mind she had you in her stomach, fed you, dealt with your tantrums, your highs and lows everything only for you to turn around and protect a woman who showed up out of the blue?

That won't fly with her while she wouldn't hit you she would get aggressive as in yanking you, pushing, etc or in a argument she would bring up everything she's done for you, completely glossing over the fact she left and putting blame on your father.

If you during any of this tell her you saw Betra as a better mom or even called her step-mom your mother will go absolutely ballistic throwing, kicking, punching things she will slash tires lock doors and so on even with Betra there.

As mentioned before your mother sees you as hers since if it weren't for her you wouldn't even be alive, so she feels no matter what she should always be the one and only mom no one else should even be close to that position no matter what the reason is.

Hate her, love her she doesn't care at the end of the day she is your mother no one else, end of story.

Request are open!

[lilborealis]

(Literally no one asked, but I wanted to show off one of my babies! She’s the main character for my fic Cœur D’acier)

Name:Georgette Anna Chevrolet  

Date of Birth:November 20th, 1767

Birthplace:France, Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes, Rhône (formerly known as Rhône-Et-Loire), City of Lyon

Appearance:standing at 5’8, she has a pale complexion with brown eyes and slightly noticeable dark circles, straight black hair that goes past her shoulders. Her build is lean, like a ballet dancer. Has a burn scar on her left shoulder and another long horizontal scar on the right side of her torso.

Immediate Family-

Step-Father:Gerard St.John

Real Father:unknown

Mother:Estelle St.John (née Durand, formerly Chevrolet before her divorce)

Siblings:Philip Chevrolet(older), Adam St.John(younger, half-brother)

Likes

————————

-her brother Philip

-drawing, painting, anything to keep her hands busy

-reading, loves to collect antique books

-dabbles in science, mainly readings

-being by herself

-the night, very much a nightowl

-a big cat person

Dislikes

————————

-her half-brother, mom and step-father

-being in loud places for too long

-a certain blonde sharpshooter and his equally stupid brunette friend

-her childhood home

-waking up early

-Pierre Bellec

-Philip being overprotective

Personality-

-often cold, quiet and somewhat mean at first appearances, Georgette is very intelligent and often wants to get the job done with no distractions. She prefers to work by herself as she doesn’t want anyone to “slow her down” if they can’t keep up. This is due to Georgette’s insane perfectionism as she believes anyone else can’t meet what she considers a “job completed” is someone who gets in her way

-People who know her well enough though, say she’s very caring towards them. She is concerned for those she cares for, and loves spending time with those people. How you know she likes you if she lets you exist in the same space as her

-somewhat closed off, she doesn’t like to talk about her childhood, especially her mother. She doesn’t really like to talk about herself either

-She considers herself to be very independent, preferring to take solo missions. This often puts her in arguments with Philip as he is protective over her, due to how she was mainly targeted by their mother as a child. She loves her older brother but sometimes finds him suffocating

-she does have trust issues, which is why she seems so cold and distant at first

Backstory-

(TW:mentions of child abuse, neglect and harassment)

-born on November 20th, 1767 in the St.John manor, Georgette was born with the last name St.John until she ran from home and took her real father’s last name of Chevrolet

-Georgette only really had Philip and some of the servants that were nice to her growing up. Estelle and Gerard often neglected the Georgette and her brother, opting to pay more attention to Adam. Georgette was unaware at the time, that it was because she and Philip were deemed as “illegitimate”

-The only time Estelle interacted with her daughter was to “train” her into a “perfect wife” ever since she was a child. Young Georgette often blamed herself for when she couldn’t meet her mother’s impossible standards. Estelle would often abuse her mentally and physically if she didn’t, only claiming to love her if she followed her orders

-this gave Georgette her perfectionism :(

-her relationship with her step-father wasn’t that much better either. He never hit her but often neglected her as a child as she didn’t know that he wasn’t her father until much later in her life

-she was a very shy child and had few friends her age due to her mother isolating her. The only friend she briefly had was a maid’s son named Paul Lacroix. She and Paul would often have to keep their friendship secret and often played in a secret room in the attic. Paul promised to keep his mouth shut as Estelle didn’t want her children associating with “the lower class” and Georgette would be punished. Unfortunately, Estelle stumbled upon them and tricked Georgette into thinking Paul blabbed, turning her against her only friend. She wouldn’t see Paul again until they were adults

-at sixteen years old, Georgette and Philip were at a party hosted by their mother. She announced that her eldest two children were getting married to their fiancés after “long and wonderful courtships!”. This was the first time Georgette met her fiancé, Henri DuPont, the heir to a wine fortune. He was much older and very controlling. Once Philip and Georgette learned they were to be secretly married to their fiancé’s immediately right after the party, a move by Estelle so they couldn’t plan an escape, they managed to escape during the party. Estelle didn’t realize they had escaped until the end of the party

-Philip and Georgette ran away to Paris. Georgette found work as a washerwoman and a seamstress. Philip was hired in construction due to his strength. They lived in the attic of a boarding house with several other people. Georgette came back from work one day to find Bellec rummaging through one of her roommate’s things. She mistook Bellec for a mercenary sent by her mother to hunt down she and Philip. She put up a fight, but Bellec quickly got the upper hand. Philip soon arrived and almost beat Bellec to a pulp, but the assassin escaped

-Georgette’s first brush with the unfairness of the law came when a soldier tried to hit on her. She rejected his advances and when he got too handsy, Georgette slapped him and managed to fight him off, humiliating him. The next day she was almost arrested for trumped up charges of prostitution and theft, brought upon by the emasculated soldier. Philip was there with her and tried to fight the soldier, but was shot in the process. The two were then saved by three assassins. Siblings Rosalind and Alexander Fournier, and Pierre Bellec

-the creed moved Georgette and her brother, as both felt they were never given a choice due to their controlling mother. So they felt inspired to join the brotherhood. They took the last name of Chevrolet, having learned that their real father had that surname and was a butcher from their step-father. So as one last act of defiance against their mother, Georgette and Philip took the last name of Chevrolet

-Georgette was mainly trained by Rosalind Fournier and partially Sophie Trenet. She grew particularly close to Sophie Trenet, finding her an admirable character. Georgette raised through the ranks quickly and was eventually forced to train an assassin that came from Giverny, Lionel Poussin. Georgette found Lionel irritating, as he had a reputation as a flirt, who can use his “silver tongue” to get whatever he wants. She considered him a slacker-type and annoying, as he kept on flirting with her during their first mission

-Georgette and Lionel’s first mission was to destroy a fraudulent apothecary in The Court Of Miracles, and kill the man who ran it, Laurent Moreau. Lionel recklessly killed Laurent in broad daylight before Georgette could get into the apothecary, drawing unnecessary attention. She was ambushed in the middle of trying to burn down the place of business and injured during the fight. Lionel managed to save her but she passed out soon after, due to a concussion and exposure to unknown chemicals. It was this fiasco that soured Georgette’s opinion of Lionel even more, despite how charming he was to everyone else

-Then when the Revolution broke out, she was forced to keep watch over a new novice, Arno Dorian. She found Arno arrogant but a lot more capable than Lionel, yet she wouldn’t admit that Lionel had charmed his way into her heart as well

———Playlist———

Blue Hair-TV Girl

Swan Lake, Op. 20 Suite: 1.-Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky

Oblivion-Grimes

Bellyache-Billie Eilish

Last Words Of A Shooting Star-Mitski

Rainbow-Kesha

Seventeen-Ladytron

Washing Machine Heart-Mitski

Aesthetic——

A library filled with old books; dancing when no one is watching; broken mirrors; frost on a windowsill; moonlight peaking through the curtains; old, worn ballet shoes; dirty paint brushes sitting in a jar; pieces of charcoal sitting on a half-finished sketch; a stash of love letters; bruised knuckles; long black hair tied with a dark blue silk ribbon; a silver tabby sitting on a windowsill; hands with callouses on them; a long, white nightgown; heeled boots covered with dirt and grime; a vase of fresh roses sitting on a desk; the moon tarot card; silver coins and jewelry

[snakess-17]

miss pauling sad headcanons

TW:mentions of suicide, harassment and stress. 

she has thought about whether the job is really worth it, not that she can quit, she knows too much to be allowed to quit. this makes her question death as a bad thing.

She has been harassed by the mercenaries and can't do anything about it because she doesn't want to get a scolding from the administrator. however, she carries a gun just in case.

the times she has tried to resign, she has been manipulated by the administrator, who verbally abuses her so that she will not resign.

she has no friends, no family. she truly believes that when she dies she will not be remembered by anyone- she has no family.

she suffers from various physical aches and pains due to stress: headaches, backaches, heart problems, among others.

she is really not happy

[thesierraharvey]

Welcome aboard, SIERRA HARVEY, STUDENT #11. we are excited to set sail with you !  has anyone told you that you look like DOVE CAMERON? According to our records, you hail from LOS ANGELES, USA, SHE/HER, are CIS FEMALE, and are here to study MUSIC. We also see you received a spot on the ss university because of your MONEY — we won’t tell anyone. During your first few weeks here, other students said you were SWEET, EMPATHETIC, but also RECKLESS. It sounds like you spend most of your time at the ZEN ROOM. Upon checking your luggage, we noticed you packed a GUITAR brought from home. Hopefully your roommates don’t steal it!

Please note all trigger warnings before continuing: mentions of physical abuse, sexual abuse of a minor, alcoholism, post-traumatic stress disorder, depression

P E R S O N A L I T Y

Sierra has always been the sweet girl who cares about others more than she cares about herself. Some think this is a fake persona she puts on and they think this more when they find out she was raised doing pageants. They usually think it’s a kind of show but she really does just care about people’s happiness. She is 100% the type of girl to cry when in an argument and hates being shouted at. In spite of Sierra’s need to make sure everyone is happy, she’s very reckless with herself. She holds a lot of trauma in her head that she doesn’t deal with healthily. If she can look after others, she doesn’t have to look after herself. This makes her quite reckless with things like alcohol because it helps to numb her for a little while. She doesn’t think she has a problem. Sierra is quite a naturally flirty person - whether she means to be or not - and loves physical connection. She loves hugs and feeling close to people. If you have Sierra as a friend, she is undyingly loyal and would always be there for you no matter what. Sierra can be a little naive from time to time and struggles at recognising liars. Overall, she’s a sweet girl with a kind heart but struggles to be kind to herself.

P A S T

Sierra was born on 11th June 1999 to Marie and Michael Harvey. Michael was an oncologist and Marie owned her own dance school. They originally met when Marie was a patient after finding a lump in her breast. Luckily, she could be treated and survived this. The second she was no longer a patient, Michael asked her on a date and they were married within two years to then have Sierra. Marie had a lot of ambition growing up and participated in pageants but as she grew older, she felt she was no longer pretty enough to take part in competitions and ended up opening her own dance school with the money she had made from her crowns. Now that she had a daughter, she could push all of her ambition on to her daughter. She was signing her up for pageants left right and center since she was 5 years old. Although she was pushed in every direction from dancing to baton twirling to gymnastics, the main skills she loved the most was musical instruments and singing. Her early life consisted of a lot of pressure and a lot of travelling to different states to take part in competitions. Her father, however, did his best when she was around to keep up with her education and trying to treat her like a normal child. They’d go to the park, they’d get ice cream. He spotted how much passion she really had for music outside of it being used for competitions that he really invested in her learning music. It was fair to say he was a supportive dad who cared deeply about his daughter while her mother saw her as a way to relive her own youth. In her mother’s eyes, she was an object whether she would admit that or not. 

During her pageant competitions, Sierra did very well. Most often, she was in the top three and won quite a number of crowns and prizes. The few occasions when she wouldn’t be in the top three, her mother would get furious - blaming her, asking her why she couldn’t do more. When I say she would get verbally abusive, I’m not kidding. It rarely got physically abusive but there were the occasional times in her teens where she would get a slap if she didn’t get something right. In a competition when she was 14, it was looking like Sierra wouldn’t make it in to the top and her mother felt like she had to do something to stop her daughter losing. She took Sierra to the dressing room of one of the judges and left her there for the man to do anything he wanted with her. She never spoke about the abuse she suffered there but it was enough to win her the crown which was all her mum cared about. Marie let this happen two more times in the next year. It wasn’t until she came back home to Los Angeles with her mum and a crown in hand that her dad noticed the bruises on her wrists. He’d noticed she’d been a little off over the past few months. She’d snap out of nowhere and hate being touched by anyone. He’d tried his best to get out of her what had happened subtly but when he noticed the bruises, he followed her to her bedroom where she was unpacking and locked the door. Michael sat her down and out right asked her what happened. After a few claims of nothing, he just kept pointing out evidence that gave him the reason to ask until finally Sierra burst in to tears and told him everything. Michael promptly kicked Marie out of the house and got a swift divorce, winning custody of Sierra and getting a restraining order against Marie for both himself and Sierra as well as making sure all the money won from Sierra’s pageants were put in to a savings account for her to access when she was 18 so that Marie could not handle any of the money. He got three different men charged with sexual assault on a minor so they would spend time in jail for what they did to his daughter.

Her dad did everything he could to help Sierra. He got her in to therapy which took multiple sessions for her to open up at all but when she did finally open up, she told them everything. She was officially diagnosed with PTSD and depression. She takes anti-depressants to keep her balanced and for her lack of sleep, she was initially given sleeping pills to make sure she slept however, her nightmares were made worse by the sleeping pills so they had to use alternative forms of therapy to try and help her. Sierra’s main use of therapy was reigniting her true passion for music and writing songs. Another method being meditation and yoga to feel more in control of herself and her body. However, she does keep one method away from her therapist and that is alcohol. She likes the way her body feels loose and numb when she’s drunk as well as the fact she doesn’t worry about anything. It’s how she ended up in the party scene of LA with fake IDs. Her dad wasn’t exactly happy about her being drunk when she was still young but it was getting harder to control her. He understood why she was doing all of this and he was doing his best to lightly stop her. Michael ended up finding a job back in his hometown in (insert Student #4′s location here), he decided to move him and Sierra out there to get her away from the scene she was finding herself in. 

P R E S E N T

Sierra went along with the move and when they were there, she settled a lot more. Michael ended up reconnecting with an old childhood friend and first girlfriend which led to them reigniting their previous love and starting a relationship. Now they are married and merged their two households together giving Sierra a step-sibling around the same age as her. She now has access to her money from her pageant days and has used this money to study music at university which is how she has ended up here. 

[mossybee-exe]

Come & Go|Dabi x Adult! Reader

TW:Mentions/showing of mental and physical abuse and manipulation, angstyyyyyyyy, angst to (SLIGHT) fluff (so yeh pretty angsty for once)

Sum: It's been about 8 years since Dabi was arrested and went to Tartarus after the awful things he did to you. Although, you weren't expecting him to show up randomly at your door after so long. And HE didn't expect a small surprise that was with you...

It was such a long time ago.

8 years to be exact!

Yet you still remember it like it was yesterday. Every little detail.

You used to date, or more accurately, FORCED to date Dabi!

He kidnapped you a long time ago and you couldn't escape. Even if you tried, he would teach you a lesson. Which is what got you the permanent burn mark on your left shoulder.

But the worst part was when he forced you to have a baby with him so you two could start a family.

But shortly after your child was born, you managed to escape AND was found by a hero just I time! Securing yours and your baby's safety. Even the police and hero agreed to make sure any records of your child that showed he was related to Dabi and the Todoroki Family was kept secret or was gone.

And probably a normal person would end up hating their child, as they're the blood of the villain. But you couldn't bring yourself to hate or even hurt him! That wouldn't make you any better!

So you two got a nice small apartment and a nice job, and you vowed to make your child's life a happy one! One without his father.

Even when he asked about it, you didn't tell him he was a villain, and just told him he hurt you and left you all alone. That caused your son to hate his father and that made you pretty happy as you hated him too.

But it wasn't like this forever...

One nice Thursday, it was your day off! So you were playing with your son and his Linking Logs.

"Look mommy! Now the cow is in his pen! And now the farmer can take care of him!" Kai says, pointing to the toy cow. "That's neat, Kai!" You tell him.

He was probably only about 6 years old now, but you still loved him to death. The good news is, since Dabi normally had his hair dyed black, you didn't see a resemblance between him and your son's white hair! And he had your e/c eyes! It also helped he didn't have the scars!

That's when a knock is heard at your door. "I'll be back, Kai!" You tell him, getting up and leaving the living room, walking down the hall to the front door.

You open it up and your gaze is met with the icy blue eyes that still haunt your dreams.

Your eyes widen with horror and shock as Dabi stood in front of you. He had a hoodie on so it was obvious he had just broken out.

"We need to talk." He tells you. You would've said no, but he didn't have any sigh of hostility in his eyes. So you were going to take a chance.

"What do you want?" You narrows your eyes, ready to use your quirk if necessary. "I'm sorry." He states plainly, which completely catches you off guard.

"I'm sorry for the pain I caused you, the hurt, that burn on your shoulder, all of it."

You thought he was joking, but the sincerity in his voice told you otherwise. But it didn't fool you. "Sorry doesn't cut it, Dabi. You did awful things that were beyond a sorry!" You remind him, and he nods.

"Mommy? Who is it??" You hear Kai call from the other room. Dabi's eyes widened a bit as you shouted, "No one, honey!" Over your shoulder.

"Is that our son..?" Dabi asks, earning him a glare from you. "MY son." You correct him. "You believed that what we had was "love" when in reality, you were just obsessed with me and I was forced to go along with it otherwise you would've hurt, or worse, killed me! And you think you have the right to call the child in there OUR son??" You continue.

"I know.. but surely you must've felt some sort of connection between us!" He asks of you. "Not even in the slightest." You reply bluntly.

"I just... Wanted to make up for everything I did to you.." He mutters, police sirens in the distance, growing closer and louder.

"Well it's too late for that." You reply.

The police arrive and take Dabi away once again, just like before. You felt arms wrap around your waist and you look down at Kai.

"I'm scared mommy.. why was that man at our door?" He asks as he watches the police put Dabi into the back of their car.

"Don't worry sweetie.. he won't hurt us anymore. I promise.."

[forgedroyalseal]

Haunted

TW:mentions of past drug use and cage mentions of physical abuse

Even after all these years, the nightmares from Skandia still haunt him. The smell of warm weed, the anguished screams, the bite of the whip hitting his back, and above all, the relentless cold that rooted its self into his bones. It wasn’t as bad now as it was in the beginning though. When Will first came home his nightmares would send him into panic attacks where he forgot that he was back in the safety of the cabin. That’s not to say they lessened in severity or frequency, more so that he just became used to waking up in fear. Most nights, he can eventually fall back to sleep. But on nights like this one, when he can still taste the drug in his mouth and he can almost feel the hot blood and ice cold water pour down his back, he silently sneaks away, deep into the woods until he finds the tallest tree he can. Then once he’s at the top he gazes up at the inky black sky. Finally he breaks down, screaming and sobbing and cursing his life until his throat is sore and his stomach is aching. Then he just sits in silence, unable to push away the painful memories. Just before the break of dawn he hears someone approach the base of the tree.

“Will,” Alyss calls out. “Will, come back to bed.”

He looks down at his beautiful wife through the branches and leaves. “Go back to the cabin,” Will says, his voice broken and raspy.

“I’m not leaving without you.” And steel in her voice assures him that she’s not bluffing. Sighing, he starts descending down the trunk. Once he’s back on the ground he can see that she’s holding a thick quilt that was a wedding gift from Lady Pauline. She wraps it around his shoulders then embraces him in a tight hug.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to come out here. I’m sorry that I’m not strong enough to move on.” His voice is barely above a whisper and if she wasn’t holding him so closely, Alyss is sure that she’d miss it.

“Don’t apologize Will.” Her voice is low but firm, “Not for this. Never for this. But next time, please talk to me. I don’t care what time it is, wake me up and talk to me. You can’t bottle this up forever Will, it isn’t healthy. If you won’t talk to me then someone, Halt or Horace or Cassandra. I know that I wasn’t there, but they were. Let them help you.”

“They weren’t though! They weren’t around when I was being beaten, or locked into the slave yard, or given that damned drug! I was alone.” His voice breaks on the word “alone”.

“But you aren’t alone anymore Will.” Alyss pull away from their embrace just far enough that she can cup his face in her hands and tilt his head off of his chest so that his gaze meets hers.

“You have so many people who love you. I know that you’ve struggled with this for so long on your own, but you don’t need to. You don’t need to tell your pain to the sky because there are so many people on the ground who will listen.” She kissed him gently and the walk back to the cabin. They talk for hours and Will tells her things about his experience in Skandia that he’s never told anyone before. Alyss listens quietly, taking it all in. It doesn’t fix everything, nothing ever could, and there will still be nights that he will choose the silence of the stars over the comfort of his family, but for now, it’s enough.

[m1sseveryth1ng]

TW:mentions of abuse, SA, physical assault.

Sk8 the infinity is probably one of my favorite fandoms to be in. It just feels like the least toxic/problematic fandom out there. My only complaint though is that people are so quick to hate and judge anyone just because they say Adam is an interesting character. Like I’ve made a few posts talking about his character and pretty much every time there’s someone commenting that I’m defending him and excusing his actions.

No I’m not. Of course I’m not. I in no way agree with him physically assaulting multiple characters, one of them being a minor. I in no way agree with him sexually assault another character, again a minor (his first race with Langa). And I in no way agree with him pretty much grooming a 13 year old child.

What I mean by he’s an interesting character is looking at his past, seeing him endure abuse by his aunts and them claiming it’s out of love. That gave him his warped perception and twisted views on how you show love. Then Tadashi showed him skateboarding and he found something his loved to do and made him happy, that’s why he says he loves all of his skating partners (at least that’s how I interpreted it). And then later his father burned his skateboard which 1. Took away the one thing he truly loved and 2. Reinforced sadistic ideas. Also his father outwardly opposing Adam skateboarding and everything else he experienced could have taught him to hide the true meaning of his words under something else. So him saying he loves all of his skating partners isn’t necessary attraction in any way, but loving the feeling of skating because that’s what makes him happy.

Also him hiding the actual meaning of his words would be exemplified in the last episode when he calls Tadashi his dog and saying he will be forever. A lot of people took that as something sexual, which yeah, on the surface implies that a lot, but Tadashi has been with Adam since they were kids. And again Tadashi showed him skating, Adam was happy when he was with Tadashi and he was skating. So it’s not necessarily sexual, but in a way, saying that Adam can’t live with Tadashi.

With all of that being said, I still hate him. He’s a terrible person and a creep. Beyond a creep even. But with everything I said before this, explains why he turned out the way he did. And while his abuse and trauma doesn’t excuse his behavior, it gives us a deeper understanding of the character. And if you think about it people who have been abused, either end up a better person and fighting against the pattern, or falling into it. Adam just happened to fall into it.

[obligatorynasty]

The Weight of the Knife, Part 3: Beveled

Part: [1] [2] [3] | Read on: AO3 | WC: ~11k | Please excuse any typos.

Main Tags: BadBoy!Tony, Highschool AU, NFF, Angst, TW:Mentions of Blood, TW:Abuse, TW:Graphic Depictions of Violence, TW:Bullying, TW:Underage Drinking and Smoking, Bruises, Hangovers and Mentions of Puke, [Read all tags on AO3]

Dedicated to @starker-stories, whose love for this AU kept me motivated to write more.

~*11*~

For the remainder of the day, Peter and Tony stayed in their room, save for the occasional bathroom break or a food delivery courtesy of Ned. They chose to relax together, underneath the covers, in each others’ arms, far away from everything and everyone, especially the aggravating presence of Quentin Beck. Peter wondered how he, once again, fell for a false earnesty and Tony lamented about being an absolute wreck over his father’s conniving behavior. It was almost therapeutic to realize that they were being toyed with; to realize that their fights had been exaggerated by outside forces; to finally see it had not all been their fault.

And after hours of emotional exhaustion, Tony had fallen asleep, snug against Peter’s stomach, arms wrapped around the younger’s torso. Peter, however, was wide awake. Despite his hangover, he was determined to fulfill his promise. He would protect Tony at all costs, even if it meant staying up into the night, fighting his headache, and sifting through the plethora of files in the Stark Industries database. 

With Jarvis, Peter was able to compile some very damning evidence about the company, including its dealings with terrorism and the various transgressions of its CEO. He even had security cam footage from the Stark mansion. Some clips were so heartbreaking that he couldn't bring himself to watch them. Video after video of his most precious person being abused by someone who should care for him the most.

Peter sighed and placed the phone against the nightstand, running a hand through Tony’s hair as he did. His boyfriend was so innocent when he slept, his eyelashes gently twitching in dreams and his soft snores vibrating against Peter’s abdomen. It was almost a shame to have to wake him, but he needed him for what came next. “Tones,” Peter whispered, softly tapping his fingertip against Tony’s cheek. “Wake up.”

Tony stirred awake, yawning as he spoke, “Is it time?”

“Yeah.”

Before Tony’s nap, they had discussed what to do about Quentin. Tony’s anger did not go away. It was just sharper, more focused, not as unhinged as before. He wanted payback in the form of violence and, if Peter was honest with himself, he did too. 

Quentin had played Peter for a fool. He tricked him into defending their fabricated friendship; tricked him into believing that friendship – that stupid, insignificant friendship – was somehow worth all of the arguments with Tony. Peter didn’t just want payback – no, he wanted some fucking retribution. He wanted Quentin Beck to regret what he had done. 

And he wanted it to hurt.

So Peter shared his plan, in whispered breaths during their lazy day, convinced by the devious smirk it brought to Tony’s face, that it would please them both. And it started there: right outside of Quentin’s door.

“Beck?” Peter spoke as he knocked, his free hand restlessly clutching the handle of his suitcase. “Are you awake?”

The faint sound of footsteps approaching the door made Peter’s heart race but, surprisingly enough, especially to Peter, it wasn’t because of nerves. It was the adrenaline of knowing what was to come coursing through his veins. As the door swung open, he put on a terrified expression, attempting to sell his distress with wet eyes, a furrowed brow, and a frown. “Beck,” He let his voice tremble like he was on the verge of tears.

“What’s wrong, kid?” Quentin asked, moving to place a hand against Peter’s face, thumbing at the tear that escaped his lower lash. “Why do you have your bag? What’s going on?”

Peter clenched his teeth and leaned into Quentin’s touch, trying to be as persuasive as possible, “We need to leave.”

“Why-?”

“Tony hit me,” Peter lied, feigning his sorrow with a sniffle and a stressful hand through his hair. “You were right about him. I should’ve listened, I should’ve-”

“Shh,” Quentin pulled Peter into a hug. “It’s okay. We can leave. I’ll pack my stuff.”

“Okay, but be quick,” Peter urged, shaking as he prevented himself from flinching out of Quentin’s grasp. “Tony doesn’t know I’m leaving.” An extra lie, coated in a frantic tone that made Quentin pack in a hurry, carelessly throwing his belongings into his suitcase before zipping it up and grabbing his keys from atop the dresser.

“Okay, come on,” Quentin whispered, following Peter into the hall as he closed the door behind him.

That was easier than Peter thought it would be. And with one task complete, Peter moved onto the next: the keys. As they reached the top of the staircase, Peter made a show of how heavy his bag was; struggling with two hands as he slowly took the first step, and then an even slower second, and a third at a snail’s pace…

“Here, let’s trade,” Quentin offered, handing Peter his keys in exchange for the suitcase.

And as he clutched the keys, watching Quentin carrying both bags down the stairs, Peter couldn’t stop himself from smirking. The next part of his plan began once they made it outside and walked down the driveway, far enough away from the house that what followed wouldn’t be heard. 

Quentin stopped at the curb, turning on his heel, “Hey, kid, unlock the car, would you?”

Peter shook his head, face expressionless as he stared into Quentin’s puzzled eyes. “No,” He said as he reached into his pocket, pulling out Tony’s butterfly knife and flipping it open.  “I can’t do that, Quentin,” He added as he held the knife forward.

Quentin gave a slow, confused laugh, “What’s going on, kid?”

“You know exactly what’s going on,” Peter glared at him, his anger starting to seep out. “How much is Mr. Stark paying you, hm? Enough to buy a fancy new car?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Quentin immediately denied, a feeble attempt at maintaining his ruse.

Peter sighed, reaching into his pocket, switching the keys for his phone. “Quentin Beck, 18, works for Mysterio Incorporated as a professional grifter,” Peter snorted at the next line. “A prodigy in the art of the con. A bit of a stretch there, no?” He continued, “Official job assignment: sever all social, physical, and romantic connections between Peter Parker and Tony Stark.” He said, pointing the phone screen towards Quentin. “Still don’t know what I’m talking about?”

Quentin immediately dropped his gaze but then he laughed, slow and a bit dismayed, “I’ll give it to you, Parker, you’ve surprised me.” As he lifted his head, he seemed to relax in a different, less-friendly persona like a chameleon donning its natural color. “How’d you find out?”

“I heard you on the phone.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have taken that call,” Quentin shook his head, “You know, this was supposed to be an easy job,” He pointed out, “Break up a scared little kid and a violent asshole.” He kicked the suitcases onto their sides, “But, of course, you turn out to be just as crazy as he is,” He snapped, “You two are fucking perfect for each other!”

Peter was unfazed by Quentin’s anger – in fact, he was indifferent to it; there were no trembles or fear, not even a flinch. “That’s very nice of you,” He nodded and looked over his shoulder. “Don’t you think, Tones?”

“Yeah,” Tony spoke as he stepped out of his car, cigarette and lighter in hand, nonchalantly having a smoke as he leaned against the car’s hood. “We are perfect for each other, baby.”

“Fuck this shit,” Quentin rolled his eyes, holding his hand out. “Give me the car keys, Parker.”

“Come and get them,” Peter taunted and tightened his grip on the knife.

Quentin scoffed, taking a step closer to Peter, “And what the fuck are you going to do with that?” He shook his head and took another step. “What? Stab me?” Another step. “A scared little bitch like you would never .” Another step; inches away from the knife. “Now give me the goddamn keys!” Quentin yelled, lunging towards Peter to snatch the keys, but his efforts were fruitless.

Peter slid his foot back, angling his body so that the pocket with the keys faced away from the impending grasp. He inhaled fast, his hand reactively flinching, swiping the blade of the knife against Quentin’s outstretched arm. And as he pulled away, he exhaled and glanced down at the knife, its beveled edge now streaked in a thin layer of blood. Then his gaze flickered to Tony, who was puffing gray into the latenight air, watching the interaction without an ounce of worry. The sight kept Peter calm as his focus moved back to Quentin, who had recoiled backward with a hiss, clutching his arm.

“You stupid little- you cut me!” Quentin snapped, fists balling in anger. “I’m not fucking playing with you, Parker!” He dashed forward, so caught up in his rage that he paid no attention to his biggest threat. Not bothering to notice the cigarette that had been flicked against the pavement; not even glancing up to see how close in proximity the looming threat was. It was a grave mistake.

Tony wound back his fist and clocked Quentin so hard in the jaw that he stumbled backward, tripping against a crack in the pavement. His hands shot down against the warm concrete, palms scratching on the abrasive surface as he broke his fall. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth and the cuts on his hands and arm, but there was no time to focus on the pain. He rolled over, quickly shifting to get back on feet, but the bad boy had descended, pinning him against the ground. He had no choice but to brace himself as a flurry of quick jabs were unleashed on his face, the force of which would no doubt break his nose if he did nothing. So he pushed, wrestling Tony onto his side, trying to flip them entirely and turn the tides of their fight, but Tony’s knee in his gut threw that plan into the water.

On impulse, Quentin clutched his stomach, letting out a pained grunt, watching as Tony stood and poised himself to kick the same place he had kneed. Acting quickly, Beck rolled, dodging the kick and finally managing to get back on his feet. Much like the fight against Loki, Quentin fought passively, fists squared to protect his face as he waited for Tony’s next move.

Tony laughed, brimming with a refined rage like he had dragged all that unhinged anger to an anvil and forged his next attacks. He was light on his feet, taking a boxer’s stance and closing in to throw a couple of jabs at Quentin’s openings. There were a few misses to the face, but a single hooked punch to the side had Quentin hunched over. 

And from there, it might as well have been decided. Tony grabbed Quentin in a headlock, letting loose a whirlwind of punches to his side, reveling in the way Quentin collapsed to his knees in pain. It was when Tony grabbed Quentin’s arm and positioned himself to break it that Peter finally interjected.

“No bones, Tony,” Peter stepped towards them, placing a hand against Tony’s shoulder. “We are still kicking him out. He has to drive.”

“Didn’t you say that piece of shit car was self-driving?”

“I did, but-”

“A rib?” Tony asked, his eyes dilated from the adrenaline of the fight as he held Quentin in place.

Peter glanced down at the bruised boy, whose eyes were teeming with a spark of defiance, and he found himself wanting to watch that spark get extinguished. “That’s fine.”

What followed was a kick to Quentin’s ribs so forceful that he screamed and started to give in, gasping and wincing in pain, “Fuck you, Parker!”

“Tony,” Peter whispered. “Another.”

And Quentin couldn’t get a word in before the pain of having a rib broken blended with the pain of having an already broken rib kicked. “Okay!” He grunted out, fear glazed across the tone of his voice. “Okay, fucking stop! Stop!”

“Tones,” Peter said it like a command and Tony followed it by holding Quentin still in a kneeling position. Then, Peter stepped in front of Quentin, squatting down to match gazes, “Are you ready to apologize?”

“What the fuck?” Quentin growled, weakly struggling against Tony’s hold. “No! I was hired!”

“Tony, I didn’t hear an apology, did you?” Peter asked as he hovered the butterfly knife in front of Quentin’s throat. “Maybe he needs a little more. How many ribs do you think you can break before a person passes out from all the pain?”

Quentin’s eyes went wide. Even with a knife outstretched and poised at his throat, the words that fell from Peter��s mouth were somehow sharper and more perilous. “Fine!” He broke, voice cracking under the force of Peter’s threat. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry for what I did, okay? I’m sorry.”

“See?” Peter smiled, hovering the knife upward and pressing it gently against Quentin’s face. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

And Quentin let out a defeated laugh, “How are you even the same person I saved last week?”

“I’m not,” Peter stood, pulling the car keys from his pocket and throwing them into the sand. “Now fetch and don’t come back.”

~*12*~

“Did you get my email with the security cam footage?” Peter spoke into his phone, pacing back and forth in the sand. “Yeah, it’s really bad. Did you call the lawyer? Do you think he can do something with it?” He asked, stepping into the wet sand, enjoying the feeling of warm water splashing against his feet. “Thanks, May. Yes, now I’m having fun. Yeah, Tony too. Nope, there’s no alcohol. No, I’m not lying. My voice doesn’t have a tone. It doesn’t!” He laughed, turning on his heel, surprised to find Tony walking towards him with two drinks in hand. “Oh, May, I’ve got to go. Yeah, Tony’s here. Okay, okay, I’ll tell him. Bye!” Peter hung up the call, smiling as he took a cup from Tony. “May says hi and that she misses you.”

“Auntie called?” Tony’s eyebrow shot up. “Why didn’t you say so? I could’ve talked to her.”

“You can talk to her when we get back,” Peter waved it off, taking a quick sip of the fizzy mixed drink, face scrunching from the burn of vodka. “What did you put in this?” 

“Nothing much, just vodka and soda.” 

Peter groaned, looking at the drink like it could kill. “How much exactly?”

Tony smiled, looking Peter up and down, “Did you get sexier since the last time we spoke?”

“In the few minutes I was on the phone? Absolutely.” Peter playfully retorted, returning the smile. “But no avoiding my questions. How much vodka, Tones?”

“Not that much,” Tony laughed, taking a large swig of his drink. “Just don’t drink it too fast, okay?”

Peter gave a light huff, “What about you? Two more of those and your cup will be empty!”

Tony scoffed, “I’m not a lightweight like you.”

Without warning, a water balloon exploded against the back of Tony’s head, covering his back in cold water that had him cringing. Peter erupted into laughter, matching the energies of Rhodey, Pepper, Bruce, and Happy, who had pails of water balloons filled to the brim, fully prepared for war. “That’s what you get for talking shit,” Peter joked.

Tony grinned, turning towards his friends with a fire in his eyes. “Now I’ve got to show these fuckers who’s boss.” He took another large swig of his drink and pressed a kiss to Peter’s forehead. “Hold this for me, baby. I’ll be right back.”

Peter grabbed the cup, watching with a smile as Tony ran towards his friends. Seeing him like this was refreshing, like the stress of the previous week never reared its ugly head. In fact, just relaxing with friends without Quentin around had proven cathartic for them both. Peter spent his morning swimming with Ned and MJ while Tony helped Rhodey and Pepper make breakfast. The adrenaline of last night’s events had simmered and the vacation part of their vacation had truly set in.

Peter carried the two drinks up to the deck, where Bucky, Sam, and Steve were chatting and lounging on chairs. As he took a seat, he laughed at the excited way MJ and Ned prepped their buckets, readying themselves to join the water balloon fray. “You two don’t stand a chance out there in the trenches,” He joked.

“You just watch,” Ned exclaimed, dramatically thrusting a balloon into the air, “I will emerge victorious!”

MJ laughed, shaking her head as she kicked off her sandals. “You should join us, Pete. We can emerge victorious together.”

“No, thanks,” Peter smiled, placing the cups on the ground and slumping against the back of the chair. “But I wish you luck on your conquest.”

“To victory!” Ned yelled, running down to the beach with a water balloon poised to kill.

“Suit yourself, dude.” MJ grinned as she followed, beaming a water balloon from the top of the stairs to one of the unsuspecting teens below.

“Your friends are wild, Pete,” Sam said with a soft laugh. “But they’re alright.”

“Agreed, I really liked them,” Bucky nodded. “I liked Quentin too. Did he ever say why he had to leave?”

Peter shrugged, leaning to grab his cup and take a sip, feigning ignorance. “All he said was he had a family emergency.”

“Shame he had to go,” Steve said with a playful grin. “With all that flirting he was doing, you could’ve been just like me.”

Peter raised an eyebrow, “Like you?”

“He means having two smoking hot boyfriends,” Sam explained, gesturing to himself and Bucky.

“Oh!” Peter shook his head, a small pink tint flushing his cheeks. “It wasn’t like that with Quentin. We were just friends.”

“Were?” Bucky squinted.

“Are! Are.” Peter gave an awkward chuckle and sipped his drink. “Anyways, me and Tony are fine with just each other.”

“Yeah, you guys seemed fine the other night too,” Sam wiggled his brow. “Really fine.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Bucky gasped as he recalled what happened. “You two must have crazy sex.”

Those words made Peter’s small pink tint turn into a fully-fledged blush, “No, we actually haven’t…”

“You guys haven’t had sex?” Steve’s jaw dropped. “Really?”

“We’ve like...fooled around, but yeah, no sex...um- actually, we were supposed to during this break,” Peter admitted, taking another sip of his drink to quell his embarrassment.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Sam questioned.

“Nothing really,” Peter shrugged, glancing down at the beach and all the balloon carnage scattered across the sand. “We just haven’t had the time yet.”

“I think you guys should fuck tonight,” Bucky pointedly suggested. “You’ve got to seduce him, Peter.”

Peter scoffed. “I don’t have a single seducing bone in my body.”

“Drunk Peter had my dumbass fooled then,” Sam spoke under his breath, causing Steve and Bucky to giggle.

Peter gave an awkward laugh, “Can we please forget about that?”

“You sucked on his finger like it was his dick,” Bucky interjected.

Peter groaned, dropping his face into his palm. “Excuse me, I’m going to wither away now and transcend this plane of existence. Don’t wait up for me.”

“See ya,” Sam quipped.

Steve laughed, sitting up from his lounged position, “You don’t have to be embarrassed, Pete. There’s no judgment here.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, doll,” Bucky waved it off with a smile. “I’m sure, one of these days, you’ll catch us finger sucking too.”

“That’s comforting,” Peter rolled his eyes with a smile. “But okay, I’ll revert the withering process for now. Still, I don’t think I can channel drunk Peter on command.”

Sam nodded, reaching beside his chair to grab his own drink and holding it out, “Then, instead of channeling him, why don’t you just be him?”

“In moderation this time,” Bucky stressed, holding up his drink as well.

“To Peter getting fucked,” Steve offered a toast.

Peter giggled, holding his cup up to complete the cheers, “To getting fucked!”

~*13*~

Getting to this point was easy. After dinner and a bit more drinking, Ned roped everyone into a mini dance party with loud summer tunes and plenty of drinks. And something about the unintentional cardio mixed with the assortment of alcohol really made Peter’s haze set in. It was not nearly as strong as before – his motor functions were definitely intact – but that teeth-numbing warmth and indiscriminate confidence was alive and well. With all the sloppy dance moves, Peter could tell that everyone was somewhere on the drunk spectrum, even Tony, who was sporting tinted red cheeks and a very uncharacteristic smile as he moved to fall against the couch.

So, as he danced, Peter locked eyes with the seated bad boy, attempting to be seductive as he rocked his hips to the music as best he could. A little sway here, more hip in that move, add a bit of shoulder to that one; he was putting in a lot of effort. Yet, judging by the obvious snickering his boyfriend was doing, it probably wasn’t reading as sexy – he was trying his best, okay! He gave up, pouting as he rounded the couch, standing behind Tony and leaning in to whisper against his ear. “How dare you laugh at me. I was trying to seduce you.”

“Oh, really?” Tony snorted, leaning his head back against the couch. “I couldn’t tell.”

Peter blushed, lips still pursed in a pout, “Not even a little?”

Tony smiled, reaching his hand backward to pat his boyfriend’s hair. “Okay, maybe a little.”

“That’s good,” Peter whispered as he pressed a kiss against Tony’s cheek. “Did it turn you on?”

Tony inhaled sharp, “This definitely is.”

“Really?” Peter was surprised but moved to speckle more kisses against Tony’s cheek, jaw, and neck. “You like this?”

“Of course, baby,” Tony smirked, tilting his head to lock gazes with Peter. “I fucking love it when you touch me.”

A whine escaped Peter’s throat but, with his goal of seduction still at the forefront of his mind, he managed to contain his excitement. Instead, he leaned in, licking the space beneath Tony’s ear and whispering a fervid, “If you come to our room, I’ll touch you wherever you want.”

Tony didn’t need any more convincing.

They made their way to the bedroom, exchanging affectionate touches as they went. A hand on a hip, circling fingertips against exposed skin, the brush of an arm; innocent gestures that turned fiery the moment they stepped beyond the threshold and closed the door. Peter was the first to latch on, pulling Tony by the collar of his shirt into a messy kiss. One that tasted of vodka and smoke and, among the residual heat of dancing and arousal, it felt like a solar flare against his lips. He moaned into it, moving to jump up into his boyfriend’s arms. 

Even in his buzz, Tony didn’t miss a beat. He caught Peter by the waist, stepping to press him against the wall but diverting towards the bed when Peter whined, a very needy, the bed, Tones, the bed. It was confident and sensual and made Tony hard enough to feel through his jeans. 

And Peter could really feel it, especially against his own growing hardness as his boyfriend walked them across the room. He hummed pleasantly as he rutted against it, moving to trail kisses down Tony’s flushed neck, biting down against the skin of his collarbone and sucking to leave a deep red mark.

Tony inhaled through his teeth and groaned at the sensation, muscles flexing as he slowly lowered Peter against the duvet and climbed up between his legs. Then he smirked, staring down at his boyfriend with lust clouded eyes, “So we’re in a biting mood today, hm?” He whispered, leaning down to reciprocate the bite, leaving a mark of his own and enjoying the little whimper that spilled from Peter’s throat.

Peter busied his hands against his boyfriend’s toned stomach and in his wild hair, caressing toward the nape of his neck and around to the small of his back. He moaned, arousal flooding his core as Tony kissed his jaw and brought a hand up his shirt, rolling his fingertips against his nipple. It felt amazing, even more so when mixed with the heady feel of alcohol in his system. He found himself soaking in the closeness, lifting his hips for more and whining when the pleasure of the contact shot up his spine.

But then Tony’s hands snapped to Peter’s waist, pushing him back down against the mattress. “You’re so fucking eager,” He whispered, unable to hold back his pleased grin.

“It’s because I want you to fuck me,” Peter shot back, reaching to push Tony’s hand away and continue his impatient rutting.

“ What? ” Tony looked startled for a moment, then his expression turned pleased, then guilty, then worried. “Fuck, wait,” He shook his head, sitting back onto his knees and pushing down against Peter’s hips. “We can’t.”

Peter pouted, gently brushing his fingertips up Tony’s forearms. “Why not?”

Tony sighed, staring at Peter’s hands like they were torture devices. “You’re drunk, baby.”

“Am not,” Peter lied, putting on his best sober face. “I’m perfectly fine, so please,” He pleaded with a smile, moving to unbutton his shorts but pouting when Tony grabbed his hand to stop him. His expression fell into a frown, insecure feelings starting to surface in the form of anxious words, “Are you saying you don’t want to?”

“No, I do!” Tony said, his eyes glancing across Peter’s body. “I do. A lot ,” He took a deep breath, “You have no idea how much.”

“Then why?”

“Because I want you to be here when I fuck you.”

Peter rolled his eyes, shifting to prop himself up on his elbows. “I am here, Tones.”

“Not completely,” Tony shook his head. “I want to see the face you make around my dick when you’re sober.”

“Me too,” Peter whispered.

Tony let out a light huff, raising his brow, “You too?” 

“No, I meant-” Peter blushed, averting his eyes, “That I want to w-watch you get off inside me.”

“Yeah?” Tony’s voice cracked a little, Peter’s words hitting him like a gunshot to his sanity. He inhaled slow, his gaze momentarily turning indulgent, “What else do you want, sweetheart?”

Peter bit his lip, nervously staring up at his boyfriend and whispering, “F-For you to- um... choke me.”

Tony grinned, leaning forward and ghosting his hand against Peter’s throat before pulling it away, “What else?”

“I want you to be r-rough,” Peter mumbled. “And um- use me... however you want because… I really just want to be good for you.”

Tony inhaled through his teeth, shifting to adjust himself through his jeans, “You are not making this easy for me, baby.”

Peter quietly gasped, “That too, that’s- I want you to call me baby,” He admitted, his face cast in a red hue. “Or baby boy. I like that more, but not all the time, just sometimes, like when we’re alone.”

“Okay, noted, I’ll be sure to tick these boxes later,” Tony smirked, “Anything else?”

“I don’t know,” Peter whispered, slumping back against the bed. “You’re going to think it’s stupid.”

Tony shook his head, “I doubt that.”

“It is!” Peter closed his eyes, looking more embarrassed by the second. “It’s a bunch of stupid first time stuff that’s completely unnecessary because this shouldn’t be such a big deal.”

“Come on, just tell me,” Tony gently urged. “Let me decide if it’s unnecessary.”

“Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Promise.”

Peter paused, covering his face with his hands and taking a deep breath. “I want-” He slid his hands away, revealing his expression, earnest and vulnerable, “I want you to say you love me.”

Tony froze, his jaw all but falling to the center of the earth as he was absolutely floored by Peter’s words. Moments of silence passed and then some more, where Tony just stared, gazed, focused solely on the boy in front of him, seemingly trying to find his words.

But Peter couldn’t take the silence, so he gave an awkward laugh, “N-Nevermind, you’re right, I’m drunk, ignore me, I’m being stupid, I’ll just go to sleep now.” He shifted away from Tony, moving to hide beneath the covers, fully prepared to wallow in his embarrassment.

But then Tony laid down beside him, pulling Peter’s covered body against his, whispering a comforting, “That’s not stupid, Peter.”

~*14*~

Spring break ended after a night of fireworks and group photos on the beach. The following morning brought a group effort clean-up, promises of summertime get-togethers, and friendly number exchanges. Packing the cars turned into hugs and ‘ see you later ’s, which turned into their long drive home. The trip ended perfectly but, as he watched the coast disappear behind them, Peter couldn’t help but feel sad. He already missed the early morning swims, the hilarious conversations around the fire pit, and the drunken late-night antics. As he settled into his sadness, a notification from Ned popped up on his phone: New Group Chat Invite from ‘Petey’s Mutuals .’ The name alone was enough to turn his mood around. He immediately dropped a laughing emoji in the chat, smiling at the flood of memes. 

“Who’s blowing up your phone? Auntie?” Tony asked, his eyes trained on the road ahead.

“No, Ned made a group chat with everyone,” Peter giggled and reached for Tony’s phone,  “You got an invite too. Want me to accept it?”

“Sure, if you want, but you know I’m going to mute it later,” Tony quipped.

Peter rolled his eyes with a smile, “I know but they’re asking for you. You’ve already been dubbed Petey’s number one mutual.”

“Petey?” Tony repeated with a smirk.

 Peter laughed, “I don’t make the rules.”

The remainder of the drive was peaceful, filled with an atmosphere of playful banter and spontaneous jam sessions as the greens of the coast turned into the greys of the city. As the fresh air became stagnant and the windows were closed to give rise to the open vents, their laughter became crisper, easier to hear without the rush of outside sounds. The sun was beginning to set as they turned onto Peter’s street. It was there that their pleasant moment faltered.

Standing in front of Peter’s building, like some kind of treacherous final boss, was Howard Stark, with his sleeves cuffed to his elbows, a sway in his posture, and a five o’clock shadow. He looked furious and a bit drunk, evident in the way his car sat askew against the curb.

“What the fuck?” Tony whispered under his breath as he parked his car across the street. “Why is he here?” He stressed, pulling the keys from the ignition and dropping his head against the steering wheel. 

“Don’t worry, we’re in public, he can’t do anything,” Peter assured as he pulled out his phone, quickly texting his aunt before placing his hand in Tony’s. “We don’t have to get out of the car if you don’t want to.”

“He’s been drinking, Peter,” Tony sighed, lifting his head to reveal his conflicted expression. “I don’t think being in public is going to stop him.”

Peter brought Tony’s hand up and pressed a kiss against his knuckles, “I’ll go and tell him to leave.” 

And before Tony could protest, Peter was outside the car, bravely crossing the street and calmly approaching the apartment building. The slam of the car door let him know Tony was behind him but he didn’t glance back. He kept his eyes trained forward, locked on target, “Why are you here?” He asked, knowing the answer but starting there anyway.

“You!” Howard yelled, reaching forward and yanking Peter by his collar. “What the fuck did you do you little shit?”

In a breath, Tony was there, warily stepping between them and trying to pull Peter out of Howard’s grasp. The defiance angered his father and, just like before, the moment was fast. A hand was raised and swinging, aimed for Tony’s face. The only difference was, this time, Peter didn’t freeze. He held out his arm, using it to shield his boyfriend from the abuse. This time Peter was not paralyzed by his fear, he was motivated by it. 

As his hand landed against Peter’s arm, Howard seethed, preparing for another swing, “You fucking-!”

“I see you got our email,” Peter interrupted, smirking despite the pain throbbing in his arm. 

“Email?” Tony repeated, distracted by the sight of his usually skittish boyfriend standing up to his abusive father. 

Howard’s eyes went wide, instinctively reaching to grab Peter again but stopping when the young boy spoke. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Peter warned. “Don’t forget that we’re in public and it’ll only help our case.”

Howard hesitated, glancing down the sidewalks, reluctantly stepping backward as his eyes met pedestrians. “How did you do it?” He fumed, the scent of alcohol billowing off his breath, “How did you break my encryption?”

“I didn’t,” Peter snorted. “Tony did.”

Howard’s attention shifted, zeroing in on his son with a vehement rage. “You gave this slut access to our company!” He screamed, “Do you even know what you’ve done? Did I not teach you better than this?” And, without warning, he grabbed Tony by his upper arm, “You goddamn waste of space!”

Peter clenched his teeth and, much like his boyfriend had just done for him, he shoved himself between them, trying to pull Tony out of Howard’s grasp. “Keep your fucking hands to yourself!” He snapped, surprising even himself with the outburst but having no time to process it before Howard’s hand was locked in his hair, harshly yanking his head forward.

“What the fuck did you just say, you little shit?!” Howard seethed, ignoring the glances from passing bystanders and, when his son flinched to stop his violence, he yelled an imposing and threatening, “Don’t even think about it, Anthony!”

Peter hissed at the pull, hands shooting up, struggling to get free. The pain was sharp on his scalp and, for a moment, he wanted to call out to Tony. Call out to be protected; to be saved. He wanted to rely on him but, with one glance at his boyfriend’s terrified face, he knew he couldn’t.

Because Tony was relying on him this time.

“You’re dumber than you look,” Peter spoke, laughing through his pain. “We were going to keep this quiet in civil court but you seem so determined to let everyone know what an abusive asshole you are.”

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” Howard retorted, yanking Peter up to face him. “You have no idea who you’re making an enemy of!”

“A businessman.”

“What?”

“I’m making an enemy of a businessman,” Peter repeated, his eyes stinging from the pain but his expression remaining calm. “I’m not an idiot. A rich person like you doesn’t fear court or prison or lawyer fees. You don’t care about anything but your bottom-line and keeping your company out of a scandal.” His brow furrowed then, “So I suggest you let me go before I circulate the files online and burn your precious company to the ground.” Peter’s words were venomous and deathly serious, enough to convince Howard Stark into releasing his hold. 

“Anthony, what have you done?” Howard turned his attention to his son, “Son, they want to take you away from me. They’re blackmailing me in court. Do you know that?”

“I-” Tony was frozen, struggling to find his words, his hands trembling, “I’m-”

Peter’s face softened as he stepped beside his boyfriend, gently interlocking his steady hand with Tony’s shaking one.

“Is that what you want? Stark Industries is yours too, son,” Howard continued. “You’ll inherit billions. They’re trying to take that away from you.” Then he pointed to Peter. “He’s trying to take that away from you. Don’t let this one mistake ruin your whole life.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” Tony finally spoke, his voice cracking as tears started escaping down the contours of his face. “I don’t give a shit about the company. You do! That’s the only fucking thing you care about! So stop pretending you care about what I want! All you do is control my life and beat the shit out of me!”

“I do that out of love, Anth-! Tony , you’ll be the perfect successor. You’re brilliant, son. You got through my encryption. You’ll take Stark Industries so far if you would just listen to me ! All you need is a little tough love to keep you in line. Keep you away from mistakes like him. I’m guiding you-!”

“You’re abusing me!” Tony yelled, “Just like you abused mom and chased her away!”

“I did not abuse that bitch!” Howard shot back. “She left! That’s on her!” 

Tony inhaled through his teeth, averting his gaze to the ground, “I want them to take me away from you.” He looked up, his eyes red from all the tears but his voice clearer than ever. “Fuck you. Fuck the company. Fuck that fucking house and fuck your dirty money.” He gently squeezed Peter’s hand as he continued. “You always say I’m just like mom, so I’m leaving too.”

“No,” Howard’s voice was taut, “Listen to what you’re saying, son! You’re giving up everything, and for what?” He questioned, gesturing to Peter and the old apartment building. “This?”

“Yeah,” Tony nodded, stealing a glance at Peter, “For this.”

“You fucking useless child! You need me!” Howard screamed.

And he would have continued too, if it weren’t for the flashes of red and blue and the sirens rounding the street corner. 

“Boys!” It was Aunt May, hurrying down the apartment’s front steps with her hands outstretched, beckoning for Tony and Peter. “Boys, come on inside!”

~*15*~

“Why on earth do you have so many boxes of clothes?” Peter promptly complained as he opened yet another box filled to the brim and labeled Tony’s Closet . “And I swear it’s all the same black shirt!”

“It is not,” Tony laughed as he worked at unpacking a box into his nightstand. “I have at least one white shirt in there.”

“And this!” Peter stepped out of the closet, donning Tony’s cap and gown from graduation. “You looked so cool walking across the stage, getting your diploma—”

Tony snorted, “I got the folder for the diploma.”

“— and, after summer school, you’ll look so cool getting your diploma in the mail.” Peter corrected, smiling as he slid the gown off and started to fold it. “The school was not so lenient about Tony – puts the T in Truancy – Stark, huh?”

“Yeah, turns out you actually have to go to class to graduate, who would’ve thought?” Tony jested, pausing as he pulled a picture frame from his box. For a moment, he stared at the photo, distress clouding his previously content expression, but then he dropped it back into the box, sighing before picking it up again.

“What’s that?” Peter asked as he walked over, kneeling down to get a better look.

Tony shrugged, “A picture of that painting from my old man’s place.”

“You have a copy of it.” It was more of a statement than a question. Still, Peter was stunned that Tony would hold onto it after everything that’s happened.

“Yeah,” Tony sighed again as he placed it back into the box. “But I don’t even know why. I just...”

“You just?”

 “I just feel weird being in a place by myself, I guess, and it’s the only thing I have with the three of us together,” Tony sighed, shaking his head. “It’s fucking stupid, I know. He’s in it so I don’t want to put it up but she’s in it so I don’t want to get rid of it.”

Peter smiled, leaning to press a kiss against Tony’s forehead. “Then, while you decide what to do, I’ll get some pictures of us that you can put up.”

Tony smirked, deciding to leave the picture in the box for now. “Can I have that one in your living room of you at the science fair? You know, the one with your hair sticking up?”

“Absolutely not,” Peter laughed, playfully pushing against Tony’s shoulder. “That one of us during spring break is still in the group chat though.” He mentioned, returning to finish unpacking the closet. “I’ll print it out and frame it for you, okay?”

“Thanks, baby,” Tony happily responded, then his voice dropped low and uncertain. “Do you think I should bring up the picture thing next time?”

“Next time?” Peter asked but quickly realized what was meant. “Oh, for your next session? That’s up to you. If you want to talk about it, then go for it. That’s what they’re for.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed. “You’re right.”

Since spring break ended, a lot has happened. Tony’s dad agreed to let him move out, especially with the looming threat of a child abuse scandal above his head. More litigation was scheduled but they recently got the restraining order approved, which Aunt May called a ginormous win against that battalion of corporate lawyer dickheads .

In the meantime, May let Tony stay in their apartment. Though, despite Peter’s promises to keep his door open at night, May refused to let Tony sleep in his room. So for the next couple of months, Tony slept on the couch, and ate dinner with a smile, and watched movies that made him laugh. He sang rock ‘n’ roll when he washed dishes with May and flirted when he helped Peter carry baskets of clothes to the laundry room. His toughest days were his therapy days, when he would come back emotionally drained and tired, but even on days like that, he still managed to smile. 

After graduation, Tony surprised everyone with the announcement of his new start-up business. It was a tech company of his very own, built from his progress with Jarvis and his endless technological imagination. One good payday turned into two and soon, he was even making enough to put himself through university. May suggested MIT but Tony said he would see how he felt after summer school ended.

Moving into his own place was Tony’s next big step. Aunt May demanded that he buy the studio apartment down the hall because no eighteen year old should be all on his own, young man . All in all, things were going well and they only seemed to be getting better.

“Hey, Tones, what’s this?” Peter stepped out of the closet, holding up a brown leather jacket that seemed much too small for his boyfriend’s body. “Is this an old jacket? From before you fell into your all-black-everything phase?”

Tony laughed, shaking his head, “No, that’s actually for you.”

“What? For me?” Peter’s eyes widened as he stared at the jacket, his fingers grazing the high-quality fabric. “But why? What for?”

“Our six month anniversary extravaganza,” Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t get a chance to give it to you then and, now, I guess the surprise is ruined.”

“I’m surprised,” Peter smiled as he threw on the jacket. “It’s a perfect fit.”

“Happy eight and a half months, baby.”

“Thank you, Tony,” Peter grinned, biting at his lip before he spoke. “After we’re finished unpacking, how about I give you your gift too?”

“My gift…?” Tony squinted but then his eyes went wide. “Really? Today? Like today today?”

Peter giggled, “I mean, I’ll have to take a shower first, but yeah.”

“Let’s fucking hurry up then,” Tony joked, making a show of his rush to unpack.

After another hour of diligent work, every box was emptied and every piece of clothing was folded and put away. Posters were hung, and kitchen cabinets were filled, and the couch was angled perfectly in front of the TV. They even carried the boxes down to the recycling bins. Everything was perfect and, when there was nothing more to do, they glanced at each other with blushing faces and simultaneous offers of you can shower first. Then awkward laughter as they corrected with a You can go ahead. No, you can, baby. Are you sure, Tones? Yeah.

It was an exchange that left Peter laying in the middle of Tony’s bed, fresh from his shower and wearing nothing but a black t-shirt from his boyfriend’s closet. Waiting anxiously as he listened to the sounds of the shower water and the hum of evening traffic pouring from the window. Scents from the soaps he had used and the lingering smoke from Tony’s ashtray wafted in the air and filled his nostrils. The only light came from a small nightstand lamp that left the room basked in a dim hue. 

Peter’s heart was racing from thoughts of what was to come and it only quickened as the water shut off. He jolted up, sitting with his calves tucked beneath his thighs, tugging at the shirt’s hem as he stared at the bathroom door. A few more minutes ticked by – where he listened to the sounds of towel drying and moisturizer bottles and toothbrushing – before the doorknob turned and his boyfriend emerged, drying his hair and wearing nothing but boxers.

Tony took a few steps before glancing up from beneath the towel, smiling when he laid eyes on Peter, “That’s a good look on you, baby.”

Peter blushed, tucking a stray curl behind his ear, “It’ll look better off of me.”

Tony gave a light laugh as he tossed the towel against the back of his desk chair, his hair unruly and damp as he made his way to the bed. “I don’t doubt that,” He said as he climbed up onto the sheets, moving to sit cross-legged in front of his boyfriend, putting their bodies only inches apart. “Hey,” He whispered, reaching to clasp their hands together. “You’re sure about this, right? You know I don’t mind waiting for you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Peter smiled, idly caressing his thumb against the back of Tony’s hand. Fresh shampoo scents filled his nose as he scooted closer – close enough to feel the warmth of Tony’s legs against his. “Are you?”

“Fuck yeah,” Tony grinned, lifting Peter’s hand to his chest so he could feel how fast his heart was beating. “I’ve never been more excited to fuck someone, can’t you tell?”

Peter giggled, rolling his eyes with a smile, “No way that’s true.”

“Of course it’s true,” Tony assured, smiling as he reached upward to place a gentle hand against the younger boy’s cheek, thumbing at his jawline and the underside of his chin and against the front of his throat. “You’re the first to make me so fucking nervous.”

“Good,” Peter let out a light huff, grinning, “At least we’re both on the same page.”

For a moment, Tony laughed – and Peter joined, the sound of their laughter blending together in the modest space – but then he was silent. His eyes flickering between Peter’s big brown eyes and soft inviting lips, his breath going a bit shallow as he leaned forward and his eyes fell closed.

And Peter met Tony halfway, capturing his lips, which tasted of spearmint toothpaste, in a tender kiss. One that morphed into an innocent flurry of pecks that he smiled into and took his time with. Only deepening when hands traveled to bodies and lips began to part and Tony’s grip at Peter’s sides pulled him onto his lap. And Peter dragged his hands through his boyfriend’s still damp locks, not caring about the moisture that clung to his palms as he draped his arms over Tony’s shoulders and pressed their bodies even closer.

The brush of their arousals sent a spark of pleasure to Peter’s core, reminding him of just how exposed he was. Spreading his legs caused the t-shirt to hike up, so the only thing that separated his hardness from his boyfriend’s was a thin layer of cotton boxer fabric. The friction left him whining into the kiss. The right angles had his lips stalling like the sensation threw his mind off balance and the wrong ones had his hips grinding to chase what felt so right.

Tony gripped the underside of Peter’s thighs, skimming his fingers against sensitive skin and stopping to cup his ass, pulling his body closer to incite more of that sweet friction. Then, he broke their kiss, opting to bite the younger’s bottom lip before pulling away with a smug grin, “Getting off just on this, sweetheart?”

Peter’s face flushed but he breathed a playful, “No, not at all.” Confidence was abundant in his tone but his lie was so evident in the way he continued moving his hips and showed no hesitation in letting his little moans free.

“Oh, and if I do this?” Tony asked, moving one hand to Peter’s erection, squeezing ever-so-slightly and stroking slowly from base to tip.

The sudden touch brought a breathless moan and a raspy Tony to Peter’s lips. His body tensed and his head lolled backward as the buzz of stimulation brought a bead of pre to the tip of his erection. And when Tony did it again, Peter started stammering, “I-I’ll c-come, T-Tony, I-”

“I know, baby,” Tony whispered, halting his movements to wait for Peter to calm down. “But you know better than that, right?” He grinned, a smug grin that made Peter’s already flushed face go a deeper shade of red.

“Yes,” Peter whimpered, excited by the way his boyfriend was talking to him. He liked this part of Tony – the part that was in control and confident.

“Then say it,” Tony demanded as he thumbed slowly at the head of Peter’s length.

“I-” Peter groaned, his nails digging into Tony’s shoulder blades as he fought against the urge of release. “I d-don’t come unless you say so.”

“That’s right,” Tony smiled as he went back to stroking. Watching as Peter got dangerously close to the edge and then abruptly slowing down just before the younger boy had a chance to lose it. And then he would do it again, and again he would watch his boyfriend’s wanton reactions; the sweet shaky breaths, the whole body flinches, the high-pitched moans.

Soon, Peter was sweating, skin glistening in the low light as he was mercilessly teased and edged. It was torturous but it was nice; after all, this was something they had done before. The familiar territory helped him relax, helped him cast off the anxiety and the unease, helped him to be confident and stay in the moment. Helped him find the courage to steer them towards the next step.

“Tony, I want you inside of me,” Peter moaned against his boyfriend’s ear, adding a breathy please because his body urged him to.

And Tony’s muscles tensed and his breath hitched and his eyes near dilated at the sound of his boyfriend pleading for him. "Okay," He nodded and tugged at the t-shirt. "Then take this off for me," He instructed as he halted his hands and shifted off of the bed, moving to grab a bottle and two condoms from his dresser drawer.

As Peter pulled off the t-shirt and realized what the bottle was, he blushed. He found himself embarrassed that he didn't have his own – especially when he was the one asking for his boyfriend to be inside him – and he also wondered how Tony remained so unfazed when he carried those things to the bed. 

Peter wanted to ask but he was already being pushed down against the pillows and sheets, his mouth once again being overtaken by his boyfriend’s lips. This kiss was more carnal than the last, a mix of swirling tongues and an urgency akin to hunger. 

Tony hovered downward then, trailing sloppy kisses against the younger's now bare chest, taking a moment to lick circles against each of his nipples before continuing south. Peppering more wet kisses across Peter's abdomen and, when he reached his waist, he licked his way down Peter's length, savoring the startled moan that ripped itself from the younger's throat. He smiled as he spread his boyfriend's legs and went even further, kissing beyond the base of his twitching erection, all the way to his untouched hole. 

Peter could feel the heat burning in his face and he would be lying if he said he wasn't a little nervous, especially when Tony kissed him there . “Tony?” His voice cracked.

“Yes, baby?”

“Can you tell me- um ...what you’re going to do?”

Tony blushed at that, pausing his kisses and sitting up on his knees. One hand keeping Peter's legs splayed open and the other reaching for the bottle. “I’m- uh… I’m going to finger you with this first,” He explained, the redness in his cheeks still visible as he popped the cap open. “I'm going to use a lot, so I don't hurt you too much." He brushed his fingers against Peter's entrance, "You’ve never touched here, right?”

“Never,” Peter admitted, his heart thrumming as he watched Tony coat two of his fingers with lube.

“So it’ll probably hurt a little but I’ll be careful, okay?”

“Okay,” Peter breathed, eyes squeezing shut as he felt the cold slick push against him. He held his breath and, with a little more pressure, a single finger was pressing into him, sliding into his tightness with little resistance. 

“How’s this?” Tony whispered, eyes frantically searching Peter's expression for any signs of pain.

Peter exhaled slow, checking in with himself as he did. It didn't feel good or bad, just foreign and unusual. He opened his eyes, gazing up at his boyfriend and speaking an honest, “Uncomfortable.”

“Should I keep going?”

“ Mhmm ,” Peter nodded, giving Tony the go-ahead to continue. 

So Tony pushed his finger deeper before pulling out slow, then he repeated, keeping his motions steady and smooth and careful. For the most part, Peter was silent, save for the small whines that escaped on the tops of his heavier breaths. In the lack of stimulation, his erection had started to soften but he was still very much aroused. The feeling of Tony's eyes on him was enough, especially when he was staring like Peter was the only thing in the world worth looking at. And between the sultry gaze and the gentle finger fucking, Peter's arousal was burning hot. It's not that bad , he thought, but the addition of another finger had him wincing.

“Wait-! Tones,” Peter flinched, reactively tensing at the pain of being stretched but fighting against the impulse when the tension only made it hurt more. “I-It hurts.”

“Okay, okay,” Tony eased, stopping his motions but keeping his two fingers halfway inside. “Is this fine?”

“Yes,” Peter’s breath was sharp on the inhale and shaky on the exhale. “J-Just don’t move.” He instructed as he forced his body to relax. The pain was not unbearable but, as a couple of minutes ticked by, the panicked thoughts swarming his mind started to be. Why do two fingers hurt like this? How am I going to fit more? Is Tony getting impatient? Is he bored with me? Is this supposed to feel good? Is something wrong with me? Peter shook his head, whispering a quiet, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” Tony immediately retorted. “If it hurts, it hurts.”

“I know but I-” Peter struggled on his words, trying to ignore his insecurities. “I just really want to make you feel good.”

“You are,” Tony leaned down, smirking as he pressed a kiss against Peter’s lips, pulling away just enough that the tips of their noses barely brushed together. “I could come just from watching you.”

“ Tones ,” Peter whined, averting his eyes, trying to hide his flushed face. “I’m serious.”

“I know but just don’t worry about me right now,” Tony asserted as he sat back up, careful to keep his fingers still. “We’re on your time, sweetheart. Take as long as you want.”

Peter locked eyes with Tony’s patient ones, feeling his anxiety ease as he did. The older boy really was just waiting, one hand gently massaging the sensitive skin of Peter’s inner thigh and the other exactly where he was told to leave it. Peter took a deep breath, actively convincing his muscles to relax and realizing that the pain was absent when he remained calm. So he breathed a quiet, “You can move them.”

And Tony nodded, wordlessly moving to squeeze more lube at Peter’s entrance before pushing his fingers in the rest of the way. Falling into the same steady pattern as before, attentively watching as Peter relaxed around the gentle finger fucking. And once Peter felt loose enough, Tony added more lube and another finger. This time, it was a painless stretch.

“Baby, you look so fucking gorgeous right now,” Tony praised as his eyes glanced across Peter’s pliant body. “You’re doing so good, you're taking my fingers so good.”

Peter’s entire body reacted to Tony’s words – even his waning erection twitched at the sound of them. “It’s for you,” Peter breathed out, his voice low and airy.

“Hm?” Tony asked, his brow slightly furrowing.

“I’m doing good for you, Tony.”

“Fuck, sweetheart, you can’t talk to me like that. It’s gonna go to my head, make me lose my patience.” Tony gave a sly smile as he started curling his fingers, slowly prodding upward, searching and seeking, like he was trying to find something and – fuck.

An unexpected jolt of pleasure hit Peter so hard that, as he moaned, his voice cracked and the sound he made came out like a strangled whimper. The intensity of the feeling left him dazed, unable to process just how good it felt because Tony’s fingers were suddenly colliding with that spot again. It was almost overwhelming; a pleasure that operated somewhere between his typical orgasms and some fictional unattainable euphoria. Yet, judging by the way his hands clawed into the sheets, and the way his back arched, and the way he couldn’t exhale without a whine, this pleasure trended towards the latter.

Tony playfully grinned, unrelenting in his assault on Peter’s sensitive bundle of nerves. “Is it good, baby?” He asked as he upped the ante, bringing his free hand to stroke along his boyfriend’s stiffening length.

“ Tony !” Peter’s hands shot down, clutching at Tony’s wrist, urgently pulling his hand away from his erection. “W-Wait, I’ll come-!”

“That wasn’t an answer, sweetheart.” Tony clutched the base of Peter’s dripping length and massaged his thumb across the wet tip, syncing his teasing with each thrust of his fingers.

Peter released a gasp that quickly morphed into a harsh moan. The heady feeling left him frantically squirming backward, trying to evade the fervent pleasure but finding himself propped up on the pillows, trapped between the headboard and his boyfriend’s torturous hands. “It’s good!” He choked out, all teary-eyed and desperate. “Tony, I- ah! Can I c-?”

“I want you to beg for more,” Tony interrupted, slowing his hands before pulling away entirely, watching with a smirk when Peter’s hips flinched to chase the contact. “Will you do that for me, baby boy?” He asked as he leaned forward, holding himself steady with one hand and placing the other against his boyfriend’s throat, squeezing just enough to make his breaths come out shallow. “Will you beg me to fuck you?”

And Peter, whose eyes were blown from the stagnant bliss, immediately did what was asked of him. “ Please .” His voice came out slightly hoarse, strained by the pressure against his neck. “Please fuck me.” He begged, keeping his eyes trained on his boyfriend’s face. “I-I want it...your dick...inside me, please .”

“Fuck, I want to fucking ruin you,” Tony whispered, using his grip on Peter’s neck to guide him into a harsh kiss before pulling away and releasing his hand. “And I don’t think you understand how much.” Then he took a deep breath and smiled. “You’re such a good boy for me, Peter.”

Peter’s heart was racing and his face was warm and his erection was aching; Tony just had that effect on him, especially when he spoke like that. “Tones, please …” He whined, eager and pouty, like he couldn’t wait another second. 

Tony laughed low, excitedly moving to pull off his boxers before returning to his place between Peter’s legs. 

And just like the first time he’d seen it, Peter had to actively prevent his jaw from dropping. Tony’s dick was big, thick, hard – basically everything Peter wanted when it was being shoved down his throat. This, however, was much different. A shiver ran through his body at the thought of it in his ass. “Is it going to hurt?” He asked on impulse.

“Maybe a little.” Tony was honest. “I stretched you a lot but it could still be uncomfortable,” He explained as he rolled on a condom and slicked on some extra lube. “But I’ll be gentle,” He said as he positioned himself at Peter’s entrance. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

With a small push, the tip slid right in, popping inside without resistance like Peter’s body had been used to it forever. The feeling was hot and tingly, but Peter remained calm, attempting to keep his muscles from going rigid as Tony kept going. Halfway in was more of the same but beyond that was an uncomfortable pain. Not a sharp or stinging kind of pain, but a dull and throbbing one that left Peter flinching and sucking air through teeth.

“You okay?” Tony asked as he stopped his advances, dragging a tender hand through Peter’s hair. “Is this too much?”

“No,” Peter shook his head, reaching to hold Tony’s hand. “Don’t stop, keep going, I can take it.”

Tony’s breath hitched, his resolve to be gentle faltering under the weight of Peter’s tempting words. “You want the rest of it, baby?” He asked, squeezing Peter’s hand before he pulled away, hooking his arms beneath Peter’s thighs and gripping at his waist. 

“Yes,” Peter murmured, moving to clutch at the pillow above his head, bracing himself.

So Tony pushed forward again, quicker than before, plunging deep enough to rip a loud groan from the younger boy. And then he held himself there, indulging in the pleasure of his boyfriend’s tightness, his voice strained, “How’s this?”

Peter felt like the wind was knocked out of him. The swift thrust left him tremoring around the thickness, panting like Tony’s dick had stolen his oxygen and replaced it with the strangest blend of pleasurable pain. The drag of the shaft against that bundle of nerves was what did it; he was sure, especially when Tony moved to pull out and the sensation was enough to make him feel like he was going to come. “I l-like it, Tones. It feels g-”

Peter couldn’t finish his sentence as Tony started pushing back inside. The thrust was just as fast as before, leveraged by his tugging at the younger’s waist and fueled by the ecstasy buzzing within them both. So Tony repeated his thrusts in quick succession, pulling out halfway before rolling his hips and burying himself back inside, occasionally pulling out until just the tip remained so Peter could catch his breath.

And Peter could tell with one glance that Tony was melting in the sensation; his eyes were half-lidded, his hands were gripping bruises, his forehead was beading sweat. The way his body flexed was pornographic, making Peter’s already stiffened length even stiffer, and the force of his motions was eager, overexcited, indulgent. Yet, none of that could compare to the sounds he was making. Peter had never heard Tony moan like this; so unbridled and honest. It left him leaking pre all over his stomach.

But Peter couldn’t come – not because Tony had not given permission, but because he couldn’t. The pleasure was there but orgasm still felt far away, like all he needed was just a little more. Just a little .

“Hey!” Tony grabbed Peter’s wrists, yanking them above his head and pinning them there with a single hand. “Who said you could touch yourself, hm?”

Fuck. Peter was so wrapped up in the feel of it all that he didn’t realize his hands had started moving toward his erection. “S-Sorry, I just...it wasn’t enough.” He blushed, his heart racing at his boyfriend’s strength.

“What?” Tony gave a mischievous grin, shifting his weight against Peter’s crossed wrists and bringing his free hand to Peter’s throat. “You want more?” He asked as he squeezed, laughing low when Peter gasped. “I’m not going to be gentle anymore, Peter,” He whispered, “Let me know if I should stop and I will.”

And when Peter nodded, Tony let loose. Keeping his grip at Peter’s throat steady as he slammed all the way to the base, pulling out almost entirely before driving back in. Besides the amount of force, Peter thought it would feel the same. He was wrong . So fucking wrong. This pleasure was different – different enough to leave Peter screaming – and the only changed variable was the angle. Tony wasn’t just rubbing against his prostate anymore, he was practically brutalizing it. Each thrust hitting it so directly Peter wondered if pleasure was even the right word anymore because, for him, it felt euphoric.

“This enough for you, baby boy?” Tony teased, loosening his grip on the younger’s neck as he continued his fervid assault.

Peter wanted to be playful, challenging, witty, but the only words he could manage were coated in a desperate need for release. “ Yes , T-Tony, can I- please, can I come? P-Please, please .”

“Sure, sweetheart,” Tony finally gave in, releasing Peter’s wrists and using his hand to stroke at the neglected cock. “Since you asked so nicely,” He rubbed his thumb against the head, keeping his thrusts steady. “You can come.”

And Peter did. He came harder than he ever has. All shaking and screaming and teary-eyed as his cock pulsated, shooting thick lines of cum against his stomach and twitching when Tony milked out the rest. The aftershock had him dazed and sensitive, even Tony’s touch burned with an agonizing bliss. All he could do was lay there, trembling around Tony’s dick, which remained buried deep inside of him.

“Look at you,” Tony breathed out, grinning sly as he smeared his hand through the cum. “You think we’re done?” He shook his head, bringing his wet hand against Peter’s face and rubbing it across his cheek and lips. “All that talk about wanting me to feel good, but here you are, looking fucked stupid.”

“I’m not done,” Peter exhaled, tongue darting out to lick the mess on his lips, challenging his boyfriend despite his body urging him to reject more pleasure. “We stop when you say stop.”

“Big talk,” Tony gave a light laugh and then, without warning, he lifted Peter by the waist and flipped them over. “Let’s see you back it up,” He said as he ran his fingers up the younger’s thighs. “Ride me.”

When Peter felt the gravity keeping Tony’s dick buried inside, his body screamed with overstimulation and, judging by the smug grin plastered across his boyfriend’s face, it must have shown. He didn’t care. Instead, with the goal of making Tony come at the forefront of his mind, he pressed his hands against the older’s chest, lifted his hips halfway up, and dropped them back down.

“ Fuck ,” Peter muttered under his breath, wincing from the overwhelming spark of pleasure. “Like this, Tones?” He whined as he repeated his motion, moaning and letting his hips fall into a rhythm. 

“Yeah,” Tony groaned out as he skimmed his fingers to the sides of Peter’s thighs, which would tremble after each drop. “Just like that,” He assured, his eyes flickering between Peter’s lust drunk face and his diligently working hips. “Tell me how you feel, baby boy.”

It wasn’t a question – Peter knew that – but his focus was on keeping stable, fighting through the sting of breathtaking stimulation as he vigorously bounced his hips. So, instead of obeying, he took a page out of his boyfriend’s book and talked. 

“Are you going to come inside me, Tones? Are you going to give it to me? Fuck, I want it so bad. I want your cum, Tony. You feel so fucking perfect. You stretched me so well. Look how good I fit around you now.” He managed to say it all confidently, despite his slightly ragged voice.

And it paid off because, soon after, Tony was coming. Peter could feel the warmth of his climax filling the condom inside. It was a strange but gratifying feeling, only improved by Tony’s blissed out expression.

Peter carefully lifted himself off and collapsed against the sheets. He was covered in a sheen of sweat and panting. The aftermath of his orgasm still imprinted on his senses. His body felt floaty and, if he even thought about the pleasure he had experienced, a wave of chills would quake through his body like a visceral reaction to being so utterly pleased. “Is it always like that?”

Tony breathed a short laugh, looking just as wrecked as his boyfriend. “Fuck. I hope so.”

Peter giggled as he scooted closer, draping his arm across the older’s torso, “So you liked it?”

“Yes,” Tony answered without hesitation. “Holy shit, baby, of course, I did.” He stressed as he eased into the cuddling, wrapping his arms around Peter’s waist. “Did you?”

“Yes!” Peter exclaimed but quickly lowered his tone, blushing at his overexcitement. “It was good. Really good. You’re really good. Like almost too good.”

Tony snickered, “I’m glad, especially since I ticked every box but the one.”

“What?” Peter was confused and then he wasn’t as he remembered his drunken list of wants. “Oh. Oh! ” His blush deepened as he nervously shook his head. “You don’t have to check that box if you don’t want to. We have plenty of time to say it later. Honestly, it’s okay.”

“But I want to and you deserve it,” Tony whispered. “Because you mean everything to me, Peter.”

Peter was stunned by his boyfriend’s candid words and his heart pounded in his ears as he responded with a quiet, “I do?”

And Tony just nodded and leaned in for a kiss, pouring his emotions into the gentle contact and, as he pulled away, he whispered it . So perfect and meaningful that Peter almost burst into tears as he shakily reciprocated. The soft laughter that followed kept him grounded as Tony said it again and again and again. The moment was special. Precious. 

And it was theirs, and theirs alone.

-

[3frogperson3]

Hey,since mothers day is coming up I thought I'd address something .

Tw:mentions of abuse.

You're mom isnt entitled to see you on mothers day if she has abused you in any way shape or form. Just because she gave birth to you doesnt makeup for anything,whether physical, sexual, or psychologically, she has done to you.

I don't care who you are,nobody should be forced to talk to or spend time with there abuser because of a title that person has. If your mom abused you,she doesn't deserve the validation of seeing you.

And I know alot of people are under 18 and dont have much of a choice on the matter(myself included) , so mothers day is kind of suck-ish.

Theres not a whole ton of advice that I can give,other than that your mom isnt deserving of you and the praise she gets if she's done nothing but cause trauma.

(Sorry this is a little less lighthearted than any of my other posts,its just something I have alot to say about because it hits close to home. Stay safe out there!)

[gnxjun]

Hello! So I just wanted to start off by saying that I’m not exactly new here, Taejun is just a second muse of mine that I’m excited to have here. ^^ But anyway, I’ll list some things below to know about him and I’ll update it later with some plot ideas as well after I’ve had some sleep.... I forgot to get his profile page done so I’ll get that done sometime tomorrow though he does have his background (along with some basics + relations so far) here if you’d like to check that out in the meantime!

some facts:

he’s a family advisor of the park family

he’s the han canon which means he’s secretly dating @gnxeran

he won’t admit his feelings towards her to himself or even her really because he believes it’s just his ‘physical attraction’ to her (which it’s obviously more than just that of course)

his goal is to either sit on the throne himself or help Eran get there (also lying to himself yet again for this being the reason why he’s even dating her he should just admit his feelings tbh)

{tw:mentions of abuse} his father is VERY strict and set on Jun gaining power and wealth so there are times when he will physically beat/abuse Jun as ‘punishment’ when he thinks that his son is slacking but will only leave any sort of marks or bruises in places that can easily be covered up with clothing.

his mother just stands by and lets this happen because she’s the same really.

his father has told him over and over again to help out a royal family member who actually has a chance at the throne but Jun still insists on helping Eran out and staying by her side

he believes he won her over by his charms really (did he though? ;D)

mainly his goal is to gain power and he’ll stop at nothing to achieve this really, he also won’t let anyone get in his way of doing this.

his family isn’t exactly poor nor are they extremely wealthy, they do have money but his parents put into his head that the only true goal in life is to sit on the throne so he as soon as he was old enough he got a job as a royal advisor just for this reason alone, becoming just like how his parents are when it comes to wanting more

but yeah, he’s something..... lets definitely plot though! <3

[dipolardruid]

Okay so how would the yandere step-mom react to reader moving out to live with her bio-mom? Something tells me that it wouldn’t go well

Anon you just grabbed a big pot of boiling oil and used water to really set it a blaze.

TW:Mentions of death and robbery, Mention of reader being tied up

Betrayal is all she felt how could you, she did her best to care and love you.

Made sure you wanted for nothing when your father couldn't afford a new bed set and the clothes on your back, she was the one to buy them for you, when you were being bothered at school she handled it, when you were late for the bus she would risk being late for work to take you, when you wanted something she made sure to get it.

And this is the thanks she gets being abadoned for a woman who left you for 7 years not even bothering to think of the consequences it would have on you, wouldn't go well is an understatement.

In her mind her child was taken away from her by an abusive and manipulative woman who couldn't care less, you were manipulated into turning your back on her after all you're still a kid who doesn't know better so at first she'll stay calm and quiet comforting your father and let you have your fun with your mother but when you least expect it she'll strike.

Arson, robbery,harrassement,stalking,assualt nothing is out of the picture when it comes to getting back at your mother, she'll ensure you mother is so traumatized that she wouldn't even be able to leave the house and neglect her duties and that's just no way to have a child live, they need stability and routine.

If all this fails to break down your mother Betra will start getting bolder more aggressive she'll ensure your completely safe physically anyways until she personally takes a hand in getting you back a failed robbery is what everything will look like.

She'll let the ones who are helping her with the plan take whatever they want as long as you're untouched and unharmed while also leaving your mother to her all it took was a hammer and some rope at the end of it your mother was unrecognizable you crying in your bedroom tied up the house almost cleaned out.

It wouldn't be until the morning when one of your neighbors saw the broken front door and nearly empty house with a foul stentch that it'd all start to come crashing with how brutal the attack against your mother it would be deemed a trageted attack but with no witnesses other than you or proof of the attack being made by Betra or your father there wouldn't be much to go off of other then a robbery gone wrong.

Due to this you'd end up traumatized with growing problems with crimes happening this one would top the list, leaving you afraid to even leave the house and highly depend on being by either Betra or your fathers side better if both were there.

Don't get her wrong she regrets the terrible effect it had on you but in the end you're back and more dependent then ever, you don't reject her, you always want to be by her, even go as far as to sleep in the same bed as her and your father, how happy she is especially when you trust her enough when you have panic attacks and go to her for comfort, she simply can't help it now you won't want to leave again who would you go to?

The family of your mother who seem to be struggling to the point of homelesses and can't afford to take you in? So it would be for the best if you just stayed there at home with her and your father they'll keep you safe, that's a promise.

Request are open!

[interstellarflowers]

Westside: Evan Hansen x Reader (Part II of Pretending)

THIS IS PART TWO OF PRETENDING !! PLEASE READ THE FIRST PART FIRST!!

Part 1

Really quick author’s note, sorry!! Okay so this is the second part of Pretending!! Please go read that one first if you haven’t already read it thank you!! Also this second part is inspired by the song Westside by This Wild Life, which my wonderful wonderful long distance best friend Alex showed to me. Personally this song hit me super hard and I thought it would be perfection for this second and final part of this series, yee!!  Also to increase enjoyment whilst reading this, I suggest you listen to the song!! As always thank you so much for the support and for reading my fanfiction!! 

 westside: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1fFPyK1iwus

TW:mentions of abusive relationship, depression, suicide

If any of you find yourself to relate to the abusive aspects in this fic with someone in your life, or are in an abusive relationship I urge you to contact the abuse hotline: 1-800-621-HOPE Word Count: 3049

Your head fits right into my shoulder

My hands feel cold but yours feel colder

And you're burning up inside

I see the pain behind your eyes

A few months had gone by. A few months of avoiding Connor at all costs, and withdrawing yourself from your former friend group. The seperation was painful, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to be drawn in again by Connor. You knew that if you went back, you would never come back. You wouldn’t allow yourself to return to that mess that you had dared to call a relationship. You held on for so long, and the release was painful but very necessary.

You had cut all ties, except for Evan. Evan had been here the whole time, aiding in cleaning up and piecing yourself back together.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Your train of thought is broken as you look up to respond to Evan,

“Nothing.” you respond and then turn back to the movie. Evan shoots you a toothy smile, and then turns back to the screen as well.

“Mr.Stark...I don’t wanna go..” whispers out spiderman from the television’s speakers. You turn to your right to look at Evan, who has tears brimming in his eyes,

“No,” Evan says his voice cracking, “He didn’t want to go!!” You giggle a bit, and throw a pillow at Evan,

“Stop crying!” you yell at Evan still giggling, “If you cry I’ll cry!”

“I’m sorry (y/n),” starts Evan in a very serious tone even though he was very hard to take seriously as more tears slowly dripped down his face, “But Peter Parker was just a kid, and he deserved better.”

“You’re right,” you nod in agreement, “But, I don’t feel like crying tonight Ev!!”

“Fine, fine.” says Evan as he shuts off Infinity War, “What time is it?”

“It’s 4:00am,” you respond clicking off your phone, “I’m not tired though.”

“I’m not either,” Evan plops back down next to you on the couch and gets that serious look on his face again, “(Y/n), I want to talk to you about something seirous.”

“Yes, Evan, I know,” you laugh a little, “Peter Parker was a kid, and he did deserve better, I’m not disagreeing I’m just-”

“No, like for real, I have a serious question,” Evan messes with his hair a bit before making eye contact with you again, “I um…”

“Evan, I’m right here,” you say gingerly placing your hand on top of his, “You’ve helped me through so much, you can tell me anything.”

“Thanks (y/n), you’ve helped me through a lot too, with the anxiety stuff, but I uh,” Evan runs his hand through his hair again, a nervous habit of his, “I kind of like you and I think that maybe we could try-”

“Ev,” you cut him off, “You know I love you. But you also know I’m just not ready for that again.”

“I know,” Evan continues, “I’m sorry. I promise though, I would never hurt you, I’m just me. Y’know?”

“Yes Evan I know. You wouldn’t hurt me but,” you pause to regather yourself this isn’t exactly your favorite topic of conversation, “There’s still Connor. And I just…” You reach up to touch your cheek again, and remember exactly what it was like. Reliving it in your head, rewinding that moment and then replaying it like you do in the quiet of your bedroom when you’re alone and can’t sleep.

“Hey (y/n),” Evan says softly while taking your hand away from your cheek and into his, “It’s fine. I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to make you nervous, it was stupid. I’m sorry.” You nod and give Evan a hug, and you both sit there for a while. Both of your minds racing with a million and one thoughts.

“Nobodies ever going to hurt you again (y/n),” Evan whispers into your hair, “I’m here for you no matter what.”

“I know Evan,” you pauses and grip him a little tighter, “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me nerd,” Evan breaks the embrace and shoots up from the couch, “That’s what best friends are for! Now what flavor ice cream do you want?”

I know my hands can't help from shaking

I can't stand thinking of him taking

The safety in your head

The comfort of your bed

That’s how your good nights went, the ones spent with Evan that is, any other night was kind of a nightmare. The same thing over and over, a replay of your relationship with Connor, followed by a quite harsh and literal slap back into reality. You would wake up, sweaty, breathing hard and clutching your face. Of course it physically pained you when Connor raised his fist to you those couple of months back, but what hurt an unimaginable amount was what came with the raising of his fist. Such a simpe movement, with such extreme consequences. Such an action shouldn’t be real, but unfortunately it was. You wanted to forget, to move on, to allow yourself to be happy, maybe even allow yourself to be with Evan, but every night you closed your eyes all you could see was Connor’s cold eyes, and his fist sailing towards your face, and there you were again laying in bed with shaking hands and darting your eyes across the room in fear that he was right there in the shadows and ready for a confrontation.

We were too young to drink, too drunk to drive

Too young to feel these things inside

The westside's always pulling your burden straight into my current

She said it's too hard to comprehend

You were sitting in your room at 6:30pm on a Friday night when your phone vibrated, signaling a text message, most likely from Evan.

Jared

Hey dork! Long time no talk! There’s a party tonight, and I’m forcing Evan to come with, and you’re no exception! See ya in fifteen!

It was not from Evan. Jared fucking Kleinman. What a douchebag. You scrambled out of your desk chair nearly knocking over your pencil holder. Fuck. You don’t want to go, you don’t like parties, and parties don’t like you. You look down at what you’re wearing, yeah, you’re pretty sure that you can’t wear Hello Kitty pajama pants to a party. Fuck.

You’re just making it out of the door as a red car pulls up to your house and gives a good ten second long honk of the horn as you open the car door and get inside,

“Jesus fuck Jared,” you glare at him through his rearview mirror, “You saw that I was coming out of my house, why would you honk like that?” Jared smirks at you and just shrugs. What. An. Ass. You turn to Evan and whisper to him, not bothering to look behind you into the other three seats in the back of Jared’s Honda,

“I don’t want to go,” you say into Evan’s left ear, “I hate parties with a burning passion.” Evan nods in agreement and then whispers back to you,

“I don’t want to go either, but he sat outside of my house for twenty minutes honking his horn until I agreed to go.” You give Evan a look of sympathy and then hear a cough from behind you. Your stomach drops, and your feet turn to ice as you shift in your seat a bit, only to be met face to face with: Connor fucking Murphy. Shit. You turn around and almost give yourself whiplash in the process, gripping Evan’s hand tight you grab your phone out of your pocket and begin texting him,

(Y/n)

You didn’t tell me Connor was here!

Evan

I was going to but I didn’t want to scare you at that moment

You groan under your breath, and your hands start shaking again. It’s like one of your nightmares but nearly 1000x worse, because you know you can’t wake up. You’re not stuck in a dream. He’s here. He’s right there. He’s right behind you, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Of fucking course.

I just wanna feel safe again

The westside's always pulling, but you could never be a burden

It's alright, it's alright

“Make a right turn on Blossom Street in two miles, and your destination should be ahead on the left.” The ancient G.P.S. in Jared’s car announces. The ride to what was allegdly “the biggest party of the year,” (according to Jared at least), was about fifteen minutes long. However, it felt like an eternity. The whole time all you could focus on was Connor’s eyes staring at the back of your head. Fuck Jared, man, fuck Connor, fuck this party.

“We here!” Jared yells a little to loudly, “Get out of my car fuckers!”

“Shut the fuck up Jared,” Connor deadpans as he motions over to some girls, “They can smell your stupidity.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jared rolls his eyes, “Whatever, at least I don’t look like a school shooter.”

“What the fuck did you just say to me Kleinman?” Connor steps dangerously close to Jared, “Wanna repeat yourself?”

“I said-” Jared starts before Alana comes in between them,

“Calm yourselves,” Alana pushes them apart and then looks at both of them, “Can we just focus on having a good time, please?” Connor rolls his eyes and mutters, “fine,” under his breath, and Jared goes on his way in the opposite direction, unbothered, and bee-lining to a group of poor unsuspecting freshmen.

“You alright?” Evan asks looking down at you and smiling softly, “I know that was probably alarming for you, and we can go home if you want, watch a movie-”

“It’s okay Evan,” you cut him off before he can ramble on more, you know he feels bad and he’ll go on forever because of it, “Really it’s okay. I think I saw Zoe here, so maybe we should stay.”

“(Y/n),” Evan frowns, “You know I don’t...like Zoe like that anymore.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. So, now do you wanna ditch?” You look away from him for a second and take in the scene in front of you: making out, grinding, shitty dancing, loud music, far too much axe, hormones, alcohols, weed, and...is that cocaine?

“Yeah, we should probably go.”

“Thank goodness.” Yeah, this was not your scene. Just as you and Evan begin walking back to his house, someone stops you in your tracks.

“(Y/n), wait,” you look up to see Connor fucking Murphy, and decide to push past and keep walking only to be stopped again, “Please.” You muster up all of the courage in your body, and manage to look Connor in the eye, “What.” Evan shoots you a look and you motion for him to go on without you,

“Connor,” Evan looks at you again, then turns back to Connor, “Lay off.” You could tell that Evan was uncomfortable and felt nervous, but he cared about you and was mustering ever ounce of courage that he had. For you.

“Keep walking Hansen,” Connor shoots at Evan, “I wasn’t talking to you.” Evan goes to say something again, but you cut him off,

“It’s okay Evan,” you swallow your fear, “I’ll catch up with you.” Evan stares at you in disbelief,

“Are you sure (Y/n)?” Evan looks at Connor nervously, “I can stay if you want.”

“It’s okay Evan.” You watch in regret as Evan reluctantly begins to walk away. Fuck. Connor runs his hands through his hair nervously, and looks at you with a softened gaze. Regret in his eyes.

“(Y/n),” you force yourself to meet his face again, “I’m...I know it’s been a while.”

“Yeah, Connor,” you swallow hard, “Four months.”

“Yeah I know. I’m so sorry.”

“I know you are Connor.”

“So, you forgive me?” You sigh and dig your nails into your palms.

Yeah we've gotten a bit older

We've learned to keep our composure

But we can't forget the nights

“No, I don’t forgive you.” You say this with no remorse for Connor. Any that you felt in saying that was wiped away as you reached up and touched your face again.

“...I’m sorry, I really...I don’t know what I was thinking, I was-”

“Connor, I have to go now.”

“No, (Y/n), please. Please. Just listen to me. Five minutes?” You stop and think, you look at Connor. He has dark circles, darker than usual at least, his eyes wild and dull at the same time. He still looked beautiful...But this time, he was tragically beautiful.

“Fine.” A look of relief brushed past his face, before turning serious again.

“I was going through a rough time...It’s not an excuse, I know. It was a rough time, and I chose to not tell you about it, and...and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept anything from you like that. It was just difficult to say anything...It seemed like there was never a right time, it was stuff with Zoe, and my parents, and the meds, and doctors...So many doctors...And I didn’t tell you about any of that stuff. I’m sorry (Y/n), I’m so sorry. I started drinking, and smoking more and I just...I’m better now though, and I...I just want to be good enough for you now, even though I know I’m not, and I never will be. I’m just so sorry.”

You look at Connor again. Really look at him, you study his face, every sharp angle, every soft surface, shadows, highlights. Ridiculousy long eyelashes. Thick brows, bent in confusion and regret. Eyes stained and damaged from years of smoking and crying.

The blue skies or flashing lights

Your voice keeps ringing like a siren

I hear it louder still in silence

Yeah you're tough just like your love

And you've never given up...

Connor opens his mouth as you continue to study it,

“(Y/n),” Connor lets a few tears slip past his mess of wild lashes, “I love you.” You take a final look at Connor and walk away.

You knock on the door lightly, and Evan quickly opens it,

“Thank God!” Evan excalims, “I was so worried! What did Connor-” You cut Evan off by crashing your lips into his. When you both pull away for air you look at Evan, unafraid you softly say,

“I’m ready,” you tear up and kiss Evan again, “And I love you.” Evan smiles wider than you’ve ever seen him smile before.

I just wanna feel safe again

The westside's always pulling, but you could never be a burden

It's alright, it's alright

“I love you too, (Y/n),” he pulls you into a tight embrace, “I love you so so much.” Inside of Evan’s arms you realized that you’ve never felt safer anywhere else, this was where you belonged.

Monday rolled around, and you found yourself to be fine for once. No worries, no dread. Just peaceful, and finally okay. You walked into the doors at school and all you could feel were eyes on you. Suddenly you didn’t feel so at peace anymore, people were whispering, and all had looks of dread on their faces, what the fuck was going on? Some girl, whom you believed to be Veronica from literature, who you never really spoke to began to approach you,

“I’m really sorry.” You look at her in confusion as she looks down again, and begins to walk away. What’s going on? You open your mouth ready to spill about a million questions as Evan cautiously approaches you, before you can say anything Evan speaks,

“(Y/n), I’m so sorry,” Evan pulls you close to his chest in a tight hug, “I’m so so sorry...Connor...He’s gone…”  

You hit me like a headrush, and hurt like a paper cut

You wished you could say that was the day that everything changed, and it did in a way, you guess, but not really. Connor was gone, but it was like he was gone already.

And you're still in my head but just not in my heart

The funeral felt unreal. His death felt unreal. Connor raising a blade to his wrist in a bathtub sounded real, but it all felt unreal. Connor was a constant thought for a while, then a lingering figure, and soon a shadow of a person who you may have known at one point. Because that’s what Connor was, he was a person who you did know at one point, or at least a version of him. That Connor was gone now. Forever.

I mean it when I hope that you're ok

However, you hoped that wherever his forever may be. That it was someplace beautiful.

I hope you've made peace in your own way

You and Evan grew up, and graduated high school together, and then college. You stayed together, built a family together, Made your own beautiful place. At the end of your lives, Evan and you did it how you did most things throughout your lives, together, and your last fleeting thought was of a boy you might have known once, and hopes of seeing him again in some place beautiful.

It’s alright,

It’s alright.

[daisychainsandgreengrass]

TW:mentions sexual assault

From Dr. Eliz Markowitz:

I'm pro-Susan who was sexually assaulted on her way home from work, only to come to the horrific realization that her assailant planted his seed in her when she got a positive pregnancy test result a month later.

I'm pro-Nabeeha who hemorrhaged due to a placental abruption, causing her parents, spouse, and children to have to make the impossible decision on whether to save her or her unborn child.

I'm pro-little Cathy who had her innocence ripped away from her by someone she should have been able to trust and her 11 year old body isn't mature enough to bear the consequence of that betrayal.

I'm pro-Melissa who's working two jobs just to make ends meet and has to choose between bringing another child into poverty or feeding the children she already has because her spouse walked out on her.

I'm pro-Nhi who realizes that she is in no way financially, emotionally, or physically able to raise a child.

I'm pro-Emily who did IVF, ending up with SIX viable implanted eggs requiring selective reduction in order to ensure the safety of her and a SAFE amount of fetuses.

I'm pro-Jessica who is FINALLY getting the strength to get away from her physically abusive spouse only to find out that she is carrying the monster's child.

I'm pro-Vanessa who went into her confirmation appointment after YEARS of trying to conceive only to hear silence where there should be a heartbeat.

I'm pro-Anjaly who lost her virginity in her sophomore year with a broken condom and now has to choose whether to be a teenage mom or just a teenager.

I'm pro-Courtney who just found out she's already 13 weeks along, but the egg never made it out of her fallopian tube so either she terminates the pregnancy or risks dying from internal bleeding.

You can argue and say that I'm pro-choice all you want, but the truth is: I'm pro-life.

Their lives. Women's lives.

You don't get to pick and choose which scenarios should be accepted.

It's not about which stories you don't agree with. It's about fighting for the women in the stories that you do agree with and the CHOICE that was made.

Women's rights are meant to protect ALL women, regardless of their situation!"

#roevwade #prochoice #women #womensrights #mybody #mychoice #TexasHeartbeatAct #Texas #SB8 #MyBodyMyChoice