#yes you must read the caption in a baby voice because there is no other way to do so.

[downtherabbitholewithlucy]

🥰😴Sweepy Wittle Wesley😴🥰

[steddiealltheway]

!!!!! Tw: faked suicide not by Steve or Eddie. There are ⚠️⚠️⚠️ before and after the most graphic parts which can be skipped without needing too much context. I tried to be vague but it can still be triggering. !!!!! (Thank you everyone tagging it as such)

A sort of different type of TikTok Modern AU…

Eddie Munson is a famous rockstar and honestly doesn’t post much on TikTok, but he occasionally finds himself scrolling though the app which is how he finds Steve.

He’s gorgeous. Exactly Eddie’s type with luscious, gravity defying hair, a sharp jaw, pretty lips, and he bets if he had a closer look, Steve would have the most charming eyes. It’s a shame the camera is so far away from him, and Eddie almost wonders why until Billy Hargrove is in the shot.

Eddie’s stomach sours at the sight of the man. Yes, he’s attractive, even Eddie could admit that, but there was something about him that made Eddie feel uncomfortable. Plus, there were a few scandals surrounding the tiktoker regarding previous racist Tweets and comments which he has responded to with a thrust trap to “Nobody’s Perfect” by Miley Cyrus / Hannah Montana.

So yeah. Eddie didn’t particularly like him and the stuff he got away with just because he’s hot.

He tunes back into the video which has him holding his finger to his lips, and Eddie is already rolling his eyes. The caption says, “Pranking my boyfriend, Steve 🤣😱” and Eddie can already tell it has to be fake with all the dramatics that Steve just happens to not see.

But then Billy carefully sneaks behind the couch where Steve is sitting and dumps a bucket full of water and ice onto him which has the man yelling and standing up in shock. He stands still for a minute and then yells, “Why the fuck would you do that, Billy??”

The tone and overall reaction has Eddie actually wonder if the video is fake or if Steve is just a really good actor. But he watches it again and notices that the man doesn’t look toward the camera once and something about that makes him feel really uneasy.

Eddie has to reason with himself, if the man is dating Billy Hargrove then he must not be a great person, and maybe he deserved the bucket of ice water. But Eddie still closes out of the app and tries his best not to think about it.

-:-:-:-:-:-

He opens the app a few days later, having forgotten about the whole incident until he comes across another video by Billy and the word “prank” in his caption catches Eddie’s eye. He sighs wondering why it’s on his for you page, but right before he swipes past it, he catches the gist of the prank.

Billy fills a syringe with mayonnaise and injects it into a donut, and then it cuts to him giving it to Steve from a camera that once again seems to be hidden although Billy keeps glancing at it with a smirk on his face and evil in his eyes. Steve, on the other hand, doesn’t glance toward the camera, but his face lights up with glee when he’s handed the donut. “You got this for me?” He asks in an awe filled tone as if the donut means the world to him.

“Yeah, why don’t you take a big ol’ bite of it for me?” Billy asks, voice low. Eddie watches as Steve shifts uncomfortably and puts the donut down.

“This isn’t another prank, is it? You know I don’t like them,” Steve says which honestly surprises Eddie. His tone is entirely genuine, and he feels like he’s peering in on a private moment.

“Of course not baby. Told you I’d stop,” Billy replies with a big smile.

Eddie can’t help but click on the caption: “Simple prank makes boyfriend storm out!” With a shit ton of hashtags that Eddie doesn’t bother reading.

Sure enough, Steve bites into the donut and immediately spits it out. He doesn’t say a word, just shakes his head and storms out of room.

Billy laughs loudly, “Oh, don’t be like that, babe! You know that was funny as shit!”

Eddie opens the comments, and is surprised to find people actually defending the prank. There are some people who comment shit like, “date me instead! I would never get mad at your pranks 🥵”

There’s only one comment that says, “Don’t really find this funny.” But it’s swarmed with hate comments from Billy’s fans that has Eddie scoffing as he scrolls onto the next video. He watches for a few seconds before scrolling back up when he realizes something. He looks at the date of the TikTok and realizes it was posted the previous month which means…

Eddie sighs realizing that him looking through Billy’s videos will only give him more attention and views, but he needs to know how long this has been going on for. And he really needs to find out if Steve is in on any of it or at least had gotten Billy back.

He begrudgingly clicks on Billy’s profile and scrolls through. He finds several videos with the thumbnail being of Steve mid reaction to a prank, and Eddie notices that every time, the camera is far away, and there doesn’t seem to be a single video of him up close.

The whole thing doesn’t feel right to Eddie. But what can he do about it? It’s not like he can report the videos. He could simply just block Billy and try to forget it all.

He scrolls back to the top and accidentally refreshes the page. He’s about to block him when he notices a new video pop up, where Steve looks like he’s in the middle of a panic attack. Eddie immediately presses on it.

⚠️⚠️⚠️

Billy smiles at the camera, no shirt in sight as he laughs, “This is my biggest prank yet. Steve should be home in less than a minute. And look,” he holds up his phone and shows a bathtub filled with red water that almost looks like blood.

Eddie’s shaky hand covers his mouth. He wouldn’t.

Billy laughs and continues, “I sent him a text that says ‘I’m sorry’ and a picture of an empty pill bottle, and he’s been texting me non stop for the past few minutes. Shit, he’s on his way now so it’s time for me to hide my phone and make this look as real as possible.”

Eddie watches as Billy puts his phone on a shelf and seemingly stacks towels up to cover his phone and hold it in place. He looks away when Billy takes out a bottle of fake blood and stages a suicide. He practically shakes with anger. Steve has to be in on this. He has to just be a good actor.

Eddie’s stomach drops when he hears Steve yelling Billy’s name rushing through the house. He bursts through the door and falls against the wall in shock. “Tell me this is a damn prank Billy. Billy…” he gets closer and shakes him. “Billy!” He yells shaking. “Shit. Shit. No no no. Fuck. What the fuck…”

Steve sits next to the tub and puts his head in his hands having a panic attack. Billy’s eyes open and he winks at the camera before grabbing Steve’s shoulders and yelling, “Boo.” He starts cackling loudly as Steve confusedly looks around trying to catch his breath. “I got you so good!” Billy yells through laughter.

Steve shakily gets up, tears streaming down his face and runs. Billy gets out of the tub and makes his way to his phone. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to him later,” he says with a wink before the video ends.

⚠️⚠️⚠️

Eddie sits as the video reloops. He’s shaking with anger. He doesn’t think as he duets the video and mutes the other audio. “This is the most fucked up thing I’ve ever seen. These ‘couple pranks’ are stupid enough and not funny, but to fake a suicide and call it a joke… you have to be an extra type of fucked up asshole. There aren’t enough words to describe how evil of a human being you have to be to do something like this to someone you love. I don’t care if this is staged or not. This is not okay. And fuck you.” Eddie quickly censors Billy’s half of the video with a note of “watch at your own risk.” He doesn’t care if his manager is pissed or if his account is filled with Billy’s fans hating on him or whatever. He presses the post button and turns off his phone. He needs fresh air.

He grabs his keys, a hat, and sunglasses, and makes his way out of his apartment. Hopefully the damn paparazzi back the fuck off today. He makes it down his street and walks quickly, fuming with anger. He weaves in and out of people and curses the busy LA streets.

He turns the corner and rams right into someone walking at an equally fast rate. He holds onto the stranger to steady himself and keep them up. “Sorry,” the man chokes out and Eddie is about to brush it off when he realizes he recognizes him.

“Steve?” He asks. He knew Billy lived in Los Angeles but he didn’t know he lived so close. The thought makes him kind of sick to his stomach. He thinks he might punch him if he ever saw him in person.

Steve wipes at his face and narrows his eyes at Eddie. “Sorry, do I know you?”

Eddie glances around before lifting up his sunglasses and hat, waiting for Steve to recognize him enough to gain his trust. Instead, Steve just stares at him blankly.

Eddie’s heart races. This has never really happened to him. He puts on the hat and sunglasses sheepishly. “Uh, I’m Eddie. I know you from Billy’s TikToks.”

Steve just tilts his head in confusion. His eyes are red and puffy. He wonders if Billy posted the video so soon after his prank and if Steve is currently in the aftermath of it. “Um,” Steve says and clears his throat, “Was I in the background or something? He told me I wasn’t in his TikToks.”

Eddie’s heart drops. He opens his phone and goes to Billy’s TikTok, ignoring the way his own TikTok is blowing up. He turns his phone to Steve and picks a less traumatizing prank to show him.

Steve grabs his phone and his eyes widen. A look of confusion crosses over his face that slowly turns into realization and numbness. “He’s been using me for views after promising he wouldn’t, isn’t he? I even asked if the pranks were somehow stupid content but he said they weren’t. He…” he trails off and shakes his head. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be unloading all of this onto you.”

Eddie shakes his head. “No, no. It’s okay. I’m sorry that I told you.”

He watches as Steve numbly nods and scrolls presumedly through Billy’s profile. He looks down at the screen and back at Eddie. “Is this you?” Steve asks hesitantly as he turns the phone back to him.

Eddie confusedly looks at his phone and sees that Billy has apparently replied to his TikTok already. Then, to his left, he hears a bit of commotion and sees some cameras flashing. Fuck. “Do you trust me?” Eddie asks.

Steve looks at his phone and back at Eddie.

Yeah, that’s a lot to ask of him. “Okay, how about this? You keep my phone, and we run back to my apartment around the corner and talk in private before we both end up in shitty magazines?”

Steve tilts his head and glances toward where a few people with cameras make their way to them yelling, “Eddie! Eddie Munson!”

“You’re not a famous serial killer or something, right?”

“Musician,” Eddie says and holds out his hand. “One who hates Billy Hargrove.”

Steve looks down at his hand and takes it running alongside Eddie who tries not to think about the stories that might come out of this. Gosh, he thought his biggest scandal would be when he came out as gay.

He makes his way back to his apartment telling his doorman, “Paparazzi! He’s with me!”

Hopper just nods in response and opens the door quickly. Eddie sighs in relief when he makes it through and to the elevator. Steve looks at him and asks, “How offended are you that I don’t know you?”

Eddie laughs. “Mildly, but it’s a relief really.” He realizes that isn’t the biggest concern in the moment and changes the subject. “Are you okay?”

Steve sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He opens his mouth but the elevator dings, and Steve almost looks relieved. Eddie doesn’t press it as he leads him to his apartment. “Make yourself at home. Do you want water, coffee, tea, soda, or anything?”

Steve numbly shakes his head, so Eddie grabs two bottles of water and two cokes from his fridge. He puts them down on his coffee table and sits on the couch, watching as Steve kind of hovers in his living room with his arms crossed. “I won’t bite, and I certainly won’t pressure you to do anything. But you can sit on the couch if you like.”

Steve eyes him and asks timidly, “You’re not in on anything with Billy, right?”

It breaks his heart seeing and hearing how on edge these pranks have made Steve. “Fuck no. I promise on my guitar I have never had anything to do with Billy and I never will. Well… unless you count me calling him out on his shit on TikTok.”

The words seem to get through to Steve who sits down on the couch next to Eddie while keeping his distance. “So… that’s why you were on his TikTok.”

Eddie’s heart hammers. He nearly forgot that Billy had apparently dueted his own video. “Yeah, but it has to be really new because I only posted mine literally a minute before I ran into you.”

Steve looks down at Eddie’s phone still in his hands. “Why?”

“Why what?” Eddie asks genuinely confused.

“Why did you call him out?” Steve asks, not sounding angry just… curious.

Eddie shifts and play with a string on one of the rips of his jeans. “His most recent video with the faked suicide. That wasn’t fucking cool, man. None of the pranks he’s done have been okay. And I’m sorry that you were put through them - especially this last one.”

Steve’s face turns almost white. “He posted that? Was I… was I in it? Like… my entire breakdown was…” he trials off as Eddie slowly nods. “Fuck,” Steve says burying his face in his hands. Eddie is about to apologize or go on a rant about how much he hates Billy Hargrove when Steve asks, “Can I see the video you made?”

Eddie’s cheek flush red, but he replies, “Yeah, uh, I don’t exactly remember what I said because I kind of went into a fit of rage and posted whatever came to mind. But yeah, my password is 051599.”

Steve types the password into his phone, and stares at the screen blankly. He looks at Eddie and asks, “I’m not on social media… ever so… could you show me?”

Eddie nods and slides over until he’s a few inches away from the beautiful man, and he does his best to try not to think too hard about how attractive he finds him as he goes to his profile and presses on his recent video. His nose scrunches up at the sound of his own voice, but he doesn’t disagree with anything he said. Billy Hargrove is a dick.

“Can I see the comments?” Steve asks. Eddie nods and clicks on them.

“Woah,” Eddie can’t help but say as he sees blue checkmark after blue checkmark. The top comments are from @ ronancetheromance with the couple saying: “Only an absolutely vile person is capable of such a fucked up prank. #SaveSteve”. Another from @ willthewise: “remember to comment on here instead of the original video so it can get less attention!! #savesteve”. Several of the rest of the streamers who call themselves “The Party” reply to Will’s with the hashtag “SaveSteve”.

“Who are these people?” Steve asks as he scrolls through the comments. He comes across one from @ billyfan4everandalways saying: “Watch Billy’s new video and stop being so quick to judge!!”

Eddie clicks on the replies, and the top liked one - having more likes than the original comment - is from @ ericasinclair: “that ugly mullet man’s explanation is bullshit and everyone knows it. let Steve talk for himself or I’m not buying it. #SaveSteve #CancelBilly”

Eddie nearly follows the girl, but realizes that Steve had asked a question. “Most of them I don’t know personally honestly.”

“Then why are they defending me? I’m nobody,” Steve says as if it’s a common fact.

Eddie turns off his phone and puts it down, properly facing Steve. “I know I don’t know you well, but you are not nobody. And these people are defending you not only because Billy is a dick, but this prank stuff is abusive and shouldn’t be normalized especially with the following he has. Nobody should go through that.”

Steve turns slightly red and looks away before asking, “Can we watch his reply?”

Eddie shudders a bit at the thought, but turns on his phone and goes to his page. “Are you sure? I haven’t seen it yet either, and I’m a little prone to getting pissed at him.”

“I’m sure,” Steve says and even reaches over to open the video.

Billy still has fake blood on him and is scrubbing it off with an angry look on his face. He looks at the camera every so often, and it’s clear that he’s staring at himself in a mirror. What a fucking asshole. “These pranks are harmless, and even my boyfriend would agree with that. He enjoys them and he makes sure to show me how much once the cameras stop rolling and his shock has died off,” Billy says so with a smirk on his face that sends chills down Eddie’s body. “So, stop making assumptions about me and my boyfriend and keep making shitty music instead asshole.” The video ends with him flipping off the camera.

“Charming,” Eddie comments, pausing the video so it doesn’t endlessly loop, and turns to see Steve’s reaction. He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head.

“He’s lying. I’ve been begging him to stop for weeks. Even slept on the couch in protest. But that last one was the last straw. I just… don’t know where to go,” Steve sits back against the couch and mumbles, “Fuck.”

Eddie shifts and looks at him. “Do you have any friends or family that could take you in?”

Steve laughs humorlessly. “My parent disowned me when they found out I was dating Billy. Didn’t want a bi son ruining the family image. I had to move in with Billy, and he used to be sweet really. Well… I thought he was for the first three months. When his TikTok career took off he moved to LA, and I felt like I had no choice but to go with him. I grew apart from the few friends I had before the move, and I was just stuck with Billy here. And I… I don’t know,” Steve sighs and puts his head in his hands. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to dump all of this on you. I just… haven’t really had anyone to talk to.” The man lifts his head, his eyes are tired and filled with unshed tears. He’s gorgeous really, but that’s the last thing Eddie needs to be thinking about.

Eddie takes a moment to consider things. Steve seems like a good guy. He has plenty of extra room in his too big apartment and money to spare that he doesn’t know what to do with. Honestly, he’s not meant for this lifestyle and never has been. He’s happy that his uncle Wayne is retired and living comfortably off his too big income, but it’s lonelier than he imagined it to be.

And with that thought Eddie tells Steve, “Then live here for a while. No pranks. I won’t use you for clout or whatever. I have a guest bedroom with its own private bathroom, and I usually never have visitors. And I hate parties, so you don’t have to worry about that either. I may be writing songs in the middle of the night, but my music room is fairly soundproof. And trust me, I would appreciate the company or feeling like my money is going toward something important.”

Steve stands up and shakes his head. “It’s okay, man. I don’t want your charity. You’ve already done enough.”

Eddie stays on the couch and says, “Please, Steve, stay a week or just a few days. If you hate it here, I’ll help you get on your way. But trust me when I say you’ll help me too. It’s…” he sighs and runs a hand over his face, “It’s lonely in LA.” He cringes as he quotes the title of his favorite song that he’s written. It’s also his least popular one, but it’s the most honest thing on any of his albums.

“Reminds me of that song,” Steve says with a small smile.

Eddie’s head snaps up. “You know it?”

Steve hums the chorus of Eddie’s song and Eddie joins in. Steve stops to ask, “You know it, too?”

Eddie huffs a laugh. “I wrote it.”

Steve looks at him for a few moments longer with a combination of shock and hesitation. Then he surprises Eddie by asking, “You really wouldn’t mind if I stayed?”

“Not at all. Unless you ended up doing something really drastic like trying to murder me.”

Steve snorts, and Eddie finds it endearing. He tries to shake the feeling away. He can not fall for this man when he’s a guest in his house and especially not after everything he’s been through. But then Steve gives him a real smile and holds out his hand saying, “It’s a deal.”

And when Eddie takes his hand and feels how warm and nice it feels in his, half of him wants to argue that it’s just because it’s been a while since he’s actually had a genuine conversation with another person. But the other half is quick to accept that he’s absolutely fucked when it comes to this stranger that he feels like he’s inevitably going to fall in love with.

[random-mha-thoughts]

Thigh Highs (Part 2)

Characters: Kirishima Eijirou, Shinsou Hitoshi, Todoroki Shouto (bonus!)

Genre: Spice 😏 College AU!

Scenario: Your boyfriend sees you wearing thigh high socks for the first time in your relationship.

PART 1

Word count: 1,655

Tags: @cyanide9602​ @yuki-osaki​​ @liviitehe​​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog​​ 

a/n: Here’s 2 more best boys Sharkbabe and Shinboi, and a small spicier Todo scenario for my fellow Shouto simps 😉 Here are some more boys simping over thicc thighs. Enjoy the spice before I post some angst 😁

And yes, it’s always Todoroki thirst hours hush

Kirishima Eijirou

You have nothing better to do this weekend; assignments are all finished, exams were done for the week, and you really don’t feel like watching or reading anything new.  That last one is particularly because your boyfriend is off doing who-knows-what with his friends.  Thinking about it leaves a frown on your face.  It’s not that you don’t want your boyfriend to have friends - in fact, you were the one who had told him that he was spending too much time with you and he was abandoning his other relationships - but now he was taking it overboard; the entire week he was with his bros and paid no attention to you!

So here you are, rummaging through your closet and drawers putting together some outfits to wear for the rest of the school year just to make yourself feel better.  At least you can look hot waiting for your boyfriend to come back.  You decide to try out a few outfits to match your thigh high socks since you’ve always wanted to try wearing them out instead of just sleeping with them.  A few Instagram posts of them with shorts had caught your fancy, so what’s stopping you from pulling it off?

As you thought, standing in front of the mirror displayed a cute casual outfit that shows off your legs nicely, even if there is a slight digging into your thighs at the tops (thank you thickness).  Playing around with a few poses in front of the mirror led to you taking some pictures on your phone, just in case you needed to remind yourself of the outfits.

And then a splendid idea flashes through your mind.  Pulling up a chair in front of your mirror, you sit down and cross your legs.

Oh my.

The energy this pose exudes is confident, taunting, a classic boss bitch.

And, with a devious smile on your face, you know exactly how you want to use this power.  You send two of the best pictures of you in this position to Kirishima without a caption.  Let’s see what he’s gonna do now.

Not even five minutes later, without so much as a reply, there’s a firm knock at your door.  As soon as you open it, Kirishima whooshes into your room, easily lifting you up in his arms and slamming the door behind him before tossing you onto your bed and hovering over you.  His scarlet orbs flash dangerously, boring into yours and effectively sending a shiver through your body.

“I didn’t know you were so sneaky, babe,” he smirks, leaning even closer to your face, pulling you closer to him using his harsh grip under your thighs, “Sending me a picture like that knowing it would rile me up.”  He places a single searing kiss on your lips before trailing down to your neck, your collarbone, lifting your shirt to place more down your stomach to the hem of your shorts.  “Such a tease.  You know how much I love these thighs.”

Between his voice lowering an octave and the vibrations and kisses against your soft skin, you quiver and squeak out his name only to yelp when his sharp teeth replace his lips.  “No one can see you in these besides me.  Don’t flaunt your legs for anyone else.”  Kirishima leaves more bites along your sensitive, plush inner thighs, marking you as his.  He chuckles darkly feeling your fingers grip his hair, bringing his head level back to yours with a cocky smirk.  “Were you looking for my attention, babe?  Looks like you can’t handle it.”

Shinsou Hitoshi

"Can we not talk about class anymore?  I wanna just sleep and cuddle."  Shinsou's arm over your torso hugs you closer to his body.  His heavy eyelids close and his nose burrows into the crook of your neck.

"You're right, this week was a drag," you chuckle, bringing your hand up to stroke his hair.  "Sleep was nonexistent for both of us."

After the week we've had, it would be an understatement to say we want to sleep the entire weekend away, just to follow the entire routine over again next week, and the next and the next until Finals come up.

I sit up from my bed.  "I wanna show you something, you might like it."

Which is why I believe in breaking up the mundane with a few tricks sometimes.

You tear yourself away from his warmth and roll off the bed, approaching your drawers.  Shinsou lets out a groan from your withdrawal, but keeps his eyes closed.  Poor boy must be tired, you think, Maybe this will cheer him up.  You had seen the cutest pair of thigh socks online that reminded you of your soft, cat-obsessed boyfriend and secretly bought them for an occasion like today where he needed to be cheered up.

You slid them on and stood at the edge of the bed where your boyfriend still has his eyes closed.  Clasping your hands behind your back and trying to suppress the smile on your face, you clear your throat.  “What do you think?”

He cracks an eye open lazily before darting up and blatantly staring at my legs, making me chuckle at his wide eyes.  The socks I found are plain black, but at the top are cat faces complete with yellow eyes, whiskers, a nose, and triangular ears.  Running his tongue across his bottom lip, Shinsou glances up at me before flickering back down.   “Why don’t you come over here so I can see them better.”

You crawl back onto the bed, legs outstretched in front of you towards your boyfriend.

But he shakes his head and hums.  “Still too far away, come closer.”  His large, warm hands grip my hips and pull me over so I’m straddling his waist.  “Much better.”

I rest my arms around his shoulders, heat rising to my cheeks as caresses the tops of my socks.  “So?  Do you like them?”

His fingers tug the material.  “They’re cute, I admit.  And soft like a cat.”  The digits ghost up farther towards the middle of my thighs to draw circles on them.  “But I think these are much softer.”  Stroking the skin and grasping some of the plushness, “They do make your legs look more delicious than usual.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, tightening your grip around his neck and turning your face away.  “This isn’t the response I was expecting.”

Shinsou uses the opportunity to latch his lips to your neck.  “Didn’t think you’d rile me up from a pair of socks?”  His thumbs slide under your shorts, squeezing more of your thighs and massaging them.  “I haven’t had my way with you for almost a week.”  He journeys farther down right in the center of your collarbone.  “There’s a lot of pent up frustration in me, and you look too cute for me not to have fun with you now.”

Todoroki Shouto (Bonus scenario!)

You had just discovered the beauty and allure of thigh high socks thanks to Mina.  Putting a pair on was the most magical thing you could have done, and you had to take at least 50 photos of you in them in so many poses, much to your boyfriend’s chagrin.  You’d spent the last ten minutes away from his warmth, leaving him impatient as he watches you enjoy yourself.  All by yourself, ignoring his personal opinion on your new fashion choice.  Todoroki has all the love and patience in the world, but he finds his frustration slowly creeping up on him.

“Love, are you finished yet?”

“Wait, Sho, I just got an idea.”  You pull your chair up to your mirror, sit down, and cross your legs.

Todoroki blood rushes all over his body at an otherwise innocent position, the room suddenly a degree hotter.

He can’t take it anymore.

Rising up from your bed, he strolls over to you and stands behind your unsuspecting figure, still buzzing with excitement over how amazing you look.  “Darling, I think I know the perfect picture you should take,” he states in his normally smooth voice.

You turn around with your innocent, wide grin.  “Really?  Tell me!”

He takes your hand to move you out of the chair before sitting on it himself and tapping his leg.  Tugging your arm down to lean into your ear, his voice drops an octave.  “Come sit in my lap, baby.”

In that instant, your body ignites, responding immediately to his suggestion and taking your seat on him.  His warm hands rest right above your hips as you cross your legs again.  To say the image looks hot would be an understatement.  You’re frozen, captivated by what’s staring back at you.

“Are my hands okay here?”  Your boyfriend’s breath fans your ear.  “Or should I move them?”  You watch as one skids down to rest on one of your thighs, the other sliding up to your waist as his pinky drags the edge of your shirt up to reveal your skin underneath.

“Sh-Shouto,” you squeak, pressing your legs closer together as heat rushing through your body.

His hot lips brush right under the sensitive spot under your ear.  “I thought you wanted a good picture?”  Butterfly kisses slowly trace down your skin.  “Take it,” the command barely a whisper tickling your skin while his hands grip you tighter.  “So you remember who holds you like this, who makes you flustered.”

Your shaky hands press the button, mind clouding over, right before he nips your nape and your hand flies down to grab his hand on your thigh.  Your body is on fire when you turn around, pushing your body flush to his.  Disregarding your phone, you steal Todoroki’s lips desperately, and he smirks at your behavior while his hands squeeze that space where your thighs join your butt.  “Finally got your attention,” he chuckles, realizing his neediness finally reached you as well.

[king-litchi]

Picture source : @Mnine5 (Meijo) in Twitter

Note : actually, it’s not a request but I was bored and I wondered « what kind of person would the SNK characters on the social medias be » - soo here we go

Sorry for my english…I am french and I still learning - please forgive me and protect your eyes 🤧

Warning : (12+) social media can be dangerous

SHINGEKI NO KYOJIN ON SOCIAL MEDIA 💥

Eren

Instagram : friends, family, abs, outfits, travel….king of instagram, super popular on instagram, everyone follow him but he only follows his friends and instagram he finds interesting, over time it has become an influence, Eren has like a million followers on Insta @IamErenJaeger

Snapchat :  « who has a netflix account ? » in story, selfies with friends at all kinds of events, often takes pictures of Mikasa and Armin by surprise, never puts a filter on for him or for the people he snaps, everyone can watch his story and comment (public baby), already received nudes… @ErenJaegeeer

Whatsapp : he is in all group discussions but rarely answers, when he answers it is surely because the conversation becomes funny or because they talk about Jean and then it degenerates (when too far between Eren and Jean everyone leaves the group and they end up « wait…everyone is gone…? ») and a new groupe is created but the fight starts again (others are like « here we go again » )

Twitter :  can easily get upset in a debate, is not afraid to say what he thinks, it is blocked by a lot of people (please take away his twitter), has a large fanbase : Jaegerist (@CaptainFlochForster is the leader fanbase…best to avoid them.) it’s very simple : either you’re wrong or you’re not right @ErenJaeger

Tumblr :  He is not really known on tumblr, follow only his friends and is followed only by his friends. Does a lot of reblog tumblr he likes and post a lot kind of sick jokes like « What is the only dog you can eat? - A Hot Dog » (20 followers…)

Armin

Instagram : sharing photos of his travels around the world, a lot of ocean scenery, monuments like the Eifel Tower, does not put a photo of him or his friends, his instagram is public to share his beautiful photos with the world  (2,5K followers) @ArminVibe

Twitter : Sharing conspiracy theories with other twittos, if by misfortune a conspiracy ends up in TT you can be sure that it will tweet all evening, twitter reveals its dark side, It can deal with all subjects and he’s gonna take his time to make you understand that you’re WRONG @ArminArlett

Snapchat : he doesn’t know why he has a snapchat, if you send him a snap photo he will just look without answering but if you start a discussion he will probably lose your message if you have not recorded (his fault, but he really does not do it on purpose, he does not really drag on this social media)

Whatsapp : quite active on whatsapp, in groups it is the one that stays the longest active, uses a correct grammar, always has time for someone who needs to talk (a colossal heart…)

Tumblr : very popular on tumblr with his famous landscape photos, he also likes to share theories with whoever wants it, has created a discussion group of which Erwin and Hanji are part (these three are often found in several discussion groups…), is subscribed to Annie

Mikasa

Instagram : her account is private (like most of his social medias) if she does not know you be sure that she will never accept a subscription request (and she receives a lot of subscription requests), sometimes post photos of Eren and her, sometimes with Armin and a picture with the whole group together, has maximum 5 publications and has maximum 100 subscriptions and she subscribes to only 25 people (who are they?) and her favorite girl’s band @MikasaAckerman

Twitter : is fan of girl’s band, a twitter just to follow their news, she has already been on top tweet (never knew why and honestly she doesn’t care), her account is totally private but she receives a lot of follow requests (she declines) @MikasaAckerman

Snapchat : does not do a lot of selfie but she likes cute filters, often does black snap with dark quotes « the sun always shines after a dark night » , tends to reply 2 days after being sent a snap (🤡) yet she makes the flames with Eren (already 834 flames) so she just ignores snaps

Whatsapp : she is in full of group discussions, but always reads without answering (”Read”), she often ends up leaving the discussion groups (but there is always someone to add her to the group, often Sasha)

Tumblr : has a fake account, by the way she is super popular, she posts her covers of her favorite songs @Mikasong (fucking great voice), already has a small community

Reiner

Instagram : is totally subscribed to Emily Ratajkowski (but who is not?), was the first happy to know that the likes are hidden, kind to like a lot of ass and body fitness (…<.<) it’s sure Historia blocked him (probably deserved) @ReinerBraun

Twitter : profile photo of a football player, often mentions his friends, and ALWAYS mentions Conny for challenges « Dare or not to ring your neighbor’s door at 3:00am and ask him for sugar », the kind to tweets like « Nicki Minaj or Cardi b ? » @ReinerTheBigBrother

Snapchat : You see this guy who makes a lot of views on snap and who everyone asks for publicity? Yes, it’s Reiner. Become master of the screenshot (already found himself in a complicated situation because of it…this awkward moment where you catch something you shouldn’t capture…), also receives nudes (btw 🤡) he never watches stories @ReineerGg

Whatsapp : he often ends up being ejected from discussion groups for his dubious humour and is often the victim of Ymir’s blackmail (screenshots can be fatal…)

Tumblr : he doesn’t even know what it’s for

Bertholdt

Instagram : has two instagram accounts, the first is his real account, he only follows his friends and is only followed by his friends and the second is a (secret) fan account on Annie Leonhart @fannie-kickass

Snapchat : goes selfie on occasions like birthdays (party) or when he is with friends, likes animal filters, snap everyone and without warning, during the evenings with friends he often finds himself in the snap of everyone without his knowledge and discovers him the next day (sleeper pose) @Berth5

Whatsapp : the kind of person to share a lot of petitions like « Hi, Nolan still needs 300,000 signatures to be able to convince his parents to buy him ps5 » (he can’t refuse to share when asked…colossal heart - like Armin <.<), calm in group discussions (is not the type to get involved in an argument, always remains neutral when the situation degenerates), he often speaks with Reiner privately and gives him advice on how to approach Annie - but by the time he decided to send a message to Annie, she had already deleted the application… (legend says he’s still waiting for an answer)

Twitter : if you identify him in a tweet, it will probably not read it but will still like it (why not), he does definitely part of the commentators of entertainment shows or sports matches @Bertholdt

Tumblr : hesitates to create a tumblr but does not really know what he could talk about

Annie

Instagram : shares his training and does not hesitate to make demonstrations of his techniques, is quite popular on instagram, to a lot of publication, post a photo with his father just after each victory with a caption « It is God who gives » ; already has a good community (320K followers), account is certified

Snapchat : never goes on his account, totally professional use, it is his father who manages his snapchat to post in story the videos her training and his official matches with the caption « Little Rocky 🔥 »

Whatsapp : it ended up deleting the app because too much discussion that ends in spam (it will be for a next time Berth)

Tumblr : her little cocoon where she can be herself, the only social media that has her interest, her tumblr is dedicated to the cat, she is a fan @Kitty-Catnnie , the only person in the group to know her tumblr is Armin with whom she sometimes chat

Twitter : She is still on top tweet despite her « Mikasa vs Annie, who wins ??? », she never tweet but retweet a lot of things especially those of Conny, it happens to like the tweets of commentator Jean

Jean

Instagram : if you want to see his account you must first subscribe, generally accept all requests, send quite a lot of DM like « you wouldn’t have a bandage because I hurt myself by falling in love with you » sometimes succeeds other times it ends blocked ( or screenshots that end up on Twitter) @JeanOfficiel

Snapchat : He was blocked by Mikasa and Eren (not for the same reasons), made the flames with everyone (but the most with Marco), has already tried to snap Mikasa in secret (it is caught in the act), loves selfies @Ihateeren

Whatsapp : the kind who doesn’t look to whom he sends a message and always has the wrong discussion, so becomes panicked « DONT READ!!! » accidentally already sent a nude in a group discussion (unfortunately screenshots have been made) Eren laughed about this story for several months like « How is Jeanbo doing ? He’s grown up since last time? » (he doesn’t talk about Jean…you know…)

Tumblr : he created a popular mini series on tumblr « You prefer…? » and also « If you were… » (the concept is very cool and we can do it with all the subjects), made a lot reblog, reblog ALL covers of Mikasa

Twitter : has been blocked by half of the tweetos sphere after several heated debates, is one of the people who comment on the shows mainly reality TV (he does it with passion) « SANDRA LEAVES WITH ANTONIO W/O MONEY !!!! IT’S A FUCKIIIING JOKE ?????!!!!! #TheVillaOfBrokenHeart2 » or « I’m the only one who hates Mike ? #MonacoShore » , it’s that kind of tweet that Annie likes) @JeanKirschtein

Marco

Instagram : accepts only requests from friends, his account is private, sharing small moments of his life with friends and families, use many hashtag like #AllThatGlittersIsNotGoldEvenJean (but nobody understands what he means)

Snapchat : often comments his friends’ stories, is the kind to come talk to you if you put a dark snap like « cruel world »

Whatsapp : often receives private messages like « Marco, are you there? » it always ends in long discussions (« The confidant ») he knows how to find the right words, it is active and always “available” if someone needs it

Twitter : always makes Jean’s defense on twitter, the kind of person to be part of a fanbase (like HarryPotter), uses hastag LGBT+

Tumblr : super popular on tumblr, he makes headcanons and screenplays of his favorite books, series and movies, has a preference for Yaoi but he can make any request (2K followers) @HalfMan

Conny

Instagram : very very popular on instagram thanks to his account with Sacha where they share their farce and does not hesitate to challenge, they post the pranks they make to their friends (1M followers) they are not yet certified @TwoDummies , he has a second private account :  with just family and friends (arround 55 followers) @hismotherson

Snapchat : the kind of person who does a snap at 2H00 of the mat « who for the flames », has a lot of snap discussions, always makes stories that ends badly like « I’m going to ride a bike » and in his last snap he ends up in emergency… (true story)

Whatsapp : has an unimaginable number of “caption this” for ALL situations, it sometimes created discussion groups (it’s just that it prepares a stupidity) otherwise is not super active but will always answer if it has a message

Twitter : clash with everyone « Your mother was pregnant for 9 months of your big head but you can’t stand a joke ? SHAME » (blocked), king of challenges, makes all the challenges where it is mentioned, retweet all the « Dare or not… » of Reiner, uses a lot of abbreviation, he invented a lot of hastag like #AlphaLevi and people have fun with his hastag

Tumblr : his more than empty tumblr, has no profile photo, and compulsive liker, it’s literally a fake account for liking funny things @JustConny

Sasha

Instagram : receives many comments under the photos of his joint account with Conny like « POTAETOS GIRL WE LOVE U » and « POTAETOS POWER », often pranks and ends up in the account, has a second private instafood account and also post photos with Nikolo @MadamePatate

Snapchat : oh my dear, he gets into a lot of trouble (funny drama) so stay connected for his “Storytime” evenings (we often hear Ymir commenting in the background with sarcasm and Conny’s laugh)

Whatsapp : the kind of person to send in a « bbiad » discussion (I’ll be back in a bit) and never come back in the discussion, written in abbreviation, loves group conversations

Twitter : has disabled twitter because of a "caption” that Conny posted on it (potaetos girl exists thanks to a tweet) but there reactivated a week later, tweets like a dramaqueen « WHAAAAT @netflix SEASON TWO IS COMING OUT TOMORROW BUT NOT TODAY  ???? WHYYYYYYYYY ! I’m never gonna be able to wait till tomorrow to eat my popcorns frkrkellelrlrl BUY ME POPCORNS NETFLIX BUUUY », has already been on top tweet #potatoesgirl

Tumblr : victim of her reputation even on tumblr, reblog a lot of post food and potential future challenges from Conny, often finds “caption this” with her face and always reacts with a more than dramatic surprise « SHIT AGAIN ??! »

Historia

Instagram : receives a lot of DM from people she doesn’t know, never accept them, like all the photos of her friends, you can see her insta only if you subscribe…(15K followers) @RealHistoria

Snapchat : renames all her friends by cute nicknames, the kind that snaps the place where she is or her food with a « have a nice day », queen of selfie, likes the filters

Whatsapp : uses a lot of emoji, hearts have become a punctuation, in group discussions she often comments « Ymir !! » after a sarcastic comment, tries to temper when the situation becomes too stormy

Twitter : avoids twitter like the plague, has disabled her account, reactivates it on occasions before losing interest once again, in fact her account is a fake where she is named @christaLenz

Tumblr : pretty active, committed LGBT+ activist, reblog testimonials, lots of likes, reblog Mikasa covers a.k.a Mikasong

Ymir

Instagram : a lot of photos of Historia (it looks like a fan account), often comments the photos of her friends (unfortunately for them) @Ymir

Snapchat : a lot of selfie with Historia, if a fight or something awkward happens in front of her she will be the first to make a snap (and no scruple to put it in her story), if Reiner is the King of awkward screenshots then she is the Queen for INTENTIONAL screenshots, her memories are filled with compromising photos on EVERYONE

Whatsapp : Do you remember the screenshots on snap? Well it is on Whatsapp that they find their usefulness. Can send them to a discussion group as if nothing had happened but her specialty is a service for her silence (yes blackmail) it’s never anything bad, but enough to piss off the victim (who is often Reiner)

Tumblr : forgot her password and honestly she doesn’t want to find it, why did she tumblr ?

Twitter : she is often upset about debates, often sarcastic in her retweets, « Caption This », always the last word, she is very popular on Twitter, she’s already been on top tweet (because a drama with her identity) @LadyYmir

Levi

Instagram : does not really look at his newsline, Instagram in black and white and very orderly (#GrandArt), his account is public but no one can comment on his photos @LeviAckerman

Snapchat : a block Hanji (too many snap video that turned into spam), to rename all his contacts by nicknames like « Brat Number one », « Brat Number 2 » (etc.) and Zeke « shithead » nothing abnormal, It has already posted a snap of his head in front camera (had not done it on purpose) deleted after realizing…(especially after receiving plenty of notifications), he and Zeke attack each other by proxy story (no one understands…but it’s funny to read)

Whatsapp : is always “offline” or “busy” but will always respond if sent a message, probably blocked Zeke on all social medias

Tumblr : shares his passion for tea and cleanliness, loves the healthy atmosphere of tumblr, has quite a fan, reblog and subscribes to Armin @TeaWithLevi

Twitter : Tweet by accident (in the pocket >.<) like « jf’dyt’rimsjrdy’yfgi » but other thant he almost never tweets, but when he does it is to complain or creepy « today I learned that a lollipop breaks easily like the legs of a clown » (…we don’t want understand), he’s already been on top tweet with the #AlphaLevi like « #AlphaLevi can surround his ennemies. Alone. » ; « #AlphaLevi makes the onions cry » ; « #AlphaLevi can go up downstairs » (we thank Conny for this hashtag) @LeviAckerman

Hanji

Instagram : honestly if you want to do a search on someone you have to check with Hanji, FBI of the net (”the stalker”), its account is public : post photos with Levi (who has to be taken by surprise) mentions everyone on its posts, photo with Moblit during their experiences (like “Break”), its instagram looks cool @OfficerZoe

Snapchat : snap often its scientific experiments (and other) and we always hear Moblit screaming in the background « Hanji-san! Back ! » , they like to comment on the stories of Levi and Zeke, already tried to make the flames with Levi and Erwin (tried without success)

Whatsapp : spends its time doing focus groups before it degenerates, its favorite pairs are Eren/ Jean and Levi/ Zeke but never has a battery

Tumblr : strangely its tumblr is very serious, they share its hypotheses and theories on scientific subjects, they talk about its experiences and future scientific experiments, they post the results of its research, has its own focus group (Erwin is one of them) @DrHZoe

Twitter : @Dr.troublegirl everything is in the pseudo, will accumulate and then become spectator of a massacre, his catchphrase is « you’re implying… »

Erwin

Instagram : it is very orderly and pleasant to look at, post works of art that crosses his path, does not often check his actuality but when he does it everyone is happy…(always the little comment that makes a good mood and a little like)

Snapchat : his story is public but only his “friends” can comment, snap his visits to the museum and snap a lot the streetart but is not really active when he makes “snap discussion” @Eyebrow (account created by Hanji…)

Whatsapp : uses impeccable punctuation and grammar, often discusses with Armin on intellectual topics and confronts their assumption he is the only one who is not part of a discussion group with ALL the characters (just a few groups like Hanji/Levi/Mike), from time to time he receives family photos of Niail and talks about old times

Twitter : activist totally committed to good causes ( #blacklivesmatter) (#justicepourAdama ), retweet the political news, has already tweeted with the #AlphaLevi @ErwinSmitt

Tumblr : pretty active, post on subjects that fascinate him (like history), his tumblr is very interesting and orderly, proposes developed theories and some people (students like Conny) go there to find answers to their homework… @Sasageyo

Zeke / Sieg

Instagram : created an insta to talk with Eren but he got blocked after commenting on one of his photos « Beautiful sweetren, you grow up day by day, signed your beloved brother » didn’t understand why he couldn’t see his instagram after that ; his instagram is very neat : instafood & instabook but doesn’t have many followers because his instagram account is private (like 150 follower) @ZekeJaerger

Snapchat : made stories to address to Eren instead of sending him directly in private (didn’t really understand the concept) that’s how to start the attacks between him and Levi, Eren ended up deleting the app to him

Whatsapp : uses impeccable grammar (also blocked Livai on all its social medias), tends to read without answering « Read since two days »

Twitter :  tweets like « I am now on twitter. » or  « Good Morning Twitter. » and lots of  « Join me on Candy Crush » , he also likes to comment on his favorite culinary shows with a lot hastag, honestly he is one of the people who blocked Eren on Twitter but does not really assume it  « What ? Weird…I must have hit the wrong button… » yes of course… @ZekeJaeger

Tumblr : reblog Erwin’s posts which he finds very interesting, to himself his own theories which he confronts with Erwin in discussion groups, is part of a quite popular team on tumblr “GenshiKyojin”, (with leader Eren Kruger) #uses #too #much #hastag (#like #me) @KemenoNoKyojin

[scoopsgf]

can i get a good night’s sleep? can i PLEASE get a good night’s sleep?!

or: five times peter parker doesn’t sleep + the one time he does

my contribution to the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange! this is for @snarky-drabbles - I hope you enjoy it! 

1. 

The first time is actually just the first in a while. Peter’s had problems sleeping ever since he was a little kid; it was just one issue of many that stacked up on top of each other, resulting in his personal belief that he must be the most difficult kid to look after on the planet.

Asthma meant hundreds of dollars spent on inhalers, covering what their shitty insurance didn’t. His poor eyesight was the same story and the bullies that used to break his glasses had never helped. But it wasn’t just physical crap, of course: he’s had anxiety for as long as he can remember.

There are cute side-effects like panic attacks and nausea, not to mention the constant sense of impending doom he’s been nursing since… well, birth, probably. When he was younger he’d worry about whether or not the taxi driver had enough gas in his car to get them where they needed to go, or maybe Ben would get shot at work (ironically enough, he’d never worried that Ben would get shot off-duty, and there is a teeny superstitious sliver of him that believes maybe if he had considered the possibility it never would have happened, like some kind of a reverse jinx or something).

One of the other cute things that comes along with it is insomnia.

So here he is, pacing in his kitchen at three in the morning because May isn’t home yet.

Her shift ended at two. She’s usually back within a half hour considering the hospital isn’t far, hence his agitation.

He’s tried calling and texting to no avail, and he keeps telling himself that everything is fine, that she probably just got held up; meanwhile his subconscious provides a great slideshow of mental images that speak to the opposite—her getting kidnapped because somehow someone links her to Spider-Man, her getting hit with a car, mugged, shot, slipping on black ice—and that’s actually not far-fetched considering it’s January, there’s a lot of it, and so he pulls out his phone and types, You didn’t slip on black ice and die did you? to May.

No little dots appear to signify that she’s typing. The message doesn’t even change from ‘delivered’ to ‘read’.

She has her read receipts on. She’s promised him. There’s no reason she’d change that, right? But maybe she accidentally switched them off when she was scrolling through her settings.

He calls her.

“Hi, this is May Parker, I’m unavailable at the moment but if you leave me a message I’ll get back to you as soon as—”

Peter hangs up with a dissatisfied grunt.

It’s only then that he realises, to his great dismay, that he’s paced all the way onto the ceiling.

In his shock he loses concentration and falls. “Ow, fuck.” He pulls his aching knee to his chest. It’ll no doubt be bruised soon. “God has forsaken me.”

He picks up his now cracked phone and texts Ned:

I just fell off the ceiling at 3 AM in the morning

Don’t ask me what I was doing on it

Every bone in my body is broken :(

No reply comes which is pretty typical; Ned probably passed out in front of his PC like, hours ago. Peter can picture it: the light of his computer screen casting a blue glow over everything in the room, his head probably tucked into his arms to muffle his snores (and there’s also probably a bowl of stale popcorn spilled across his floor at this point), his creepy mother lurking in the doorway—or worse, trying to find out how to snoop through his laptop while he’s out of it.

Peter could totally go swing down there and help the guy out. It would be something to do anyway.

But no. The door is too far. His suit… too much work. It’s definitely better to just stay here curled up under the table like a little turtle.

But wait—a blanket.

Is it worth the effort? Probably. Peter scans his immediate surroundings and, oh boy, Lady Fate is actually on his side tonight because there’s a gigantic purple fluffy one hanging off the couch and it only takes a little bit of physical exertion to yank it down and wrap it around his body.

He burrows deeper into it and scrolls through Instagram. MJ posted a picture of a banana today. Literally like, just a banana. No caption, no explanation on her story, nothing.

Peter double taps it and comments: i hope u asked before u took his jacket

No like. No reply. That makes sense. It is three in the fucking morning, after all.

No. Three thirty. It’s been an hour and a half.

What had May said once? That it was okay to call someone if she was two hours late?

Peter tries texting and calling one more time and then just sits there, staring at his home screen and watching the minutes pass. At exactly four AM after much deliberation and stomach churning, he calls someone else.

Three rings later: “I’m in Vienna right now so this better be good.”

Peter feels even more nauseous than before. “Oh,” he says. “I guess—never mind, then. Sorry.”

“Wait, wait, that was just for show and I’m greatly intrigued as to why you’re calling me so… early? Late? Anyway I’m out of the conference room now so lay it on me.”

Against his will, Peter’s lip quirks up. “Um, it’s kind of stupid—”

“Nothing is ever stupid,” Tony says. “Especially when it’s coming from the brain of a kid with an intelligence quotient of 260.”

He feels his cheeks heat up and then it all just comes tumbling out, “It’s really late and May was supposed to be off at two and home by two-thirty, but she’s not and I don’t know what to do. I tried calling and texting but she’s not replying and I know that I’m probably just building it up in my head but I can’t help freaking out because like, what if she got stabbed or slipped on black ice or—”

“Hey Pete?”

“Yeah?”

“Breathe.”

Tony’s voice has softened immeasurably. Something uncoils in Peter’s stomach. He flops onto his side and closes his eyes. “I’m breathing.”

“That’s good, kiddo. Now just hang on a sec, I’m gonna call the hospital.”

“What? Why?”

“Well she works there, right?”

“...Yeah.”

“And you haven’t tried calling them yet, correct?”

“...Correct.”

“Ergo,” Tony says.

“But I—”

“Yeah?”

Peter bites his lip and then he just blurts it: “I don’t want you to hang up.”

He feels like such a child but the thought of losing connection with Tony is literally making his heart palpitate and his palms sweat. He needs someone. He needs an adult.

“Well lucky for us both I have two phones.”

Peter cracks an eye. “You what?”

“I’m Tony Stark, don’t question it. Hang on, let me just—hello, hi, um, I need this room. No, it can’t wait. Yes the whole room. Yes locked. I don’t know, five minutes? Ten? An hour? No, I’m not joking. Thank you. Thanks. Yeah. Okay. Bye now.” Something slams shut—the door to the office Tony just stole, probably. “Okay, just a sec, I have the number for the reception desk she works at in my phone.”

Peter, for some reason, feels immeasurably comforted by that. He sits in silence gnawing on his lip while Tony has a somewhat muffled conversation he can’t hear the other side of. Then, “You still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Okay, well, they said she’s covering for someone and can’t get to the phone because a baby had to have emergency surgery so she’s literally in the OR as we speak. Pretty badass and not bad as far as excuses go. Now that you know she’s fine and not dead by ice, how about you get some shut-eye, okay kid?”

Peter swallows. “Yeah. Okay. Thank you, Tony.”

“No Mr. Stark this time, huh?”

“It’s too late for formalities.”

“I see,” Tony replies. “Sleep, okay?”

“Okay.”

The line goes dead. Peter, slightly relieved but not fully consoled, rolls over to face the door. He doesn’t sleep at all that night and is still there when May comes home at six in the morning with bagels and apologies.

—

2. 

The anniversary of Ben’s death is always super weird.

This time it takes him a few minutes to remember what day it is: he’s in the middle of brushing his teeth and then it hits him like a train: oh, it’s been three years.

Then comes May. She usually tries to cook something for breakfast but like always it burns. He leaves the bathroom to the sound of the smoke alarm and fans a cookie sheet at the screeching little device while she swears up and down in Italian.

“It’s okay, May, really—”

“No, it’s not!” She snaps, tossing a batch of blackened cinnamon rolls into the trash. “I just want this day to be easy for you!”

Peter goes over to her and, after kicking the oven door shut with his foot, pulls her into his arms. May starts to cry even though she tries not to; sniffles turn into barely stifled sobs. He knows that it’s harder for her than it is for him. Ben was her husband and they’d been married for thirteen years when he died. Sometimes he still catches her looking to see if he’s laughing too when they watch TV, only to find an empty recliner.

“It’s okay for it to be a bad day,” he whispers. “You know that, right? I mean, I love you to pieces, May, but I don’t wanna see you bending over backwards for me.”

“But that’s my job, doofus.”

Peter pulls back. He’s an inch taller than her now. “No it’s not. We take care of each other, okay?”

Then comes school. Ned usually hovers nervously like an agitated gnat, too afraid to say anything, not sure if he should act normal or be sad in solidarity, which means it’s kind of Peter’s job to set the tone. As he’s putting his combination in for his locker he asks, “So did you beat that level of Obra Dinn last night?”

Ned, shoulders slumping with relief, starts to ramble on about how hard it was to do and how it took him like, thirty whole tries.

They go to class. Peter zones out. He doesn’t bother making more web fluid or ditching and he gets so inside his own head that Coach Wilson compliments him again during gym class. Peter deliberately slows down after that, even if it’s kind of irritating; being physically active actually helps work off his anger.

Because that’s what he is more than anything else: angry. At the mugger, yeah, but at himself more than anything else. It was his fault that they were out that night, anyway. It’s a wonder that May doesn’t hate his fucking guts.

When school is up Peter comes home to an empty house. He thinks about going on patrol but doesn’t really feel up to it, and then he feels bad for not wanting to do it because like, what if someone is dying?

So he puts on the suit and swings from rooftop to rooftop, but there’s no action today. Peter eventually settles on a fire escape with a burrito. A stray cat hops up after a while and, despite his matted fur and crazy eyes, Peter decides he has a kind of quiet dignity about him and names him Charles.

“Do you like beef?” He asks, holding some out for Charles to sniff. The cat yowls and, without any warning other than that, nearly chomps Peter’s fingers off to get the meat.

“Ow, jeez!” Peter shakes his wrist. “I was literally giving it to you for free, but go off I guess.”

Charles blinks his big brown marble eyes and then literally jumps off the fucking ledge. Peter leans over and watches him scamper across the street, somehow not getting hit by any traffic. Sometimes he thinks his spidey sense is more like feline sense in that way: he could probably manage the same thing with his eyes closed.

After a while the sun sets and all of the streetlights turn on. Peter does another patrol around the immediate vicinity but again, nothing. He stays out anyway though because he’d rather do his Chemistry homework behind a dumpster than sit alone in the apartment with nothing but the quiet for company. At least out and about there are sewer rats and mangy dogs and shady characters who actually just turn out to be skateboarders.

Peter is almost done with his assignment when the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

He looks up and finds Iron Man himself coming in for a landing. The suit drops with a barely audible clunk; it’s Mark 54, the sleekest and most lightweight model yet.

“Oh thank God,” says Tony’s voice, “you’re not dead.”

Peter frowns even though Tony can’t see it. “No,” he agrees slowly. “Why would I be dead? What are you doing here?”

“Well, your aunt called me in a panic at around four when she got home and you weren’t there, and then I checked the scanners and saw that you’d been here, completely stationary, for like five whole hours—needless to say I had a little bit of a heart attack and here I am, relieved and also mildly infuriated. Care to explain, young padawan?”

Peter opens his mouth to speak. Closes it. Opens it again and, “It’s four AM?”

“Four fifteen,” Tony corrects.

“I didn’t even—I didn’t know! Shit, May’s totally gonna kill me, I might as well be dead—”

“Woah woah woah,” the faceplate lifts, “calm down, okay? No one is mad. Just, uh, concerned, I promise.”

Peter is still frantically packing up his school supplies and not really listening. He only stops when Tony gently touches him by lightly gripping his elbow. “Kid?”

Peter stares down at the older man’s hand. Behind the mask his eyes start to burn. “Ben died.”

“Pardon?”

“Ben died,” he repeats louder. “In this alley. Two years ago.”

All at once Tony’s face falls. He moves to sit by Peter on the grimy floor of the alley while the suit hovers nearby, a hollow shell, just the way Peter feels now.

“Kid,” Tony says, “take off the mask.”

“What? No, I’m in public—”

“No one’s around,” Tony says. “Just take it off, okay?”

Peter does, reluctantly peeling it back to reveal his tear-stained cheeks. Tony stares for a second and then, almost hesitantly, he wraps his arms around Peter. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I—” he chokes. “I’m just so tired. I’m tired of having to watch May be strong for me when I can’t be strong back, and I’m tired of Ben not being around. I miss him and it—it’s not fair.”

“Of course it’s not. It’s never fair. That’s why it hurts, kiddo. You’ve got all this love and no place to put it.”

Peter bites his lip to stop it from quivering and looks away, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I just feel pathetic.”

“Don’t,” Tony says firmly. “I felt the same way after my mom died and it… In some ways I don’t think the feeling ever actually went away, but uh, take it from someone who’s had a lot more time to process: no one is expecting anything from you, okay? And I can guarantee there’s not a single human that thinks two years is long enough to be perfectly fine again. You’re allowed to still be upset about this.”

And Peter is. He’s really, really fucking upset about it and so tired of holding it in. Tony pulls him against his chest when Peter starts to cry and it sort of seems like he’ll never be able to stop. There’s just so much, so much guilt and pain and all kinds of other bullshit that he refuses to lay on May.

So he lays it on Tony. And it’s surprisingly not horrible or awkward or even the end of the world.

“You good?” the older man asks, when Peter finally sobers up enough to wipe his cheeks dry and take a few steadying breaths.

“Yeah,” he says, voice ragged and awful-sounding. “Um, sorry. For freaking you and May out and ruining your shirt, I mean.”

“You know there’s this really snazzy invention called a washing machine—”

“Oh my god, shut up.”

Tony laughs and it makes Peter laugh too, and the tension between them just sort of dissipates. “Speaking of clothes,” Tony claps his hands together, “you got any to wear in that backpack?”

“Uh, jeans and a hoodie?”

“Fantastic, incredible. Throw them on, I’m taking you out for breakfast.”

“But what if someone sees?!”

“Let ’em. I’ll have Pep release a statement claiming you as my personal assistant or head intern or something.”

“That’s totally unrealistic.”

“Do I care? No. Just—okay? Up and at ’em, make haste, come on. What do you feel like, pancakes or waffles?”

They bicker about which is better the entire way to the little diner Tony choses, and Peter comes home full an hour later. May is fast asleep at the kitchen table. He kisses her forehead and starts on breakfast for her.

—

3. 

He’s thirty minutes into helping MJ study for her AP French test when she finally gets a question wrong. “‘Il n'est pas clair que’?” Peter queries, holding up the flash card.

“‘It’s not certain that’?”

He makes a pitying noise. “Close. ‘It’s not clear that’.”

“What’s not clear, exactly? That if I see one more word in French I’m gonna blow my brains out?”

Peter snorts. “No, actually it says more clarification is required on how much you like your boyfriend. Suggestions to improve that include: a hug, a kiss, both—”

“Neither?”

He pouts. “Mean.”

MJ rolls her eyes, but she kisses him first. She tastes like the Twizzlers they’ve been eating and her hands are in his hair and she laughs when he presses his lips to her cheeks and nose and forehead.

They somehow end up in an incredibly compromising position. “You know,” MJ muses, “I don’t think I’ve been studying the right kind of French.”

Peter, hovering over her (oops), nods in agreement. “This kind is definitely way better.”

She wraps her arms around his neck and he’s so consumed with this: her and him and the smell of her jasmine shampoo—that he almost doesn’t hear it.

Almost.

Peter rips away abruptly. “What was that?”

She groans. “God, you’re such a dog sometimes.”

He ignores her, sitting alert with his eyes narrowed at the window and, sure enough, there it is again: a faint, blood-curdling scream. “Someone’s being attacked or something. Maybe four blocks away tops.”

MJ squints. “Don’t tell me you can echolocate.”

“I—” Peter’s mouth snaps shut and then opens again. “I actually don’t know. Anyway, I gotta go.”

He presses a quick kiss to her cheek, throws on his jacket, and quickly ducks out her fire escape (which happens to be the same way that he came in). He slips the mask on and tosses his hood up; it’s raining in heavy, icy sheets and Peter is drenched within seconds of swinging. He remembers the first time he’d gone out during a storm; the webbing he’d made hadn’t held up because the chemical formula hadn’t accounted for the massive amounts of water-based reaction, so the biocables had evaporated as they left his shooters. Thankfully he hadn’t jumped first that day, otherwise he would be a Peter Pancake.

Another scream sounds. Peter follows it and winds up latched onto the side of a two-story brick building. There’s an incredibly dark alley below, but a quick flash of lightning tells him everything he needs to know: one man is trying to wrestle a woman down, while another is rifling through her purse. He’s also holding a gun.

“Oh, cute,” he mutters sarcastically.

Peter tries to time it right: he takes aim and shoots a web right at the weapon with the next bout of lightning, but to his immense misfortune, the armed mugger had already seen him and was aiming right back. The bullet hits Peter in the side.

“Ow,” he says, “that was uncalled for.”

He drops. His side is throbbing and hot but he ignores it in favour of disarming the guy who shot him. It’s a brief struggle but Peter ends up whacking the gun out of his hand and webbing it to the wall opposite. Then he knocks the guy out with a solid upper cross to the temple.

Peter rounds. The assailant has already fled, leaving the woman shivering but relatively unharmed.

“You okay, ma’am?” he asks.

“Me? That guy shot you!”

Peter looks down at his side which is now stained with blood. “Oh, yeah.”

He’d actually forgotten for half a second. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, he’s starting to really feel it: a burning sensation in his abdomen, an aching that pulses from his stomach to his chest. Ah. Wonderful.

A little dazed, he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about me. Super healing. Are you good? You need me to call you a cab?”

“What? No, um—the police station is like, down the block, I can go get them.”

“Are you sure? Because I can totally do that—”

“I can handle myself,” she says sharply, bending down to pick up her purse and the discarded items within. “It’s just… there were two of them and there was a gun and—”

“I get it,” Peter says, his hand pressing harder into his side as the world grows blurrier around the edges. “You really don’t want me to at least walk you down?”

“I’ll take a taxi,” she says. “You just, um, get yourself fixed up, okay? And thanks.”

“Yeah, sure, anytime! But, y’know, preferably never again,” Peter says, and proceeds to swing away.

—

Tony doesn’t expect to get woken up at two AM after only just falling asleep five minutes before, but such is life; FRIDAY’s voice bleeds through the speakers above to inform him that Spider-Man is currently rifling through the Med-Bay and bleeding from a wound on his side.

Pepper looks at him. “You heard that too, right? That was real?”

“It was real.”

They both scramble out of bed. Tony takes the lead, throwing on his jacket as he runs toward the elevator. It’s times like these when every second stretches out into an eternity; it takes maybe five of them to get from their floor to the Med-Bay, but it feels like forever.

The doors open and there’s Peter, perched on a gurney with his shirt gone and a whole lot of blood staining his side. He’s bent awkwardly, clearly trying to feel his way around whatever wound he’s got.

“Um,” Tony says, approaching, “What.”

Peter looks up and—yeah, he’s lost a lot more blood than Tony had originally thought. His face is fucking drained. “Hey,” he says, offering a jaunty wave before returning his attention to his side. “I got shot.”

“Oh!” Tony nods. “Oh, okay. What the fuck, kiddo?”

“I know, right?” Peter glances up. “Hey, Pepper.”

“Peter,” she returns. “Do you mind if I wash my hands and take a look at that?”

“If you want. It’s kinda gross, though.”

“Believe me, I’ve seen worse.”

Through this exchange Tony was already washing up, and now he dons a pair of gloves and sits on the rolling stool. “Looks like it’s through and through,” he tells Pep over his shoulder. “Could you grab a couple suture kits and, uh, the stuff?”

Pepper makes a face. “The stuff?”

“You know,” Tony says, “The Good Stuff.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh, that stuff.”

Tony feels around the area. “Do you know what kind of gun was used?”

“Looked like your standard nine mil,” Peter replies. His voice is growing a little slurred.

That’s good though, about the gun. Means there’s probably not any bullet fragments to worry about. Tony grabs a load of gauze and presses it against the wound. He checks Peter’s pulse while he’s at it and finds that it’s slowed considerably. “We’re gonna have to get you some blood, too. A neg, right?”

“Yuppers.”

Tony excuses that because after all, the kid is bleeding out on a table. Said kid actually starts to swing his legs back and forth and, yeah, that’s not gonna fly. “Do me a favour and lay back? I’m gonna put this towel right under you for now.”

Peter doesn’t have any arguments, or if he does, he doesn’t vocalise them. Pepper comes back in with the kits and drugs and, because she’s just smarter than him like that, bags of blood.

Tony grabs the vials first and loads up a syringe. Peter is pretty numb to all of it until the needle goes in. Then he frowns. “Why are you injecting me with alien blood?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “It’s not alien blood, it’s a pain killer. A serious one at that, so you’re probably gonna feel a little out of it for a while, okay?”

Peter frowns. “Is it for Steve?”

Tony tenses, but it’s only for a second. “Yes,” he says, somewhat tightly.

“Ugh. What a turd, Mr. Stark. You’re giving me turd vitamins!” Tony scoffs while Pepper laughs. Peter notices. “See? She thinks I’m funny.”

“You’re not helping me here,” Tony says to her.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Here, have some thread.”

Tony sighs. “Just stay still for me, okay?”

Peter does. Pepper passes him various supplies and they work together to sew up both ends of the gunshot wound. By the time they’re done, Peter hasn’t moved once, but his eyes are open and he’s frowning.

“How do you feel?”

“Wired,” he says.

“Seriously? Bruce never said anything about the side-effects, but I figured they’d be like normal pain-killers; make you drowsy and all that.”

“No,” Peter sits up quickly and doesn’t even flinch. “I feel like I just got steroids or something. Are you—are you actually telling me that Captain America’s drugs are infused with a stimulant? What, so he can keep fighting even when he’s in the middle of dying?”

Tony blinks. “Well that was smart of dear Banner.”

“Yeah, or insane.” Peter flexes his hands. “I feel like I need to go for a run, or like, break something.”

“Let’s avoid that,” Tony says, pushing him back down. “You need to heal, not mess yourself up even more, understood?”

Peter stares. “Is it normal to see sounds?”

Pepper bursts out laughing again. “I’m sorry,” she says when Tony glares. “Really, I am, I promise. Peter, honey, how about we get you to a bedroom where you can rest up? We’ll call your aunt and explain everything.”

—

Everything is going fine until May asks, “How did you get to the Tower so quick, then?”

Peter blinks. “Hmm? Pardon?”

“If you were at Ned’s,” May says, “how’d you manage to swing all the way across town?”

Peter opens his mouth and closes it. “I, uh… well, funny story, um… I wasn’t actually at Ned’s?”

There’s a pause over the phone. Pepper, who’s holding it, raises an eyebrow. May says: “You told me you were going to Ned’s, Peter.”

His face feels hot. He hopes it isn’t red. Both Pepper and Tony—from the doorway with his hands stuffed in his sweatpant pockets—are staring. It’s almost as bad as if May were really here.

“Well I was going to Ned’s, but then I changed my mind and went somewhere else and oh—look at the time! I think we’re going through a tunnel—”

“Don’t even try to pull that crap! That’s it, I’m coming over there—”

“May,” Peter says, serious now, “you’re in the middle of a shift, there’s people dying. Just—I’m perfectly fine, I took my Captain America drugs and everything is gonna be okay.”

“But you lied to me.”

“No, I changed my mind.”

“And went where?”

“Irrelevant.”

“Peter.”

“May.”

She groans from the other end of the line and demands to speak to Pepper one on one. Tony’s fiancé grins and switches off speaker, before slipping out with a bright laugh to finish off the conversation. Tony stares expectantly. “So where were you?”

“Oh my god, not you too. You know, on second thought, I actually am completely exhausted and—”

“Uh, nope,” Tony flops down onto the bed. “Fess up.”

Peter sighs. He squirms down and covers his pillow with a head. “No.”

Tony joins him under it. “Tell me.”

Peter scowls. He rolls onto his side so they’re facing one another. “I was with my girlfriend.”

“Oooo—”

“Shush! It’s… it’s really not a big deal and I haven’t told May yet because MJ and I haven’t even really talked about it and it all happened super fast and—” he remembers to breathe, “I just… I always tell May everything, you know? But I kind of just felt like… this was something I had to figure out first on my own. Maybe it’s stupid, but I know she’s gonna be super hurt when she finds out it’s been a month and I haven’t said anything—”

“Kid,” Tony cuts in. “Calm down.”

“I’m calm,” Peter promises, because he is. He’s also just incredibly hyper and stressed.

“It’s a normal instinct to want to figure things out and define them before you start announcing them to the world. I get that. But you’re still a kid, Pete, and even if you don’t want people prying into your love life, we still need to know where you are in case something goes wrong.”

Peter harrumphs as he turns away. “There’s a tracker on my phone and my suit. It would be easier to find me than anything else.”

Tony clicks his tongue. “You got a point there.”

“I just wanted time.”

“I know.”

“But I really like her, okay? Like she’s so smart and she’s got this really dark sense of humour and she’s actually kind of terrifying sometimes—”

“Oh, the scary ones are always fun.”

They stay up talking through the night and, when the sun comes up, Pepper joins them with a tray of freshly made blueberry waffles. May arrives around the same time and, looking too tired to be mad, simply drops onto the bed with them and steals what’s left of his food.

—

4. 

Peter is on patrol when he hears it:

a soft, quiet yelping coming from somewhere down below the rooftop he’s perched on.

At first he figures he’s imagining things, but then his ears perk again. He leans over the building’s edge to find the source of the noise.

In the dark it’s hard to make anything out, so he climbs slowly down the side of the wall, squinting. There’s another yelp and a low whine, almost pained. Peter zeroes in on the sound and creeps toward a set of dumpsters; they’re so full of trash they’re overflowing, and it’s underneath a broken down cardboard box that he finds it... 

A puppy.

Now, Peter is no liar. He’s wanted a dog since he was like, a fetus. The words ‘A dog’ have been on every birthday and Christmas list for as long as he can remember. It’s only recently, in the years since Ben’s death, that he’s pretty much given up—after all, May is so overworked and they can barely afford to feed themselves. How could they afford a pet?

But also…

This is the cutest dog he’s ever seen.

It’s tiny and fluffy and brown and has the biggest, saddest eyes he’s ever seen.

Peter kind of just stands there staring like an idiot for a good few seconds and then slowly kneels down. “Um, hi,” he says, in the gentlest voice he can manage. The puppy, who can’t be older than a few weeks and looks completely starved and exhausted, whines in response.

Peter holds out his hand for the dog to sniff. It lifts its head lazily and leans forward, nose twitching and dry. “You need water, huh? Come on, I know a place.”

—

“Shelob,” Tony greets without looking up from whatever project he’s working on. “What can I do for you at… one in the fucking morning?”

“I need your help with something, but you have to promise you won’t get mad or make me get rid of him—”

“Oh, for God’s sake, what have you done now?”

“He was just so helpless and cold and small and…” Peter swallows and reveals the puppy, presently wrapped up in his hoodie. “Meet Nugget.”

Tony’s face is the epitome of Disappointed Dad. He stares, open-mouthed, and after a second his shoulders fall. “Well, fuck.”

Peter snuggles Nugget against his chest and steps closer, but then Tony holds up a hand to stop him. “Nah-ah! Not until that thing gets a flea bath!”

Hope sparks in Peter’s chest. “You mean we can keep him?”

“I mean there’s no way I’m getting near him until I know I won’t break out in hives.”

“That’s not how fleas work.”

“Do I care? No. Come on, let’s go to the bathroom.”

—

“Why do you have flea shampoo?”

Peter’s inquiry is made tentatively. They both have their hands in the sud-filled sink as they systematically wash Nugget’s fur.

“There was… an incident a while ago. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Peter stares. Blinks. “Okay. Well, I think he’s clean.”

Nugget barks as if in agreement, and so Peter and Tony lift him out of the basin and set him on a pile of no doubt expensive, fluffy white towels. Tony takes the lead after that. He’s surprisingly gentle and patient with the yapping, impatient puppy—even when Nugget tries to claw at him and shake himself dry, Tony never loses his cool.

A few minutes later they’re sitting on their stomachs watching Nugget stomp around on a blanket. There’s water in a bowl for him at one corner and a plate of chopped up chicken at another.

“I can’t take him home,” Peter says morosely after a few minutes. “May won’t let me keep him.”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Where does she even think you are right now?”

“...In my bed.”

“Wow,” Tony says, deadpan. “Okay, well, I most certainly can’t keep him either.”

“What?! Why not?!”

Tony sighs. “I’m Iron Man, if you hadn’t noticed, kiddo—”

“Oh, what, so you’re too tough to look after him?”

“No, I’m too busy. I spend like, twenty-three out of twenty-four hours in a day in my shop and the rest of the time I’m on my knees apologising to Pepper and begging for forgiveness. There’s no time in-between to feed the pup, walk the pup—”

“I could come by,” Peter blurts. “Like, once a day, and I could make sure he’s eaten and play with him and stuff. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger—”

“Except to press ‘purchase’ on my shopping cart full of dog food—”

“Tony,” Peter cuts in, pleading, “please? I can’t just drop him off at some kennel so they can—” he covers the dog’s ears, “so they can euthanize him in a week when no one buys him. He deserves so much better, you know?”

Tony frowns, considering it, and Peter waits with his breath caught in his throat until, “God, fine.”

“Yes!”

“But! But! A pet is a serious responsibility, okay? You might as well be adopting a child—”

“What would you know about raising kids?” Peter asks, only jokingly, but Tony just stares and then, for some reason, smiles.

“You have to make sure he’s happy,” Tony says. “You have to be there for him in whatever way he needs, alright? I’ll set up a pen in the penthouse and you can make sure he works off his energy there, and if I have time I’ll even take you both to the park. And if he ever happens to pee on my carpet, I’m counting on you to clean it up.”

“Don’t you have, like, housekeepers for that sort of thing?”

“Yeah, but this is character building stuff.”

“Ugh, fine, I’ll clean up the pee.”

They continue to iron out the details for a while and bicker over whether Nugget’s last name should be Parker or Stark, and it’s only when Pepper walks in—still in her pajamas, bleary eyed and complaining that they woke her up—that they both decide it should be ‘Potts’.

—

5. (+1)

It starts with a headache.

He’s bent over his desk studying for a Calc test when the throbbing begins. It’s not so bad at first, but after a half hour or so his vision is swimming and he keeps having to take breaks to massage his temples and close his eyes. The equations are all blending together and he can’t think straight anymore.

Peter decides to give up right around then. After all, if he’s not gonna retain any of the information, why bother?

May pokes and prods through dinner. Peter tries to fool her by acting like everything is normal and okay and even manages to make her laugh once or twice.

Inside, dread is coiling through his stomach like an irritated snake. He knows what’s coming next; after all, he doesn’t really get sick anymore, so what else could it be?

Peter tries to sleep but ends up tossing and turning for most of the night. He falls into some kind of half-conscious daze at around four in the morning and rouses about twenty minutes later, soaked with sweat and aching everywhere.

Feeling like he’s gonna vomit, Peter kicks off his blankets and strips the sheets off his bed. He takes his shirt off because the fabric is too abrasive against his skin and it’s like he can feel every fibre tickling against it, grating and chafing. He curls up into a tight ball and covers his ears with his hands to block out the now amplified sounds of the city: car alarms, dogs barking, music playing.

Normally Peter loves the way New York is never silent. Now, he just wishes everyone would shut the fuck up for once.

When he stumbles out of his room a little while later, May is already gone. She’d told him the night before that she had an early shift and for once he’s actually grateful. Haltingly, Peter gets ready for school. He’s already skipped three days this month and if he misses this Calc quiz he’s gonna fucking bomb the class.

May would kill him.

It’s better to suffer a little than die.

Brushing his teeth makes his head spin and the minute he wriggles into his clothes he feels like a caged animal about to claw his skin off. Everything takes so much longer than normal. He doesn’t eat because the mere thought of food makes the back of his throat sting with bile.

On the train, he closes his eyes and rests his head against the cool glass of the window, trying to tune out the constant screeching of the rails. One day, on God, he will make it a personal project to oil every fucking line in the subway.

At his fifth stop, an old lady boards and all the seats are taken.

Peter swallows thickly and stands. Black spots dance in his vision and he grabs onto the overhead bar—something he hasn’t actually needed to use since he was a little kid—and tries not to pass out.

He almost misses the stop to get to school, but slips out at the last second, millimetres away from getting his backpack caught in the doors. Peter is hot all over and lightheaded as he makes his way out of the station. It’s even hotter up above, what with summer coming now and all.

Peter is late and he doesn’t need his watch to tell; Flash’s car is already parked out front instead of zooming through the drop off to run him over (which, hey, silver lining), and the majority of the student body is already inside.

Peter has to stop multiple times on his way to Spanish just to breathe. By the time he gets there he’s at least ten minutes late for roll call.

“Mr. Parker,” his teacher greets, unimpressed. “So glad you could join us.”

Peter makes a noise and takes the proffered quiz. He wonders absently why some people choose to teach. What is it, like, some kind of power trip for them?

He has five minutes to finish the quiz but doesn’t make it past the first question. Ned volunteers to collect them and stops at Peter’s desk while Professor Scott outlines today’s lesson plan.

“Dude,” he whisper-hisses, “you look like complete shit. What on Earth are you doing here right now?”

“Test,” Peter mutters dully, resting his cheek on his hand and closing his eyes. “Here you go. Didn’t finish it.”

Ned takes it carefully, holding it with two fingers like it’s covered in disease. “Do you want me to get the nurse or something?”

Peter hums. “No. Just… headache.”

Slowly Ned backs away. “Um—”

“Mr. Leeds!” Professor Scott says, loudly. Ned jumps. “Is there a problem back there?”

Yes, Peter thinks. You’re the human version of nails on a fucking chalk board. Please, for the love of all that is holy, just start on the vocab.

Only he accidentally says all of that out loud.

The whole class is staring. Flash is slack-jawed. Betty Brant’s eyes are the size of small moons.

“Parker,” Scott grits out—and Peter has denominated him to just Scott now out of reciprocation and spite; “You just earned yourself a shiny new detention. I’d like you to take this slip to the principal’s office. Please.”

Oh, thank God. At least it’ll be quiet there.

Peter stands and brushes past Ned and it literally feels like flames of hell are licking against his skin. He almost vomits. This is decidedly not good.

He takes the paper. “Gladly, good sir.”

When he’s gone, there’s an outburst of muttering that his enhancements let him hear. It only makes the overload worse. Peter covers his ears with his hands again and, overcome with a sudden wave of vertigo, ducks into the bathroom.

He barely makes it to the toilet before emptying his stomach of last night’s food.

Peter sags against the wall, panting. He keeps his eyes closed and waits for the world to stop spinning. About ten minutes later, the smell of jasmine shampoo—normally welcome—causes him to lean over and retch again.

MJ pokes her head inside the unlocked stall. “Jesus,” she whispers. The second her hands touch his body he flinches and she immediately retracts them. “Fuck, sorry. Ned said you wigged out in Spanish. I looked for you in the Principal's office but you weren’t there and... What’s—what’s wrong? I thought you couldn’t even get sick.”

“Bad headache,” he mutters, spitting into the toilet. It’s easier than explaining about his freakish mutations and how they sometimes go completely haywire, leaving him on edge and nauseous and irritable.

MJ grabs him some toilet paper to wipe his mouth with. “Did you take anything?”

“Pain meds don’t work on me.”

“Does May know? You should have called in.”

“Couldn’t. Can’t miss my test.”

She sighs. “Your final is like fifty percent of your grade and you could pass it with your eyes closed. You can miss your test, you’re just afraid of getting anything lower than an A.”

Peter is silent. “You got me there.”

MJ’s hand twitches like she wants to touch him but knows she can’t. “You need to go home. Lie down, get some rest.”

“May is working,” Peter says, “and if I have to take the subway again right now I’ll die. I really will. It’s so—the smell and the noise and I can’t sit down and—”

“Give me your phone.”

“What?”

“Just give it.”

She’s holding her hand out for it and giving him a no-nonsense expression that kind of reminds Peter of Pepper Potts on a rampage. He’s seen what happens to Tony when he crosses her, so he fishes his phone out of his pocket and hands it over.

“Hold on.”

She stands and leaves. Peter closes his eyes again. He tunes out her conversation because if he doesn’t, he’s absolutely gonna vomit again and nobody wants that.

MJ slips back inside the stall. “Okay, solved. Do you still feel like you’re gonna vomit?”

Peter thinks about it. “No.”

“Good. We’re gonna go to the nurse, okay?”

“Oh boy.”

—

Tony Stark walks into Peter’s school and finds the hallways empty. The classroom doors are shut and the muted sounds of teachers lecturing are the only signs that anyone is here at all.

He finds Peter in the infirmary, sitting on the examination table with the heels of his palms pressed against his eyes.

He’s at his side in an instant. “Kid?”

It’s surprise that gets Peter’s eyes open, but the little spider baby immediately regrets it. He flinches and sucks in a sharp breath. “Tony,” he whispers, like the name is all he can manage and the questions will have to wait for later.

Tony looks him over. There are no obvious injuries. The girl on the phone had said it was just a headache, but Tony is way more experienced with Peter’s brand of bullshit and knows there’s usually something else going on beneath the surface.

“I’m gonna go talk to the nurse and then get you out of here, okay?”

A nod.

It’s always a bad thing when he doesn’t argue. Peter Parker would start a fight about what kind of pizza to order, even if you suggest the kind he really wants, just to be a stubborn little shit about things.

Tony slips out of the exam room. The nurse looks up when he enters her office. “Oh my—Mr. Stark?!”

“Yes, hello,” Tony takes a cautious step forward as she stands. He doesn’t bother to sit. “I’m here to pick up the little gremlin in there.”

Her face flushes. “I didn’t know you’d been called, I—I figured I would just let him wait it out, you know? He didn’t want to be touched, so it was hard to figure out what was up and—so it’s real? About the internship?”

“Of course. Why would he lie?”

She opens her mouth. Closes it. “Well… you know how kids can be.”

“Do I?”

She doesn’t seem to know what to say to that.

Tony sighs. “Look, Nurse—uh, Timms—Nurse Timms, can I please just sign the kid out and take him home? He’s clearly in pain here.”

She starts rifling through her desk for a form. “I mean, I can admit you to take him home, but I really suggest you talk with the principal first—Peter was given a detention before he was brought to my ward, see, and I was—” she shakes her head. “I thought he might be faking.”

Tony stares without blinking for a whole five seconds and then, “Detention? For what?”

“I heard he bad-mouthed a teacher or something. But to be fair, Professor Scott isn’t exactly what I’d call patient.”

“Well, be that as it may,” Tony takes the form she hands him to sign, “my kid doesn’t fake. He has a condition, see. Gets uh… overloaded. Sounds, smells, it can be too much for him. Probably why he snapped.”

“That… that makes sense.”

“Yes,” he says succinctly, and hands the paper back. “You’d know that if you bothered to ask. Anyway, I’ll be going. Thanks for the help, Nurse Times.”

“Uh, it’s—it’s Timms—”

The door shuts behind him.

—

MJ was forced to go back to class. She’d argued and protested but Nurse Timms was insistent. So, MJ had relented. She’d pressed the lightest of kisses on his forehead and it surprisingly hadn’t felt that bad, and then she’d gone.

Tony Stark had shown up about twenty minutes later and it’s just when Peter’s starting to think it was all just a vivid hallucination that the smell of coffee and motor oil fills his senses again. It’s overwhelming but not debilitating.

“Kiddo,” Tony whispers, “is it okay to touch you?”

Peter cracks an eye. Everything is bright but Tony’s suit is mercifully black, so he focuses on that. “I don’t know. I don’t wanna move.”

“Well I gotta get you outta here somehow.”

“But my detention—”

“I already got you out of it,” Tony says breezily. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Tony,” Peter says, cheeks flushing. “You can’t just bribe my principal into—”

“I didn’t bribe anyone. I just explained the situation and besides, Morita’s an old friend.”

Peter closes his eyes again as he frowns. “You’re friends with my principal?”

“I’m a benefactor for your school, too,” Tony says. “But don’t tell anyone, it’s a secret.”

Something shifts in the air. Tony is sitting now. “Happy’s waiting outside,” he says, “but whenever you’re ready.”

Peter thinks about it for a few seconds and decides it’s gonna have to happen at some point, anyway. Might as well rip the band-aid off now. Slowly he takes a deep breath and manages to sit up with Tony’s help. The older man tries to avoid touching him as much as possible, but surprisingly enough the weight of his hand against Peter’s spine isn’t crushing or aggravating. It doesn’t hurt.

“Baby steps,” Tony says softly. “We’ll take you out the side door, okay?”

Even getting to the door is slow going but Tony doesn’t seem to mind. Right before they open it, Tony stops and pulls his sunglasses off. “Here, try these.”

Peter puts them on. He feels ridiculous because like, they work on Tony who was literally born in the seventies, but Peter really doesn’t dig the groovy shades. Regardless they’re better than nothing and even help a little.

The halls are empty again. Most of the students will be in the gym right about now, or the cafeteria for lunch. They don’t run into anybody on the way out and as soon as they’re in the back of the car, Peter sags against Tony’s side. He feels like he’s just run ten miles.

“Drive, Hogan,” Tony says, and then the partition glides up.

For a few seconds it’s almost completely quiet. Noise suppression tech, Peter realises, and he feels like he could cry from relief. For the first time in hours there’s just… nothing. No traffic, no dozens of students talking at once. The air conditioning unit is filtered, so he’s not being attacked with the smell of body odour and clashing perfume scents and Axe cologne. There’s just Tony and beautiful, amazing, showstopping silence.

Tony shifts a little. “Better?”

Peter nods, figuring it’s still probably not safe to speak.

“We’ll be there soon,” Tony says softly.

—

Peter doesn’t remember much after the car ride. He can vaguely recall protesting getting out of the Audi, and he remembers Tony assuring him that everything would be okay, and the next thing he knows he’s lying on his back in an utterly dark bedroom. The walls are insulated just like the car had been, so there’s just no sound, and the bed sheets probably have the highest thread count of all time.

Something shifts beside Peter and he realises Tony is there, feeling his forehead.

“What—?”

“Oh, hey,” Tony greets. “I think you might’ve blacked out there. All the noise hit you at once when we got out of the car and you just…”

“I fainted?”

Tony snorts softly. “Relax. It happens to the best of us. How do you feel, Webster?”

Peter hums. “Bad.”

“Let’s try a scale of one to ten.”

“Okay,” Peter says. “Ten.” Tony lets out a little grunt at that and so Peter elaborates, “It was at like, a twenty this morning, so.”

“Ah, I see.” Tony’s grip shifts to Peter’s wrist to measure his pulse. “This okay?”

“It’s fine.”

And it really is. He doesn’t feel like burning his skin off or anything. Tony’s hands are just warm.

“Any idea what brought this on?”

Peter shifts a little. “I uh… haven’t been sleeping a lot lately.” He swallows. “Like, at all.”

“And how long’s that been going on for?”

“I don’t know. On and off for a few weeks, I guess.”

“Jesus,” Tony sighs and pulls his hand away. He rakes it through his hair. “Kiddo, what have we said about communication? Does May know?”

“....No?”

There’s a long pause where Tony just kind of sits there thinking, like he wants to say whatever comes next carefully. He massages his temples and then: “Alright, scooch over.”

“What?”

“Make room for me.”

Peter blinks and then, tentatively, scoots over a little to allow Tony room to lie down. The older man does, arching his back a little and grunting in pain because he’s like, ancient. They’re not touching, but very slowly Peter starts inching closer again. Eventually he works up the courage to try resting his head on Tony’s chest, which is terrifying not only because it’s Tony Stark, but also because he’d rather not have his brain implode.

Nothing happens. “Your fabric softener must be like, super expensive,” he whispers, because this is actually better than the sheets.

Tony snorts. “I’ll ask Pep about it.”

Peter makes a noncommittal noise and before he knows it, his eyes are closing. For once they actually feel heavy, and the steady rhythm of Tony’s heart beat is soothing, dependable.

Tony’s hands brush lightly over Peter’s hair and then thread through it. “Too much?”

“No,” Peter promises. “Good.”

And so Tony’s fingers run through his curls over and over, gently, lightly. His thumb sweeps over Peter’s cheek once, too, and then he starts muttering in Italian.

Peter cracks an eye. “Are you telling me your grocery shopping list?”

Tony laughs a little. “My mom used to do it for me,” he says. “Something about just hearing her speak the language made me feel… relaxed, I guess. Didn’t matter what she was saying.”

Peter smiles and wraps an arm around Tony’s torso. “Tell me something else.”

“You wanna hear about the time I almost blew up a Chem lab?”

“Uh, duh.”

So Tony launches into it, speaking in a low voice and absently twisting one of Peter’s curls around his finger. It feels nice and the headache is fading fast.

Peter sleeps. 

[demivampirew]

Kalentine’s Day

Henry x Plus-Size Reader

You can find more of my writings in the Masterlist

This was a request from @born2stronger : “what about if Henry meets reader through Instagram (we all know sometimes he checks on the comments) so reader gets his attention and he messages her.”   I hope you like it. 😊

Triggers: Fat- shaming; talking about the lost of a pet; feeling of nostalgia.

Tag list: @lunedelorient​​ @henrythickcavill​ @wolvesandhoundshowltogether​ @mary-ann84​ @desperate-and-broken​ @peakygroupie​ @summersong69​ @ivvitm1109​ @madbaddic7ed​ @iloveyouyen​ @the-soot-sprite @hell1129-blog​

"Happy Valentine's day everyone! For all of my fellow single pringles out there, you don't have to be in a relationship to enjoy today, it's about Love. Enjoy seeing others in Love, love your friends, your family, and especially yourself. #Kal #ValentinesDay #BestDogEver #KalentinesDay"

Henry wrote and posted the picture of Kal laying on the bed with a rose on his Instagram account.

Nostalgia hit him hard later that day. He wasn't in a rush to get back on the dating game, especially not after a recent disappointment with a lady, but he missed celebrating that day with a woman he would care about. He starting to imaging how that day would've been if there was someone special in his life: he'd had made breakfast for her to eat on the bed; he'd taken a stroll down the park after that, to enjoy the beautiful morning. They'd have had lunch in someplace fancy, then watch a movie and he'd prepare her favourite dish for dinner and he'd finish the day by making her feel unique. Every woman in his life was unique on his eyes, for best or for worst. That thought made him sigh deeply for what he decided to check some comments on his post. Cheeking comments on his photos was his guilty pleasure. He loved the nice comments and would laugh out loud whenever there were thirsty comments; some were a bit distasteful, others were cute and there were others that were so odd that made him chuckled.

As he was scrolling through comments, one caught up his attention. "@(your username) "KalentinesDay" you cracked me up, Mr Cavill! But I'd like to differ with the BestDogEver one; I love Kal, he's awesome, but my dog is...was the best. I lost him two days ago and I felt like my world crushed for I've had him since I was a kid. Being there holding his paw as the doctor put him down due to disease was the worst thing I've ever experienced. Sorry for ruining the mood, but thank you for the post, it lighted up my day! Have a nice KalentinesDay, Sir." He felt so bad for that person, so he entered her profile and hit the message option. "Hi Y/N. I saw your comment and I just wanted to say how sorry I'm that you lost your beloved companion. I've had Kal for a few years and I cannot even bear the thought of losing him, so I cannot imagine how must feel to lose your pal who's been there most of your life. Be strong. I'm sending you virtual hugs and lots of love. I hope you get better soon." After sending her the message, he checked her account for he saw a recent post with a picture of a lovely dog. It wasn't a mixed breed. It was a rescued dog. She talked so fondly of him, remembering the first day she met him and a few adventures they lived together. The stories warmed Henry's heart yet saddened him, knowing that his light had extinguished. There were a lot of pictures of her dog on her account and pictures of books and movies. Funny enough, most of the books she talked about were some of his favourites and the ones that he hadn't read, he took screen captures so he wouldn't forget to check them out. One of the movies she posted about was Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice and he had to see her thoughts on it. She agreed that the whole Martha plot was absurd, but the thing that bothered her the most, and in her opinion ruined the movie a little bit, was the fact that Doomsday was on the final trailer, for the movie would have been higher rated from her if she'd already known that he was going to show up. Yet, she disagreed with all the hate and the thought that the movie was bad: "It could've been better? Sure, Was it horrible? Absolutely not," "If it is too dark for you, don't watch it, period. Mr Snyder understands the soul of DC Comics. Dc is not lighthearted, accept that and move on" she wrote. Henry was too tempted to like the post and reply, but he decided that it was best not to do it. She didn't have many pictures of her, but he found one from two years ago. In the picture, she was standing to a bride and she hugging her. She had a pink dress on. Henry looked at her cute smile and was stunned by her beauty. In the caption of the photo, she wrote " Ignore my ugly fat ass... focus on my beautiful sister who just got married to her Charming Prince! Congrats, babe! Love you a lot and wish you a lifetime of nothing but happiness! ♥" Henry liked the picture and went straight to the comment section and wrote "You look gorgeous. I hope their love story is a good one and lives on." and press send. He was so caught by her, that without even noticing it, he went through every single post on her account, like all the photos she was in and same with pictures of books, movies and albums he liked.

He was having dinner with Kal when he noticed that he had a reply on IG. When he opened, he saw it was from the girl with the mesmerizing smile. "I think I should call the police, I have a stalker, 👀 😂" she wrote. "Thank you so much for the mood busting. It means a lot. He brought a lot of light to my life and it's hard to have to say goodbye." she confessed, "but instead of lying in bed crying, I'm going to use that energy to give love to another animal in need, that's what my baby would have wanted, I know it in my heart." she finished. Henry didn't wait for a second to answer her, even if that meant that his food would get cold. "Absolutely! Any animal would be lucky to have you as their momma." he assured, "Sorry for that, I didn't mean to be a creep. I swear I'm nice. I'm Superman" he joked. After a few moments, the girl messaged him again "Superman killed Zod, so...👀😜 ". "Low shot. Also, Zod was a villain" he went on with the conversation. " How do you know that I'm not a villain?" she joked, "Because villains don't love puppies" he grinned like an idiot in love as he pressed send. "Cruella did, though, 👀 😂" she said; "Touché. But I'm sure you're not a villain, you are too cute for that" he explained. "That'd be the perfect cover for a conquer the world masterplan, don't you think? To have everyone trust me and love me for me to be easier to control them?🤔" "Alright, you convinced me. You're the evilest villain in history. So, I should fly to wherever you are and get you." he playfully told her. "And I didn't want to sound creepy 😂. My apologies if my humour seems creepy," he apologized. "I think your humour is genius and I find it cute, no creepy," she pointed out. "Cute enough to meet me in person? 👀" he asked. "Absolutely," she accepted his invitation. "When are you free?" she questioned. Henry looked at the clock, it was 7:30 pm. "I'm free right now if you can." Henry offered, "Do you live in London?". "From the last couple of years, yes. I moved with my mom after my parents got divorced. She's was born here... I mean, yes, I live in London, sorry for the unnecessary information," she requested his forgiveness. "There's no need to apologize. I like getting to know more about you." he explained " Do you want to go to Mark's Club restaurant? It's a nice and quiet place where we can have a nice conversation" he proposed "I think I can get a last-minute reservation since I'm a member of the club." he informed her.  "Sure, I'm going to get ready. Tell me if you get the reservations or we can go anywhere else, I'm sure there are plenty of nice places to eat where there are tables available 😊" she said. "Great, I'm calling them right now!" Henry exclaimed excitedly and went into his phone contact list and press the dial button. He was lucky enough that the manager was a Superman fan and was quite fond of him, so he agreed to reserve a table for him in the busiest night of the year for restaurants. He shared the information to her and went to change as well. He put a white sweater and a nice pair of black pants on and black shoes. A grey blazer was his coat of choice.

He asked for her address to pick her up, but she opted for meeting at the club and he accepted because he understood that maybe she felt unsafe by giving her living information to a stranger. He couldn't lie that this gave him enough time to leave Kal with his friend Ben.

He waited for her inside the restaurant for there were paparazzi outside the place. Mark's Club was an exclusive place where many celebrities choose to eat in, especially in such occasions like Valentine's day - Guy Ritchie and his wife choose that place to spend the night and so did David and Victoria Beckham. Both couples came to greet him as soon as they saw him. His table was about to be ready and she wasn't there yet. He checked for messages on his IG but there were none. Has she stood him up? That'd have broken his heart; no because someone rejected him, but because she did it. He thought that he was losing his mind: being afraid that a girl he met that day on the internet might have played a prank on him and make him believe that she was interested in him.

When he saw that it was 10 pm, he decided that it was better to inform the host of the club that he wouldn't need a table after all. He was about to get up when behind him a female voice called his name. He turned around and stood, speechless. A beautiful woman on a red dress was standing in front of him, showing that glorious smile that captivated him ours ago on his phone.

- I'm so sorry I'm so late.- you apologized profusely - It took me ages to find a cab and then I've spent literally thirty minutes outside trying to get in because paparazzi were being annoying and would get in the way for me to get in.-she explained. - No worries!- he assured her- Honestly, I was a bit afraid that I've had been stood up.-he confessed, styling his hair backwards with his hand. - Absolutely not! I don't particularly enjoy pranks. Especially not in niece people like you.- she smiled and his legs were shaking.

At that moment the waiter approached you to let you know your table was ready. Henry said "Ladies first" indicating you to go first into the table area. The place was elegant. Henry waited behind your chair and as you sat in, he pulled it close to the table. He sat in front of you, grinning like the devil. That charming smile took your breath away.

Every word that came out of your mouth amazed him for your charisma and intelligence. You were not only funny, smart, confident but also beyond beautiful. He knew that wasn't love at first sight, but he could see himself falling deeply in love with you.

Halfway through the dinner, Henry finally noticed that lots of costumers were watching them. He found that odd since he was a regular there and there were plenty of celebrities on that place that night -some way more famous than him.

- I apologized if you feel uncomfortable with people watching us. Usually, they barely look at me. They know I'm an actor, but these fancy folks don't care much for Superheroes.- he explained. You looked at him with a smirk. - They're not looking at you, they are looking at me.- you pointed out. - Are you famous?- he asked confused and you chuckled because he meant it and it wasn't sarcasm. - Yes, I'm Ashley Graham.- you joked and his expression showed ignorance; he didn't know who she was.- She's a model.- you explained and he laughed apologizing for his lack of knowledge on current pop culture. He was beyond cute.- No, I'm not famous. They're looking at me because I'm "fat"; I'm a plus-size woman and they probably can't understand why are you having dinner with me.- you said and smiled- In another point of my life this would have hurt. It did for a long time. Whenever I'd be in a date with a thin man, people would look at us as if they were thinking out loud that he was too good for me, that he could do so much better than a fat girl. Thankfully I'm no longer in a place in which I'd blame myself for their judgement. I'm who I am and I'm ok with that. They can look all they want, they don't mean anything to me.-you shrugged- But, I need to know if that bothers you. I won't judge you if you are not into me. Maybe I'm confusing things, but the fact that you made a last-minute appointment for dinner on this day is because you have some kind of interest on me and I do for you too. I'm in for getting to know each other and maybe be something if we feel it later on. But if that's the case, if I got things wrong and you are not interested in my, just tell me. It's ok and we can be just friends if you want. All I ask from you is not to waste my time. Don't get me to grow feelings for you if you have no intention in returned them.- you requested. Henry went silent for a moment. Then he put his hand on top of yours, grabbed it and kissed it. He grinned and replied, "You got it right, gorgeous."

The dinner continued with you two laughing, drinking fine wine and having delicious desserts. You tried to grab the check but he took it so fast that you barely saw it. "I'll pay next time. That's the condition for me going out again with you" you indicated firmly and he agreed.

As you were about to leave, he noticed you didn't have a coat. "I was so hurried that I forgot to grab one" you explained and he immediately took off his and gave it to you, despite you telling him that you were ok, and helped you to put it on. He held your hand to walk outside, not caring if paparazzi took photos of you and he called a cab for you. It was easier for famous people to get a ride, you noticed. He drove you to your place and walk you to the door. He was much taller than you, so he leaned in to kiss your cheek and kissed your hand as well. Henry promised to call you the next day and walked towards the car. You reminded him of his coat and he asked you to keep it safe for him until next time you saw him. With a big smile, he got in the car and after you entered your place, you heard the cab left.

[beauvibaby]

beautiful- b.boeser

requested [] yes [x] no

brock boeser x plus-size reader

a/n: y’all I really love this it was very self endlugent and yeah, please show it some love 🥺

You smiled, seeing a notification come up in your phone.

@bboeser tagged you in a photo

You opened up Instagram in record speed, a grin overcoming your face at the picture, you and Easton passed out on the couch, coolie and milo curled up at your feet.

“aunt y/n holding down the fort, uncle Brock just gets to watch”

You laughed to yourself at the caption, liking the photo and taking a screenshot of it. You heard the dogs jumping around downstairs, you were about to lock your phone and head downstairs to greet Brock, when you caught a glimpse of a comment. You read it, once, twice, three times, shocked that people who didn’t even know you could just be so cruel. They pointed out how chubby you looked, and how your shirt was tugged into the small roll in your stomach, it took a long time for you to become so confident, you loved yourself, and you knew Brock loved you and that’s all that mattered. But, we all know, when people point out your flaws it’s hard to not hyperfixate on them. Of course you hadn’t looked your best in the picture, you were babysitting Easton, and ended up falling asleep on the couch with him on top of you, your head tilted down to rest on top of his, which of course, made the fullness under your chin more noticeable. You suddenly found yourself chewing on your lip as you refreshed the page, scrolling through the hundred more comments, if you were being truthful, only a fraction of them were rude, most of them were sweet, but it felt like all you could see were the bad ones.

You scrolled through them, moving into the bathroom, you stood in front of the mirror, you were in a pair of leggings and a sports bra, having just been out back playing with the dogs, in the privacy of your and Brock’s yard, but suddenly you felt like you had a million pairs of eyes on you. You read a comment, pointing out the way you had the roll in your stomach, especially towards the sides, you looked in the mirror, eyes instantly falling on the spot, adorned with stretch marks. Your weight had always gone up and down, especially when you were just a young teenager, and now you were littered with stretch marks that would never go away. Not usually something that bothered you, all that you ever worried about was your health, and you were healthy, despite what people were trying to say in the comments, automatically assuming because you were full figured, that you did have a little bit of a stomach, that your thighs were nowhere near having a gap, that your arms had just a little bit of extra weight on them, that you were unhealthy. God how you hated that assumption, it was so rude to assume anyone who wasn’t the typical skinny was unhealthy. Your eyes trained on the marks on your stomach once again, your fingers delicately running over the darker lines, something Brock would do when you laid together on the couch, normally something that made you feel good. Every time he would do the subtle gesture, it made you feel good, feminine, cared for, but in this moment the thought of him ever seeing them again, made your heart jump in your chest. Surely, after reading these, he couldn’t think of you the same again. “Baby?” Brock called, his feet flopping against the stairs, you sucked in a sharp breath, meeting your eyes in the mirror and seeing the so prominent redness in them from the tears welling up. You quickly splashed some water on your face, wiping it off with a towel in an attempt to get rid of some redness, you heard him starting his way down the hallway, and you rushed to grab a shirt, even though it was unlawfully hot outside today, hence the reason you were only in the lightweight leggings and bra. You quickly tugged the material over your head, grimacing when you realized it was one of Brock’s shirts, that just didn’t fit your curves properly, I mean yeah it fit, technically, but it tugged tightly in all the wrong places.

It sat taught on your stomach, showing everything you were trying to hide, but loose in your chest where you weren’t as full as people would think you should be, you were about to tug it back off when you heard him push the door open. “There you are, you didn’t answer me and I got worried.” He sighed softly, walking up behind you, arms going around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Sorry, I spaced out.” You laughed softly, hoping your voice didn’t give you away. He hummed in acknowledgment but you could feel his eyes studying the side of your face, suddenly your thoughts wandered to how horrible your side profile must be, so you tilted your head back to meet his eyes. “I missed you, beautiful.” He mumbled, leaning to press a soft kiss to your lips. You knew he could tell something was bothering you, but you also knew that he could tell you were desperately trying to hide it, he knew how to react when you were like this, he would wait and ask you later, give you a chance to process your own emotions first. “I missed you.” You whispered once he pulled away, you shuffled out of his grip, “I’m going to shower.” You added, disappearing into the bathroom, unknowingly giving him an idea of what could be bothering you, because you shut and locked the door, something neither of you have done for as long as you could remember. He stared at the door for a minute, a small frown on his face as his mind wandered with all the possibilities, you hadn’t seemed upset with him, so he was almost certain he hadn’t unknowingly done something. So that left his other option, someone had said something, he knew people were cruel, and he knew it was part of his life being in the spotlight, but he hated that he had drug you down in it with him. But all he wanted to do was show off the amazing girl that he was so lucky to call his, and the fact that he couldn’t do that without being respected, that really bothered him, because you deserved to be bragged about, you deserved to be filling more of his social media than you were. It was rare that he posted things with you, simply because he knew how it could bother you, but his heart swelled with so much pride when he got the picture of you and his nephew, it only reminded him how much he wanted that with your own kids one day.

He hadn’t realized how long he was standing there thinking about it until he heard the water shut off, and he scrambled to get out of there, not wanting you to know he’d been standing there the whole time. He rushed out of the room, doing his best to stay quiet as you unlocked the bathroom door. You stepped out, towel wrapped tightly around your body, you did a quick once over, looking for him before you stepped out, you went and grabbed some clean lounge clothes, not planning on leaving the house today, but you made sure the ones you grabbed fit you properly. Once you were satisfied enough with your appearance, you trudged down the stairs, coolie rushing over to jump at you while milo slept in his bed. You laughed stopping to pet him, when you looked up you spotted Brock rummaging around in the kitchen, he undoubtedly had to be hungry, just coming back from playing golf with some friends. You were hungry, waiting for him to come home to eat, but now you cringed a little at the thought, not in the way where you wanted to not eat, but your stomach was still in knots from reading those comments. “Hi, baby.” You spoke up, walking past him, opening the fridge and pulling out a water. “Hi.” Brock responded, looking over at you with a grin, you couldn’t help but smile back, his smile was so contagious. “Why are you so smiley?” You teased softly, stepping over towards his outstretched arms, he all but yanked you into him, your chin resting on his chest so you could look up at him. “Mhm, ‘cause I get to spend the rest of the day at home with my girl.” He mumbled, lips ghosting over your forehead, you let your eyes flutter shut for a moment. But it didn’t last long when his finger tips dipped underneath your shirt, his fingers running over your skin soothingly, “don’t do that.” He whispered when you tried to shimmy away from him. “What?” You gasped, feeling like you’d been caught red handed.

“The picture I posted, I know people are just so fucking rude, but you can’t listen to them baby, because none of what they say is true.” He spoke sternly, but softly, one hand staying on your waist, the other coming up to cup your cheek. “But it is true, the way my stomach rolls in on the side, and how chubby my face is, and my thighs rub together and-“ “stop it, you’re beautiful, inside and out.” He cut you off, his brows knit together slightly. “Baby girl, I love you, and everything you just said that you didn’t like.” He continued, watching as your breathing hitched momentarily, “I love it when you know I’m having a bad day and you make me lay my head in your lap, or when we’re going on long drives and I just grab your leg and rub it while you go to sleep. I love squeezing your beautiful face to make you give me a kiss when you’re being goofy,” he paused to do just that, a hand on either side of your face, squeezing together and making your lips fall into a soft pout that he kissed. “And I love grabbing you just like this,” his hands went back to your sides, gripping you snuggly, “so I can hold you close and not let you go.” He concluded, “no, you’re not supposed to cry, baby.” He pouted softly when you looked at him with big watery eyes. “I love you.” You whispered hiding your face in his neck, “I love you too, so much.” He laughed softly, feeling your tears fall on his skin. “Please don’t cry anymore.” He nudged your head with his own, “they’re happy tears.” You sniffled, pulling back to look at him. “How’d I get so lucky?” You wondered aloud, “I should be asking the same thing.”

taglist: @jmaybanks​ @softstarkey​ @literarycharleton​ @mtkachuk​ @wtfkie​

[fanfics-for-the-hockey-fan]

My Treasure - William Nylander

Request: Can you do one where you are pregnant with William nylanders baby and getting hate and he makes you feel better

Getting pregnant at 24 was definitely not a part of my 5 year post college plan. Then again falling in love wasn't one of my bullet points either. But when my period was over a week late I knew that everything was about to change. William was thrilled when he saw the bolded word on the pregnancy test, immediately wanting to tell anyone he could. I was a little more hesitant to share the news.

I knew that I wanted children someday and those feelings intensified once my relationship with William became serious, I just figured we would be married and I would be a little more secure in my teaching job before we would add a baby to the mix. We told our families first and they were all excited and happy for us, same with friends and teammates. The real problem came when we started to share the news with the rest of the world. On William's social media everyone was happy for us and wishing us well, but mine is where all of the hate went.

She probably got knocked up so he couldn't leave her.

Hopefully you don't gain too much baby weight, you could already stand to lose a little.

You're not even pregnant with his kid I bet, just went to the guy with the biggest paycheck.

I did my best to delete the comments as soon as I saw them, hiding them from William so he wouldn’t get upset. Some people didn't get the hint after the first deleted comment and I would end up blocking them. Two weeks after announcing our pregnancy the nasty comments were outweighing the nice ones of my post. My pregnancy hormones went crazy one day when my pants didn't fit for the first time of the pregnancy and William was away on a road trip until the morning.

I canceled my plans to go get dinner with some friends and instead had a pity party in some of William's clothes with ice cream and reading through all the horrible things that were being said about me.

I can't believe he is still with her, she is not pretty enough for him.

Fat cow

You are going to ruin his career with the child.

I cried myself to sleep on the couch after midnight and didn't wake up until someone was brushing some hair out of my face. Slowly opening my eyes I saw a concerned William kneeling on the floor in front of me. "Ellie, what’s wrong? Were you crying?" I sat up, making room for William next to me before he pulled me into his lap. "Your friends texted me last night and told me you skipped on going to dinner with them. Is everything okay? Is the baby okay?"

"The baby is fine, I just couldn't find anything that fit comfortably with the bump. I had a pity party with ice cream and must have fallen asleep." Everything I said was true, I just left out one major thing.

"I'm sorry babe, but can I finally buy you some new maternity clothes? Please." He gave me puppy dog eyes as he begged, causing me to laugh and turn to face him more.

"You love shopping more than I do."

"Is that a yes? I'm taking that as a yes. Go get ready, shopping might take all day." With that he was carrying me down the hall, laughing the entire way. When he finally set me down I managed to find a t-shirt dress that wasn't too uncomfortable and proceeded to get ready.

***

After a full day of shopping William took me out to dinner at our favorite Spanish restaurant. I excused myself after we ordered a bunch of small plates to share to run to the bathroom and when I got back William was standing at the table with a large plastic bag and shaking hands with the owner. "What's going on?" 

"I thought you might be more comfortable if we went home and ate. I've kept you busy most of the day so I know your feet must be bothering you." His tone was off but I brushed it off as we headed out. The drive home was a tense silence without even the radio playing.

I didn't say anything until we were in the apartment and William started slamming cabinet doors as he got plates. "What's wrong?"

"I just don't get why people spend so much time trying to make other people down! Like, what does it do for them?" He had a fire in his eyes I had only ever seen on the ice, and I wasn't sure what was causing it.

"I'm going to some more context here. Did something happen at the restaurant?"

"Before we left the last store I took a couple of pictures for our shopping day and posted them to Instagram. I thought it was no big deal, just sharing what I was up to on a day off. And then when you were in the bathroom your phone started buzzing like crazy so I thought someone was trying to call you. But all of your notifications were for Instagram, and I know I shouldn't have opened the app on your phone but I thought maybe it was your girlfriends' group chat and Sophie finally got engaged." I let out a small chuckle at that, we basically were taking bets on when her and her high school sweetheart would finally take the next step.

"I'm guessing that isn't what you saw." I knew what he was going to say next but I was hoping with every fiber of my being that I was wrong.

"No, I saw the worst of humanity in your DMs. I just- how can people be so cruel?" William slumped into the bar stool next to me at the island as I reached for my phone having to see what was sent to me now. "Ellie…" I ignored his worried warning as I opened up the app, going to my DMs.

Fat cow, you only got pregnant so that you could lock in some who is far too good for you. I hope he sees he could do so much better and kicks you out before that baby ruins his career and life!

So you are just using him for his money. I bet the baby isn’t even his, probably a teammate who makes less. Whore!

Bitch, why are you even with Willy? He is a literal hockey god and from what i can tell you are just some stupid high school math teacher. He can do so much better than you. 

There were over 50 messages just like those, all sent within the last hour. I didn't even dare look at the comments on my latest post, even though it was a few days old the braver trolls put their nasty messages there for the whole world to see.

"How long has this been happening?" I had hopped off my stool, going to plate up the food we brought home and trying to avoid the conversation I knew we needed to have. "Ellie… Please talk to me. How long?"

"Honestly, since we started posting that we were dating. It's gotten worse since we posted that we are gonna be parents."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because part of me thought that if I just deleted the messages and comments that it wasn't real. That if I was the only one who knew that I could just pretend that it was all in my head. Then there is that stupid voice in my head that likes to play up my insecurities, that made me feel like if you saw what people were sending me that you would believe it. And I know that thinking that is stupid and unrealistic but it can sometimes be the loudest thing in there." William also got off his stool, coming to stand right in front of me. He kissed my forehead before cupping my cheeks and holding eye contact.

"Min skatt, never feel like you have to hide this from me. You are the one I am in love with and want to spend the rest of my life with. You are the only one that can make me smile and laugh when I am in a bad mood after a game. You are the only one I see myself growing old, and possibly bald with." I let out a gasp at the word bald, he was so protective about his hair.

"See, the rational part of me knows all that."

"Well, let me make it clear to every part of you. I love you with every fiber of my being and as soon as I meet with your father next week to ask for his blessing, I will be asking you to marry me."

"Will…"

"But I am going to need you to act surprised when I ask." That got a small chuckle out of me. 

"I'll do my best." William's stomach growled then, making both laugh. "Let's eat before your stomach starts communicating with us again." William just nods, a thoughtful look on his face that I'm sure would cause problems later but right now I just wanted to live in the happy moment.

After reheating the food and settling at the kitchen island to eat, I went through and deleted all the DMs and comments. I barely registered what they said as I deleted. What I didn't know was Will was looking at the comments as I deleted before pulling out his own phone. It was only when my phone buzzed with another notification that I found out what he was doing. 

@williamnylander tagged you in a post

The post was two pictures side by side; the first was from our first date at a Christmas market, all bundled up and snuggled into each other as we took the photo in a mirror. The other picture was a selfie he took of us at my last doctor's appointment for the pregnancy, both of us were all smiles as I sat on the exam table with a picture of the sonogram on the screen behind us.

Two pictures of the love of my life. One from our first date, where I was a clutz and spilt hot chocolate all over her light grey coat and she still agreed to a second date. The other from a few weeks ago when we got another look at our baby. 

I can say without any doubt that having Ellie in my life has only made it better. She has become my sounding board for when I'm frustrated, my motivation to score more goals, and my ray of sunshine on any cloudy day. 

I knew from that first date that Ellie was the one for me, no one can tell me otherwise. And now she is carrying our first child. My heart continues to grow and fall in love with this amazing, kind, dedicated, caring, loving, and perfect woman each day.

I am so lucky to spend time with you each day and anyone who says otherwise is wrong and jealous of what we have.

Min skat, I am so excited to watch our family grow and experience the joys and challenges of parenthood with you. Ellie I love you and can't wait to see where we go next. 

Together.

The tears started flowing before I even read the caption, the pictures enough with my pregnancy hormones. But the words William managed to write push me over the edge, I was crying at the love he put into the words but also laughing at the not so subtle 'fuck you' to all the nasty people who sent you messages.

"Did I overstep? I don’t want to embarrass you."

"It's perfect. You're perfect. I love you."

"I love you too, and I plan on showing you that everyday. Even if it is something as simple as an Instagram post."

"It's not just the post, it's that you are saying to all the people who see your pictures and then come trash talk to me that you know about them. And that will probably stop some of them from doing it again. And anyone who doesn't get the message gets blocked."

"Good. Now, let go watch some TV and cuddle." Nodding grabbing my plate of food, following William to the couch before curling into his side.

As William pulled up the next episode of a show we were binging, I thought of something. "You never have told me what 'min skat' means."

"It means 'my treasure'. And it reminds me how lucky I am every day to have you in my life."

[fanficimagery]

Cheap Thrills

Summary: Imagine receiving drunk text messages from a random number. Even when you make it known you're not who the person is looking for, the texts keep coming. And it's not until you make a post about the texts, complete with screenshots, do you find out who it is.

Words: 3.9K Warnings: None that I can think of.

[From XXX-XXX-XXXX]: u awake? [From XXX-XXX-XXXX]: miss u [From XXX-XXX-XXXX]: can i come over? [From XXX-XXX-XXXX]: hello?

You read the texts, snorting at the poor unfortunate individual who typed in the wrong number. Thumbs tapping out a message of your own, you send it before getting back to your movie.

[To XXX-XXX-XXXX]: i'm sure whoever you're trying to reach misses you too? But sorry to say you have the wrong number.

The random number doesn't text you back so you continue on with your night as if nothing had happened. But the next morning, when you wake up, you find yet another text message from the random number.

[From XXX-XXX-XXXX]: i am so sorry about those texts. I was drunk.

[To XXX-XXX-XXXX]: lol it's alright. You're forgiven.

You've had random numbers text you from time to time, but never a number that texts you in a drunken stupor yet again even after you've told them they had the wrong number. So the following night, you're surprised to see the stranger's number pop up again.

[From XXX-XXX-XXXX]: what r u doin?

[To XXX-XXX-XXXX]: umm…

[From XXX-XXX-XXXX]: r u a chick or a dude lol..

You snort. Of course. It's definitely a guy texting because had it been a drunk female there's no way she'd care to find out the gender. She'd most likely just text to her heart's content before passing out without a care in the world whether it was a guy or girl listening to her rant.

[To XXX-XXX-XXXX]: chick.

[From XXX-XXX-XXXX]: yess! Boyfriend?

[To XXX-XXX-XXXX]: jesus. You're really in top form tonight, aren't you?

[From XXX-XXX-XXXX]: baby i'm in top form every night ;)

[To XXX-XXX-XXXX]: and on that note, I'm out. Don't forget to chug some water before bed, Stranger Danger.

The texts continue the following weekend, the drunken stranger flirting to his heart's content. He's funny, is definitely down to cuddle, and really wants to spend the night though he has no clue who you are. You had asked for a name, but never got an answer. You weren't too alarmed about not knowing it since he was never really serious about coming over (at least you hoped not), but your curiosity ended up getting the better of you.

So after screenshotting a couple pages, you post them to Twitter after blacking out every number but the last four with the caption: Get you a stranger who'll drunk text you even after explaining you're not who he's looking for..

You weren't really expecting the screenshots to blow up the way they did, nor for anyone to actually know your drunken stranger, but sure enough a week later you're receiving private messages from none other than David Dobrik himself.

Planning to meet David Dobrik leaves you feeling a bit anxious, but you calm when he tells you his assistant Natalie will be joining him. So after hastily making some plans, you agree on meeting in a public park where there will be others around to make you feel a bit more comfortable.

You choose a pretty shaded spot beneath a tree in clear view of everyone milling about the park, and plop down with an assortment of snacks as you wait for David and Natalie to show up. Fortunately for you, you don't have to wait long. Natalie video calls you to find exactly where you're at and when she does it's not long before you're meeting them face to face.

David's already giggling and recording when he steps up to you, and you can't help but smile in return as you stand to greet them. "Hey. So, uh, it's cool to meet you guys." You briefly hug each of them before gesturing for them to sit with you.

"Likewise," David says. He and Natalie sit, and you offer them some of your snacks which Natalie readily digs in to. "So not to be rude and rush you, but can I please see the texts?"

You chuckle. "Yeah." Bringing forth your phone, you pull up the numerous texts from the number David claims to know. As you pass him your phone, you ask, "So you gonna tell me who Stranger Danger finally is?"

Natalie's eyes widen before she swats at David's arm. "You haven't told her?!"

"Ow! What?"

"David," she sighs.

You watch them, grinning. "I mean I kind of understood why David waited, but I'm really curious as to which one of your friends is thirsty as fuck to be texting a stranger."

David laughs as he continues to read. "Did he really say I'll show you mine if you show me yours?"

You grimace. "Yeah. Even sent me a dick pic which is why I tell him that I don't wanna see the peen a few texts down."

"Oh my god," Natalie muses. "He didn't."

"He did. Now can I please know whose penis I have seared into my brain?"

Natalie facepalms as David says, "Toddy."

"Toddy?" You brow furrows as you try to recall which one Toddy is. It isn't until Natalie shows you a picture of Toddy on her own phone do your eyes widen. "Oh. Oh wow."

David snorts and Natalie winks as she puts her phone away. "So you never once asked what he looked like?" She then asks as David screenshots everything he can before airdropping the pictures to his own phone.

"I mean I didn't really care about what he looked like," you shrug. "I found amusement in the texts and it surprised me that he continued to text every time he got drunk. I asked for a name eventually, but he never gave one."

"So he doesn't know your name or what you look like?" David asks, finally looking up at you.

"Nope."

He slowly smiles and Natalie groans. "I know that look. I hate that look. What are you thinking?"

David giggles. "I'm thinking of surprising Todd." You must make a face because David's quick to finish explaining. "It'll just be us and Todd. We can all hang out at my place and if the others show up, they show up. It'll be fine."

"I- I mean.." You trail off, glancing at Natalie. "What do you think? You've got a clearer head on your shoulders."

"Hey!"

Natalie huffs a small laugh. "It could be fun," she then says with a small shrug. "Todd will definitely find it funny, especially since you exposed him on Twitter. He'll also be happy that you're cute."

You blush as they stare at you, anxiously awaiting your answer. And after taking a moment to think about it, you sigh. "What the hell. Let's do it."

David cheers and they waste no time in helping you gather your trash. David offers for Natalie to drive his car while he drives with you, and she agrees. Then on the way to his house, David records some more to get more of your story for his vlog.

He finds out you're single to which he ooh's at and casually mentions that Todd is single as well, and is quite fascinated to learn that you think his friend is hot. You laugh and end up blushing, so to make you feel a little better he mentions that you're his friend's type as well. But all too soon you're pulling up to David's house where he's instructing you to park behind the safety of his gate.

You've seen his house in several of his videos, but it still leaves you awestruck as they lead you inside. All shoes are left by the front door and you can't help but stare at the ridiculously large bean bag chair when you enter the living room.

"Dibs."

"On?" David asks, he and Natalie immediately plopping down on the couch and stretching out on opposite ends.

"The bean bag." You cautiously take a seat and let yourself sink into it, smiling at David's giggling. Once you're completely laid back and curled up, you sigh in contentment. "I definitely need to invest in one of these."

"It really is comfortable." David taps away on his phone, humming. "So Todd should be here in a couple of hours. Does anyone want to order food while we wait?"

"Food. Yes!" Natalie groans.

"Does anyone deliver a good burger? I am so down for a burger and fries," you grumble.

David turns on his TV while Natalie orders the food. Bohemian Rhapsody is on and you urgently plead for David to leave it on that. He does and you have no shame in singing along or clapping to the Queen songs. The We Will Rock You scene leads you to performing your own rendition of the song, and both David and Natalie crack up when you sing the entire song from heart.

The food eventually gets there and you all take a seat at the kitchen counters. However, not even halfway through with your food, Todd texts David that he's outside.

"Oh shit, Y/N. Hide!" David tells you.

You nearly fall off your stool to which Natalie nearly chokes on her food laughing at, but she's quick to help you into the guest bathroom that's just around the corner. She leaves you alone and rejoins David, and it's not long before a third voice enters the mix.

          ----------

Todd walks into the kitchen, yawning and ruffling his hair. He nods at Natalie as she washes a few dishes to place in the dishwasher, and then takes a seat next to David who has his camera set up across from him.

"So what's going on?" He asks, stealing a french fry from the tray in front of him.

"I called you over here because I want to hear your side of the story," David informs him, slowly grinning.

Todd freezes, nervously chuckling as Natalie smirks at him. "About?"

"About this." David pulls up tweet that went viral, showing Toddy the screenshots of his text messages.

"She didn't," Todd exclaims, laughing. "Fuck. She did!"

"You've been exposed," Natalie muses. "How does it feel?"

"How did you even find these? Or even connect them back to me," Todd then wonders. "Wait does she have a pic?"

"No," David laughs, taking back his phone. "And I know it's you because the last four digits are the exact same as yours, and when I DM'd her I confirmed that the number she had was the same one I had for you. It was a long shot really, but I'm glad I took that leap of faith."

"You talked to her?!"

"Yeah. She's really cool. I think you'd like her."

"Really?"

"Really," Natalie agrees. "And if you keep eating her food, she's going to murder you."

          ----------

"And if you keep eating her food, she’s going to murder you."

"My food?" You mumble. But then Natalie's words click and your eyes widen. You can hear Todd beginning to ask something, but you throw open the door and march out towards the kitchen. "Not another bite, Stranger Danger!"

Todd nearly falls off the stool from where he whirls around so fast and you can't help but laugh. He's surprised, but beams a moment later, and you slowly walk towards him.

"You're the- you're her?"

"Yep." You stop a few feet in front of him. "And you're him- the drunk texter."

"Holy shit." He laughs, shaking his head at David whose recording it all, and then asks you, "Can I hug you? Is that weird?"

"You've sent me a dick pic, man. There's no getting more weird than that."

The tips of Todd's ears burn red as he moves in for a hug and you embrace him briefly. When he lets go, however, he keeps one arm around your shoulders as he faces David's camera once more. "So how much of my texts have you actually seen?"

"Everything but the picture," David giggles. "Y/N deleted it."

"Y/N?" Todd then glances down at you.

"Yep. And you're Todd. It's nice to officially meet you."

"Aw. Aren't you two adorable," David teases. "Now come on. Let's move this to the living room. It's getting weird just standing around."

"Wait. Hold on." You scurry forward and grab up your half eaten burger, taking one last big bite from it before heading towards the living room.

Todd watches you go, gaze adoringly watching your every step. "Marry me."

With bulging cheeks, you wink and continue on.

David and Natalie retake their spots on the couch, and the bean bag is so large that Todd throws himself next to you after you've settled down. The problem with the bean bag, however, is that you end up sliding towards Todd since he's heavier. He winks when you bump into him and you huff a laugh, but you get settled either way and pull out your phone to give you something to do.

Todd, you find out, is an Instagram hoe and you find yourself taking numerous selfies with him- some with filters and some without. You're even in his Instastories, laughing and trying to cover your face, but it's no use. He gives no explanation as to who you are, only that you're a friend. He even posts quick little videos of David and Natalie, and you arguing with David over which movie to watch.

You have no idea how long you've been with the group, only that it feels like you've known these people for a long time, so it's no big surprise that other friends of theirs show up to hang out.

Erin and Carly show up together, followed by Zane and Matt.

"Wait. So let me get this straight," Erin exclaims. "You," she points at Todd, "have been texting her," she then points at you, "for weeks? And you had no clue what the other looked like or names and this is your first time meeting?"

From your position- Todd stretched out one way and you the other with your legs draped over his- you grin. "Yep."

"Todd!" Carly laughs. "What even- how?"

"I thought I was texting Corinna!" He defends himself, chuckling. "I deleted Corinna's number, and she and Y/N have similar numbers. Totally accidental."

Everyone glances at you and you roll your eyes. "Chill. I knew his texts were intended for the ex. I even encouraged him to text her, but his drunken self found more amusement with a stranger."

Natalie snorts. "I'll say. He asked for nudes pretty frequently."

"Todd!" Matt cackles at the same time Zane muses, "Baby, no."

"Don't worry, I never sent them. I got more respect for myself than that," you say. "Todd, on the other hand, has no shame."

"You didn't," Erin says.

"It was one time!"

"It was still a dick pic." You grin. "And come on, man, who are you trying to kid? Your texts were thirsty as fuck at times."

"I have got to see these texts," Zane says.

Smirking, you pull up the text messages on your phone and move to toss your phone to an eager Zane. But seeing what you're about to do, Todd grips your thigh just enough to make you laugh in surprise. "Y/N, don't."

Zane's still reaching for the phone so Todd rolls over you. You grunt at the added weight, wiggling just enough to roll both you and Todd off the bean bag and onto the floor. You both grunt when you land.

"Oh my god," David laughs. "This is better than two girls fighting in baby oil."

Everyone's laughing now, especially when Todd says, "There's nothing better than two girls fighting in baby oil," as he gets the upper hand and straddles your stomach.

Your phone slips out of your hand, which he's quick to grab up, but with your free hand you're free to pinch Todd's nipple through his shirt. He yelps and you're quick to buck him off, you then rolling the both of you in order to straddle his stomach before reaching towards his outstretched arm for your phone.

Todd goes oddly still before giggling and it's all too easy to reclaim your phone. "You know what, I'm not even mad about this position."

Slightly leaning up to glance between you and Todd, you huff a laugh when you see his face is practically in between your tits. "You're a dick." As you fully sit up, you pinch Todd again to which he giggles at and then toss your phone at Zane. "You have free reign to read every one of Todd's texts now. Enjoy." Zane cheers, Matt, Erin, and Carly quickly crowding him to read them as well.

Todd pokes your waist and you flinch, your waist being very ticklish, and the two of you end up slapping each other's hands as you slide off of him and back onto the beanbag. Todd's beaming smile makes your heart beat a little harder and you're grateful he can't hear it.

"You're kind of strong," Todd says as he ends up settling next to you once more.

"I should hope so. I grew up with two older brothers. You best believe they tried every wrestling move on me until I learned how to get out of it."

"They still tease you?"

"All the time." You slowly smile, chuckling at fond memories. "What about you? Any siblings you fight with?"

"Nah. I'm an only child."

"So you're an only child who still acts like a child, huh?"

"Hey!"

Todd reaches over as if he's going to tickle you and you curl up in order to protect yourself. "No! I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

He chuckles softly and reaches for you again, but he only hooks an arm under your neck and pulls you in so you're curled into his side. "How much longer can you stay?"

You hum. "Not much longer," you admit. "I live about an hour away so I should be on the road pretty soon."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Zane, Matt, Carly, and Erin are still hysterical over Todd's drunken texts, David and Natalie are in their own world, as are you and Todd. His calm demeanor puts you at ease and you suddenly find yourself wishing you could stay much longer in his presence.

"Aw. Look at them," David suddenly teases. When you and Todd look at him, David smirks. "You're welcome."

You snort. "Shut up." Todd opens up his phone to momentarily distract himself, but in doing so you see the time. "Shit," you mumble. "It's already that late? I need to go."

Todd's head snaps in your direction. "Aw. No."

"Sorry, but I need to." He frowns and your heart goes out to him for a bit. "Tell you what. Let's go grab some dinner. You take your car and I'll take mine so I can leave afterward."

"Fuck it. Let's do it." You and Todd stand up, and everyone readily stares at you. "Nope," he tells them. "None of you are invited."

As the weeks slowly pass, nothing really changes with the exception that you've made friends with several Youtubers, and Todd's taken to texting you when he's sober as well now- maybe even hanging out when he's not with everyone else. So it's really no surprise when you get a FaceTime call from David as you're scrolling through social media before you put a movie on.

Accepting the call, you squint at the too bright room on David's end. "Do you have to have all those lights on? Jesus." As you move around, you end up laying back on your pillows.

He grins. "It's not even midnight. Why are you in bed already?"

"I'm not in bed-bed." You roll your eyes. "I was just getting ready to watch a movie. It just so happens that it's more enjoyable to watch from the comfort of a bed."

"Yeah? Which movie?"

"Guess."

"Bohemian Rhapsody."

"Goddammit."

David giggles. "You have a serious problem when it comes to that kid from Jurassic Park who's all grown up now."

"Joe Mazzello went from an adorable little nerd to total daddy material. He deserves all my love."

"Jesus Christ." You grin at David's amusement. Eventually though, his laughter tapers off. "Well I'll let you get back to your movie, but I need to record something real quick. You game?"

"If it involves me leaving my bed, then no. Other than that, let's do this."

"No. This is good." David props his phone up so he can hold his camera with both hands and record the call. Then, he says, "So since I posted the video of you and Todd meeting, the viewers have gone crazy."

"Of course they have."

"Inquiring minds need to know," he smirks, "if you're still Todd's booty text or if an honest friendship has blossomed from my intervening?"

You roll your eyes, teeth digging into the bottom corner of your lip as you fight off a blush. "Why does this feel like an episode of Catfish where the host is checking in weeks later to see how I'm doing?"

"Just answer the question, Y/N."

"Fine." You sigh. "Hold on." Getting out of bed, you then make your way downstairs. Heading for the kitchen, you then flip the camera on your phone. "Does this answer your question?"

Upon hearing your voice, Todd turns around from his place at the kitchen island where he was fixing a bowl of popcorn. He smiles. "What are you doing?"

"Oh my god!"

Todd's smile falters but your wink lets him know all is good. Sidling up to his left side, you hip check him as you flip the camera back so it catches both you and Todd. "An honest friendship has blossomed," you say. "I am introducing him to my current favorite movie."

Todd chuckles as he leans closer to the screen, his expression then morphing into one of mock horror. "Help me."

"No way. Natalie owes me twenty bucks! NATALIE!" David then sets his camera aside, picking his phone back up as he starts walking around. "So how long have you guys been hanging out for behind our backs?"

"Since you introduced us face to face," Todd says. "And we weren't exactly going behind your back, we just-"

"We wanted to hang out without anyone making a big deal out of it." You shrug. "But it's been long enough and you're going to make a big deal out of it no matter what, so.."

"So if you don't mind," Todd says as he takes your phone from you, "Y/N and I got a movie to watch."

"Wait! Just answer one question," David says. Todd goes quiet, nodding. "Did you finally get Y/N to cuddle you?"

Todd and David explode with laughter at the same time, and that seems to be all David needs to hear. You take your phone back, shaking your head. "Goodbye, David. We'll text you later if you're still awake." And before he can retort, you end the call before pocketing your phone.

"I guess the cat's out of the bag," Todd muses, shrugging sheepishly.

"Well not the whole cat." You slowly smile, leaning up on the tips of your toes and pressing your lips to Todd's. "And it's going to stay that way just a little bit longer. Your fans are crazy."

"Whatever you say, babe. Now can we please go watch that movie of yours? You got me all hyped up after those Queen songs you played all afternoon long."

"Sure thing." Todd grabs the bowl of popcorn and you grab some drinks from the refrigerator. As he follows you back up the stairs, you say, "Now don't get all huffy when I eventually swoon. I adore you, but I adore Joe and Gwilym just a little bit more."

"You're a terrible girlfriend."

"And I'm afraid I don't get much better." You huff a laugh. "You signed up for this, babe. Get used to it."

[striveattemptfail]

Football Vs. Husband: Which Do You Know Better? | Zimbits ft. Tater, G, 1.8k

Summary: Bitty gets quizzed on two of his favourite things: Jack and...... football?

Based on the Buzzfeed video of the same name. Takes place sometime in Sept-Oct 2019. Minor spoilers for 4.25 Faber and 4.26 Check, Please! (If you can call em spoilers LOL.)

Read on Ao3

A/N: Fun fact: At the time I wrote this (2017), it was set in the “future” (2019), but now that year is literally the past for us hahahahahahskfjasldfjasldfjklaskdfj. In the fic summary I say “minor spoilers” because what I originally wrote as wish fulfillment in 2017 became canon in 2020.

Anyway, this is a near verbatim copy of Ned Fulmer getting quizzed on his wife vs football—like fr some of the dialogue is exactly the same LOL. Thanks to @smol0ctopus​ for the beta and the omg stream! please server for advice!<3 Any other mistakes are mine.

YouTube transcript of Football Vs. Husband (Check, Please! #151: A Falconers Special!) [Descriptive captions by biittyyreciipees, airhockeycanbeviolent, and f4lcsboy: Check, Please! Captioning Team]

Eric Hey, y’all! Didja miss me? Because I sure did miss you! Now, today’s video is a lil special. Y’all’ll see that I’ve got myself some lovely guests here from Providence’s own Falconers team. (gestures towards Jack and Tater) Say hi guys!

Tater (waves) Hi!

Jack (single nod, smiles) Hello.

Eric I’ve got here regular guest and my husband, Jack Zimermann, and his teammate, Alexei Mashkov—

Tater But you call me Tater!

Eric (laughs) But we call him Tater! Tater, why don’t you explain what’ll happen here today?

Tater Is collaboration with Falcs TV! We had special tournament to see if players knows their SOAPs more than favorite thing.

ONSCREEN CAPTION SOAPs = Significant Others And Partners, for all y’all non-hockey fans out there! Click here (highlighted annotation inserted) to watch the tournament on the Falconer’s official website or check this video’s description!

Eric I had me such a great time over on Falcs TV with Jack that I wanted to share the fun with y’all here!

Tater (nods) Zimmboni crush everyone in tournament!

ONSCREEN CAPTION “Zimmboni” is Jack’s hockey nickname, like “Tater” is for Alexei. Everyone on the team has one! In fact, I have one too: Bitty! But Alexei likes to call me “B”.

Jack (shrugs, gives small smile) I know history. I know my husband.

Eric (laughs, blushes)

Tater Now, is time to see if B know Zimmboni just as much!

Eric I’m feelin’ pretty confident that I do. What do you think, sweetpea?

Jack I think Bits knows me better than myself, to be honest.

Eric Jack! (blushing again)

Tater Yes, yes, is very cute! But I’m want to ask questions now, yes?

Eric (turns to camera) Now, I tried to get ‘em to quiz me on baking—because y’all and your mama know that I love it—but Jack here insisted that I get asked about football instead.

Jack Baking’s too easy. I figured you’d appreciate the challenge. You know a lot about American football, eh?

Eric (rolls eyes) “American football”—I know y’all in Canada just call it football too! Now, I’d argue, but that’ll take up the rest of this video, so I guess it’s time to get to the quiz!

Tater Yes!

(video transition with dramatic music)

Tater (holds up stack of cards in hands) Here, I’m hold questions about NFL and college football, plus questions about Zimmboni for B to answer. Like during Falcs’ tournament, I’m ask SOAP about their favorite subject first, then ask about their partner. B, is ready?

Eric As I’ll ever be!

Jack Gonna crush it, Bits.

Eric Let’s hope so, sweetheart.

Tater Will be good, B, I’m sure! Question one, name five offensive positions in the NFL.

Eric Lord, how easy—quarterback, running back, wide receiver, offensive tackle, tight end.

ONSCREEN CAPTION Score: 5/5

Tater See, B! You be fine! Name five of Zimmboni’s favourite foods.

Eric Ooh, alright. So PB&J sandwiches, chicken tenders... scrambled eggs, uh, cassoulet... (Caption Note: French food pronunciation is not butchered, because food)

ONSCREEN CAPTION Score: 4/5

Tater One more, B.

Eric Hm, let’s see—

Tater (snickers) Remember this easiest question in stack.

Eric Oh, hush, you.

Jack Bits? Maybe a dessert?

Eric (hits head with base of palm) Oh, goodness me, right! Maple sugar crusted apple pie.

ONSCREEN CAPTION Score: 5/5

Tater (nods) Yes. Okay, how many minutes in football quarter?

ONSCREEN CAPTION Answer: Quarters in the NFL and NCAA football are 15 minutes.

Eric 15 minutes.

Tater How long is Zimmboni’s pre-game ritual?

ONSCREEN CAPTION Answer: 15 minutes max. Like all athletes, hockey players have specific rituals before their games.

Eric About thirty minutes?

Tater (whooping laughter) 15 minutes, max.

Jack (laughs)

Eric (gasps, shakes head) That is not true, that can not be true! Honey, I’ve seen you take 15 minutes making your pre-game PBJ sandwiches. (scoffs)

Jack (makes a face)

Tater Sorry, B. Must give big zero for that question.

Eric (rolls eyes) Hmph!

Tater B, you get 20 seconds—name as many starting quarterbacks in the NFL as possible. Ready, set, go!

Eric Matt Ryan, Aaron Rodgers, Josh Allen, Philip Rivers, Tom Brady—ugh—Baker Mayfield, Derek Carr, Carson Palmer.

ONSCREEN CAPTION Score: 8

Tater Have 10 seconds, name as many as Zimmboni’s lineys when he finally move to first line.

ONSCREEN CAPTION Lineys = Hockey linemates. Fun fact: Jack moved from third to first line during his first season in the Falcs back in 2015!

Eric (opens mouth)

Tater But! Must name them by nickname!

Eric (single nod, determined expression)

Tater Okay? Ready, set, go!

Eric Alright so excluding Jack, that’ll be you, Tater, then we got Marty, Thirdy, Guy, and Snowy if you count the goalies!

Tater (solemnly nods) Always count goalies!

Eric Then that’s five for five. Gettin’ a lil easy there!

ONSCREEN CAPTION Score: 5/5

Tater Haha! Okay, who are on cover of Sports Illustrated for this season’s NFL and college previews?

ONSCREEN CAPTION Answer: Jarvis Landry and Odell Beckham Jr. were on the cover for the NFL preview. Trevor Lawrence was on the cover for the college preview.

Eric Oh, Coach and I were just talkin’ about this! I know the NFL preview was Odell Beckham Jr. and Jarvis Landry, but the college preview... (brief pause, placing chin on fist contemplatively) I think it’s Trevor Lawrence?

Tater Correct! What magazine cover did Zimmboni appear on first?

ONSCREEN CAPTION Answer: Trick question! Jack’s first ever appearance on a magazine cover was not as a hockey player. He first appeared on People Magazine as a baby with his parents, Robert “Bad bob” Zimmermann and Alicia Zimmermann.

Eric Can I ask a question?

Tater ...no.

Eric Well, shoot, alright. If you mean his first cover as an athlete, I’ll say Sports Illustrated, but if you mean his first one ever I think it’s People Magazine when he was a baby.

Tater (censored beep) Wow!

Jack (raises eyebrows) You remember that?

Eric Well, you told me! And Alicia did show me when we visited for Christmas one year. (smug smirk)

Jack (covers face in hand, exasperated sigh) Of course she did.

Tater Next question! How many Super Bowl rings does Tom Brady have?

Eric Oh goodness. I think it’s five?

Tater Six!

Eric What?

Tater Is six!

Eric (groans) Of course it’s six. Whatever, it’s fine, I try not to think about Tom Brady anyway. I don’t mind getting this one wrong. In fact, I’m kinda glad because I certainly don’t care for the man. Like, who—

Jack Bits. We’re in the middle of a game right now?

Eric (blushes) Oh, right.

Tater It’s alright, B, haha. But we move on with game now, yes? (single nod) Now, how many rings Zimmboni normally wear?

ONSCREEN CAPTION Answer: 1.

Eric One! He usually just wears his wedding ring, but today he’s got his 2016 Stanley ring! Wanna show it off, honey?

Jack (sheepishly holds up hands to show the two rings)

ONSCREEN CAPTION Fun fact: The team who wins the Stanley Cup get matching rings. Jack got his first one when the Falcs won the Cup in 2016!

Tater Is tough one now: How many times have the Atlanta Falcons made the playoffs?

ONSCREEN CAPTION Answer: 14.

Eric (sighs) Oh Lordy, that's hard. Alright, so by the time I was born they were at five so— (voice continues in fast forward) —they did in ‘98, then... ‘02? After was 2004, not 2005, or ‘06... so the next one was 2008. Then there was that streak from 2010 to 2012. Then the next one was 2016, and then ‘17. Not ‘18 and ‘19. So that’s... (begins to count on fingers)

Tater (back to regular speed, looking impressed) You have answer, B?

Eric I'm gonna go with fourteen as of this year.

Tater (censored beep)!!!

Eric (laughs)

Jack (censored beep), Bittle.

Tater Is amazing! You have both number and years!

Eric I’m Southern, and my daddy’s a football coach. (shrugs) Can’t help it!

Jack (chuckles) This is why I wanted you to answer stuff about the football instead of baking.

Eric (rolls eyes, swats Jack’s arm) Oh, this boy.

Tater Next question! What is most number of times Zimmboni fight in one season?

ONSCREEN CAPTION Answer: 3 fights.

Eric Ooh, shoot. I should know this one too, huh? Okay, so his first season he only got in one fight— (voice continues in fast forward) —and second season was also one, I think. After that, uhh, I think he finally got in two. Last year was three maybe? And this season hasn’t even started. But last year? Was it three? I don’t quite—hm.

Tater (back to regular speed) Your answer, B?

Eric I’m gonna go with three fights for last season.

Tater (shaking his head)

Jack What did I say?

Tater (censored beep) Is correct. (huffs) What year did Falcons join the NFL?

ONSCREEN CAPTION Answer: 1965.

Eric Uhhh, oh goodness, I know Coach told me this at some point... (pause) I think it was 1965?

Tater Correct! What year Zimmboni first try skating?

ONSCREEN CAPTION Answer: 1992. Fun fact: Bad Bob had Jack skating as soon as Jack could walk!

Eric Skating, huh? ‘Cause I’ll bet the son of Bad Bob tried on his first skates before he even turned one, huh? (smiles cheekily)

Jack (nudges with elbow, gives Eric a small smile) Not the question.

Eric Oh alright, not the question. Hmm, I know it was before you turned three so, I’ll say... (drawling out answer) nineteen-ninety... two?

Tater (throws cards out of hand, shaking his head) Is correct again!

Eric Oh my god!

(high pitched sound as Eric fist pumps the air)

Jack (laughs, bringing an arm around Eric before kissing his cheek)

Tater B, I'm frustrate to say you know Zimmboni as much as you know football.

ONSCREEN CAPTION FINAL SCORE: Football = 6, Husband = 6. T I E ! ! !

Jack Knew it. Told you so, Bits.

Eric That sounds like a chirp, and I will not have that on my vlog, Mr. Zimmermann. So with that, I guess we’re done! (looks towards camera, claps once) Well, that about does it for today’s video! Thank you so much to my special guests, Providence Falconers’ Jack Zimermann and Alexei Mashkov, for joining me today. (gestures towards Jack and Tater)

Tater (nods with a wide smile) Thanks for having us, B!

Jack (smiles and nods) Always great to be here.

Eric Be sure to check out the Falcs TV videos too! Link in the description or right over here! (points to space, highlighted annotation inserted) And thanks for tuning in! Next week, I’ll have a new video for y’all on the best ways to add protein to your favourite sandwiches.

(Eric, Jack, and Tater wave at the camera)

Eric Bye, y’all! See ya next time!

(More notes on Ao3.)

[dirtyhelen]

moans and dial tones (let ‘em spill right down the microphone)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Featuring: Established relationship, phone sex, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, slight d/s themes.

Words: 2052

Summary: You’re having a bad day, but Bucky makes it better, even from afar.

A/N: Ummmmm, first time posting fic 🙈so if you’re reading this (is anyone out there??? 😂) please let me know if there’s anything I should tag/warn for! Title is from 3am by Halsey. This work is also on AO3 (same username). ________________________________________________________________ Sitting up in bed and ready to dive into your current Netflix obsession, you’re startled by the sound of an incoming video call on your laptop. Bucky’s name flashes up on your screen along with a picture of him asleep, mouth hanging open and drool smeared on his cheek. His contact picture of you is similarly embarrassing – a zoomed-in candid of you mid-sentence with your face screwed up in a particularly unattractive expression.

(It’s one of your favourite couples’ activities – taking unflattering pictures and texting them to each other. Centenarian or not, Bucky’s a former assassin and unsurprisingly very sneaky with a cellphone camera.) He’s been away on an assignment for the past two weeks and you hadn’t expected to hear from him today so you eagerly accept the call and watch as he fills up your screen.

“Hi, bunny,” Bucky greets you softly. He’s wearing headphones and holding his phone out in front of him. He appears to sitting up in bed as well, likely in whatever motel or safe house he, Sam, and Steve are holed up in for the moment.

“Hi,” you return with a smile. The first genuine one you’ve cracked all day. “Didn’t think I’d hear from you today. How are things going?” “Good, hoping to be home soon. Heard you’ve been having a bad day,” he says with a sympathetic grimace. You hum in acknowledgment before your head tilts, your brows furrowing. How would he know that? Bucky chuckles, reading the question on your face. “Nat texted. Told me I’d better call my girl and make her feel better. Well, her exact words were—” and here Bucky quotes from his phone, “‘give your girlfriend an orgasm before she explodes from frustration and kills us all.’” You laugh, covering your suddenly burning face with your hands. “Oh my God! I can’t believe she said that!” You pause, scoffing. “Actually, yes I can. It’s Nat. But I don’t know how you’re gonna help me out all the way in wherever the fuck you are.” Bucky smirks, giving you an exaggerated eyebrow wiggle to make you laugh. “I have my ways. Tell me about your day, sweetheart.” You proceed to tell him how you missed your alarm this morning and had to skip breakfast or risk being late to your 9 am meeting. The meeting went long and was largely pointless and when you got back to your desk there were over a dozen new emails waiting in your inbox, all marked urgent and requiring your immediate attention. When you got home at the end of the day, you tried to make yourself a cup of tea but ended up dropping your favourite mug – the one with the flowers, the one Bucky bought for a euro from a flea market in Spain because he’d seen it and thought of you – and ended up crying on the kitchen floor as you picked up the broken pieces. (That was when you’d texted Natasha a picture of the carnage with the caption: “My life is more difficult than anyone else’s on the planet and yes, I’m including starving children, so don’t ask.” She must have texted Bucky just after.) “Then I decided I’d take a nice, long, relaxing shower, but I got shampoo in my eyes and the batteries in my vibrator died before I could get to the relaxing bit,” you pout, finishing the recap of your no good, terrible, very bad day. Bucky can’t help but laugh at your expression – sad eyes and a big, exaggerated frown – but he quickly softens when you shoot him a glare. “Poor little bunny,” he coos. If he were there he’d scoop you into his arms and sit you on his lap. Press kisses to your forehead and rub your back, coddle you just how you like when you’re upset. Baby you a little. Maybe slip his hand into your panties, stroke over you gentle and slow until you’re panting, whining into his neck with sweet little gasps. He’d run his fingers through your hair as you keened, whispering pretty filth in your ear as you came. You’re thinking about it now, he can tell. Your eyes a little glazed and your breath coming a little faster. He lowers his voice, dropping into that husky tone he only uses with you, when he asks, “You want me to make you feel better?” Glossy eyes suddenly focused and cheeks burning, you nod. “Yes, please.” “Sit back, baby.” Propping yourself up against the headboard, you set the laptop down between your spread legs so you can keep your eyes on Bucky and he can see you too. “Take off your shirt.” You comply with his order, slipping your t-shirt over your head and tossing it to the floor. Bucky stares for a moment, drinking you in with a pleased hum. Ordinarily you might shy away from his gaze, but with hundreds of miles and a laptop screen between you, you feel bolder and arch your back so your breasts are fully on display. Bringing a hand up, you circle one of your nipples with a fingertip. “That’s real pretty, bunny, but did I say you could touch?” his voice is gentle still, but his expression has hardened into a cool steel that sends a rush of wetness between your thighs. Your hand drops obediently back to your side. “Sorry,” you breathe. “Can you be a good girl and do what I tell you?” “Yes, Bucky.” “Mmm, that’s my girl,” he says with a smile that fills your chest with warmth. “Cup your breasts, circle your nipples with your thumbs. Softly.” You do as he says, feeling your nipples harden under your touch. You’re so turned on even the feather-light circles around the hardened points send a jolt to your clit and you let out breathy sighs. “Fuck, babydoll, I miss those tits. Always so sensitive. Pinch those pretty little nipples for me.” Tugging and twisting a little you feel the heat pooling between your thighs. You’re aching for a touch to your clit, but you know you can’t yet. Not until Bucky gives you permission. Your legs are spread to accommodate the laptop, but he can see your thighs tensing, your hips shifting just the tiniest bit, begging for some friction where you need it most. If he were there, he might tease you for a while longer. Take his time bringing you to the edge then back again, over and over until you’re begging to come, tears gathering in your eyes. But he’s not there. He’s in a shitty hotel room – a single at least, thank God – and he has to be awake again in too few hours and you’re already frustrated from a long day. So he’ll give you what you want, what you need, and save the real playtime for the reunion. “Take off your panties, bunny.” You’re quick to comply, gracelessly shifting around until your underwear are gone and you’re back against the headboard, legs spread in a lewd display for Bucky’s eyes only. You look back to the screen for your next instruction to find Bucky has shifted the angle of his phone so you can still his face, but also his right hand lightly moving over his cock. Your mouth waters at the sight and you can’t help but let out a needy little whine. Bucky chuckles at the sound, at the open desire in your eyes. He hums. “You like that, bunny? You like watching me stroke my cock for you?” He knows you do. Knows there’s something about watching him get himself off that turns you on like nothing else. As expected, you nod eagerly, eyes fixed on the way his hand moves along his length. “Touch your pussy. Spread yourself open, let me see how wet you are.” Face burning at the crude words, you slowly slide your hand down your belly and through the hair at the apex of your thighs, slipping your fingers between your folds and spreading, holding yourself wide for Bucky to see. He moans, fist tightening around his cock. Your clit is swollen and there’s slick seeping from your opening. You clench around nothing, cunt empty and weeping for something to fill it. Fuck, he wishes he were there to lick up all that wetness, drag it up to your clit with his tongue and fill your hungry little hole with his fingers until you’re coming, wet and warm and spilling into his palm. “Slide a finger inside. Get it nice and wet.” He pauses as you follow his instructions, finger slipping in easily. It feels nice but it’s not enough. Not what you need. “Good girl. Now use that finger to rub your clit.” You slide your finger out and bring it up to circle your clit, letting out a moan as you finally get some attention where you need it. You watch as Bucky’s hand starts stroking his length in earnest now, twisting and circling over the tip. His breath is coming heavier now, intermingled with deep moans. “Feels good, huh?” he pants, letting out a groan at your frantic nod. “Yeah, looks like it feels good. Fuck, wish I was there with you, baby.” “Me, too.” Your finger circles your clit faster and your face heats up at the vulgar noise of it. “God, I can see your cunt clenching. Fuck, I wanna be inside you right now. Feeling that wet little pussy squeezing my cock so tight, so good for me.” You gasp out a keening moan, finger circling your clit almost frantically now, you’re so desperate to come, so close, almost there. It looks like Bucky is too, from the way you see his hips thrust up into his hand. “You gonna come for me, bunny? Gonna come sweet for me?” Your only response is a whimper, eyes clenched shut as your fingers work over your soaked folds. The slick sound of it goes straight to his cock and he pumps his fist faster, tighter. “That’s it, baby. Come for me,” he orders, voice gruff and you’re done for. You moan when your orgasm hits you, head tossed back against the pillows as your pussy clenches. The sight of it, your cunt spasming and squeezing out slick that drips down your ass onto the bedsheets has Bucky coming too, spilling onto his t-shirt and dripping down his hand. As Bucky tugs off his shirt and wipes his hand with it – quickly, before you can catch him and tell him to “get a face cloth, you gross boy, God,” he admires your well-sated appearance. Head tilted back, eyes closed, your fingers still lightly stroking through your folds to wring out any last drops of pleasure. He hums at the sight and your eyes open, finding his through the screens between you. In an uncharacteristically bold move you bring your hand up to your mouth, fingers shiny with slick, and begin to lick them clean. He can’t help but moan, his dick giving a valiant twitch, even as your seductive façade falls away, leaving you giggling and covering your face with your hands. The heavy, lustful mood falls away as Bucky joins you in laughing, the oddness of seeing each other – and yourselves – naked on camera setting in now the orgasms have come and gone. “I feel much better now, thank you,” you laugh and Bucky gets a great look at your ass as you lean off the bed to grab your shirt. “Better than a relaxing shower?” You pause, stroking your chin as you pretend to think deeply. “Talk to me when you have 12 different vibration settings and can fit it my purse.” Bucky cheerfully flips you off and is about to tell you goodnight and that he loves you when the door to his room flies open. “Hey Buck, do you – why is your dick out right now?” The last thing Bucky hears from you as he scrambles to cover his junk, hang up his phone, and strangle Sam all at once is the sound of your pealing laughter in his headphones. The last thing you hear before the call disconnects is Bucky cursing while Sam ruthlessly offers tips on taking nude selfies. “The lighting’s all wrong, man!” Well, you think as you collapse into helpless giggles, maybe today wasn’t so bad after all. A/N: If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! If you liked it, let me know! If you didn’t like it or have advice/suggestions, also let me know (but in a nice, constructive way please?). I’m very new at this so any constructive feedback is appreciated!

Also: the caption the reader texts to Nat is a line from Bob’s Burgers (that I frequently use in my own daily life lol).

[ana-deaky]

It’s The Little Things || Joe Mazzello x Reader

What started out as a discussion between me and @amethyst-serenade on how cute Joe is, blown out into this story/HC, I honestly don’t know what this is. It’s definitely fluffy, now that I’m sure. Hope you guys enjoy our work!!

Words: 2393

No warnings whatsoever

HERE WE GO!!

Oh without a doubt! He's gonna be an amazing father and his kids will be adorable and lovable just like him.

Imagine him with his firstborn (especially if it's a girl) holding them in his arms and the absolute adoration on his face ♥️

It would start when you tell him you're pregnant. He'd be beside you (crying a little), kissing and hugging you, and your belly and telling "I'm gonna be a dad. We're gonna be parents."

Even when before you start showing, his hands will be on the belly, secretly protecting his kid. Involuntarily yelling "excuse me" and "coming through" when the two of you walk through crowds. And randomly talking to the baby, reading to the baby at night. And when he goes on a shoot while you're pregnant and he calls and he says "put the phone on speaker, I wanna talk to the baby" and talks about the day.

And he'd be showing everyone the ultrasound pic! And when you're having a movie night, he'd either have his hand or his head on your belly, constantly snuggling into you. And he'll tell anyone who'll listen that his beautiful wife is expecting your first child. And during the movie, if anybody cusses, Joe would put his hands on the sides of the belly and he'd say "too early for that" jokingly.

Oh Joe won't be able to hold it in for the first trimester. The day the second trimester hits, the ultrasound will be on his page and he'll share an entire paragraph about the baby and his incredible wife.

And obviously help throw the best damn dramatic Baby Gender Reveal Party ever!! YES! It's a girl!!

The moment he feels the baby kick over your belly, god, here comes the water works AGAIN!! His hands will be literally glued to your belly until he feels her kick again.

And the day comes when little Ms. Mazzello is ready to make her grand entrance into the world and you bet your ass, Mr. Mazzello has had the hospital bag and ready to go right after the baby shower.

And there she was, Ella Virginia Mazzello, the absolute adoration in his face as he watched his little girl in a tiny bundle on her mom's chest.

His face would be all lit up when he finally holds his baby girl, he's looking at his baby girl, all teary eyed and you could see his love for the baby in his eyes. And he'll literally worship the mother of his more than adorable baby, the love of his life and love her like anything.

He'd be loving and considerate, and would make sure his wife is happy and comfortable. And he tries his best to for you to let him dress the baby in the Yankees onesie he got for her. Well he knows how that's gonna end up.

Let us assume the fact that Ben has a baby boy around that time and Gwil makes a joke "that's your future boyfriend" when the boys visit the new mother and baby at Joe's home and Joe whispers to the baby, pretty audibly, "No dating for you until 16, young lady"

And on one day when the Yankees are playing, he'll be wearing a Yankees tshirt and dresses the baby in the Yankees onesie that he specifically got for her, and seats her on his lap, he'll post that picture captioned "Just two Yankees fans hangin' out"

His phone memory will be filled up with all of Ella's pictures, videos of her bouncing up and down on her father's lap to one of those Beatles songs from her dad's collection and obviously in her Halloween costume, that's right, Joe dresses up his little girl in a baby Raptor costume.

And all the boys would give him shit for it but Lucy would think it's the most adorable thing ever and tell you how lucky you are to have a husband like that.

As his little girl grows up, he'll help her host tea parties and he'd take her on daddy-daughter dates so he can show her how a REAL man should treat her.

Joe would make sure his little girl don't take no crap!

Second time along, during their second gender reveal, they find they're having a baby boy and he'll go crazy raising his hands and jumping up and down "we're having a boy, our lil baseball player is here."

He'd be going on and on and ON about having a firstborn son to carry on the family name.

He'd DEFINITELY get him a raptor onesie first and practically beg to organise play dates with Gwil & Dana's little girl and Rami and Lucy's twins (we haven't forgotten Ben's kids)

And Joe's baby girl, he'll definitely be by her side when his baby boy is too little so that she don't feel left out or anything.

********

And Mother's Day,

The boys would all get together and plan something special for the ladies so they don't have to lift a finger. Starting with breakfast in bed (that Joe made with help from the kids), well you woke up to your little girl's giggles from outside the door and in comes your lovely husband with your baby boy in the baby carrier and Ella.

The boys would have booked the girls in for a spa day and he'll organise daddy-daycare with the boys. Then you'd all go to Rami & Lucy's place for dinner, which of course, the dads are making while the girls hangout with the kids. And then comes a bab(ies)y-mommy photoshoot and everything.

But Joe would find you when the baby's hungry because 'that's the one thing I can't do, sorry!' He'll be so dramatic saying "My nipples are useless."

Under the starry skies, the boys and their wives and babies, pictures perfect.

Ooh and the kids, well the boys will set up tents for them to camp in the backyard. And they'll sit around and tell stories of dragons and pirates and wizards; and let their imaginations run wild.

Imagine Gwil telling all these amazing stories with his soothing accent, doing all the voices and making the kids laugh while the rest of you are enjoying a beer or a glass of wine under the fairy lights hanging in the trees. And later, when he gets an acoustic guitar and break into a song and all the boys sing along.

And after the kids are down, all of you reminisce about the time when they did BoRhap and all the fun you guys had during press tours and birthdays and holidays.

And Joe tells about the adventures in Japan for the press tour when the translators were finding it hard to keep up with the boys. And Ben's like "Sorry I missed it!"

"But Cardboard Ben did" and that's when they remember Ben Cardy after an awful long time

Then Gwil and Joe explain the terrible night that Cardy B was in jail. Meanwhile you and the girls look at each other like "Boys!" 🙄

And Lucy takes out Joe's YouTube page and shows all the videos. And they all give him shit for doing 'Milk' and you be like "He still got the occasional screams."

Then Rami says "so THAT'S your bedroom secret, Joe?" And Joe's like "Well, we've got two kids so it must be working!" And you shove at his arm to keep him quiet saying "Joseph!"

"That's nothing",  Lucy says with a grin "Rami sings to me". And Rami covers his face with his hands and Ben shoves his arm. "Gwil goes "Huzzah" everytime he's done", says Dana from a corner. Ben gives Olivia a warning look, and Olivia says "Ben tells me to call him Skywalker to get him in the mood" and Joe laughs.

"So we all have weird quirks, cheers to that", says Joe and takes a drink and you go like eww

"That's why were friends", says Gwil. "Joe and I are more like brothers' says Rami, "We've seen each other shirtless in The Pacific". "And other things" says Ben. Lucy rolls her eyes and you two give each other a look.

"Here we go again" says Gwil and turns to you to ask "Has he tried to make the kids watch The Pacific yet?"

"Well it's not my fault. That the scene was TOO GOOD, y'know", says Joe winking, "besides you enjoy it as much as I do" says Joe to you.

"Several times. Barely made it halfway through the first episode before Ella said she was bored. He then tried with Joey until I reminded him that the baby is, in fact, still a baby. But when WE watch it, Joe always seems really interested in THAT sex scene", you said. "Joseph!" Lucy gasps

"Attaboy!" Rami chuckles and pats Joe on his back.

"How come you guys never watched it with me?", Ben asks. "We should do a "The Pacific" watch party one day", Rami announces and Joe toasts, "To the watchparty!"

"Oh she hesitated! That means it's true!" says Ben. "No wonder you've got two kids" Gwil grins.

"You watched it too!" says Dana. "Only because Rami and Joe wouldn't shut up about it and brought it up in EVERY interview we did!" says Gwil.

Just as Joe does the toast, your daughter comes out in her favourite unicorn pyjamas. "Daddy, I need to pee". Joe looks over at you. Rami and Lucy giggle. "She did call Daddy, didn't she?", you gave a look to Joe and he says "Come here" he says and picks up his daughter and off he goes. "She walks right?", Dana asks. "Don't even get me started with that.", you told.

"Always knew he'd go all gooey over his little girl." Ben says, lighting a cigarette. "She's definitely daddy's princess", you sigh. "Does he have tea parties with her?" Olivia asks. "He does, but uh" you hesitate just as Joe comes back, "Liv wants to know about your latest tea party"

"Oh what can I say Ella loves tea parties as much as I do. It's incredible and so much fun, you know" he says. "And this one here", he gestures to you, "is kinda jealous of us spending all the time together."

"You pinky promised me that you wouldn't show it to anyone" says Joe trying to grab your phone. "Oh its them", you said. "Yes it's us. Also pinky promise? How old are you guys?", Gwil asked.

"Yeah, Joe left me for a younger woman", you grin, sipping your wine. "You bastard!" Gwil gasps.

"And yet I have photographic evidence of you wearing a flower crown" you add. "Show us!", says Ben.

"That's just the start of it, Gwil", you wink, "so we have a choice between the flower crown, the fairy wings or the unicorn headband". Ben chokes on his cigarette and the girls laugh.

"You're a man of many hidden talents, Joe", Rami smirks.

"In my defense, I take pinky promises very very seriously", Joe said as the group passed the phone around, "Also I looked good in every one of those pictures"

"Y/N, tell them", Joe said. You roll your eyes. "He looks good in every one of those pictures", you said, adding to Dana "otherwise he'll sulk for the rest of the night." Dana giggles.

"Speaking of onesies, Joe wanted to get BoRhap themed outfits for the kids.", you said. "Thats so thoughtful, Joe", Lucy said. "Hold on, next time?", Ben grinned, "You guys wanna have more kids?"

"Did you get that onesie that we sent you for the baby?" Ben asked. "We did", you confirm "and it fits perfectly. Though El almost threw a tantrum when she saw her baby brother dressed as a raptor."

"Well Joe has already bought a Yankees one, so Ben had to compromise", said Rami. "Joe made me pinky promise that we HAD to buy the Yankees onesie first", you grin. "I wanted that for the baby's "homecoming" outfit, but she didn't allow it. Both times. Better luck next time, right?" Joe said.

'It's Joey's first Christmas. They're growing up so fast. I remember like it was yesterday that I told Joe that I was pregnant with El. Now here we are", and you were interrupted by a baby crying through one of the monitors. All of you scramble around to check which one was active. And found out it was yours, "Is he hearing all this? I'm gonna go check on him", you said and walked away.

"Oh he's already advised me of this, on the wedding night", you shrugged. "Pretty sure we conceived lil Joey at your place, Gwil", Joe grins, making Gwil sputter on his beer. You swatted his arm, "Joe!!".

"And I assume you've already found these outfits for the kids?" Olivia asked.

"It's a work in progress. It should be ready by the time of our Disney trip, hopefully", Joe said.

You sat in the rocking chair with Joey in your arms, singing to him softly, looking deep into his hazel eyes, stroking his cheek with your finger.

"I remember when you told us that Y/N was pregnant again", said Lucy, "You couldn't wait give give El a baby brother or sister."

"That's what you meant when you said you were busy, huh"' Rami winked. "We thought it was time, you know, El became a big sister."

******

"Gosh, I feel bad for not saying goodnight to everyone", you yawned "I didn't realise how tired I was.". You watched as the baby snuggled into the pastel green blanket, sound asleep.

You felt the baby lifted off your arms and opened your eyes, your fingers tightening on the baby "Shhhh its okay, it's me. I got him.", said Joe as he took the baby in his arm and laid him down on the bassinet right by the bedside. "Aren't you supposed to be downstairs?", you asked sleepy

"I knew you'd have dozed off with the baby when you didn't show up and everybody was tired after the long night. Probably asleep by now", Joe said, "Come let's go to sleep."

'C'mon now, in you get', Joe said pulling the duvet aside and you got in and he behind you. His strong arms wrapped around you after he pulled the blanket over the both of you. You nuzzled into his neck. Joe kissed the top of your head. As the two of you dozed off.

......

Tags: @amethyst-serenade @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @mazzell-ro @thosequeenboys @detectivecutiepantsandhisbabyfox @brinteylovesaliens @hellysthings

[enchantedlokii]

Can You Imagine

Prologue: The Return

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: language, mentions of death

Characters: Flash Thompson, Michelle Jones, Eugene Thompson, Marie Thompson, Steve Rogers

Mentioned: Ned Leeds, Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Stephen Strange, Natasha Romanoff

Flash wasn’t exactly sure what had happened. He could remember feeling faint. He could remember seeing his hand start to turn to dust and the screams of the other students around him as they watched their friends fading before their eyes. And then it was over. Everything went dark, and he couldn’t remember anything that happened after that.

The next thing he knew, he woke up back in the school gym that was half-empty. He saw several others waking up around him, some in the bleachers and some on the basketball court. “What the h*ll?” he muttered. He took out his phone to try to figure out what happened only to find that he had no service and that it wasn’t April 2018 anymore, it was October 2023.

“Oh God,” he heard someone breathe. He looked up and noticed it was Michelle Jones. They weren’t exactly friends, but he knew her from Academic Decathalon. He didn’t necessarily dislike her. “The space ship.”

Flash’s eyes widened. He remembered the field trip. They had been going over a bridge when Ned Leeds noticed a donut-shaped spaceship in the city. Later that night they had learned that Iron Man, Spider-Man, and Dr. Stephen Strange had disappeared on that spaceship. It didn’t take a genius to realize that there must be some sort of connection.

It would be hours before the school had everything settled. Parents were called. The students were picked up. Not just those who had just returned, but everyone else. With the news that he had been one of half the population to disappear for five years, Flash expected his parents to be thrilled to see him. He expected a hug or at least an exchange of words, but he got nothing. His father told him to get in the car and they drove him home.

Except, it wasn’t the home that he left five years ago. It was the same house, yes, but there was no trace he had ever been there. His trophies and medals were gone. His room had been emptied and turned into another guest room. All that remained were a few baby pictures.

His phone was mostly useless now, but as he connected to the wifi he managed to load up social media and find out what was happening. It was out of date now and super slow, but he found a recently uploaded newscast where the report was speaking with Captain America. He was in his outfit still, and the scene behind him looked like a war zone.

“I can’t tell you much right now,” the man told the reported. There was a distant, sad look in his eyes. “We have lost friends today. On this battlefield. While we are grateful that we have succeeded, we hope you understand that we are also grieving.”

“Mr. Rogers, are you able to tell us who has been lost at this time?” The reporter asked. She was off-camera, but Flash could hear sadness in her voice as well.

Captain America turned to look over his shoulder before running a hand down his face. He seemed hesitant to tell. And when he finally spoke, his voice cracked. This was a man who had never been known to cry. The first Avenger. Yet here he was, his blue eyes glazed with tears. “We hope that the world will remember Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff for all they have done,” he said finally, not looking at the camera.

Flash’s eyes widened. The reporter kept speaking, but he didn’t hear what she said. Because two of the Avengers were dead. Iron Man and Black Widow were dead. He had always been a fan of both heroes. His parents thought it was ridiculous, but he couldn’t help it. When Iron Man made his first appearance, he had planted himself in front of the TV, watching the continuous broadcast. He had watched as Tony Stark had announced live that he was Iron Man. And then a couple years later, when the Chitauri Aliens attacked New York, he had grown to be fond of Natasha Romanoff as well.

The next few days, that was all everyone talked about. His Instagram feed seemed to be endless pictures of the two. Most were photos from interviews and newscasts. No one actually knew either hero. Not anyone that Flash knew.

Then he saw it.

Peter Parker had been silent on social media all week. His new phone had been added to the deacathalon group chat, but he never spoke. It wasn’t unusual, really. He didn’t talk there too much. And when he did, Flash usually ignored him. It wasn’t until he saw the picture that it hit him.

The picture was of Peter with Tony Stark. They held a certificate between them, and both were smiling and holding up peace signs. He noticed that the certificate was upside down, but it had the SI logo and Peter’s name. It was proof of the internship that Flash had consistently said was fake. He didn’t understand why the boy never showed it to him to prove his point, but that didn’t matter right now.

Flash scrolled down a bit to read the caption that Peter had typed.

‘If you told a younger me that I would one day get to not only meet but befriend my hero and idol, I would have thought you were insane. I’m forever grateful to have had the chance to work with you, and I already miss you so much. Thank you for everything.’

Flash felt guilt in his chest. It was a strange feeling, really. He never once thought there was a chance that the internship was real. It wasn’t that Peter wasn’t smart enough, he was the top of the class, it was the fact that he had never known of Stark Industries hiring interns who were still in high school. If he had, he definitely would have applied for the position. He couldn’t help but wonder if maybe there was something more there. That maybe he was more of a personal intern than an intern for the company.

For a moment, he thought about messaging Peter. Apologizing. But he couldn’t. It didn’t feel right, and he was sure that he was the last person Peter wanted to talk to right now. He was grieving. He had seen the way Captain America had been in the interview, and they had fought and not been on speaking terms. At least in 2018. It would probably be worse for Peter.

And he’s already lost his parents and uncle.

That was the first time that Flash truly realized how horrible he was. He had been bullying an orphan who had never been anything but kind to him. To anyone, really. He sighed and locked his new phone, putting it down on the bed.

Maybe it would be better if I hadn’t come back.

[weregonnaneedmorewhiskey]

Covet

Chapter 1- “It’s hot girl spring break, get the stick out of your ass”

Synopsis: covet

/ˈkʌvɪt/

verb

yearn to possess (something, especially something belonging to another)

When Karla, a college senior meets James Brookes, a no BS marketing exec infamous for getting his way, she quickly gets into a relationship with him. But what will she do when his very shady past comes to surface and how far will James go in order to get what he wants?

Songs for this chapter:

Savage Remix- Megan Thee Stallion ft Beyoncé

Excuse Me Miss- Jay Z ft Pharrell

Act Up- City Girls

Karla

March, 20th.

"Ok, what are you doing?" Taty's loud ass just had to walk in and interrupt the peace I was in enjoying in my hotel room.

"I'm reading" I wave my book in the air.

"Yes, I see you reading and you shouldn't be. Karla, we did not fly all the way from San Francisco to Miami for you to sit indoors with Audre Lorde" Taty walls towards me and grabs my book from my hands.

"Well you want me to relax right?" I ask her. "Yes with some Don Julio, in a club and maybe you go home with a man. It is Hot Girl Spring Break, get the stick of your ass" I now spot the bottle of Don Julio in her other hands.

"You're gonna make drink that?" I already know the answer

"Yes but by not here. Chanel found out this party they're having at this beach house and we're going. Her and Adrienne are already there" She passes me a black micro bikini. "And you're wearing THAT to the party so go get dressed. Now."

Taking the book from her hands, I put under my pillow and begrudgingly go into the bathroom to go change. It's been a while since I went a party so one in a beach house sounds like fun.

"Ok I'm ready. Let me just grab a sarong to wrap around my ass so it's not just hanging out the entire time" I walk out of the bathroom. Looking through my bag, I see something that wasn't originally in there.

"Taty?"

"Yeah"

I hold up the pack of condoms that magically appeared in my bag because I'm sure I didn't pack them.

"Did you put these in my bag?" I know she put them in there because it's such a Taty thing to do.

"Yeah, because I'm surprised you didn't bring any with you" She looks at me like I have two heads for asking that question.

"Look, I'm all for a hot girl spring break but I'm not looking to fuck a random dude. Getting drunk with my girls, that sounds like a good time"

"NOW...you are speaking my language. Well partially because I still don't get why you won't hook up with a random dude but enough chit chat. Let's go".

What sprung to mind when Taty said "beach house party" I was expecting a decent sized house and pool with a few kegs and red cups. The reality was literally something out of a Migos video.

Actually I wouldn't be surprised if all a sudden Offset or Quavo just popped out. Half of the girls here were influencers, making sure to get the perfect IG photo for their paid partnership with FashionNova with a City Girls or Meg Thee Stallion lyric as their caption. Speaking of taking pictures for the gram...

"Bitch...I need a picture with one of the pool floaties!" Chanel shouts from across the pool. Taty is all systems go to, phone at the ready to take the picture.

"Let see it!"

Chanel is the dream IG model. I mean she could easily be a runway model. That's how pretty she is. She screams glamour and diamonds. An aesthetic she lives by.

"I'm surprised you got her out" She says to Taty.

"Can't I go a party without being dragged?" They act as if all I do is stay indoors. We haven't even been in Miami longer than a day and I get dragged for reading in the room.

"Yes you can but sometimes you need a little convincing"

Queen B, want no smoke with me. Then turned this motherfucker up 800 degrees. The opening bars of Savage Remix starts playing and I swear every chick in this party just lost their shit includes.

Bougie, he say the way that thang move is a movie. Adrienne joins us with a bottle of Hennessy in her hand ready for me to take a sip from. The familiar burn runs down my throat. The four of us start rapping the lyrics to each other.

"Hips tick tok when I dance, on that demon time, she might start an only fans" I start whining my hips and Chanel's loud ass starts hyping me up

"If you want to see some real ass, baby here's your chance" Chanel screams.

My eyes then spot someone looking at me. He's over in a private section of the party. There's a few girls around him but he seems to not be focused on them and rather his gaze is focused on me.

"Karla, why that white dude staring at you like that. You know him or something" Taty has also noticed him staring at me.

"I don't know that man. He's probably Miami community dick anyway" I'm not entirely sold on what I said but a part of me wouldn't be surprised if he was.

"Community dick or not, he's fine. And I don't even like white men like that" Chanel gives her two cents

"Please say that louder with your racist ass. I'm sure he heard you the first time" I joke. Taty and Adrienne are now lounging on a chaise lounge and have swapped their bottles. My gaze returns back to the private section of the party and he's whispers into a waiter's ear but his gaze is still on me.

"Karla! You still need to drink some Don Julio. You've already drank some Henny" I'm sure Adrienne is already a bit tipsy. She's always been the one to get drunk the fastest but can wake up in the morning with no hangover. It's annoying

"Excuse me miss?" I snap out of my thoughts to see the same waiter with a Margarita.

"Sorry, I didn't order this"

"I know Miss. It's been paid for by Mr Brooks" he says.

"Girl, take it or I will" Taty says

"Hey it's my drink. I'll take it. Thank you"

"Karla, you should talk to him. Thank him up close and personal" Adrienne says with a wink. I know what that means and that's not happening.

"I'm sure he'd appreciate that" Of course Chanel is behind this.

"Alright! What do you want me to do? Suck his dick for buying me drink. Goddamn. You're right, I should say thank you to him. I'm going up there".

Jay Z 's Excuse Me Miss, one of my favourite tracks starts playing through the party

Excuse me, what's your name? I see some ladies tonight that should be hanging with Jay Z, Jay Z

As I walk to his section of the party, I realise how tall he is. Height wise around 6'1, 6'2, hair is slicked back. Ocean blue eyes. He's dressed pretty casual. White shirt, unbuttoned. White tank top and some shorts. Cartier Watch and a Corona in his hand. Got a little stubble on his face.

"H-Hi" Why is my voice sounding so nervous?

"James Brooks" 

Excuse me Miss, what's your name. Can you come, hang with me. Possibly can I take you home tonight

"Karla. Thanks for the drink, that was nice of you" I go to sit opposite him. Now that I'm closer, I see his eyes aren't totally blue. He has a small brown fleck in his right eye. I guess even things that appear to be perfect have their little cracks.

"Thought it would be a nice party favour" he smiles.

"Is this your party?" Would make a lot of sense. He definitely looks like someone who is balling.

"No, it's my client's. But my agency helped organise it so I thought I'd come by. Have some fun. Meet some new people" A smirk crosses his face when mentions the last part.

"Well you're certainly the people person aren't you? I ask.

He laughs. Why am I flirting with this random guy that bought me a cocktail. It must be the Hennessy.

"You live in Miami?"

"No, I'm from the bay. San Francisco. I'm just here with my girls for spring break"

"Nice. I wouldn't mind showing you around Miami. Take you to couple nice spots" I don't know why am immediately taking him up on his offer because I barely give a guy the time of the day but fuck it!

"Maybe you can" He reaches into his wallet and passes me a business card. "You really walk around with business cards. You're that guy?"

"I'm not. I just occasionally take one with him for...insurance" That goddamn smirk come back and it's kind of sexy.

"Insurance? Well I should get back to my friends. I'll see you around" As I walk away, I hear "Hopefully you will"

"What did he want?" Taty asks. "Nothing really, he was just being nice and gave me his number" I wave the card around before putting in my purse. Don't wanna lose that.

"So nice he gave you his number?" Her face now has the famous Taty "that's bullshit" expression, typically reserved for men.

"Karla, no one is that nice. You gonna call him?" Chanel asks

"Maybe. Don't see the harm in trying" I look back up to where he's sitting and he raises his bottle. In response I raise my glass in his direction.

"Well, at least he's fine" Adrienne chimes in

A/N- Hi, so a couple things. Jorja Smith is Karla, in case you didn't guess from the cover. Also they'll be different songs associated with each chapter because I listen to music when I write to sort of capture the environment the characters are in since I visualise the songs. (It's odd I know) Hence the reason why you'll see lyrics in italics

[sincerelyreidburke]

Alright so, Could you please entertain me with how Nando would react to seeing Quinn in stage makeup?

Yes.

//

freshman year | march

  If there’s one thing Nando has learned after several months of dating a theatre boy, it’s this: the drama club does not fuck around.

Like, as in, Quinn was already in rehearsal when he woke up this morning and now Nando’s game for the day— AKA his sole Saturday obligation— is finished and they’re still there . It was a matty game, but still . Quinn has literally been in the auditorium for, like, eight hours.

Nando knows why, though. Six days from now is opening night for the show. And today, as Quinn explained to him several times, is ‘load-in followed by a double run’, which is apparently drama club code for We Are Going To Be Here Literally All Day.

He understands, though. He knows. They’re busy. They have a whole musical to put on next weekend, and the weekend after that too. And Quinn himself is super busy, because, well, he’s the big cheese! He’s the lead. He’s putting the Evan Hansen in Dear Evan Hansen.

Nando is a ridiculously proud boyfriend.

Also, he cannot wait to finally see this show next weekend.

All that stands between him and that is what today signals the start of: tech week. Quinn has had some things to say about it. He’ll probably have more things to say about it. Nando wonders if he’s going to be nervous this week.

He’ll help him if he is; he’ll be here for him.. He’s going to blow this show out of the water. Nando knows it.

They win the game 6-1. He leaves the rink to an outdoor temperature which, miraculously, is something besides absolutely freezing. The sun hasn’t set or anything yet, but it’s getting later in the day, and it’s overcast and sort of gross out. “Hey,” Ben says, bumping against him as they walk. “Where are you headed right now?”

Nando glances at his phone. It’s 4:45. Theoretically , Quinn is supposed to be done at 5:00. But Nando also knows by now that the Kiersey drama club is notorious for breaking their rehearsal end-time promises.

“That’s… a good question,” he replies, looking up at Ben. “Where are you going?”

Ben shrugs. “I might hit the Beech, if Rem’s up for it.”

Nando nods. “Sweet.”

Ben tucks a loose strand of sweaty hair up into his bun, watching expectantly like he’s waiting for Nando’s answer. But he seems to read his mind, because a second later, he asks, “Is Q still in rehearsal?”

“I think so.” Nando grins a little. “They have him under lock and key.”

Ben smiles fully, and jostles his shoulder. “Duuude,” he says. “You must feel deprived.”

Nando knows he’s being chirped, but Ben never misses an opportunity to chirp him, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. “I do miss him,” he says. “But I’m so excited to see this show.”

“Oh, he’ll kick ass.” Ben pauses. “I can’t imagine that guy doing anything at less than a hundred and twenty percent.”

“You’re right.” Nando’s insides are mush. He wants to see Quinn. They should watch a movie tonight. Or something. As long as he can hold him. “Are you gonna come see it?”

“Yeah,” Ben replies. “We can do student BOGO night.” He winks. “I’ll be your date to make him jealous.”

Nando laughs at the gray sky. “Yeah, okay.”

From behind them come rapid footfalls, and then Remy appears at Ben’s other side, half out of breath with hair still sort of wet from the showers. “You guys suck,” he announces. “You left me in the dust.”

“Dude, I thought you were with Marc,” Ben says.

“I was .” Remy pauses and looks over his shoulder. Nando glances behind them, too— Jordy and Sam are a few yards back. “But I meant to catch up with you. Where are you going?”

Nando is hungry, and he has an idea. “I think,” he says, “I’m gonna go get food and then intercept Quinn on his way out of rehearsal.”

Ben flicks his wrist and makes a whip-cracking noise. Nando shoves him, and they laugh together.

“Okay, well, you have fun with that, lover boy,” Remy replies. He looks to Ben. “Beech?”

Ben nods affirmatively. “Beech.”

They part ways at the corner; the rest of the guys head for Beech Street and the hockey house, and Nando makes a beeline for the Bluegrass Café. He likes this, the balance in his social life— his friends chirp him to no end, but there’s always plenty of friend time and boyfriend time. He loves the team, and he loves Quinn too.

Of course, he hasn’t, uh. Said that yet. He wants to let Quinn say it first, so he doesn’t rush or pressure him.

He walks across campus to Bluegrass, where he picks up a to-go order— Swiss and rye grilled cheese, with a serving of fries, a cookie, and a hot tea with plenty of honey. He’s sort of hungry, too, but Quinn never finishes his fries. And plus, there are snacks back in Quinn’s room.

From the café to Beckett, the performing arts building, it’s a five-minute walk. The Nando of fall semester would be bitching about the wind chill, but today it’s really not so bad. The scarf Quinn knit him for Christmas has proved to come in very handy.

He carries the paper bag of food in one hand and the tea in the other. When he gets to the auditorium lobby, there isn’t a theatre kid in sight— which means they’re all still inside— but the good news is that he can’t hear any music in there, which means they’re doing notes.

And yeah. He knows theatre terms now. Like ‘doing notes’.

He really, really loves his life.

He sits on his standard bench, where more than once this musical season he’s sat to wait for Quinn after a rehearsal. When it gets to be 5:03 and there’s no sign of anyone leaving, he digs out his phone, puts the tea down on the arm of the bench, and looks through his Instagram to pass the time. Parker, their captain, posted a picture five minutes ago, of himself with David and Ville, taken after the game today. They’re all in their jerseys, just off the ice. It’s really wholesome. His caption is road to playoffs!!!!!

Nando is going to miss the seniors so much.

There isn’t much else in his feed, which is kind of boring, but he’s too preoccupied trying to wait for a sign of life from the backstage door that it doesn’t really make a difference. Finally, at 5:14— which really is not that late— a small group comes out of the stage door, chattering away. Among them is Quinn’s friend, Maggie, who Nando is at least ninety percent sure is playing his friend in the show. She spots him and waves. “Hey, Sebastián!”

“Hi!” He smiles. If there are people coming, Quinn can’t be far behind. “How did it go?”

Maggie grins back. She was one of the first drama club kids to be nice to him despite his jock-ery, and for that he’ll always be grateful. “It was fun!” she says. “Quinn’s coming. He was just talking to the director.”

“Sweet.” Nando has sort of been waiting all day for this. He feels the takeout bag, and, thank God, it’s still warm. He waves as Maggie leaves. “Have a good night!”

“See ya later!”

More cast and crew people start to filter out the stage door after Maggie and her group. They all go in different directions, some talking, some singing, some arguing. Some acknowledge him, and others don’t. He knows it’s sort of a scandal that their prodigal freshman is dating a gross hockey player.

He’s getting just slightly restless when, finally, a strawberry-haired cutie emerges from the door he’s been watching. Quinn is in a white cotton scarf and looking at his phone, and Nando grins a little, leans back on the bench, and plays casual while he waits for him to look up.

A few steps out of the door, he does, and Nando watches a smile cross his face as they meet eyes across the lobby. “Oh,” Quinn laughs. “I just texted you.”

Nando grins. “Hey, baby,” he hums, and then stands to go greet him. His phone buzzes in his pocket, which must be the text.

He meets him halfway across the lobby and wraps him in a squishy hug. Quinn is so small in his arms that he can rest his chin right on top of his head, and he gives him a good squeeze.

“Oh—” Quinn’s voice is muffled in his team jacket. “Be careful.”

“Careful of what?” Nando asks, pulling back to meet his eyes— but right as Quinn responds, he sees it.

“I’m wearing makeup,” Quinn says, and— and yeah . He is.

It’s subtle, Nando knows this much. And he’ll be the first to admit he knows absolutely nothing about makeup, let alone stage makeup, but— but. Quinn is definitely wearing it. There’s some kind of powder, and he’s pretty sure there’s also blush, and eyeliner, and— mascara? Or do his eyelashes just look like that? Nando has no idea, but—

— but he looks— beautiful.

He gapes down at him for what must be a slightly abnormal amount of time without saying anything, because Quinn arches an eyebrow, a question in his eyes. God , he has pretty eyes. They’re blue-green, entire oceans, and Nando could lose himself in them, and how did he ever get so lucky ?

“ Wow ,” he says finally, and adds, “You look—”

“I know, I know,” Quinn replies, waving a hand in the air. “It’s… a feat, but it’s just part of the process. It was a full dress today, so—”

“Wait, no,” Nando amends, shaking his head. “I meant— that wasn’t a bad ‘wow’. I— you look—” Nando is too gay to function, apparently. “ Pretty , baby. You look pretty.”

A smile quirks on Quinn’s lips, and Nando really wants to kiss him all of a sudden. “Oh?” he replies. “I didn’t realize you’d enjoy this look.”

“Yeah, neither did I,” Nando laughs, cupping his face in his hands. “C’mere.” He kisses him gently, and Quinn laughs a little against his mouth.

“Hi,” Quinn mumbles.

“Hi.” He runs a thumb over his cheekbone. He’s definitely wearing blush, actually. “I missed you today. How’d it go?”

Quinn lets off a long breath, closing his eyes; he’s still smiling a little. “It went very well,” he starts, “but it was a long day.”

Nando pulls back a little, takes him by the hand, and starts to lead him to the bench. “I brought you dinner,” he says, gesturing to the bag and the tea. “And something for your throat.”

Quinn makes a gentle noise of either exhaustion or gratitude, and he squeezes his hand. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

Nando kisses his cheek. “I wanted to,” he replies, then hands him the tea. “I can carry the food. Where are we going? You need to make any stops?”

“No,” Quinn says, leaning against him as he lifts the cup to his lips. “Next stop, my room.”

“ Nice .” This is exactly what he was hoping he’d say. Nando watches him take the drink, then exhale deeply, like it’s essential oils or something. He tries not to let his eagerness show on his face.

“This is perfect,” Quinn says, of the tea. “I’m serious, Sebastián; thank you.”

“Of course, baby.” Nando is still sort of lost in the sight of his made-up face. It’s not so different from regular Quinn— maybe it’s just the whole theatre thing, the knowledge that this is how he’ll look next weekend, the pride in what his boyfriend is doing. But also, his eyeliner. Who knew he could rock eyeliner?

“You’re staring,” Quinn laughs.

“You’re cute!” Nando whines, and wraps an arm around him to kiss him again. Quinn squeezes at his forearm, and Nando keeps it sweet but also not obnoxious for a public place. They have this down to a science.

“C’mon,” Quinn says, once he releases him, and holds out his free hand. Nando takes it and follows him; he leads him towards the door that will lead them toward the dorm. “Before whatever’s in that bag gets cold.”

Nando falls into step next to him. “Seriously, how did it go?” he asks. “Tell me about your day.”

Quinn squeezes at his hand again, and when he looks up to meet his eyes, there’s something of a twinkle in his gaze. Nando just about swoons on his feet. “Come back to my room,” he replies, “and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Nando is more than happy to comply.

He’s kind of pretty sure that he’d follow this boy anywhere.

[wheretfisbucky]

Scholastic Aptitude- part I

(aka the Starker fic I’ve been working on since the beginning of time) Warnings: there’s a lil bit of smut in this part

Also on ao3

He doesn’t want to ask her. Since May lost her job, he’s already had to ask her for money for a new backpack and supplies for his robotics project. May’s been driving Uber and frantically searching for a new job, but she can’t seem to stay ahead of the rent. He doesn’t want to ask her, but he isn’t sure what else to do.

“Why don’t you just whore yourself out?” asks MJ at lunch.

Peter looks up from where he’s been discussing it privately with Ned. MJ is sitting far too close to them, as usual. “Can you, like… stop eavesdropping?”

MJ shrugs her shoulders, rolling her eyes in that weird way she does. “I mean, I’m just sayin’, the SAT only costs like 80 bucks. There’s plenty of weird old men who would give someone as pretty as you way more than that to be their ‘sugar baby’ or whatever.”

Peter cringes at the term ‘sugar baby’. Ned is chuckling into his palm. MJ goes back to her sandwich.

“Ned!” Peter says, hitting him on the arm. “What am I gonna do?”

“I don’t know, man, why don’t you just let me lend you the $80?”

“Because you’re my friend, and you wouldn’t let me pay you back.”

“Yes I-”

“Ned.”

Ned lowers his head in defeat. “You’re right.”

“I know I am.” Peter smirks, the matter at hand momentarily forgotten.

Ned bursts out laughing again. “Wait, did MJ just call you pretty?”

Peter turns beet red, but quickly begins giggling as well. “I dunno, man. Ew.”

______________

Peter wants to get a job, to help out with the bills. He has for years now. But May won’t let him. She says he needs to be focusing on his schoolwork and besides, they don’t have money for bus tickets. Peter counters that she can just drop him off at his job, he’ll find one that’s close. But she always insists that it’s ridiculous, and he should drop it.

Peter doesn’t even want to go to college that badly. Sure, he’s a brilliant student and would do fantastically, but he knows how the system works. Institutions of higher education are all set up to send people into debt. They’re for-profit. Once Peter takes the SAT, he’ll still have to pay for   college applications, and once he’s accepted into a university, he’ll have to pay tuition. And for books. And for furniture for his room and for school supplies. Peter would rather not. He can learn all sorts of new things about science from the public library, which he has free access to. Fuck the system, in his opinion.

Unfortunately, May thinks a little differently. Like the rest of the brainwashed general population, she believes that college is integral to Peter’s future success. Which means that she’s making Peter take the SAT. And apply to colleges. “I want you to have an easier time than I’m having.” May is still in school, getting her associate’s degree. Meanwhile she’s getting tossed from one receptionist position to the next.

Peter stares down at his phone, where he’s currently downloading an app called Sugar. It’s not serious; MJ’s comment just made him curious. He laughs to himself at the thought of banging some old man for cash. No fucking way. He knows he’s better than that.

The app finally loads. It’s bright, all pastel pinks and glitter. Handsome men float before his eyes underneath a bright purple button encouraging him to ‘SIGN UP NOW!’

“Hey Pete,” says May as she comes in the door, kicking off her flats. Peter jolts, nearly dropping his phone, fumbling to grab it out of the air before it can fall. He quickly tries to regain his composure.

“Oh, hey May,” Peter answers, trying- and failing- to sound nonchalant.

May huffs out a laugh, writing it off as typical teenage hormonal awkwardness, and heads into the kitchen. “Brought pizza,” she announces. Peter takes a moment to close the app and lock his phone, leaving it on the coffee table and bounding into the kitchen to grab dinner.

“How’s school, Peter?” May asks around a mouthful of pizza. Peter understands. She’s had a hard day at work, and she’s starving.

“It’s fine,” he says simply.

“And that robotics project?”

“It’s coming along well.”

“Well, good.”

The rest of dinner is mostly quiet, and afterwards Peter makes his way to his room, phone in hand. When he unlocks it the first thing notices is the brightly colored Sugar app. He thinks he should definitely delete this before May actually catches him on it.

But first he opens it one last time.

He can’t be blamed, honestly. There were plenty of hot guys on that app and he’s been single since, like, forever. Of course he wants to look at them.

Some of the men- or ‘sugar daddies’- are in their 70s, extremely wealthy, and look like their faces were created on a randomizer app. But every few swipes a younger, handsome stud catches Peter’s eye.

He swipes through three guys named 'Dave’ before someone catches his eye and he absolutely chokes on air. “That’s- that’s Tony Stark.” He can’t help but to say it aloud. His eyes are bulging. “That’s the CEO of Stark Industries. That’s Tony fucking Stark!”

Peter knows enough about robotics to know that it’s definitely him posing shirtless on a yacht above a caption that says “looking for a pretty young thing to spend time with while my husband is away.”

He’s so handsome, Peter can’t help but think. And fuck if his cheeks don’t heat up because he’s dreamed and fantasized about meeting Tony fucking Stark.

So maybe he doesn’t delete the app. Maybe he swipes up on Tony fucking Stark’s profile and sends him a message. It’s not as if Mr. Stark will ever see it. He just couldn’t help himself.

Before Peter goes to bed he comes over his fist, groaning “Mr. Stark!” into his pillow.

*******

Stephen’s eyes roll back into his head and he sighs in pleasure. “Christ, Tony.”

His husband is above him, panting as he rocks into Stephen in slow, deep thrusts. Stephen’s on his belly, hands clutching at the sheets.

“You oughta let me top more often, huh?”

Stephen’s gasping, but he catches his breath long enough to laugh. “Oh, absolutely not. You give it to me good, but I give it to you much better.”

The room is mostly quiet for a few moments- with the exception of the steady slaps of skin against skin and breathing in the form of gasps and pants. Stephen is thinking he’s made his point when suddenly his head is pulled back and he lets out a grunt.

Tony is fucking him much, much faster, and he’s yanking on Stephen’s hair. Tony knows that’s his husband’s weakness and it’s not long before he’s moaning and coming, eyes shiny with tears he refuses to shed. Tony rolls him over, though, his cum mixing with Stephen’s on the latter’s stomach, and he laughs heartily as he gently wipes Stephen’s eyes. “Any bold statements you wanna retract, Strange?”

Stephen shakes his head. “Not in the slightest. And I’d demonstrate, but I’m exhausted.” He yawns, and Tony giggles.

“I love you, Stephen,” he says as he nuzzles his husband’s neck.

“I love you too, Tones.” Stephen sighs contentedly, but Tony starts to squirm.

When he speaks, there’s a whine to his voice. “I don’ want you to go tomorrow, Stevie.”

His husband sighs, stroking up and down Tony’s back. “I don’t want to leave you either, Tony, but this is an incredible opportunity. You have to understand, I’m going to learn so much from this doctor, she’s using techniques no one else has ever-”

“I know, I know.” Tony cuts him off. “I know Stephen. You’ve said that a million times, but it doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.”

“Why don’t you find yourself a little plaything for while I’m gone, hmm?”

Tony doesn’t reply. Not being exclusive is nothing new between the two of them; neither man is insecure in their relationship, and sometimes they just need things they can’t give each other. Like when Stephen is out of town at one of his surgery conferences, or his trip to China, on which he’ll be leaving in the morning. But while Stephen tends to satisfy himself by screwing other guys when he’s away, none of the countless guys and girls Tony’s been through has been able to stop him thinking and worrying and wanting his husband.

Stephen senses his hesitation, starts massaging Tony’s scalp. “It’s not that long, I promise I’ll be back before you know it.”

Tony just nods, basking in the sensation and not thinking about how miserable he’ll be without his Stephen.

*******

The next day Tony wakes around noon. He insisted on driving Stephen to the airport for his redeye even though Stephen argued he could just get a cab. Maybe he blew him in the parking lot, clutching his thighs tightly and trying not to cry because he hates it so much when Stephen leaves. But now his phone is buzzing, and he unlocks it with a grunt to find a message on that Sugar app Stephen had made him re-activate.

Hi Mr. Stark ;)

That’s interesting, because Tony’s page doesn’t say his regular name. It says Anthony Strange, though legally he’s still Tony Stark. Still, for someone to know his last name was Stark, they’d have to know him, or know of him.

With a smirk, Tony clicks on the page. The boy’s name is Peter Parker, and Tony certainly isn’t disappointed in what he sees. He reads through his list of interests. Biophysics, biochemistry, mechanical engineering. The good stuff. So this kid must know him from his company, Stark Industries, the most innovative operation in their field. This could certainly get interesting very quickly, he thinks.

Tony types out a reply. Hi Peter ;)  

He’s not sure whether to be surprised or not when the response is instant.

Wow, I didn’t think you’d answer me!

Exclamation points. That’s cute. How old are you?

18.

Wow, that’s young. But he has to wonder if this is fate. What are the odds a stunning young scientist messages him only a few hours after Stephen leaves?

So you’re a budding young scientist,  huh? Tell me about that?

What was previously a choppy and odd conversation launches into a passionate dialogue as Peter describes a project he’s been working on for his school’s science fair. He’s won it the past three years of high school, and he intends to win it again. Tony doesn’t tell Peter how much that reminds him of himself, lest that make it weird. Instead he just tells him how endearing he finds it and invites him over to the penthouse. He texts Stephen, of course.

I think I actually found someone to keep me busy Stevie, he types excitedly.

Surprisingly, Stephen replies almost instantly. I’m so glad, Tony. Have fun ;)

What are you doing right now? Tony types. It’s the first time Stephen’s texted him back all day. He wonders if he’s managed to sneak away for some free time.

I’m eating my lunch.

Are you alone?

Yeah.

And ohhh, Tony wants so badly to play with his husband, to send him pictures and rile him up, but just as he manages to set up the perfect shot, FRIDAY calls out to him. “Boss, there’s a young boy at the door requesting entrance to the penthouse.”

“He’s not a boy, FRIDAY, he’s 18. Stop judging me and let him up.” Tony quickly composes himself. He texts Stephen that he’s here and heads out into the living room, and out of the elevator steps the cutest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on, except maybe his Stephen.

This is gonna be fun.

I started this so long ago y'all don’t even understand. I hope you like it! There’s definitely gonna be a party 2 and probably a part 3 as well, I’ll link them when they’re up. :)