And I hate saying it so bluntly. It makes me sound like some hack psychic who fakes the ability as a means of exploitation and a paycheck. I’ve never made money from my ability. I’ve never taken advantage of it. And, until now, I’ve never spoken of it to anybody.
But I really do see them, and I’m starting to view it as more of a curse. I have a reason for typing this out and I assure you, there isn’t a happy ending.
Every writer knows what it’s like to set a manuscript down for an evening and just… not pick it up again.
Usually when this happens, we have every intention of returning to it the next day, but for some reason or another, we don’t.
One day turns into a week. Which turns into a month. Maybe two.
The longer the manuscript’s been set aside, the harder it becomes to pick up again. It turns into this dark, hulking presence lurking at the edge of your consciousness, like something in a horror movie, eating away at that piece of your identity labeled “writer.”
The reasons for not picking it up may change, but there’s always one.
You may not know where to start again, or doubt that your abilities are up to the standard its plot or characters require. You may not know where to find the time to write anymore. You may have even sat down to write just a few minutes ago, and ended up here on Tumblr instead, unable to bring yourself to open the manuscript file.
If you’re reading this post and feel personally attacked…
I have a writing exercise for you.
Set aside ten minutes of your day to look at your manuscript.
I recommend reading the last scene you completed, but this is your manuscript and your time. You can look at the first page. Or that one scene in the middle that you actually kind of like. Just don’t look at a blank page. Blank pages are scary and this is all about eliminating writing anxiety.
Personally, I make this the last thing I do in the day, so I go to sleep with my manuscript in my head. Sometimes it helps to let my unconscious mind have a go at sorting through what I’ve read. However, I think it’s helpful to do this before any long period of time when you can let your mind wander. You may find writing more helpful before work/school or during lunch. Before a commute. Whatever works best for you.
But don’t write and don’t look for more than ten minutes.
You’re not allowed to change a single thing in the document. Not a comma. Not a misspelled word.
When the ten minutes are up, simply close the document and go on with your day/night.
There will probably be some things that you do want to change in the manuscript. They may be very simple, sentence-level fixes, but they may be as big as an idea for continuing the scene or the start of the next chapter. Let those thoughts sit with you, instead of all of the manuscript doubt and anxiety that were sitting with you before.
And yes, keeping your time down to ten minutes is important. You want a focus on a bite-sized portion of the manuscript. If you read too much, you’ll give yourself too much to consider for the next day, you’ll find too much to change, and you’ll run the risk of making your work as anxiety-inducing as ever.
The next day, sit down with your document for another ten minutes.
Allow yourself to make the changes you didn’t make the first day, or ones you’ve come up with since. This may mean adding a few commas and removing a few ‘that’s. This may mean continuing with the scene. Ten minutes is the perfect amount of time to set down a good paragraph. Try that.
Again, force yourself to stop after ten minutes, even if you’re on a roll now. The stopping means that you have to keep all of those changes that you’re excited to make inside your head. It means that your thoughts about your manuscript are good and productive. It’ll keep you looking forward to your next writing session. Key advice: at the end of every writing session, always leave an edit in your head. It’ll be that small, tangible thing you can start with in your next session.
Rinse, repeat, and develop a routine.
Sit down for at least ten minutes every day. Make it a routine. Once the manuscript is open, do whatever feels comfortable to you: whether that means reading a chapter, editing something old, or writing something new.
If you’re coming up with edits and scenes that simply require more than ten minutes, start amping up your writing time. Write for an hour. Write for two or three.
Have a super busy day and know you can’t write for an hour? Those ten minutes are still fine. They’re still enough. Never feel like having spent three hours writing yesterday means you have to spend three hours writing today. Never feel like a failure for not spending X hours a day writing. That will only lead to not writing at all.
What if you get stuck again? Go back to a shorter writing time, go back to reading and not writing. Reduce the pressure you’ve put on yourself and relax your expectations. The most important thing is simply returning to your manuscript every day whether you have something good to set on the page or not.
Never got un-stuck in the first place? That’s still okay! Keep spending your ten minutes with your manuscript. Write or just read. Keep it in your thoughts. Make it a defined, real, thing instead of that monster lurking in your head. It may take time, but eventually, something will click, and by that point, opening that file and getting started will be a piece of cake.
If you are able to write for an hour or two each day, you may find it useful to continue setting aside ten minutes each evening to read that day’s work–read but not edit–and keep a few edits in your head for the next day’s session.
By the end of a week, whether you’ve written a hundred new pages or fixed a lot of bad grammar, you’ll at least be in a place where you’re once again thinking about your manuscript in tangible terms, as a thing made up of words and paragraphs instead of anxiety and blank pages.
Maybe in the end, you’ll decide that you simply need to abandon this story and pick up a new one. If this happens, you’ll be in a great place to start, with a writing routine already in place.
More likely than not, just spending time with your story will fan up your love for it again. And once more, your manuscript will be the annoying, stubborn, untameable child you adore instead of a lurking horror.
Plot:Maybe asking your Korean teacher for help wasn’t such a bad idea. Good grades weren’t the only thing you were going to achieve from that.
Pairing: Teacher! Jung Hoseok x Student! reader
Warnings:Oral (receiving), Moaning denial, just full-on hardcore Jung Hoseok the sexy beast
Note: This is probably the first time I’m actually posting smut. It took me quite a while to write, considering it was very long, and I need to be in a certain mood for it. Thank you to my friend for giving me this idea. Please forgive me if there are any errors, english isn’t my first language. 3657 Words
P.S.You are 19 in this, and Hoseok is 25. I do not support all that underage sex stuff. Everything here is legal (wrong – please don’t fuck your teacher no matter how hot he is – but legal).
Korean Literature was probably your least favorite subject. You hated just everything about it – well – excluding the teacher. He always greeted you with a smile, asked you if you wanted help. You were the only foreigner in the class, after all. He gave you so much special attention, and you wouldn’t mind it at all. Unfortunately, that didn’t change your view on the subject. No matter how hard you tried, you always got a low grade.
“Okay students, remember we have a test on the new poem this Friday,” His voice echoed through your ears, breaking you out of your trance.
There was a solemn look on your face, while you stared out the window. Your eyes stayed on the uniformed kids flooding out of the school gates, while your nail dug under the staple holding your latest spelling test together.
5 out of 10. It was better than the last one.
No matter how bad it got, you always had this urge to try. You always wanted to keep studying for a higher score, but you just never seemed to understand everything that was thrown at you. It was like everything registered into your brain, but it never stayed – it disappeared, unlike your determination to do well.
As your eyes flickered over to the teacher, a nervous feeling settled in your chest. You now stayed after school for that exact reason. A few days ago, Hoseok had offered to help tutor you for an hour everyday until the test. It had been at least a week since he started, and you could safely say that you were getting better.
There were two things you
despised in your current situation. The first thing accrued to be
that your mom decided to move in with her new husband. The second one
was that playboy number one Jeon Jungkook turns out to be your new
stepbrother. As your parents spontaneously go on vacation you and
Jungkook have to deal with the building tension between the two of
you until an upcoming house party leaves you panting underneath him.
WARNINGS: SMUT, cursing, oral (male and female receiving), UNPROTECTED SEX, fingering, sexual tension, fluff, and overall sin.
A/N: guy’s I’ve updated twice in like a week and a half what is happening?!?! I mean, it’s not necessarily bad. Also, this fic is hella long, and I;m not going to lie, I’m really proud of it. Hope you guys like it! Part two of “Seven Minutes In Heaven” is coming next week.
You wake up with a start, breathing heavily and covered in a
thin sheen of sweat. You tried to recall what it was you were dreaming about,
but to no avail. You eventually give up, thinking that it was another
You glance at your alarm clock, wondering about the time.
Seeing that you have two more hours to sleep, you gladly roll over and go back
When your alarm goes off, you feel even more tired than you
were earlier. You still manage to drag yourself out of bed, and start your day.
It’s then when you smell the bacon, and the coffee. Perking up at the idea of a
good breakfast, you put on some more decent pyjamas, and head to the kitchen.
Most people are still asleep, seeing as the sun is only just rising, so you
wonder who is in the kitchen. You step in, and find Bucky cooking up a storm.
“Sad, or mad?” You ask as you walk in, knowing it’s one of
the two. He looks at you with confusion, so you rephrase.
“Are you cooking because you’re sad, or because you’re
pissed off? Because I know you, Bucky, and it’s only one of those two.” You
smirk at your friend, earning a smirk back.
“Neither actually.” He side-eyes, adding to your curiosity.
Summary: You don’t think your soulmark will complete itself on the same day that it comes to be on your skin, yet it happens - and who’s on the other end, a matching tattoo adorned on their skin? Only Kim Minseok, a man who could not be any more different to you. Scenario: soulmate!AU Word Count: 6,584
@restlessandordinaryOKAY, two things. One, I had this idea in my head and it is probably WAY different than you originally planned. Sorry about that. Two, this is later than I told you I would get it out. Sorry about that. Three, if you’ve got an AO3, I would like to have it so that I can gift this to you, since it is longer than a normal drabble and can stand as a oneshot.
The first time it happened, Draco swore it was just a slip
up. He wouldn’t do it again. Nope. Potter certainly didn’t deserve his generosity. Because that was exactly
what this was. People didn’t give him enough credit when it came to being nice.
just that the sight of the eleven-year-old in glasses that weren’t fitting his
face, were horribly old, fading in color and just not aesthetically pleasing,
had him wanting to rectify this travesty immediately. This wasn’t because he cared or anything. Nope. This was doing
everyone else a favor. Really. It
benefited society by no one having to see the hideous specs.
timed it perfectly. He knew that Potter tended to spend longer eating than
everyone else. Certainly, longer than Weasley. The redhead inhaled food quicker
than he did air. So, when Potter was about to leave for his morning class,
Draco signaled the school owl that he had trained to wait for his mark. It took
weeks to train the bloody bird. The
only problem was that the bird was now attached to him. Which hadn’t been
previously intended. At least the owl had proper taste.
barn owl swooped down, catching the attention of a few stragglers but otherwise
the notice was limited.
was the first expression that Draco could make out. He knew that the Gryffindor
probably wondered why his snowy owl hadn’t delivered the mail, but the boy was
too curious to not open it. Not
exactly the smartest thing to do but that was just his own suspicious nature
confusion quickly bled into shock before a genuinely pleased glint appeared in
the brunette’s eyes.
had been placed in the package, because Draco knew that intelligence was the
reason the reckless idiot hadn’t been placed into Ravenclaw. The glasses were
charmed to stay on his face until the wearer wished them off. They would mold
to the user’s needs, whether the eye sight got worse with age or not. Not to
mention, the frames would change to match the user’s outfit, ensuring that they
remain elegant at all times. Which was a deal breaker in his opinion.
resolve to allow this to be a brief moment of weakness and a onetime instance, shattered at the flush
on Potter’s face and a shy grin flickered on the Gryffindor’s lips.
this wasn’t supposed to happen. The git wasn’t allowed to make him feel like
this. Draco Lucius Malfoy doesn’t do
Draco made his way swiftly towards the entrance, inwardly cursing Potter’s
existence. It wasn’t until he almost reached the door that he heard
wow. Those are pretty expensive. Who sent them to you?”
idea.” Potter’s tone was a little awed. “The note just says, ‘To fix your face, finally’.”
was determined that the second time still be counted as a slip up. This wasn’t
going to be a regular thing. Nope. Not at all. Because that was just silly.
Draco Lucius Malfoy doesn’t do nice things
for other people. Especially to
the delivery was not as well timed as last year’s gift. The other two members
of the Idiotic Trio were still around.
watched his the school owl struggle to carry the packages and it caused
a twinge of guilt inside Draco. He couldn’t trust any other owls to do the job,
so the bird would have to do it alone.
Potter looked to the owl, it was clear that he recognized the bird. The
Gryffindor reached out a hand to softly pet the owl before opening the packages
couldn’t hear what was going on from where he sat, but he could tell that the
other boy had gasped. It was the way the eyes widened, and his mouth dropped
open slowly. Which was a great reaction so far. He knew that his gift would mean something. Not that he cared about that.
silence was killing him. He needed to
know what was being said. Draco slowly made to the end of the table, pretending
that he was listening to a few of his housemate’s conversations before using
that as a reason to go a different route towards the exit.
he passed, he caught the beginning of Weasley’s questions.
is it? Why would someone send you books full of scribbles?”
rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. Scribbles. That one actually hurt.
not scribbles, Ron!” Granger corrected. “I think it’s in Parseltongue.”
is.” Potter whispered, fingers running over the title of the first book. Behindthe Wonders ofParseltongue
Volume I: The History of the Snake Language and Why it’s a Blessing and Not a
“Why do you think they sent
it?” Weasley asked, eyeing the book warily.
send me a message.” Answered Potter, placing the book in his lap, only to pick
up the second one. Behind the Wonders ofParseltongue Volume II: The Astonishing
Accomplishments that Parseltongue has Brought to the World.
“What message? Because they
think you are Slytherin’s Heir?”
wasn’t going to even bother coming up with a mental reply for that one.
Potter shook his head. “So that I can love all parts of me. Even the ones that
are perceived as evil.”
insight had Draco fighting off a flush. That
was not his intention… not exactly. He just hated the thought of others
degrading Potter’s ability just because they don’t understand it. There is
nothing wrong with being a Parselmouth. It wasn’t dark, vile or even evil.
the note say who it’s from?” There was suspicion in Granger’s tone, which had
Draco scoffing internally. If he had wanted to harm Potter, he would have. It’s
not like the brunette even spell checks the gifts. Which was actually pretty
moronic, but that was just Draco’s thought on the matter.
just says, ‘To learn something, for once’.”
evidence against this being a onetime incident was becoming a reach, even in
Draco’s own mind. But that was beside the point.
this would probably be his worst idea yet. This was getting rather personal…
but he couldn’t allow this year to continue with the mass hysteria that
everyone walked around with. Not when it was a farce to begin with.
time, he chose to have Russet—not that he named the infernal bird—deliver the
gift during a nighttime study session the Idiotic Trio were having in the
light scratching drew Potter’s attention to the window next to him, Draco
stepped into the shadows of an alcove.
it’s you.” Potter’s voice took a happy glint to it.
watched him rip of the packaging and freeze. This was a normal reaction, but he
just hoped that the brunette wouldn’t become angry.
clippings, articles posted in obscure news outlets, court records and even
statements made by the accused where staring up at Potter.
watched Potter’s brow furrow slightly with each passing minute until he was
full blown frowning as each parchment was leafed through.
Potter whisper yelled as his voice cracked.
What is it? Oh, your anonymous friend sent you something?” Granger hadn’t
looked up from her book on Medieval
Flobberworms and Why They Were the Downfall of Mermish Society, as she
walked down the aisle.
can the Wizengamot sentence someone to Azkaban without a trial?”
caused Granger to peer up at him in confusion. “No, it violates several laws
and is illegal.”
thrusted all of the articles harshly as Weasley came around the other side of
the table and read over their shoulders.
is innocent, isn’t he?” There was a miserable confusion in Potter’s tone. But
Draco couldn’t have admitted that he knew from his father that Black truly
hadn’t been a Death Eater, without revealing sources.
guess.” Weasley began sarcastically. “There’s no signature?”
note that says, ‘To provide the proof
that has always been there, idiot’.”
∆ Jeon Jungkook had been your best friend ever since you were little. Three years with no contact, and things have changed.
∆ Jungkook x reader
∆ words: 7.6k
∆ y'all this has been maybe the easiest scenario for me to write in the past few months. I’ve had this idea ever since this song came out by Troye sivan and ariana grande it’s so good 10/10 would recommend~
When you left for abroad, Jeon Jungkook was a gangly, awkward boy with too much leg and not enough common sense. He had hair the colour of tar and skin that closely resembled the colour of your dining room table. There was a dash of a scar on his cheek from a petty argument with his brother and his teenage acne was at its peak. That was your best friend.
From the ripe age of five years old, Jungkook and you had been two peas in a pod. He was quiet and liked cars and you were quiet and liked action figures, and something in your undeveloped brains clicked. His house, which sat just next to yours and looked almost identical, was your home away from your home-that-was-less-than-a-yard-away. Your toys often found a home in his back yard and it was a common occurence to find your hair ties in his room – but it was the foundation of a beautiful friendship, and from there, you were never very far from each other.
Request: Hey doll :) I had an idea but I’m not sure if you like it. You’re a recruit for SHIELD and get trained by the Avengers and your Mentor is Bucky. So during the time together you slowly fall in love with each other but you reject him one time cause you don’t want to get in Trouble and leave the Training upset. Later that evening Buck Comes to your room and wants to have a talk with you but he can’t contain himself and you both end up having sex :) then he holds you and asks you to be his ? :) -anon
Warnings: language, smut/unprotected sex (18+), nsfw, some oral (male receiving)
Word Count: 2.9K
A/N: I listened to Africa by Toto on repeat while I wrote this whole fic. I don’t really have an explanation why, but it happened. I really enjoyed this three-day break from my first week of school but now it’s back to classes tomorrow. Anyways, feel free to send in more requests! Hope this is what you were lookin’ for!
A few months ago, Nick Fury had hunted you down in the middle of one of your freelance missions and offered you a position working for S.H.I.E.L.D. Naturally, your first instinct was to laugh in his face. Working for him and the organization meant having to abide by someone else’s rules, which, up until that point, you had always taken whatever missions you wanted, and never had to follow any other rules besides your own. But here you are, three months later, lacing up your shoes to get ready to start your training with the Avengers. Each new recruit - no matter how much experience they’ve had prior to joining S.H.I.E.L.D. - is required to go through the training, and are assigned mentors. You haven’t been told who your mentor will be yet, but honestly, you just wanted to get this over with.
You sigh and push up from the bench in the locker room, and saunter down the hallway leading to the training room as you threw your hair up into a quick, tight ponytail. Pushing through the door, you’re greeted by a bright, natural light streaming in through the skylights of the training room, and spot Fury standing near the main entrance.
“Y/N, glad you could join us,” Fury’s sarcastic voice rings out through the air as you jog up to them. You immediately recognize the other man towering behind him as James Buchanan Barnes - the Winter Soldier. Like everyone else on Earth, you were very well aware of who Bucky is - or, more accurately, was. He was strikingly gorgeous. His thick, soft locks of hair were pulled back into a bun, and the scruff on his face made his jawline look even sharper than usual. The tight black t-shirt stretched across his broad chest looked like it could rip if he breathed too deeply, and it was paired with slouching sweatpants and black tennis shoes. The smooth metal of his left arm glistened in the light. You were convinced you had never seen a man more beautiful than him, and you tried your best to brush away the steamy thoughts surfacing in your mind.
Pairing: Fuckboy!Tom Holland x Reader (A Walk To Remember AU)
Word count: 1,854
Warnings:Swearing, angst, some drinking
Summary: Tom’s cute but so is his friend
A/N:Time for me to start being an asshole :)
prt. 5, prt. 6, prt. 7
series masterlist // masterlist // tag list
You enter Tom’s apartment and glance around as you make your way to the table where Harrison was still sitting. It didn’t look much different than your apartment really. It was a bit messier, dishes by the sink and a stray hoodie and here and there with beer bottles decorating the top of the end table in the living room instead of water bottles. It was a bit messy but not too bad. However, it was quite homey, something you didn’t quite expect. Along with a few stray hoodies, there were a few throw blankets on the couch with an extra pillow. The walls were decorated with random pictures, him with presumably his family. A smile tugged at your lips.
SEVEN MINUTES IN HEAVEN — SWEET PEA X READER ( NSFW. )
Summary: The Southside Serpents don’t know what they’re getting into when Cheryl Blossom forces them to play Seven Minutes In Heaven midst of a party. Though Sweet Pea isn’t one to turn down a challenge— and he’s aching to get a turn with a particular person named Y/N…
( Warnings: Mild smut and dirty talk. )
When Cheryl Blossom came up with her infamous idea of playing seven minutes in heaven— you audibly groaned. The redhead only pulled stunts like this when she was trying to throw shade or start drama which exactly what you were trying to steer from. She had promised you no funny business if you agreed to come, and obviously she had lied straight through her ruby coated lips.
Cheryl caught your noise of discontent and narrowed her eyes at you. “Don’t be so square. It’s just a game.” She teased, but the smirk on her face spoke against her words.
You nervously shuffled on the floor next to a girl who had caught Cheryl’s eyes a few weeks ago at the drag race. Remembering her name was Toni— you sent the purple haired girl a kind smile as Cheryl clapped her hands. “Who’s going first?” She cheered.
When nobody accepted her offer, she pouted. “Fine, I guess we’ll have to do this the hard way.” Cheryl hummed as she pretended to search the crowd. You studied her carefully knowing that she had already planned this beforehand. “You—“ her dainty finger pointed a leather jacket clad boy who was leaning against the armchair quietly. A snake slithered on the side of his neck and it caught your attention. A blush burned at your cheeks as you caught yourself checking him out and adverted your eyes elsewhere. However you hadn’t done it quick enough, because Cheryl had seen it and couldn’t help but smile that she had picked a good one for you. “And my dear friend Y/N.” Cheryl proposed, drawing everyone’s eyes, to your now obviously embarrassed expression.
“Uh I don’t think this is such a good—“
“Don’t get all prissy on me Y/N. It’s just for seven minutes max.” Cheryl insisted as she quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you up.
Rolling your eyes at her forcefulness you reluctantly obliged. “Whatever.” You mumbled as you childishly crossed your arms and stomped your way into the closet. Anxiety was practically drowning you by now and all you wanted to do was folded up like a chair and pretend to be invisible. But unfortunately impossible as the lanky Serpent stepped into the closet and closed the door behind him. The light now ceasing to exist as he did so— you hoped he couldn’t see how burning your ears and cheeks were. Seconds felt like hours as you rocked on your heels. “Nervous?” You stuttered out.
Without even touching him you felt his chest move as he chuckled. Your breathing become ragged as his boots made a scrape against the floorboard as he stepped closer. “I’ve seen you around Y/N.” He disclosed. “Ever since I started Riverdale High I couldn’t understand what was it about you that drove me absolutely insane—“ his breath was fanning your face as he moved even closer than before. Your insides melted as his left hand trailed up your side and around your waist. Your mouth had dried up in suspense for him to continue talking… “I couldn’t decide whether it was that short little Vixen costume you wore every time a basketball came was coming up and made it a purpose to show me you were wearing it—“ his lips brushed against your ear causing your knees to become weak. He made sure to support your weight as you reached out to fist the fabric of his shirt. “Or the fact I couldn’t stop picturing your pink little lips wrapped around my dick—“ Sweet Pea’s voice had lowered a few octaves and your had to hold back a gasp. “But now I think it’s the second one…”
Your mind was swirling as he whispered naughty things into your ear. It felt wrong and right at the same time. Your tongue darted out lick your dry lips as you moved closer to his mouth. “Let’s experiment and drive you psychotic.” You murmured. With your fingers tangling themselves in his hair, you pulled him forward to connect his lips with yours. A moan rumbled from the back of your throat you did so— for you molded together perfectly. His right hand had come to fist your hair and pull your head back slightly. The gasp you let out gave him access to slip his tongue in your mouth and explore the unknown territory. He tasted of bitter alcohol and mint: a mixture you didn’t think would taste so intoxicating. You began to lose yourself in his kiss, a bundle of nerves cramping in your stomach as air begged to be let in your lungs. Sweet Pea pulled away to allow you to breathe, only to reconnect his lips on the base of your neck. His teeth skimmed the smooth texture before sucking on it. The feeling made a tingle sensation happen between your thighs as you moaned. “Oh god—“ you called, the minutes ticking away as his left hand gripped at your thigh.
You covered his knuckles with your fingers— the wall of the closet meeting your back as you frantically pushed his hand to your aching centre. “Do something.” You begged.
But before he could act on your request, a harsh knock was laid on the door. “Okay you whores. Time’s up!” Cheryl announced.
Sweet Pea pulled away smirking. His thumb coming up to wipe the spit that had collected in the corner of your lips. Your eyes never left his as you straightened out your clothes and did your best to smooth down your hair. Though he shown no shame as he threw an arm around your shoulders and opened the closet door. “Thanks for the invite, Blossom.” Sweet Pea nodded at her. Your classmates eyes never left the two of you as you hid your face in his shoulder. Cheryl watched the two of you leave with a proud smile on her face.
“Round number two at my place, baby?”
Taking your swollen lip between your teeth you nodded. “Show me what you got, babe.”
Summary: You, a shy, insecure girl, experiences hell (aka. school) every day of your life when Jimin, the popular, perfect man that everyone is somehow afraid of, suddenly takes a huge interest in you. Maybe he wants way more than just to play with your feelings.
Prison AU: inmate dan becomes officer Phil's personal fuck toy at the prison.
Warning!! Smut: Inmate! Dan, guard! Phil, dom! Phil, sub! Dan, degradation, feminization, spanking, choking, daddy kink, hand jobs, blow jobs, closet sex, etc etc.
~Dan was told many things whenever he was first put into prison. He was told he would lose weight, eat less, exercise more, have to fight more, cigarettes were considered currency, all the usual stuff you’d be told before going to prison. No one, however, told him one thing in particular: That he would be a prison bitch.
~Dan had always known he was gay on some level, and didn’t much care for the idea of unconsented sexual relationships in prison, which he had also been warned about beforehand. But he wasn’t just a prison bitch to another prisoner, no of course not, a guard had claimed him.
~Phil Lester was a well respected officer, he had been working here for a few years and everyone was proud of him for his years of diligent hard work. He was a man of secrecy though, kept to himself most often, about many things, including his love life. Many of his coworkers had in the past asked him about his love life, but he never spoke about it. Again, being a man of secrecy, his love life fell under that veil.
~Dan had met Phil during his first year in. He knew who he was from the moment he saw him, the blue eyes strikingly familiar in a way that made his stomach knot up with old feeling swelling up. They had been together in high school, breaking up just before graduation due to having different career path choices, and different college choices. So they had decided it best for their relationship to just break up before making things too complicated.
~Phil was doing rounds, bunk checks were regular after an incident that happened a few weeks past. He looked through each bunk thoroughly, walking through the narrow hall and going into each one to check individually. He slowly walked in bunk 13, meeting his eyes with a pair of familiar brown eyes he hadn’t seen since he spent two years looking into them daily. Dan Howell.
~Phil smirked, deciding to play fun at their chance to catch up. “Inmate. What are you in for?” He asked, leaning on the cement frame of the small room and looking around to make sure no one noticed them before meeting his eyes back with Dan’s. “Vandalism. Mom had some asshole boyfriend start beating her, I destroyed his house, car, work area, everywhere I could. I wanted to destroy him like he had been destroying mom.”
~Phil chuckled quietly, smiling fondly. “So. You still the same old mama’s boy I see.” He smirked. Dan scoffed softly, rolling his eyes and crossing his legs on his mattress, looking up at Phil with a grin. “Shut up.” He hummed. “I got three years for it too. In my opinion, totally worth it.”
~Phil nodded, looking around as the rest of the prisoners moved to the lunch area. No one would mind if he held Dan up, after all, he was an officer, he could do as he liked to the prisoners pretty much. He walked over and sat by him, smiling. “I haven’t seen you in so long.”
~Dan chuckled softly and nodded, looking at him. “Yeah. I haven’t seen you since you tore my heart out and stomped on it.” He murmured a little. “Seriously? Dan we aren’t 17 anymore you cannot still be brooding over me leaving you. I was going to a school 4 hours away from you. It would have been too hard!” He sighed, placing a hand on Dan’s thigh. “You know I loved you. I cried the whole time because I didn’t wanna leave. I loved you too much.”
~Dan sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back. “You shouldn’t touch me. Even talking to me so intimately could cost you your job.” He sighed again, his tone a little sad. “I got suspended for you four times in a year, lost two jobs over you, and gotten a teacher fired for you just because my dad is a lawyer. Danny, as it was before, it’d be worth it to lose a job over you.”
~Dan smiled softly, his dimple popping out and a light blush spreading across his cheeks. “I haven’t been called Danny in a very long time. Especially not by a guy so cute.” He hummed, swaying a little from side to side and nudging Phil.
~Phil chuckled softly, glancing around again just for safety before leaning in and pecking Dan’s cheek. “I’ve missed you. And you’re flirting.” He smiled. “Oh the flirting can get much worse. Have I ever said how much I love a man in uniform? Although, looking good in the uniform isn’t the challenge. Looking good with it off is. And I can guarantee you look damn good with it off.” He smiled bashfully at his own flirting, leaning his head on Phil’s shoulder.
~Phil laughed quietly, shaking his head and kissing his hair softly. “Why does this feel so familiar? I feel like I’m 17 again and my boyfriend is trying to get into my pants after homecoming.” He laughed.
~Dan smiled sweetly. “It does feel familiar doesn’t it?” He agreed, feeling Phil’s fingers lace with his own. “Even after all these years when you touch me I get butterflies…” He smiled, nuzzling his neck a little. “That your way of telling me you got a boner or something?” Phil snickered, feeling Dan shove him over, his laugh ringing in his ears.
~Phil smiled in adoration as they calmed down from their mutual laughter, letting Dan settle back against him before taking his hand in his own once more. “You know, orange really isn’t your color.” He commented. “And what do you suppose I do about it? It’s the only attire I’ll be allowed to wear for the next few years.” He chuckled, this time a bit sadly.
~Phil smirked again, squeezing his hand. “You could just take it off sometimes. Preferably when you’re with me.” He suggested, only half kidding. “You just miss my ass don’t you?” Dan smirked back, going along with his flirting. “Oh fuck yes I did.” Phil laughed, almost snorting. “I have to admit, it to this day is the best ass I’ve ever gotten. Probably because I love the person attached to it so much..” He smiled.
~Dan flushed pink, giggling quietly and looking up at him, moving into his lap and starting to play with his hair. “I never really got over you either, as cheesey as it may sound.” He bit his lip, and Phil felt the same butterflies in his stomach he got the day he had first kissed Dan. He was so pretty, he hadn’t aged a day. Granted it had only been a few years, but still. He was just as breathtaking a sPhil remembered him to be.
~Phil smiled at him, his hopes raising. He knew he couldn’t make a relationship with Dan again, not with him being in prison and all. But he could, at the very least, get to know him again. “Yeah?” He asked, seeing Dan nod. “Yeah..” He said.
~They were dangerously close, close enough that Phil could lean in not even an inch and close the gap between them with ease. His hands shook, he could get fired and he did love this job, he didn’t want to get fired by any means. But the way Dan looked, his hair curly and longer than it used to be, his big brown doe eyes burning into him, his lips soft and pink, the bottom caught between his teeth; he was down right irresistible, and so, on impulse, he leaned in and kissed Dan with all the passion, lust, and love he had harbored for him all these years.
~Dan kissed back with the same ferocity, lips and tongue and teeth clashing in a messy, heated kiss. His eyes were practically rolling to the back of his head, his fingers tugging at Phil’s hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer.
~Phil noticed his hands starting to wander, unable to care, gripping the ass he has been still getting off to to this day. He slid his tongue along Dan’s, exploring his mouth as if he never had before, trailing over to kiss his jawline and his neck.
~Dan leaned to the side, his eyes fluttering shut and a soft moan escaping his lips. “You’re neck is still such a fucking g-spot for you huh baby boy?” He purred, nipping and sucking, but not leaving marks. Dan was letting out soft moans, the room quiet all except for Dan’s panting and breathy moaning. “Please..” He begged quietly, desperate to be silent but knowing it was going to be nearly impossible, especially for him.
~Phil smirked against his pale skin, dragging his teeth over a vein in his neck and chuckling. “You gonna beg me baby? Beg for my cock like the slut you always are for me?” He asked, starting to unbutton Dan’s jumpsuit. Sure, they could be caught, sure this was wrong, sure this could cost him his job; But looking at Dan, his shirt halfway undone, his cock straining against his slightly chubby stomach, his eyes shut and moans slipping past his lips, Phil was reminded of just how much he didn’t care.
~Phil caught his lips for another rough kiss, slipping his hand down to grip Dan’s cock, stroking slowly. Dan nipped Phil’s bottom lip, tugging softly before moaning again, thankful everyone was at lunch and no one was around to hear the whorish noises he was making. “I’m barely even touching you.” Phil smirked. “And you’re already so close aren’t you?” He asked, speeding up his movements, swiping over the head of his cock with his thumb and collecting the beading precum.
~Dan whimpered, nodding half heartedly as he desperately bucked up his hips, trying to get more, Phil’s slow pace so delicious but so damn torturous. “More.” He begged again, leaning his head back and bucking his hips to no avail, Phil holding them down with force. “What do you want baby?” He asked, removing his hand from Dan and hearing him whine loudly at the loss, his hips still bucking up in desperation, trying to get friction to his throbbing cock.
~Dan whined again, finally relenting in understanding that Phil wouldn’t do anymore to him until he begged. And so as many times before, he dropped all pride, and begged like a whore for his rightful owner to fuck him senseless. “Please sir fuck me please! No one can make me cum like you do, please daddy, please I’ll do anything!” Tears fell past his eyes, he was so easy to work up and Phil would be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on.
~Phil smirked smugly, nodding and kissing him briefly, slipping a key into his hand. “There’s a closet down the hall. Everyone else will be outside in the yard. I’ll be there in a moment.” He instructed. “I want you naked and stretched by the time I’m in there and if you aren’t? I’ll spank that perfect ass so hard you won’t be able to sit for the next week.” He finished and Dan nodded eagerly, getting up off his lap and dashing down the hall to do as told.
~Phil waited for some time to pass before making his way down to where he knew Dan was at, opening the door and smirking to himself. It was dimly lit, the window on the door covered, but most notable of this all was Dan. Dan who was bent over a small table, three fingers inside himself, stretching himself open and moaning loudly.
~Phil walked over, slapping Dan;s ass hard and making him squeak. “You better shut the fuck up slut. Or everyone in this damn prison is going to hear you acting like a fucking whore for me. Do you want tha Danny? Knowing you I bet you would. Everyone here to know your ass belongs to me, that pretty pink cunt is for me and me only to stretch open and fucking ruin.” he smacked his ass again, gripping the soft skin. “Isn’t that right baby?” He asked.
~Dan only moaned in response, feeling another harsh slap to his ass after he didn’t respond properly. “Fuck! Yes yes you’re right daddy! I want everyone to know I’m yours.” He admitted.
~Phil chuckled, flipping Dan around and pushing him to his knees. “No lube baby. Guess you’ll just have to get my cock wet enough with that beautiful mouth of yours.” He smirked, lifting Dan’s chin to make eye contact.
~Dan nodded, unbuckling his belt and undoing his jeans as quick as his fingers would let him. He tugged down his pants, mouthing over him through his boxers slowly. He kept looking up at Phil, wide innocent eyes, as if he was doing nothing arousing whatsoever. Phil groaned quietly, the cold air hitting his hard cock as Dan pulled him free from his boxers.
~Dan slowly licked up the side, putting on a show almost, wanting to do his absolute best, but still be a tease in the process. He swirled his tongue around his tip, wrapping his lips around him and slowly bobbing down. He kept a slow pace, taking Phil into his mouth and swiping his tongue over his slit every time he came back up.
~Phil tangled his fingers into Dan’s hair, pushing him down with force and watching Dan hollowing his cheeks to accommodate him, speeding up his movements. Dan bobbed his head quickly, his tongue working over every inch of his cock, making sure he’d be slicked up enough to fuck him painlessly before Phil pulled him off. He wiped the spit dripping from his mouth, the taste of precum stuck to his tongue in a way that made him even more desperate to be filled up and fucked hard.
~Phil pulled him up by the hair, pushing him over the desk and smacking his ass once more. He slowly rubbed his tip over his slightly gaping hole, pushing in just the tip before pulling out again. “You know the drill, I’m sure..” He smirked.
~Dan whimpered, looking back at him and blinking, his lips parted and his thighs starting to shake, his breathing unsteady. “Daddy please..I love being your toy. Letting you fuck me, mark me, break me, cum deep inside me. Please. Make me yours.” He whined, and that was all it took for Phil to slam in.
~Dan cried out, tears brimming in the corner of his eyes, pain and pleasure, along with his tears, clouding his vision as he looked back at Phil. He rocked his hips back, letting himself adjust but wanting more already. Phil smirked, pulling out and slamming back in not too long after, another loud and whiny moan passing Dan’s parted lips.
~Phil gripped his ass, watching himself slide in and out of the younger male, his hips pushing back against him with each hard thrust. “So good for me baby..” He gripped with both hands, kneading his ass as he sped up his thrusts, steadily slamming into him over and over again, his hips hitting against Dan’s ass with each rough thrust into him.
~Dan was struggling to stay silent, moaning loudly, the whole room smelling of sex, and the only noise to be heard in the whole area his loud, porn star moaning. Phil leaning forward, wrapping his hand around Dan’s throat and choking him. “Shut the fuck up!” He hissed, listening to Dan choke on his own moans, silencing significantly but still sounding beautiful with his symphony of whorish moans.
~Phil kept slamming in, hitting his prostate dead on each time with precision, as if he still knew exactly where to hit to drive Dan wild. “You sound like such a fucking whore all for me baby..” He leaned down to bite his earlobe, smirking. “Letting me fuck your pretty little cunt, making such loud noises for me baby. How did I ever get so lucky?” He praised, listening to Dan have to stifle another loud moan, the pressure on his throat increasing along with his arousal from what Phil was saying.
~Phil tugged down softly at his earlobe, tightening his grip on his throat as he grew closer, the pressure building in his lower stomach. He let go of Dam’s throat, hearing him gasp and moan as he tried to get his breath back. He reached down, wrapping his hand around Dan’s cock tightly and stroking in time with his harsh erratic thrusts.
~Dan cried out, getting louder as the same heat built in his stomach, signifying he was getting closer with every hard thrust against his spot and every harsh tug on his leaking cock. He moaned loudly, hearing Phil let out a soft noise under his breath, coming hard inside of the younger male.
~Phil panted gasping a little as he came hard inside of him, thrusting through his orgasm and feeling Dan tighten around him, the younger male closing his eyes and letting out a long drawn out moan as he came as well, bucking his hips into Phil’s hand to ride out his own orgasm.
~After they had both calmed down they laid against each other, naked and in a small cramped closet, breathing heavy. Eventually they started getting dressed, kissing and saying quick goodbyes since everyone was going to come in soon.
~Dan walked away, a smile on his face and putting his hand in his jumpsuit pockets, feeling a slip of paper in his pocket. He opened it and smiled even wider. “I missed you. Maybe we could do this again sometime?”
A/N: Alright. I wrote this while my little brothers were all next to me playing video games on my tv. So, I’m going to hell, essentially. I hope you like this! It’s 2.9 k of dirtiness. I’ve been watching OITNB lately so this was written literally bc of that not gonna lie.
here are a bunch of AMAZING fics I’ve enjoyed and loved reading throughout the month of august. I recommend that you read these great fics in september, if you haven’t already!! also check out the HL Summer Fic Exchange!
(all fics with a star are my favorites and if there are two stars then it was a favorite favorite)
He’s beautiful. His eyes are a stunning green, the color of new foliage. The new kid’s limbs are long and lanky—he looks extremely uncomfortable and uncoordinated. Louis internally smirks to himself, guessing the kid probably won’t be too skilled with a sword, or a bow, or anything sharp, most likely. His hair falls to his shoulders in sets of loose, brown curls. The color is rich and luscious, resembling soil so much that it looks like flowers could sprout from his hairline at any moment. But Louis’ eyes are stuck on his soft looking lips, pink as flower petals and slightly parted as his eyes scan the horizon of the camp.
Louis was leaning against the railing of the bridge, looking down at the water completely lost in thought when he heard someone approach the bridge from the side that he came from. Glancing up, he noticed Harry walking towards him, hands stuffed deep in his pockets, and seemingly lost in thought. Louis shifted his weight onto his other foot and stood up properly, watching quietly as Harry walked past him. Louis opened his mouth. He wanted to say something to Harry to break the silence, or at least to get him to notice him standing there against the bridge railing - but the words got stuck in Louis’ throat, and he snapped his mouth shut, going back to staring down at the water mindlessly instead. All the while, trying hopelessly to figure out what the fuck he’s doing with his life. Harry kept walking, and soon Louis was once again left alone to his thoughts.
Or the one where Louis really doesn’t hate his neighbor who keeps waking him up at the crack of dawn. Ft magic, Liam, Niall, and Zayn barely being mentioned, Harry and his fucking motorcycle, a date and a kiss.
Five Times Tony Stark Was a Good Dad (And One Time He Wasn’t) Pt.2
Wow…I have no words, you guys are amazing and I’m so thankful for the amount of love this story has received! I really hope you guys like this chapter, it’s kind of long, I definitely had fun writing it and I hope you guys enjoy it! Please let me know if you guys have an suggestions!
P.S. I glanced over this, so it’s technically considered un-edited, so forgive any mistakes!
Peter tapped his pen against his Chemistry notebook rhythmically, eyeing the clock on the wall with keen interest as the seconds ticked by too slowly for his liking. He was ready to get out of here and back into Mr. Stark’s—Tony’s lab and work on some upgrades for his web-shooters. He had a few ideas he thought up last night and he was excited to run them Mr.—Tony.
That one was still taking a while to get used to.
Ned was scribbling down notes next to him, something Peter should be doing too, but instead he was sketching out a new formula for his web-fluid and he wondered if Ned would mind being a bro and letting him copy his notes after class.
“—and I know everyone is anxious to get out of here, but if you could spare a few minutes of your time, I want to discuss the end of semester project with you guys—”
Peter fought back a groan.
While admittedly, Chemistry was one of Peter’s favorite subjects and he had no problem knocking out the homework for this class, however, a project was something that was time consuming and time was something Peter was in short supply of these days. Ever since becoming Spider-Man, Peter’s attention to school and his work and his grades had started to waver. Luckily, May just blamed it on teenage rebellion and his commitment to his “internship” with Stark Industries. A few weeks ago, when Tony had shown up to his school completely out of the blue and offered him one on one time with him (and a rather starstruck Ned) and his lab, he held true to his promise of having Peter over again and now, Peter was over at the tower three or four times a week, working on upgrades for his suit or helping Tony with his suit (Peter wouldn’t admit it, but it still blew his mind that he got to actually touch the Iron Man suit, let alone help design new features for it) or Tony’s more recent project, developing new legs for a now paralyzed Rhodey.
Tony was determined to make a set of robotic legs that would allow Rhodey to walk normally again and Peter was happy to help him. Besides Germany—and even then, after getting a plane dropped on him by Captain fucking America, Peter’s recollection of the events were hazy at best—he had yet to meet the iconic War Machine, but he could remember Tony’s agitation on the way back to his apartment, his fingers drumming on the leather seat, constantly checking his StarkPhone for news. Tony being Tony, he tried to hide it underneath jokes and sarcasm, but Peter could see the worry in his eyes, the tension in his jaw and he knew that Tony was afraid. Afraid of losing yet another person and he knew that his fear, his guilt at not being able to save Rhodey, pushed him to make him the best prosthetic legs that would best even human legs.
And Peter knew, that if anyone could accomplish it, it would be Mr. Stark.
The bell rang, bringing Peter out of his thoughts and he heard his chemistry teacher sigh, “Alright, I thought we had more time and I know you guys are ready to get out of here, so I’ve taken the liberty of typing up the project requirements, so please collect them on your way out and have a good weekend guys.”
Peter hastily shoved his notebook into his (new) backpack—he had a bad habit of misplacing his backpacks and was now on his fourth one—and walked up to the front of the classroom, where a small line had formed in front of Mr. Smith’s desk, students jockeying for a position at the front of the line in order to get an information packet and leave.
He ended up behind Flash, who glanced over his shoulder when he heard someone approach and visibly paled when he saw it was Peter, but tried covering it up with a dirty look before turning back around.
Peter hadn’t heard much from Flash since Tony’s verbal annihilation of him in front of the whole school a couple of weeks ago. He seemed to be heeding Tony’s warning and keeping any unnecessary snide comments to himself.
Peter overheard part of Ms. Potts’ rather…colorful phone call to Tony, his heightened senses picking up her ire with him until they got ten blocks away and her angry voice and Tony’s pleading had faded into the honking horns, the clanging of the trains and the thousands of voices in the restless Queens neighborhood.
He wasn’t sure what became of that particular situation, anytime he’d ask, Tony would just distract him with a new idea for his suit or deflect his question with a sarcastic comment and finally, Peter just decided to give up. Whatever happened, though, seemed to work, because Flash hasn’t even bothered to even look in Peter’s direction and seemed to be going out of his way to not even be within ten feet of Peter, which was more than fine with Peter.
When it was Peter’s turn, he grabbed two packets, one for him and another one for the slowly approaching Ned, who was still writing down notes in his notebook.
Peter raised an eyebrow, “Dude, why are you still taking notes? The lecture ended like, ten minutes ago.”
Ned looked up, startled from his hasty note taking and for the first time since class had started, made eye contact with Peter.
“Didn’t you hear Mr. Smith? Our final’s on Tuesday and I was finishing the review notes.”
At Peter’s horrified look, Ned paused, giving Peter a strange look, “Um, weren’t you paying attention at all?”
Peter rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, giving a nervous laugh, “Uh, heh, see I was working on some new ideas for my,” he gave a quick glance around the classroom, and seeing a few lingering people, he lowered his voice, “you know, project.” He said, giving Ned a meaningful look.
Ned just continued to look confused, “Uh, we just found out about the project, like, five seconds ago, how could you—oh,” he muttered, eyes widening in realization when Peter mimed his web-shooting, “—that project. Right, I knew that.”
“Uh huh,” Peter said, completely unconvinced, as he began walking out of the classroom and into the busy hallway, “so anyways, review notes—“
Ned, however, seemed completely oblivious to “Hey, do you think I can help you? You know, with your,” Ned took a surreptitious look around the hallway, “project? Like, I was thinking and you could use, like, an arsenal of your, stuff—“
A girl walking past them shot Ned a disgusted look and Peter flushed, “Look, Ned, I appreciate it, but Mr. Star—Tony, has it covered. I’ve seen the blue prints and he has like, five hundred different web combinations and they’re so awesome—“
“You’re on a first name basis with Iron Man?!” Ned said loudly and the people still lingering in the hallway turned and glanced in their direction curiously. Peter laughed nervously, giving them an awkward wave before turning back to Ned, shooting him a glaring
“Dude.” Peter hissed, annoyed.
Ned gave him a weak smile, “Sorry.”
Peter sighed, shaking his head, “Look, right now, I need to worry about passing Chemistry and that starts with this project,” Peter said, staring down at the paper in his hands forlornly, “which sucks because I was supposed to help Mr. Stark with more Iron Man upgrades today and I had this totally awesome idea for my web shooters that I thought of in Chemistry that I was gonna run by him and now I have to cancel—“
“Cancel on who?” A familiar voice said from behind him. Ned squeaked in surprise, seeming to forget that he’d met the man before and even played with his robots, “and kid, what’d I tell you about the whole Mr. Stark thing? It makes me feel old and I’m clearly anything but old.”
Peter closed his eyes, wincing, before turning around and giving Tony a panicked look, “Uh, hi um, Tony, what are you doing here?”
Tony gave him an assessing look and Peter swore he could see a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, but when he blinked it was gone, “I guess aside from a new phone, I also need to get you a calendar, you see it’s Friday and you usually come to the tower on Friday—“
“No, I know that, I just meant, well, usually Happy picks me up.” Peter said lamely, twisting his hands nervously.
Tony raised his eyebrow, eyeing his hands, “Happy’s waiting in the car, I came to see what was taking you so long.”
Peter’s eyes widened, Oh, well, it’s just well, I uh, something’s come up so—“
Both eyebrows raised this time and Peter stuttered, “Uh, well, you see, um—“
“Peter’s flunking Chemistry,” Ned blurted out, “and we got assigned this ridiculous project today and it’s worth half of our final grade and we only have until Monday to do it—“
“Ned.” Peter whispered harshly, shooting him a betrayed look over his shoulder.
He at least had the decency to look sheepish.
“I knew there was a reason I liked you, Ned,” Tony said approvingly and Ned preened at the praise. Turning to Peter, he nodded to the paper still clutched in Peter’s hand and held his hand out, “normally I have a thing with people handing me things, but c’mon, cough it up.” he said, wiggling his fingers and reluctantly, Peter handed it over and Tony read it over.
“Chain reactions blah blah blah, build a model of a paper maché volcano and pick two chemical elements from below that can cause a chain reaction in the volcano and make it erupt, blah blah,science stuff, or if you can think any other natural disasters that can cause a chain reaction, blah and more science stuff, due Monday, worth half of you final grade—“
Tony blinked, “Huh, I didn’t know they were still making you do these things—seriously, a paper maché volcano? The education system needs a serious reboot.”
Tony folded the paper in half and then tucked it in to his suit jacket, “Right, well, this sounds important so we better get started—I’d say you could tag along, Ned, but the Audi only seats two, so.” He nodded at him and turned on his heel and began walking down the hallway.
Ned was torn between staring after Tony’s retreating figure and staring at Peter with disbelieving eyes, “Dude, are you sure that spider that bit you is dead? Because honestly? I could go for a radio-active spider bite if it means I get to work on my school project with Tony Stark—“
“Underoos, you coming? We’ve got a few stops to make before we head back to the tower, so get a move on, a little pep in the step.” Tony said, stopping at the end of the hallway and gesturing to the door with a dramatic sweep of his arm.
“Good-bye, Ned.” Peter said with a roll of his eyes.
“Well, fine—I’ll make my own radioactive Spider since you don’t want to share! An army of radioactive spiders, an army Peter—“
Ignoring the stares from the few students that were still at the school, Peter followed Tony out to the front of the school and to his illegally parked, sleek candy apple red Audi R8 Spyder. Peter practically salivated at the sight of the car—barely managing a half-hearted wave at Happy who was parked behind Tony in the town car—running his fingers reverently over the door handle, all but whimpering at the warm paint and fiberglass underneath his fingertips.
He jumped when the wind rolled down with a barely audible hum, Tony’s body craning over the gear shift to stare at Peter impatiently, “Are you gonna stand there and drool all over my car or actually get in it?”
Peter flushed, hastily opening the door and situating himself in the plush leather seats, “Where are we going?” he asked as he closed the door gently.
Tony revved the engine, darting out into the late afternoon traffic, “My lab isn’t stocked with everything we need and I know just the place.”
Hobby Lobby to Tony, Peter was learning, was what most candy stores were to toddlers.
He weaved in and out of the aisles with such ease that led Peter to believe that this wasn’t his first trip here and Peter followed him, for lack of any other options and watched in disbelief as Tony threw item after item into the cart, not even bothering to look at prices.
“Mr. Stark—there’s no way I can afford all this, May only gives me twenty dollars a week and this looks like it’s way more than twenty dollars—“
Peter looked down at all the supplies in the cart mournfully, his wallet physically aching at the amount of…stuff Mr. Stark had piled into the cart. This was supposed to be a little chemistry project and Mr. Stark was treating it like one of his projects. Expensive, flashy, but bound to impress, as usual.
Tony seemed to be paying him no mind, however, holding up a box of plastic palm trees with an interest that would be amusing if dancing dollar signs weren’t obscuring Peter’s vision and making him vaguely nauseous.
“Nonsense, kid,” Mr. Stark said dismissively, reading the back of the box with a quirked brow, “do you think twenty-five of these things would be enough? We don’t want it to be too tropical looking because Chile, believe it or not, has a nice balance between palm trees and regular trees—and hey, didn’t I tell you stop calling me that? It’s Tony or nothing.”
“Okay, Nothing,” Peter said cheekily and at Tony’s glare, his smirk faded, “s-sorry, uh, Tony.”
Tony’s lip twitched into a smile, as he tossed two boxes of the plastic palm trees into their cart and continued down the aisle, giving Peter no choice but to follow.
“Seriously, Tony I can’t accept this—“
Tony stopped so suddenly that Peter narrowly missed hitting him with the cart, once again thankful for his quick reflexes, stopping the cart just shy of ramming him in the ankles.
Tony turned to Peter, eyes unusually devoid of his signature sunglasses, giving Peter a rare opportunity to see the depth of emotions flash through his dark eyes.
“Kid,” Tony started, but stopped himself, letting out a sigh. He looked tired, like he was fighting an internal battle and losing and suddenly, Peter felt a surge of sympathy for the billionaire standing in front of him.
“Look, my dad never…took an interest in this—stuff,” Tony said, gesturing to the cart full of merchandise, everything from a papier mâché kit, paint, fake grass to the plastic palm trees and those little foam building kit things Peter remembered making in kindergarten, “actually, I’ve never made one of these things before, can’t exactly turn one of these things in at MIT and expect to get an A in chem lab,” Tony continued with a snort, “anyway, my point is, I don’t really mind helping you with this, homework, projects, whatever.” He finished, waving a dismissive hand
Peter was taken aback, not expecting something that…vulnerable to come out of Tony’s mouth, especially in aisle eight of Hobby Lobby, but either way, Peter was touched.
Uncle Ben always helped him with these projects and while he always said he was never as smart as his brother, Peter’s dad, he was still good at putting things together and as long as Peter did all the science-y stuff, as he liked to call it, he’d help him piece it together.
Peter knew that Tony couldn’t ever take Uncle Ben’s place, no one could, and while he wasn’t sure why Tony went out of his way to help Peter, he knew Tony would never try to replace what Uncle Ben was to him. And Peter himself hadn’t quite figured out where Tony fit into his life, but he cared about Tony like he did Aunt May and Ned and possibly MJ, in her own little twisted way.
And he knew that Tony cared about him, in his own way, because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be dropping, what Peter was sure, well over three hundred dollars in Hobby Lobby for Peter’s dumb little science project that was soon becoming something to be featured at next years Stark Expo if Tony’s rough outline he’d drawn up in the car on the back of the project packet was actually brought to life.
“Besides,” Tony continued off-handedly, “I already knew you were flunking Chemistry, your rather attractive Aunt called me and told me your grades were slipping because of the‘internship’—which we’ll discuss later, by the way—so I thought that until they get back on level ground, we won’t be working on any upgrades anytime soon and focusing, instead, on getting you through the tenth grade.”
Peter opened his mouth to protest—his grades weren’t that bad, with all things considered. And while maybe they weren’t up to his usual standard (Peter had never gotten a grade lower than a B before in his life) they were still passing. Peter sometimes wished he had an average level of intellect, because if he hadn’t been such an overachiever with all the extra-curricular activities and maintaining a 4.0 GPA in the process, well, his grades dropping to B’s and C’s wouldn’t seem like the end of the world—but Tony was already off again, weaving through the aisles and tossing random things into the cart, that, at this point, Peter was sure had nothing to do with his actual project and were more so there because Tony thought they were cool.
“Do you think this place has food dye? A good volcano has to have red lava and no kid of mine is going to have a volcano with substandard lava. What do you think about actual fire coming out of the top of the volcano? Is that too much? Nothing crazy of course, just a few minor pyrotechnics to give it that extra pop—“
Peter rolled his eyes, but silently agreed that fire coming out of the top would be pretty awesome, even if it was slight over-kill, and trailed after Tony, who was muttering something about color schemes and an earthquake involving batteries, and tried to ignore the smile that threatened at the corner of his lips at Tony calling him his kid.
After their very expensive trip into Hobby Lobby—Peter still felt dizzy and vaguely nauseous at the memory of Tony, not even batting an eye at the grand total, whipping out a black Amex and swiping it without even a sign of hesitation that Peter may or may not have been searching for—they made their way back to the Tower, Tony gesturing to Happy to grab the bags as he took a call from Pepper about the newest StarkPhone release.
Happy shot him a reproachful look, but it was replaced by something that resembled a smile, at least, by Happy’s standards, when Peter silently walked around to the trunk of the car and helped gather some of the bags. Peter, with his super spidey strength, managed to grab the majority of the bags, leaving Happy with two.
“Show off.” Happy muttered grumpily, which Peter gracefully ignored and lead the way down to the lab, where Happy deposited his bags and made a quick escape before Peter could even blink.
While he waited for Tony to get off the phone, Peter pulled up some ideas for his volcano on the internet and began scrolling through the websites google had offered up.
He didn’t have much time to browse before Tony came down to the lab, trading his three piece suit that Peter was sure was worth more than six months worth of May’s rent, for his usual lab attire—an old band t-shirt and grease stained jeans, an outfit, Peter was sure, was still worth more than any meager possessions Peter had combined.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y., please pull up the blue prints for Underoos school project,” Tony said, clapping his hands together and Peter was a bit taken a back by the amount of eagerness that gleamed in his eyes.
Following his request, the lights in the room dimmed and in the center of the lab, a hologram of a real life volcano appeared, scaled down to about an eight feet by ten feet measurement and glowing brightly in the dimness of the lab. Peter’s mouth dropped open in awe, his cracked phone lying forgotten on the lab table behind him as he made his way over to study the diagram more closely.
It was the same sketch that was on the back of the paper explaining the project, only this time, Peter could see the added details that Tony must’ve added on the car ride back to the tower. Everything from the layers of the volcano, down to the last of the fifty palm trees Tony had insisted on buying.
“This is amazing,” Peter breathed, eyes wide, hungrily taking in every detail.
Tony hummed in satisfaction, coming to stand beside Peter, eyeing the hologram with a sense of pride he didn’t even bother to hide, “It is, isn’t it? I took some artistic liberties, modeling it after the actual volcano but adding more aesthetically pleasing attributes, like if Mount Vesuvius was in Hawaii. If there’s anything on here that you don’t like, we can take it out, scrap it and start over—“
Peter wasn’t really sure what possessed him to do it—he knew how Tony felt about emotional displays of affection, let alone physical displays of affection, but he was just overwhelmed with all the time Tony had put into this little chemistry project and the lengths Tony had gone to help Peter with it. No one, no one, had ever gone to such trouble for Peter, especially for something that was so small and seemingly insignificant in the grand scheme of all the things Tony Stark had to do that were far more important than Peter’s Chemistry grade—but he found himself pressed against Mr. Stark’s strong chest, his arms that were still bony even after the spider bite, wrapping around Tony’s waist and squeezing.
“Thank you, Tony.” Peter whispered, his voice a few octaves higher thanks to well, not quite completing puberty and the amount of pure excitement flooding through his veins.
Tony froze, clearly caught off guard, arms flailing awkwardly at his sides before he settled them on Peter’s shoulders, squeezing them quickly, his discomfort with the situation quite obvious, “Um, is this a hug, right? It’s just, I’m not quite sure, it looked like you were reaching out to touch the hologram so this would be a little awkward if that was the case—“
Peter huffed a laugh, stepping away from Tony’s stilted body, cheeks flaming in embarrassment, “Uh, sorry, Tony, heh, my bad.”
Tony couldn’t help but smile, rolling his eyes and clapping Peter on the shoulder, “C’mon, kid, we’ve only got the weekend to do this, we better get started.”
Peter bobbed his head in agreement, taking one last look at the holographic blue prints still floating in the middle of the lab before he began wandering back to the lab table, where all of their supplies were laid out and ready for use.
Before he could wander too far, a hand reached out and grasped him on the shoulder. Tony gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, smile slightly unsure, but his dark eyes were sincere, “Don’t mention it, kiddo.”
“Alright, so test one—DUM-E, don’t make me regret putting you on fire duty again, one wrong move and you get demoted—Peter, hit the button on my mark, F.R.I.D.A.Y, give me a little mood lighting please and three, two, one—“
Tony gestured for Peter to hit the button and with a small click as Peter complied, they waited for it and—
DUM-E chirped unhappily from his designated spot by the corner of the lab table and Peter shared his sentiment.
Tony visibly deflated, sighing, “Well, that was anti-climatic. Alright, Underoos, strip it apart, we’ve got some requiring to do—and hey, DUM-E, don’t think I can’t see your little trigger happy fingers, no fire, no extinguishing, capiche?”
If a robot could sound contrite, DUM-E’s little defeated hoot would fall into that category and Peter couldn’t help but laugh.
“Alight, test two on my mark—DUM-E, look alive—and three, two, one—“
The volcano exploded, red dye going everywhere, splattering all over the table, a flabbergasted Peter and an equally as surprised Tony. Flames erupted from the top, like someone flipped on a blow torch and couldn’t shut it off and right on cue, DUM-E blasted the volcano with the fire extinguisher a little too enthusiastically and Peter coughed violently, his heightened senses going into overload at the overeager assault.
“Okay, DUM-E—DUM-E,” Tony shouted, snapping his fingers to get the overzealous bot’s attention, “That’s enough—no, DUM-E,” Tony said warningly when the bot’s claw reached for the trigger again, “do you want to wear the Dunce hat again? Because I will, so help me.”
DUM-E gave a petulant chirp and Peter reached over to give him a consoling pat on the head, to which DUM-E hooted brightly.
Tony gave Peter an exasperated look, “First rule of parenting: don’t reward bad behavior and look,” he said accusingly, gesturing between the two, “you’re encouraging it.”
Peter scowled, putting a protective hand on DUM-E, “He’s just trying to help, he’s just…committed, see? No more fire.” Peter said, nodding towards the rather thorough job DUM-E did, where the previously flamed-engulfed volcano that was threatening to set the lab on fire was now extinguished, smoke curling still curling in the air and only occasionally letting out an ominous hissing sound that Peter tried not to think too much on.
Tony rolled his eyes, but seem to let it go and focus on the now fulling hissing volcano, “Okay, that was too close to an actual volcanic eruption and while cool, that’s not safe for any classroom, we’re not trying to reenact Pompeii or anything.”
Tony gave the volcano a gentle nudge, jumping back when a flame flared and DUM-E, still on standby, gave it another keen dousing from the fire extinguisher.
“DUM-E, that’s—no, DUM-E no—“
It took them a few more tries and a few more explosions and Tony eventually revoking DUM-E’s fire safety privileges and threatening to turn him into a blender, for them to get a volcanic eruption that didn’t burst into flames or just trickle sadly out of the soda bottle that was serving as their prototype for the volcano.
F.R.I.D.A.Y. interrupted them in the middle of building the platform to remind Tony that he still had yet to actually eat anything and as if on cue, Peter’s stomach growled loudly.
He gave Tony a sheepish smile, “I didn’t eat lunch today.”
Tony sighed, rubbing his eyes, “Alright, c’mon kid, I can’t have you passing out on the lab floor, U still isn’t that great with a broom yet, let alone picking up actual humans, so let’s get you some food—you like Thai, right?”
Peter nodded the affirmative and he let Tony lead him out of the lab up to the main floor of the tower to the kitchen, gesturing for him to take a seat at the counter.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y., pull up some menus for the kid to look at and while you’re at it, go a head and put in my usual order.”
“It’s already been done, sir.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. responded as she brought up local Thai menus for Peter to peruse.
“Have I told you lately that I love you?” Tony asked the dutiful A.I.
“As my memory serves me, sir, you’ve never actually used those particular words to express such outwards displays of affection before, so no, you have not.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. replied dryly
Tony frowned and Peter snorted in amusement at the sass, but stifled it at Tony’s glare.
“Uh, I’ll just have two orders of Larb with a side of white rice and sticky rice pudding for later,” Peter said hastily, tapping away the menus.
“Got that, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” Tony asked and the A.I. replied in the affirmative.
“Yes, sir, ETA is twenty minutes.” She confirmed.
When the food arrived, they sat at the counter and ate their respective dishes and chatted amicably about their day. Tony watched as Peter all but inhaled his food, much to Tony’s amusement and slight concern that went unnoticed by Peter, who was too absorbed in his sticky rice pudding and shouting trivia questions at F.R.I.D.A.Y. for his history homework.
He wasn’t sure if it was just basic teenage growing pains—Tony could remember his mother chastising his eating habits at that age, comparing him to a garbage disposal with the amount of food he could pack away—or if his metabolism, along with everything else in the kid’s DNA, had been enhanced as well. Which, come to think of it, wasn’t that far fetched and Tony made a mental note to hack into Oscorp’s files to see if he could dig anything up on the spider that had given Peter his powers and compare it to the serum that was responsible for Captain Righteous and his abilities.
Tony found it ironic how he could care less about his own eating habits, but yet, here he was, watching as Peter basically licked his plate clean and the worry just continued to gnaw away at his stomach and he had to wonder if it ever went away.
This thought continued as they finished their meals and went back down into the lab and continued working on Peter’s project that was shaping up to be pretty awesome if Tony did say so himself. They worked well together, both of them focused and bouncing ideas off of each other that always seemed to be on the same wave length and Tony lived for it. The only other person who ever shared his love for science was Bruce and he hadn’t heard from him since Ultron and that familiar ache settled into his chest at memories of what used to be.
But that ache was soothed when he turned to see how Peter’s attempts at papier maché were going and a small, fond smile crossed his lips at the sight of Peter, passed out on the lab table, head cushioned by the pile of newspaper, shoulders rising and falling in soft snores.
Glancing down at his StarkWatch, he noticed they’d been down here for over four hours and it was heading closer to ten o’clock and after taking another look at Peter’s face, seeing the dark shadows under his eyes and ever growing bags, he deiced against waking the kid to take him home.
Instead, he told F.R.I.D.A.Y. to text May and let her know that Peter would be crashing at the tower tonight and then he scooped the kid up from the chair in a bridal carry, tucking his head underneath his chin and made his way out of the lab and into the elevator, murmuring to F.R.I.D.A.Y. to take him to the penthouse floor.
When they arrived to Tony’s floor, he ambled down the hall way, stopping a few doors dow from his room, to what used to be a guest room, but had been re-decorated and personalized for the kid currently snuggling into his chest. After the kid’s first visit to tower, Tony had decided to give Peter his own room in case he ever wanted it or needed it, whatever the reason, he wanted the kid to know that he had a place to come to, that he was always welcome here.
He pulled back the dark blue comforter and matching sheets, placing Peter gently down on the California king bed, untying his ratty Converse and tossing them to the foot of the bed so the kid wouldn’t trip over them in the morning.
Peter murmured something in his sleep and for a moment, Tony was afraid that he’d woken him up, but Peter simply settled against the pillow, snuggling further into the blankets and seemed to relax against the soft sheets.
Something warm and unfamiliar unfurled in his chest at the sight of kid snoozing away in the too big bed and not for the first time, Tony was struck with just how young the kid was. Peter carried himself with such maturity and a level headedness that Tony had never seen before in some adults, let alone teenagers, that sometimes, Tony forgot that he was in fact, a teenager, who still had school projects to do and had a weekly allowance and worried about pimples and zits and when puberty would finally end and if the pretty girl at school even knew he existed, let alone knew his name and it made Tony so angry, to think that this kid had been robbed of a normal childhood.
Tony learned at a young age that the world was a cruel bitch and he wished, more than anything, that Peter could’ve been spared that lesson for just a little bit longer. Peter was just so good and kind and he deserved so much better than the hand that he’d been dealt. He didn’t deserve to carry the weight of being a teenager and a superhero all at once and looking down at the dark shadows lurking underneath Peter’s closed eyes, Tony vowed to himself that he’d do anything he could to shoulder some of that weight.
He brushed Peter’s dark hair off of his forehead, a small smile dancing on his lips when Peter leaned into his touch.
It took them the entire weekend, but they got Peter’s volcano finished and the end result was worth all the time they’d spent in the lab. Tony couldn’t remember the last time he threw himself into something so heavily, the last model of the Iron Man suit or the first prototype of Peter’s suit or Rhodey’s legs, maybe, but despite the exhaustion, it felt good to be of use to someone again.
And the giant grin on Peter’s face as he stood back and admired their work was worth any re-painting he was going have to the lab after the many explosions they faced in the beginning of the project. Red dye was literally everywhere, but chose to put that thought out of his mind for now and enjoy the look on Peter’s face as he took in his school project.
It was Peter’s idea to use the earthquake in Chile as a catalyst for the volcanic eruption that occurred three days later. Underneath the board, they’d built replicas of tectonic plates that visibly shifted, simulating a real earthquake when they pressed a button. After the ‘earthquake’ was over, the volcano rumbled and hissed, steam rising and Tony got his wish for small flames to burst from the volcano—even though Peter was pretty sure that there weren’t actual flames involved with a real volcanic eruption, but Tony looked so excited at the the prospect of flames in a classroom that Peter didn’t have the heart to say no—and rocks tumbled down into the small town with roads, a replica of the ocean and little foam towns with little G.I. Joe figures serving as the town’s occupants.
Peter was definitely getting an A
“This is awesome,” he breathed, turning wide brown eyes to Tony, “thank you so much, seriously, this is…” he trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief, “so much more than what I imagined.” he finished softly, looking back up at Tony with so much admiration and gratitude that Tony shifted awkwardly, unsure what to do.
“It’s no problem, kid, seriously,” Tony said finally, clearing his throat, “like I said the other day, my dad never did…anything like this with me,” Tony paused, “not to insinuate that you think of me as your dad or anything, heh, it’s probably best that you don’t, I’m not the greatest role model and why do you think I never had kids? It’s not something I’m meant for, you know, the whole soccer dad vibe isn’t really my style and with the whole superhero thing too, I mean—“
Tony was cut off by Peter wrapping his arms around him—seriously, this kid had a bad habit of catching Tony off guard with all the random displays of affection—and settling his head on his chest.
Tony, despite his hesitation with such obvious displays, he wrapped his arms around the kid and gave him a squeeze. He hated to admit it, but the kid was growing on him, a lot more than he originally planned.
Peter pulled away, cheeks beat red, but a small smile was playing on his lips, “For what it’s worth, I think you’d make a great dad,” Peter glanced down at his shoes, scuffing them against the white tiling, “I don’t really remember much about my dad and Ben was the closest thing I’ve ever had,” he faltered, biting his lip, “but, you’ve kind of filled that void? I mean, you didn’t really take his place, but, you remind me of him, in a lot of ways? Like, he used to help me with this stuff and it just means a lot to me, that you’re here for me and I—“ Peter coughed, glancing up at Tony with a sheepish smile, “So thank you, for well, being you.” he finished lamely, blushing.
Tony was taken aback by the kid’s confession, but his heart warmed, “Kid,” he began gently, putting a hand on Peter’s shoulder, “I hope you know that it’s not my goal to take your Uncle’s place or replace him in any sort of way,” he paused, considering his next words, “I just want you to know that I’m here for you, whenever you need me.”
Peter smiled and Tony clapped him on the back, “Now, c’mon kid, let’s get you home. Your hot Aunt probably thinks I’ve kidnapped you or something, I’ll have Happy drop your project off at school tomorrow.”
Peter did get his A, but there was a…slight mishap with the flames and Flash’s eyebrows (or lack thereof) and that was how he found himself, along with Tony, in the principal’s office, facing a very unimpressed Mr. Morita.
“Mr. Stark, while it’s an honor to meet you, I wish it was under different circumstances. We encourage ingenuity here at Mid-Town and we wish for our students to get creative with their projects, but flames, in a classroom—“
“In my defense, that kid was standing way too close to Peter’s project to begin with—“
“And that kid, Mr. Stark, happens to be the kid you verbally assaulted out on the front lawn a few weeks ago—“
“Okay, have you met that kid? He was asking for it, what kind of name is Flash anyway? And besides, that kid was picking on my kid—“
Peter shrunk down in his chair, but he couldn’t hide the grin on his face. Peter could admit that the flames were too much,but he got an A and was no longer flunking Chemistry, Flash no longer had eyebrows and Tony called him his kid again. Whatever repercussions he was facing was totally worth it.
Thank you guys for reading! Let me know what you think or if you have an more suggestions for more stories or where you’d like to see this one go!