Imagine your father, Tony Stark, walking in and seeing Peter shirtless in your bedroom (also, I imagine you guys are maybe Juniors or Seniors in High School during this)
- Head Honcho ~ Zoe
“Don’t you want to take off your suit?” You question as you and Peter lay on your bed, cuddled up under the covers with the Star Wars’ menu playing on the portable movie player your father made for your birthday last year. The actual device is like his phones but it projects the screen above it like one of his blueprint tables.
“But then I won’t feel like a cool badass superhero.” He whines, throwing his head back.
“Boohoo.” You pout out your bottom lip, mocking your boyfriend. “Now take it off.” You pat his chest then scoot away from him so he can stand up. When he does get up from the bed, you make sure to place a firm slap upon his precious little butt.
“Aye.” He covers his behind, turning around to scold you but you give him an innocent look.
“What?” You shrug. “I couldn’t help myself.” You smile and burrow back into your blankets.
“You never can help yourself.” He chuckles, shaking his head.
“I’m sorry that I love you so much!”
“You’re not sorry for that.” He scoffs, you nod. “But you should be sorry for how hands-y you are.” He points a finger at you.
“I’m a Stark, it’s in my blood.” You raise your hands up in defense. “Now take it off before I come over there and help you.”
Peter just shakes his head at you but none the less has a small smile on his face. He presses the spider in the middle of his chest causing his suit to loosen as he walks over to your dresser.
He lets his suit fall down his body while he digs through his clothes in the top drawer. You don’t fight the grin that easily comes on your face when you watch your boyfriend of two years sort through the drawer. The normalcy of it makes your heart all warm and fuzzy… speaking about warm and fuzzy;
“Can you throw me a sweater?” You call to him. He nods, grabbing his famous dark blue Midtown School of Science & Technology pullover. “Thank you.” You catch the clothing item he threw.
“No prob…lem.” He cuts himself off with a yawn, stretching his arms over his head.
“Tired?” You inquire, trying to find the head hole of the garment before putting it on.
“Yeah.” He nods. “Last night’s mission was rough.” He sighs, dropping his arms to his side.
"I know, I was there.” You let out a breathy laugh then (attempt to) pull his sweater over your head. Now it’s Peter’s turn to smile and get the warm, fuzzy feeling.
He tries to shake the teenage boy thoughts out of his head that were trying to replace his sweet innocent ones. He lets out a sigh and turns around back to the drawer, fixing the waistband of his boxers so they aren’t hanging so low on his hips
“What the hell is going on here?” Someone demands, their voice loud and full of anger. You don’t see who it is because you are currently struggling with the pullover.
“N-n-nothing, Mr. Stark.” Peter stutters out.
“Nothing my ass.” You hear your father mumble then you hear footsteps stomp against your floor followed by something slamming against the wall.
You finally get your head in the right hole and see your father holding your boyfriend to the wall, a furious look on his face.
“Dad!!” You shout, flinging your blankets off and rushing to the two. ”Dad!” You grab his arm and pull him back enough to get between the two men. “Calm down.”
Your father clenches his jaw and looks between the two of you. He notices your worried expression and relaxes his posture but doesn’t get out of protective dad mode.
“Sit down.” He demands, pointing to the bed while he walks a few feet in front of it. “Both of you, sit down.” He repeats. You and Peter share a hesitant look but go over to the bed and sit down at the foot of it.
A painful silence falls between the three of you as your father paces back and fourth.
“I-I-I swear, we didn’t do anything.” Peter bravely breaks the silence
“Then why are you stuttering?” Dad questions, Peter’s eyes widen.
“Th-tha-that’s a good point, but to be fair, I always stutter around you.” He lets out a nervous laugh, Dad sends him a look causing him to shut up and look down at his hands.
You sigh and hang your head. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Peter’s hands shaking a little bit. Even with Peter being Spiderman, he still shakes when he’s nervous or scared… especially when it comes to your father.
You carefully pull his hand from his lap and place it in yours, your fingers interlaces with his.
“I can’t believe you would do this to me.” Your father finally says. “I went to you for help and gave you a new suit, all access to… some of my lab, and you’re getting a free ride to college from my sponsorship for you.”
“And…” He stops pacing and runs a hand through his hair. “And to say thank you, you… fondue with my daughter.”
“As much as I hate to point this out right now, you knew and approved of Peter and I dating.” You bring up, your dad opens his mouth to speak but closes it.
“But I didn’t approve of you two fondueing.” He smirks.
You let out a scoff while rolling your eyes.
“You shouldn’t be one to scold me about that.” You call out. “And we weren’t doing anything like Peter said.”
“Then why were you getting your shirt back on and why was–” He sighs and facepalms. “–why is he–” He points to a very de-robed Spiderman. “in his underwear?” Peter’s face turns red and he grabs a blanket and covers himself up.
“I was cold and Peter was changing out of his suit.” You defend. “And if we were doing something, you could’ve walked in on a much worse moment.” Peter’s eyes widen and he shrinks down a bit, cringing at what you just said.
“I’m going to pretend you, my sweet little innocent pride and joy, didn’t just say that.” Dad closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “But I’m just going to at least hope you guys are responsible.” He hints, not wanting to fully say to ‘use condoms’. You nod but his eyes are on Peter for that one.
“Peter.” He calls, the young brunette’s head shoots up. “Responsible?”
“What?” He furrows his eyebrows, you nudge his arm and give him a look. “Oh, yeah, yeah. Of course!” He furiously blushes but nods his head.
“Ok.” Dad wipes his sweaty hands on his pants while letting out a deep breath. “So, I’m just going to go then…” He slowly makes his way towards the door. “But if I do happen to come in here later, you both better be clothed and being sickeningly cute couple by cuddling, okay?”
“Yes, sir.” You both nod.
“Good.” He faintly smiles. “I’m going to go now…” He slowly closes the door.
“Bye, Dad.” You wave.
“Bye.” He sits his head back in then goes back to slowly closing the door. “Pizza for dinner.” He announces.
“Alright.” You giggle. ”Bye, Dad.” You repeat.
“Bye.” He whispers, the door fully closing now.
You wait a few seconds to let your father walk away from the door to say anything.
“Soooo…” You speak up. “Want to start the movie?”
“Please.” He stands up, heading to your dresser to start it and get every layer of clothing he can incase your father walks back in.
a/n: sin as always
let me know if you liked anon, I can write another one if you didn’t
sorry if it’s trash (and if I’m a trash)
and let me know if you guys have a request or if you want a part 2 of something
let’s sin together
• one day you’d drink a few beers
• you’d not be drunk, but honest
• and before you get home you’d buy this really cute boxer of spiderman for yourself bc why not?
• at your home you decide to take a shower and inaugurate your new underwear
• you really didn’t thought about taking others clothes so you’d just go to your room with a towel and the boxer
• you’d stop in the door noticing that your boyfriend is in your bed watching TV
• you’d be able to see the shock in his face when he look at you just wearing a towel
• the way your wet hair sticks in your smooth skin always low key turn him on even if you don’t know it
• “I bought something thinking on you”
• he’d clean his throat before he answer
• “And what’s it, baby?”
• you’d drop the towel reveling your spiderman underwear and he’d feel his a twitch in his dick
• your body is such a perfect vision to him and he’d have difficulties to think straight
• “Darling, why’d you buy a boxer of spiderman?”
• you would slowly walk in his direction and start to climb in your bed
• “Because I didn’t find panties of superheroes”
• he’d be turned on but would do his best to hide it
• “Okay babygirl, but why of spiderman?”
• “Because I always want you between my legs”
• Tom would throw his head back holding a moan
• as he swallow hard you’d see his adam pome move and that defiantly would give you dirty thoughts
• since he’s with his eyes closed would be a delicious surprise when you just sit on his lap
• your boobs would be pressed again his shirtless chest and your hands would be playing with the soft curls in his hear
• his hands would be traveling through your back making your shiver under his touch
• you’d touch his forehead with yours and that would let your lips almost touching
• “Tom, can I tell you a secret?”
• he’d agree with throaty groan
• “You’re the best everything of my life. You have the best kiss, the best hug, the best perfume, the best cuddle, the best cock and for sure the best fuck”
• with that Tom would hungrily kiss you
• oh boy what a hella of a kiss
• you wouldn’t have idea of how much he likes when you compliments him
• he’d turn you around so he could be on the top of you, kissing and exploring your body with his hands
• soon his lips would be in your neck, easily finding your sweet spot making you let a low moan escape
• “You have such a smooth skin, princess. I could kiss it for hours”
• you were able to feel his hard bone through his pants and you’d put your legs around his waist trying to get more contact
• “Tom… Please. I need you.” you’d say that moving your hips under him hoping to get some relief
• “What for, my love?”
• one of his hands would be on your ass and the other on your tight both pressing the area strongly
• “I need you to make me feel good in the way only you can”
• Tom would crave his teeth in your shoulder before starting to make a trail of kisses passing by your boobs, belly and the inner part of your thighs
• he’d insert two fingers inside you and lick your clit
• “Tell me how you’re feeling, darling. I wanna hear from your soft lips with your heavily voice”
• your mind would be a total disorder bc Tom would be teasing you
• “You’re driving me insane, Tom.”
• “But I barely did anything, baby.”
• “I know! But that’s what you do to me. You’re always let me so fucking wet”
• he wouldn’t lost time and soon he’d be stroking and curling his fingers inside you as he play with your clit with his tongue
• you’d be moaning his name and nonsenses
• he’d touch on that spot that make you scream
• and that’s what happens
• you’d scream his name arching your back and grabbing his hair with your fists
• he’d repeatedly hit the same place and you’d feel the familiar warmth under your bellybutton
• “Tom, your fingers do a better job than my owns. Fuck. I’m gonna cum”
• “Cum for me, love. Let me know how good I make you feel”
• and wouldn’t take long until your walls clench around his fingers and scream his name again
• he’d clean you up not leaving one single drop of your juice
• you’d be heavily breathing when he come back to be on the top of you
• “Did you liked, babygirl? Because I fucking love to feel your taste and to know that you were that wet to me”
• “Of course, Tommy. You’re always make me feel so good.”
• Tom’s dick would be throbbing against the inner part of your thigh and being able to feel that would make you moan softly
• that would push him to edge of his sanity and he’d just insert his cock at once inside you
• “Fuck, you’re so tight. It feels fucking amazing.”
• he’d start to thrust against you, slowly at first but becoming erratic as you moan and beg to him for more
• your nails you’d be running through his back and you’d be biting hid shoulder to repress yours whimpers
• when he hit that spot inside you again but this time with his thick dick you wouldn’t be able to do anything but roll your eyes in pleasure and archer your back
• “Oh my god, Tom. Right there. Shit. You’re incredible. Don’t stop.”
• you’d warp your legs around his waist pulling him closer and making him go deeper
• for the second time at that night a warmth would be formed under your belly advising you that you’re close
• with a few more thrusts you’d be done, clenching around his cock, but instead of scream,you’d whisper in his ear “I love you, Tom. So fucking much.”
• that would be enough to make him cum, the fingers roughly pressed against your hips and ass
• he’d lay down on your side and you’d start to play with his messy and soft hair
• “I love you too, love. To the moon and back”
• you’d let a soft kiss on his lips and he’d pull you to a hug
• “Tom, can I tell you another secret?”
• “I love to suck you and to feel your cum on my mouth”
• “Oh my god, Y/N”
Back at Watford, if someone had told me that one day I would be doing Simon Snow’s laundry while he just sits around, I would have laughed in their faces and asked what sort of enslavement spell he was planning on using against me. But as I sit here, folding Snow’s shirts into neat piles while he stares off into space, I begin to realize that he doesn’t need magick to get me to do what he wants.
“Baz,” he had said to me just a few hours earlier. “I’m rubbish at laundry. Will you help me?” He had flashed a huge grin and batted his stubby eyelashes at me, a signature Snow move when he wanted something, and I knew that I was completely helpless against it. He knows I’m completely helpless against it. Even without his magick, Snow could make me do anything if he tried hard enough.
It’s evening now, and the setting sun is filtering in through the windows. Snow is sitting at the other end of the sofa, surrounded by his messy piles of clothes. He only bothered folding two articles of clothing, then decided he was bored, and instead has been staring off at the windows while I work through the basket on the floor. I should be more irritated at him, but every time he closes his eyes and runs his hand through his hair, the sunspots that have made their way through the blinds dance across his arms and face, and he looks positively radiant. And I wonder how someone like him, with his boxy shoulders and his ruffled hair, could always be so angelic. So glowing. So beautiful. So—
“Snow, what the fuck are these?”
His eyes immediately leave the windows and dart over to my hands, as I reach into the laundry hamper and pull out the most atrocious pair of boxers I’ve ever seen. One half is red and the other blue, and they’re covered in various pictures of Spiderman in different poses. I almost laugh, and as Snow’s eyes widen, I do.
“Baz! Give me those!” Snow immediately launches himself across the couch to retrieve them, but the piles of clothes get in his way, and I hold the boxers above me, far out of his reach.
“Where did you get these?” I ask, still laughing. “They’re hideous.” He tries to grab my arm, but I hold onto his wrist with my free hand and hold the boxers off the side of the couch.
“Hand them over,” he says, turning his wrist out of my grasp. He tries to move towards me, but I push back on his shoulder.
“Did you have these when we were at Watford?”
“Shut it, Baz!” He says, trying to move away from my hand. But I hold onto him tightly.
“Crowley, Snow. So you’re telling me that every time you threatened me and my life with that bloody sword of yours, you were wearing these? Truly? The Chosen One, sporting around Spiderman underwear?” I start laughing again because it has to be one of the most absurd images that has ever come into my mind.
“Fuck you,” he says, swinging his shoulder out of my grip. He stands up and tries to walk over to the side of the couch, but I catch his legs with mine and wrap them around his, holding him in place.
“I don’t think so,” I say. I lean up and put the boxers behind me, between my back and the couch, and lean against them. “You’re not getting these back. I’m holding them hostage forever.”
“Baz, c’mon,” he whines, crossing his arms and locking his gaze with mine. Then in a quiet tone, he says, “those are my favorite.”
I laugh again and wrap my legs tighter around him. “That’s hilarious, Snow. But you’re still not getting them back.”
He furrows his eyebrows briefly, then tilts his head to the side. He flutters his eyelashes at me and grins. The signature Snow move.
“Please, Baz?” He asks, sweetly. “Can I have them back?”
I hesitate briefly but try to push down the need to give Snow what he wants.
“That’s not going to work on me this time,” I say. “You’re not getting these back.”
He furrows his eyebrows again, but he doesn’t frown. Instead, his lips curl upward into one of the most antagonistic smirks I’ve ever seen grace his perfect lips. He leans down, placing his hands against the back of the couch, on either side of my shoulders, and settles his face only inches from mine. He tilts his head to the side and smiles.
I narrow my eyes at him. “No.”
He leans in and kisses me. Once, then twice. And then a third time. I don’t kiss him back because I know his game; he’s trying to distract me. But then he kisses me a fourth time, biting my lip gently in the process. I try to stay focused, pushing my back against the couch, but then he kisses my jaw. Crowley. Once. Twice. And then again. And he’s trailing his mouth along it. And then he slides his hand into my hair and the other against my side. I lean my head back slightly. And he starts kissing down my neck, and along my throat. Then he bites me there, and I shudder. Crowley, I’m done for, I think. And then he suddenly starts kissing at the base of my neck, and then he moves along my collarbone, and then he—
“Hah!” He exclaims, startling me. I open my eyes that I hadn’t realized I had closed, and he’s now standing in front of me, waving the boxers around in the air.
“You’re too easy, Baz,” he says, smirking at me.
I cock an eyebrow at him, irritably.
“Fine, Snow,” I say, leaning up. “You win.”
He sticks his tongue out at me.
“But we’re not done yet,” I say.
“Wha—?” Before he can finish, I lean forward and grab him by the shirt collar.
keep your sprawling mansions,
heated bathroom floors,
voice activated HDMI theatres,
genetically bred completely
“organic” tan leather couches
your diamond encrusted
fine china dinner sets,
keep your five, ten, hundred
car fleet garages,
twin turbocharged domestics,
imported dual tip exhausts,
triple coated pearl paintjobs,
wood grain accents, HID headlamps,
look at me I’m awesome symbols,
sixty, seventy, eighty hour
have this done last Monday,
eat sleep breathe
die tailored suit, Windsor ties,
dinner at the desk,
corner office, citylight skyrise,
three, six, nine year bullet point
I don’t want a house,
I want a bathroom
with dried toothpaste,
soft thistled batman brushes,
report cards on the fridge,
I don’t want premium octane,
I want four doors and a hatch trunk,
songs on repeat that make me smile
in a rearview mirror to a backseat,
day trips to story albums
afternoon curbside pick ups
I don’t want a name plate,
I want enough zeroes
to put food on the table,
make every birthday and christmas,
toes that never peek from holes
time to teach wrong from right,
It was Valentine’s Day, 2007 when Jodi Arias received a package in the mail from Travis. On the stand Jodi recalled what Travis had sent. “
There were a variety of things … there were some chocolates … beneath that was a shirt … pink shorts [and] boys’ underwear. They were Spiderman underwear … I was confused … They were still in the package.“. According to Jodi, Travis wanted Jodi to wear the spider-man underwear while they had sex. This accusation, made by Jodi and the defense, was to further show that Travis had pedophilic urges and was using Jodi to fulfill those needs.
During Martinez’s closing statements, he said that there is no proof that the spider-man underwear even existed. Furthermore the pictures of the underwear with Travis’ name silk screened onto them were taken on July 12th 2008, almost a month after the murder. The pictures were found on Jodi’s camera by investigators.
Jodi also wrote Travis a lengthy Valentine’s Day email, which you can read below.