Naomifan29

[mondengel2]

found this here

What if the FGT didn't drain Ichigo's power, just knocked him out a bit? What if they thought he'd lose his power, maybe thought he HAD until he woke up because he was beyond their ability to feel, then they realized?

What if C46 got super nervous and demanded Ichigo be sealed with Aizen?

These two are cell-mates for two years. They talk, come to understandings and agreements and more, and then Yhwach struts in and neither of them are having it. At all.

Ichigo's restraints are quite a bit looser because the captains argued for leniency and have been on a mission to prove Ichigo's safe so they can release him, and Aizen can/had advised Ichigo how to loosen them further to free himself and he does and curb-stomps Yhwach while Aizen watches with mild interest, casually messing with Yhwach's sight to make Ichigo's fight easier.

The invasion halts, people come down, many thanks are given.

Ichigo's given the option of freedom because that proved him safe, but he's like: "I'll stay with my cancelled husband."

[fanfictions-i-cant-write]

This was a dream, so it's not entirely fleshed out or anything, but it's Probably time travel AU, where Aizen and Ichigo are married or in a relationship, and Ichigo decides to be a housewife/husband because he deserves a break!

So Ichigo calls Aizen during a Captain's meeting, and Aizen dutifully declines the call because he's in a captain meeting. Ichigo calls again and again and again, slowly driving everyone insane until Yamamoto allows Aizen to pick up the phone.

Now, Ichigo is incredibly good at breaking Aizen’s composure and forcing the truth out of him because otherwise, he probably wouldn't be in a relationship with the guy. So Aizen picks up the phone, and it pretty quickly becomes an argument which ends with Aizen saying to the effect of: fuck you.

Ichigo responds loud enough for all the Captains in the room to hear: Okay! Eight o'clock?

Aizen said, still sounding rather angry: sounds good.

Only after the phone is hung up Aizen remembers the twelve other Captains in this meeting looking vaguely disturbed.

[mybeautifulwifegojo]

Satoru becoming Instagram famous bc he keeps taking selfies with his Big Beefy Boyfriend Yuji and they're both pretty so ppl follow him for eye candy but every once in a while Satoru will post like, a blurry photo of Yuji cooking breakfast in a bathrobe and fuzzy pink flannel jammies and he looks exhausted but happy, and Satoru's caption will be a lil poem about how grateful he is to be alive because he gets to experience love and friendship and aging, when before he was convinced he'd die young and cold and alone, and most ppl relate to it in a "suicidal person who gets help" way, but no. no. Satoru is a sorcerer--semi-retired, but on track to join the council of elders. he is tired and damaged and DID almost die young, cold, alone

but Yuji didn't let him. because it wasn't right. and every so often Satoru remembers that and needs an hour or so to regain his composure. he never thought he'd have this. it's more than he ever dreamed possible. it hurts how grateful he is, that one teenage boy's conviction saved Satoru's life.

and now that boy is a grown man, a GOOD man, and in his kitchen and cooking for him and calling him 'babe' and smiling like Satoru is special and precious and lovable. and later they're going to go to work together, teaching scared children how to protect themselves and each other, and it'll feel like a dream but it will be real.

and in the meantime he documents his life, his love, so no one can ever doubt how proud he is of his Yuji.

[naomifan29]

Currently, complaint number 2:

Those of you who write Percy as a girl, please add the tag. I don't want to read this, which is precisely why I delete this tag,but it doesn't help much, because many of you simply don't know how to use tags.

Seriously, what's so difficult? Is it so hard to just tag correctly? You're incredibly clumsy.

If this continues, I'll have to make a tutorial teaching how to tag correctly, because this way it's impossible.

[naomifan29]

It's a sincere outburst.

The worst thing about the Perpollo ship is that it's supposed to be a BL, but there are so many female versions of Percy that, honestly, it already seems like a disguised heterosexual couple. What's the point of shipping them if, in the end, they only write heterosexual dynamics for them? It becomes inconsistent, it loses the original premise.

If the idea is to follow this path, then why not just embrace it and invest in other ships that already work within this logic, like Percabeth? At least there the narrative doesn't contradict its own essence.

It seems like you're just being homophobic about this. Apollo has been involved with men before—why is it a problem specifically with Percy?

And honestly, this "oh, but what about the children?" argument doesn't hold water. Apollo is a god. Human rules simply don't apply to him.

[neganskitten]

♡゙ cegan headcanons !!! nsfw !!! self-harm !!! au without the apocalypse (but negan is a asshole like he was in s7, where his wife died long ago and where carl has an overprotective father) </3 ; antis dni obviously !

1. size kink. definitely. negan loves comparing their hands, and simply comparing himself to carl. he takes great great pleasure in the fact that he's so much bigger than the boy and can essentially break him with one hand.

2. ftm!carl would have small breasts, but with kinda big pink nipples. If he was taking any antidepressants (having any mental disorder. carl is very bpd coded tbh) then one of the side effects would be milk secreted from his breasts. and yk... negan loves it. he loves carl's small breasts and his milk. carl is very uncomfortable when negan sucks on his breast, but he doesn't protest...

3. If carl were self-harming, negan would really enjoy it. ohhh, how he enjoys carl's blood, how he enjoys making cuts on his snow-white skin, watching the boy sigh and moans sweetly from pain and pleasure.

4. Their first time would have happened at negan's house, when carl asked his father for permission to spend the night with «enid». oh, it wasn't hurt, on the contrary, negan was quite sweet and gentle that night, afraid to harm his boy. negan cherished carl, he didn't want to hurt him. he kissed every cell of his body, from his face to his feet.

5. carl and negan often text late at night. carl really enjoys sexting, although he would never admit it. he's a little afraid that his father will catch him at night, because rick had very, very hateful feelings towards negan. he was also afraid that his little sister might come into his room and catch him doing such a dirty thing. carl hates it when negan calls him late at night but he still takes the call and listens to dirty things from negan. and damn, he gets so wet...

[prettyboy-parker]

starker; little red riding hood!au

Peter should listen to his Aunt more.

He should have listened to his Aunt when she said to go straight to town and straight back.

He should have listened to her when she said to buy the bread, and only the bread.

He should have listened to her when she said not to dilly dally.

And he definitely should have listened to her when she said to stay on the path.

But that butterfly was so pretty, and he just needed to follow it so he could look at it up close. And the field the butterfly landed in was the prettiest field, full of flowers and butterflies and bees.

It seems like a pretty good reason why he’s now lost in the woods, dusk steadily approaching.

Peter pulls his crimson riding cloak closer to his body, the chill of the approaching spring night washing over him. He doesn’t know if he should stay put or keep walking, but ultimately decides on walking for a little while longer.

There has to be some indicator that he’s close to his Aunt’s house.

As the sky continues to grow dark, Peter spots a light in the near distance. It seems like,

A fire?

Peter stumbles forward, a few sticks snapping under his black ballet flats as he hurries towards the light. He eventually  reaches a clearing in the woods where a small fire burns in the middle, next to an old tree stump.

The tree stump is occupied by a man.

“Excuse me, sir?” Peter squeaks, Aunt May’s number one rule ‘don’t talk to strangers’ pushed to the back of his mind.

Slowly, the man turns to face him.

Peter can’t see him all that well, due to the distance and low lighting.

“What are you doing out here, little boy?”

The man’s voice sends shivers down Peter’s spine. He clutches the handle of his wicker basket tighter.

“I went to town to buy some bread, but I was distracted by a butterfly, and I wandered from the path. I can’t find my way back home, you see.” Peter tells the stranger softly, cloak fluttering in the slight wind blowing through the clearing.

“Come here, boy.”

Peter shuffles over to the man cautiously, eventually sitting down on the stump. He places his basket on the ground and adjusts his skirt before finally looking at the stranger. His face is lit ominously by the flickering fire. He’s handsome, a cropped beard and deep lines adding to his rugged appearance. His sharp, yellow eyes give Peter the chills, seeming to glow in the low light. He’s dressed in quite the dapper attire, a deep maroon suit vest over a black dress shirt with black slacks.

“What is your name?” The man asks, yellow eyes boring into Peter’s deep brown ones.

“P-Peter.” He stutters, wiping his sweaty hands on the silk of his cloak, brushing against the lace details.

“Don’t be scared, Peter,” The man coos, doing anything but calming the young boy.

Peter gulps as the stranger raises his hand to stroke his cheek.

“I’m only here to help. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He mumbles, toying with one of Peter’s chestnut curls.

Peter nods.

“I-I live by the lake. Will you help me get there?” He stammers, voice barely a whisper.

The stranger grins, a wicked smile that spreads across his face, his pointed canines glinting.

“Anything for you, little red riding hood.”

[prettyboy-parker]

come with me and escape

words: 4k

warnings: cheating, underage drinking, fem!peter, daddy kink (always), semi degradation, unprotected sex

author’s note: happy summer! I’m feeling really summer-y right now, so this was the perfect way to get those vibes out! as with most dark/taboo themes that I write about, I do not condone cheating in real life. It is used as a plot device/conflict in the story. Happy reading!

listen to while reading:

Escape (The Piña Colada Song)- Rupert Holmes

Does Your Mother Know- ABBA

Santeria- Sublime

Doin’ Time (Cover)- Lana Del Rey

Tony has a hard time relaxing.

Pepper tells him this constantly. They’ll be sitting outside, sipping on some cucumber water, watching Morgan put on her own one-woman play, and Pepper will point out how hard he’s holding his glass. His dentist tells him that he grinds and clenches his teeth in his sleep, he’s getting sick more easily, and he’s lashing out at Pepper.

He assumes the stress is from work, since the launch of the new Stark Phone X is coming up. Or, it could be how his marriage is falling apart. He’s definitely fallen out of love with Pepper. She’s still his best friend, of course, but they don’t romantically love each other anymore. Tony would file for divorce, but his company would take a huge hit.

And he doesn’t want to do that to Morgan.

So, when Pepper announces that they’re taking a family trip to an all-inclusive resort somewhere in Bali, Tony knows he’s not going to be able to relax. He’ll most likely be worrying about his own work while worrying about Pepper’s work the entire time. Also, a 5 year old and a day long plane ride sound like a recipe for disaster.

Tony fully expects his stress levels to multiply by 10.

Tony was wrong.

When he stepped off that god-damned plane, it was like all his worries were brushed off of his shoulders. Pepper definitely looked happy, the salty Bali air raising her mood. Morgan was just ecstatic to be off the plane.

Pepper is in such a good mood that she actually is letting him drink.

“I’ll get a strawberry daiquiri,” Tony tells the bartender, a young woman with dark skin who looks a little too enthusiastic for her job. She hustles off to make the drink, when,

“Everything sucks. I can’t tan. I only burn.”

Continuar lendo

[starkerforlife6969]

Starker, Kitten Ears and New Kinks

Tony discovers the kink quite by accident.

And it surprises him. He’s into his 40s by now, and after an exhausting, highly-exciting and ever rambunctious set of adventures in his youth, he was certain he’d tried everything there was to try and found out everything he liked and didn’t like.

Ultimately, he found he liked Peter. Everything about him. His big eyes, his soft smile, his thoughtful everyday gestures and his impossible clumsiness.

Sure, there’s the age difference. Peter’s just twenty, but it’s not a problem. If anything, it means they have an endless amount to talk about. Peter keeps leading Tony into all the new, millennial subcultures, and Tony introduces Peter to fine wine and old treasures.

And the nights, god, Tony has a kink for that.

For the two of them, side by side, shoulders bumping down in the lab as the clock strikes three, nothing’s sexier.

Peter in Tony’s old MIT shirt, and nothing else, and Tony sweaty and focused, eyebrows furrowed as he pieces wires together-

the night typically ends with a breakthrough- and then victory sex on the desk- or against the wall, or the floor or-

So yeah, anyway. Tony thought he knew what he liked and didn’t like.

Until he walks into their bedroom one night, eager to cuddle up with his boy, to find Peter sitting crossed legged, perched on the expensive seat of the dresser, moisturising his face.

Not unusual.

What is unusual is the alice band he’s got on, a neat black frame with kitten ears.

It stops Tony in his tracks.

He can see what it’s for, of course. Peter’s hair is longer now, tumbling hickory curls that fall into his eyes. He hasn’t got in cut in ages, and Tony suspects it’s because he rather likes it when Tony fists his fingers into it and uses it to pull Peter back against him. Tony likes it too. A lot.

But fuck. The thought of Peter as his little kitten, that’s just…his blood is running hot.

“You okay, Tony?” Peter asks sweetly, skin glowing radiantly as he turns from the mirror. He’s a picture of beauty, tiny and gorgeous-

Tony can’t look away from the cat ears.

Peter’s in some of Tony’s boxers and an oversized sweater, he’s adorable, he’s perfect, but-

Tony can’t look away from the cat ears.

“Are those new?” He manages; voice a little hoarse.

Peter blinks at him slowly, not quite sure what he’s referring to. Tony makes an aborted motion to his head, and Peter beams. “Oh! These? No, I’ve had them for ages! Haven’t had to use them for a while, though, my hair’s not been long enough- do you like them?”

Tony likes them a lot.

Which is why, a while later, sweaty and sated and lying in bed, Peter still has them on his head.

“So,” Peter murmurs, surprised and pleased, nuzzling under Tony’s chin like a goddamn cat, “the ears, huh?”

“Yeah,” Tony breathes, his dick valiantly twitching, “the ears.”

But Peter is like Tony in nearly every way, so of course it doesn’t stop there.

And when Tony comes home to see his boy sprawled out on the bed in cat ears, a velvet collar, some stockings and a sleek, fluffy tail attached to a plug that’s buried deep into his hole- he just about loses it.

Peter squeals delightedly as Tony pretty much pins him to the mattress.

Afterwards, Peter sighs happily, and stretches- his neck is littered with hickies and Tony is defying the laws of his age because he could go again. He scratches Peter behind the ear and chuckles. “You look like you could purr.”

Peter rumbles in agreement. “I am the cat that got the cream,” he teases, licking his lips.

Tony groans, “you’ll be the death of me, kitten,”

But he doesn’t do anything to stop him when Peter straddles him, beautiful and cheeky. Instead, he settles his hands on his waist and looks up at him. “I think I like it,” Peter mumbles, a little shy, and Tony cocks an eyebrow curiously. “That this isn’t something you’ve done before,” he elaborates, “that it’s- a first. For us.”

Tony melts. He sits up a little, to cup his boy’s face and kiss him slowly. “Sweetheart,” he promises, “everything I do with you is a first. You make it different and better and special, and I love you.”

As red as a rose, Peter flushes, and takes Tony for the ride of his life.

[prettyboy-parker]

fucking hell I love thisss

[prettyboy-parker]

starker bingo square I3- ancient rome au

“You have a voice like an angel.”

Peter’s singing ceases and he whips around, face flushed pink in embarrassment.

“Anthony. You scared me.” The boy says softly. The water ripples around his feet that are dipped in the bath, kicking softly. Anthony strolls across the mosaic floor to where Peter sits.

“You’re clothed. I thought we were bathing?” Anthony teases, placing his hands on his bare hips. Peter rolls his eyes yet smiles lovingly.

“I was waiting for you. Help me get undressed.” Peter orders, standing up in front of Anthony. He starts to untie his toga and the older man goes to help him. Anthony chuckles at the boy’s intricate tying of the white cloth. Soon enough, the clothing is on the floor, leaving Peter bare in all his glory.

“We’d be scolded for leaving our garments on the floor in a public bath, Anthony.” Peter quips as he slips into the warm bathwater, sighing as water makes room for his delicate body.

“Well we’re in my private baths, are we not? I’d only have the best for meae deliciae.” Anthony tells Peter, stepping into the water after him. He groans as the warmth seeps into his sore muscles.

“Turn around, Anthony. Let me help you relax.” The younger coos, baby soft hands on Anthony’s broad shoulders, turning him around.

“Touch of an angel, too.” Anthony mutters as Peter kneads the spot right between his shoulder blades. He grunts when Peter hits a particularly sore spot. Peter turns to grab the nearby oil, but before he can continue his work a servant rushes into the baths.

“Caesar?”

Anthony sighs heavily yet turns to the servant.

“Yes?” He asks impatiently.

“There’s new information on the advances of Emperor Strange’s army. Your generals would like you to come quickly.”

The servant scurries away before Anthony can respond.

“Duty calls, bellula.”

Peter smiles sadly, but presses a kiss to his wet shoulder.

“Duty calls.”

***

meae deliciae - my darling

bellula - my little beauty

[prettyboy-parker]

Peter wakes with a start.

His vision is clouded a hazy white, and for a second he thinks he’s blind. He panics, heart rate rising as he desperately rubs at his eyes.

“Hey, you’re okay, it’s okay,” A voice says, a deep baritone that makes Peter’s insides feel all fuzzy. Strong hands push against his chest, forcing him to lay back down on the plush sheets he’s rested on. Slowly, his vision clears, and he’s able to see who’s in the room with him.

An older man sits at the side of his bed, creases on his forehead and around his brows from concern. His deep chocolate eyes are glazed with sympathy, strands of his greying brown locks stuck to the side of his face. He’s handsome, no doubt about it, and Peter can’t help but blush. This guy is a complete stranger, and he’s in a strange place he’s never even seen before.

“Where the hell am I?” He spits, trying to sit up again.

“You need to calm down, honey.” The man says softly, gently placing a calloused hand on Peter’s, thankfully, covered shoulder. He looks genuinely worried, but Peter can only focus on the daisy tucked behind his ear. “You were in a car accident.”

Peter’s eyes spring with tears.

“Harry, Harry-, oh my god,” He chokes, remembering that Harry was in the car with him.

“Peter, what are you talking about?” The man asks, holding the younger’s hand comfortingly.

Peter gapes at him.

“Harry, was- in the car with me? We were, going somewhere, and he-“ He sobs, a sharp pain in his abdomen.

“Peter, there was no one in the car with you.”

Peter shakes his head as the door opens.

“Father Stark? Is he- ah. Hello, Peter.” This new man says, dressed in white, as is Father Stark.

“Wait- like, Tony Stark?” Peter whispers, eyes wide. “The cult leader?”

Father Stark laughs loudly, rubbing his thumb over Peter’s wrist.

“That damned word-cult. I’d beg to differ on that one. But yes.”

Peter knows he should get the hell out of there. He’s watched enough videos at 2 in the morning about the First Breath Rehabilitation Camp. He’s read enough about Tony Stark to know he should run as far as he can.

But the man in front of him is warm and comforting.

“And you can call me Tony, sweet thing. Establish a little trust, hm?”

Peter swears his eyes flash an icy blue.

[prettyboy-parker]

lyn’s halloween bash 2019

starker: vampire king!tony x bitten!peter

warnings: blood sucking (lmao) and nff shit

Peter adores the garden.

He spends most of his time there, soaking up the autumn sun while he can. He usually brings out a book or his sketchbook, but today he just sits and looks. There’s a bench Anthony has just for him, metal with intricate designs of roses and thorns. He watches the bees go by, collecting pollen from the ink-black roses and blood-red poppies. There are a few bushes of special deep purple flowers native to Anthony’s home.

“My darling boy.”

Peter turns around, peering over his shoulder.

Anthony stands between the rows of flowers, black parasol over his head. He must have just gotten home because he’s still dressed in his charcoal suit.

“My king,” Peter purrs, accepting the kiss Anthony places on his painted lips. He trails his scarred hand down Peter’s neck, rubbing his thumb over the new bite mark.

“You’re beautiful,” Anthony whispers, sharp canines glinting in the sun. Peter smiles contently, resting his cheek on the older man’s chest. “My queen.”

Peter flushes, placing a gentle kiss to Anthony’s jaw. He adjusts the black lace adorning his wrist, exposing the pale skin underneath.

“Drink,” He says softly, bringing his wrist up to Anthony’s mouth. He chuckles, trying to push Peter’s arm away.

“I insist,” The younger pleads, letting his wrist rest against Anthony’s cold lips. “Because I love you.”

Peter whines as Anthony sinks his teeth into his skin, the sting of the wound making him grimace. Anthony drinks his fill, the sight of his mouth pressed to Peter’s wrist almost erotic. This will be the last time Anthony can feed off him, since only human blood is satisfactory. When he pulls away, his lips are stained red.

“Thank you,” He whispers, running his hands through Peter’s curls comfortingly. “I was thinking we could draw a bath? Virginia sent me salts from the ocean by our old village. Also, the chef is preparing lamb for tonight.”

Peter hums, content.

“That sounds lovely. But can he cook it softer than usual? My teeth hurt.”

Anthony laughs, peppering a kiss onto Peter’s neck.

“Of course, my piccolo pipistrello.”

Anthony helps him stand, pulling him into the shade of the parasol. His hand is cold against Peter’s paling skin. Anthony is incredibly handsome up close, the deep lines framing his mouth a forehead showing how old he truly is. His kind tend to see the effects of their age around five thousand years.

“Good afternoon Master Stark. Master Parker,” One of the maids, a petite greying woman named Edith, greets as they enter the back door. Peter smiles at her as she takes Anthony’s parasol.

He clutches Anthony’s arm the entire way up to the master bedroom, which is amusing to the older man.

“Here, let me.” Peter says softly when Anthony starts to undress himself. The man laughs as Peter undoes his tie with nimble fingers. Soon, Anthony is stripped naked, helping Peter out of his own dress. The expensive lace is in a puddle at his feet. Anthony rests his head on Peter’s bare shoulder, looking at them in the mirror.

“You’re a vision,” He purrs, playfully nipping at the lily white skin of Peter’s shoulder. The younger smiles, undoing the elaborate jeweled choker that rests on his neck. He’s already half hard with the way Anthony touches him, scarred hands moving up and down his body.

“Anthony,” Peter breathes as the other pulls down his black panties, exposing his already leaking cock. He leads Peter to the king bed, lying the boy on the blood red silk sheets. Anthony climbs on top of him, eyes flashing red in his lust. He captures Peter’s lips in a hungry, open-mouthed kiss. Peter moans, eagerly kissing back, clumsily grinding against Anthony.

“Hands and knees, bambino.” He orders, and Peter obeys. Anthony runs his palm over the swell of Peter’s ass, causing the younger to shiver under his touch. Peter moans loudly when he feels Anthony’s breath on his tight hole.

“Are you ready, my queen?”

“Always, my king.”

[prettyboy-parker]

“let me put on a show for you, daddy.”

(mafia au smut)

“Okay daddy, are you ready?”

Tony chuckles into the rim of his glass, raising his eyebrows in anticipation. Peter promised him a special surprise when he got home from a deal in the city.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” He shouts back, making himself heard to the boy who’s waiting in his walk-in closet. The door swings open and there’s his baby.

Peter’s in an intricate blood-red lingerie set, straps and lace and whatnot. He’s supporting a pretty predominant bulge from the anticipation. (Oh, to be young.) Sheer black-thigh-highs cover most of his long legs, tiny bows on the top of them and a garter belt attaching them to his waist. Tony wolf-whistles as the boy spins around, chestnut curls bouncing.

“How did I get so lucky?” Tony asks as Peter daintily lowers himself onto the older man’s lap.

“Because I tolerate you,” He sniffs, glossy lips pursed like the little brat he is. Tony’s hands encase Peter’s tiny waist that’s wrapped in black lace.

Continuar lendo

[prettyboy-parker]

Starker please and #9

im going to assume you meant the nsfw one 😏

who teases the other?

tony tends to tease peter more frequently, usually in public, mumbling absolute filth in the boy’s ear or letting his touches linger for a tad bit too long. sometimes, though, peter’s the tease. he either just wears skimpy outfits in public or sends slutty mirror pictures while tony’s in a meeting, there’s no in between.

who’s more impatient?

100% peter. tony’s used to drawing out foreplay, due to being *ahem* older, but peter’s like a fucking rabbit. he’s achingly hard within a span of 20 minutes, rutting against tony’s thigh as the older man just sits and sips on whatever alcohol is in his glass, barely half-hard.

who usually initiates?

tony. he’s more used to being dominant, and peter’s anything but. he’ll use anything as an excuse to get peter undressed and on his bed.

headcanon game 

[prettyboy-parker]

business trip

summary: tony’s away on a business trip and Peter sends him a special video

warnings: nff, daddy kink, feminization *** Tony’s phone dings at 1 in the morning.

He really shouldn’t be up, Peter would be on his ass about it, but he’s lonely and needed a drink after his long day.

His phone screen is too bright for his tired eyes, illuminating the dreary hotel room in artificial light. Peter 💕🍑 appears as a text message on his screen, a tiny preview of the video attachment in the corner. “A surprise for the morning ❤️” the text reads. Of course Peter thinks he’s asleep.

Continuar lendo

[prettyboy-parker]

an alpha’s rut

just some self-indulgent abo

warnings: nff, mentions of breeding, abo dynamics, detailed descriptions of sickness

words: 2.1k

🌸💕🌸

It starts with a headache.

A pounding, throbbing migraine that graces Tony’s left temple once he travels 5 floors down to his work office. It thrums in time with his heart, delivering sharp, shooting pains through his skull. He pops two Advil and picks up his paperwork.

Then it’s the fever.

His entire body heats up as he sits at his desk and tries to push himself through his work. Sweat drips down his back as he huffs and puffs and his limbs shake. Nevertheless, he pushes through, turning on the ceiling fan and putting on a smile that’s closer to a grimace.

Finally, it’s the vomit.

“Mr. Stark? Are you okay? You look a little pale.”

Continuar lendo

[prettyboy-parker]

Starker! 23, 6, 5

nicknames? pet names? any in-jokes?

for them, it’s more pet names than nicknames. baby, sweetheart, honey bun, sweet pea to name a few. pete and petey pie for peter, and tones for tony.

any tasks that are always left to one person? peter tends to leave the cooking to either the in house-chef or tony. tony makes the most delicious italian dishes, while peter usually burns the house down if he even thinks about the stove. but, they usually tag-team everything else.

how do they hug? kiss? tease? flirt? comfort?

their hugs are very grabby. tony likes to pick peter up mid-hug and swing him around 😊. their kisses are so so different all the time. they have the sweet, gentle kisses, where tony treats peter like he’s glass. but then there’s the needy, desperate kisses, where it’s mostly tongue and hair-pulling. as their relationship gets more serious and they’ve known each other for long, their flirting gets terrible. awful, pick-up lines ensue. for comfort, it’s lots of hugs and wiping away tears, which ends in slow, sensual love-making.

send me a ship + a number!