#if i write the starker one

[winterspiderpurrs]

The post was getting a little long BUT @illogicalkat and @smidnite are so amazing for this!

Previous posts from the last addition done here:

And cause I loved it.... imma add a little more :D

*********************************************************

Steve went to get Sarah; his mom on the phone. She was always a voice of reason with him. He was hopefully she could shed some positive light in this situation.

"-That child has known you practically his whole life. You're his papa. Doesn’t matter what some... DNA test says A leanbh. " her Irish accent became more prominent, the more she talked.

" But a man has a right to his child. I know it's going to be hard. And poor Peter! Having to face that man again! I woulda hit him!"

Steve coughed a little and rubbed the back of his neck.

" Well, uuhh.. no problem there."

" Steve Grant Rogers Barnes! That temper of yours is always getting you in trouble!"

" Ma!"

" Could be making the situation worse."

" I know, Ma, I know..."

Steve could hear her sigh on the other side of the phone.

" Well. Was it at least a good hit?"

Steve laughs and moves back toward the dining room where Peter and Matt are still at.

" Yeah, it was a -"

Clatter.

The phone slipped from Steve's hand as he stared at Peter.

~

While Steve had wondered off to speak to him mom, Bucky had gone back up stares to check on Harley and May after seeing that Tony had gotten in the car and was a long ways away from the house.

Peter gathered up the paper they had, scanning it over to Matt's office for him so he could review it again in Braille once he got it to his special machine.

" I uuhh... have another question since it's just us."

" Of course. What is it?"

Matt tilted his head toward Peter, sensing that he was nervous again.

" I umm read before that you cannot uhh get divorced if your... pregnant?"

Matt blinks.

" Oh,"

Peter nervously gathers the papers and puts the extra copies in Matt's briefcase for him.

" It's not his. Obviously, but umm, I just wanted to be sure."

Matt smiles and shakes his head.

" You're fine. The state of New York lets you. And as he has no rights to you anymore... you're safe. Congratulations."

Peter smiled in relief and pressed a hand to his stomach. Laughing a little.

" Yeah... I just found out last week. Was gonna wait a few more weeks. Before saying anything to Steve and Bucky. This one definitely was an oops surprise pregnancy."

Clatter.

Peter and Matt turn toward the door to see Steve standing there staring. Cell phone on the floor.

" You're pregnant?!?"

Meanwhile, upstairs, Harley is pacing his room. Why would THE Tony Stark be here? Was it for Dads metal arm that Mom helped create? Was it the scholarship program his school had?

Was he coming to expand his art collection with one of Papa's paintings? Mom had gone back to school and gotten his degree and had written a couple of papers. But would that be enough to get Tony Stark's attention?

He looks at the magazines cut out he had of Tony Stark from a few years ago when he was on the cover of Time magazine. Dad had bought it for him while they were in line at the store. He frowns a little. Now recalling the wide-eyed stare his Mom had when he came into the room and saw it the first time. He seemed oddly nervous when he asked where that came from and why he had it.

The look on Tony Stark's face downstairs, he seemed scared, nervous, and hopeful?

He pulled his laptop up and hesitated a moment. Then he started typing away.

' Young Tony Stark photos'

The more he looked, the bigger the pit in his stomach grew.

He felt like he was going to throw up.

Across town, Tony was once again looking through the paperwork and looked at the copy of the birth certificate.

Father spot was blank on it.

But when he saw the name on the certificate, he rushed towards the trash can and threw up. It all just became too much. Everything that he was robbed of. And how much at least at the time of Harley birth that Peter obviously cared for him deeply.

Harley Edwin Anthony Parker.

[peterstrk]

“When will you stop calling me Mr. Stark?”

“I don’t know… never? It is your name, yeah?”

“Uh-huh, I know it, but Pete, you know you can call me Tony, right? Or anything you want, for that matter. You have my permission, sweetheart.”

“Oh, Sweetheart, I like it! Anything I want, huh, Dr. Stark?”

“Ugh… I brought that on myself, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did. However, I have a question to ask you.”

“Sure, ask away.”

“Um, I know it sounds silly, but I can’t help but feel like you’ve lived all these moments with others too. And no, I don’t judge you or anything, but it’s just… everyone you’ve ever been with has had the privilege to call you by your name and just… ugh, what I’m trying to say is, I love you, Mr. Stark, I truly do. But I want to come up with something that would be only mine! And I’m rambling again, I’m sorry… Anyway, my question is, can you wait for me to do that, please?”

“Oh, Pete, I didn’t know you felt this way. I’m so sorry you’ve gone through so much distress because of it. But Pete, sweetheart, the love of my life, never, you hear me, never question yourself around me, okay? I can’t change my past actions, but I don’t even remember their names, honey. You are the one for me… all I can think about all day is you and just how much I love you.”

“It’s always Peter,” Tony whispered, looking deep into Peter’s eyes and leaving faint kisses across his face. Peter’s bright, relieved smile reassured Tony that everything would be alright.

“Thank you…I think I came up with something for just us. What do you think of Anthony?” Peter said teasingly, his voice laced with a hint of mischief. Tony’s eyes lit up with amusement. He was all too eager to hear his boyfriend call him that.

“I love it, Peter. Anything you want, sweetheart, anything you want,” he replied with a hint of amusement. If anyone who knew him saw him now, they could easily tell how fond he was of the young pretty man standing before him.

[monster-cock69]

Mob au where single parent peter gets in a relationship with mob boss Tony and when the feds finally have their case special agent barnes targets him first and then threatens to arrest him and throw the kid into foster care

[pastself]

“Forever,” Peter had promised, seventeen and in love. And full of shit.

--

No Longer Boyish (on ao3)

Peter Parker/Tony Stark | Words: 1,187 (the oneshot that actually was)

In which:

Peter lives long enough to understand how long forever is.

Relationships are a lot of work.

Tony engages in Extremis-aided slow-aging and that's somehow not the plot!

[rob1ndad]

irondad fic prompts/requests open!

hey guys! i’m going to take irondad fic prompts! you can dm me, comment under this post, or reblog etc etc :) if u want a one shot go ahead and comment ur ask! i’ll post it to my ao3

ao3: robindad

[3xamenace]

imagine being so good your fics are recommended, can't relate

[pleasetakethis]

Chain Reactions

Written for the Fluffity Fluff Exchange 2023 on AO3! Reveals went live a few days ago but I’m wrapped up in some other exchanges at the moment and didn’t get a chance to post this.

Pairing: Tony Stark/Peter Parker Rating: Explicit Word Count: 8.3k Tags: Marriage of Convenience, Las Vegas, Sex Pollen, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mutual Pining, Aged-Up Peter Parker, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Porn With Plot, Barebacking, Anal Sex  Summary: Fury sent Tony and Peter to Vegas to intercept a dangerous artifact. Tony's only denied his feelings toward Peter for years, while Peter interpreted Tony's behavior as rejection. What could possibly go wrong with a marriage of convenience and a casino vault break-in? Read @ AO3

[infinity-sansa]

I'm experiencing an intense whiplash from a story that was just supposed to be a random prompt for last year's @tropetember at first and I don't know how to feel about it. What was just a simple hero changed into a villain for the plot is suddenly becoming an A/B/O story? WTF myself. I didn't sign up for that. Why. What am I supposed to do with this information now.

[winterspiderpurrs]

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

Things are getting interesting @professional-benaddict

**TW: dubcon because of the influence of drugs**

🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶

Peter hesitated for a moment before quickly opening the bedroom door back up, hoping to catch Stephen before he left the main room.

" ah... umm Dr. Strange? "

Stephen was currently putting something away in the dresser draws. He locks it, slipping the key in his pocket before turning to face Peter.

" Yes, Peter?"

Biting his bottom lip, Peter glances around to make sure no one else is around.

" I... well. I don't remember much from yesterday. But well... I woke up and... maybe I have a rash on my... um. Butt"

Stephen blinks several times, his eyes roaming over Peter's form.

" A rash?"

He frowns a little. " I don't recall dogs or certain detergents being on your medical records." What he slipped Peter wouldn't have had that reaction. He walks closer and moves to the nightstand next to the bed, opening that draw to pull out some latex gloves.

" Well.. no I'm not but maybe rash isn't correct.. more like bruises and.. well honestly looks like someone bit me."

Stephen snaps the end of the gloves around his wrist, before moving his hand in twirling motion.

" Turn around and let me see. Just pull your briefs down a little for me"

Blushing a little, god this was so humiliating. Here he was having to expose himself to THE Dr. Strange. Though a wary feeling starts in his stomach, even more so when he turns around and moves his briefs, he starts to pull them down but felt that would be more vulnerable. He just moves the loose section up that way his front stays covered. A lot of the bruises were on the swell of his rear end right before it meets his leg.

Stephen 'hmms' before crouching down behind Peter looking at the bruises.

" Yeah I don't... I'm not sure how this happened but I know its not dog related and I..." Peter blinks before turning his head to look down at Stephen. " How do you know what I have on my medical records?"

At that moment, Stephen reaches up to brush the pad of his thumb along the bite marks, lightly squeezing the flesh near where he stuck the needle, no puffiness, the spot almost perfectly blended in the freckles he finds.

" Being Tony Stark's nurse isn't a job just for anyone. Being a nurse that I had to select you needed to be vetted. Can't have someone around that couldn't do the job"

Reaching to push up the other side of his briefs, he sees more markings, his eyes narrow a little, he moves his grip to slight spread Peter's cheeks apart, of course with the briefs bunched up, blocking his hole from being exposed. But Stephen knew he would find more 'bruises' there.

" You will be fine... I have some ointment you can use"

Stephen stands, he moves his hand to where he can hook one of his fingers around the edges of the briefs. Starting at the top where Peter's fingers are bunching the material to hold them up, down to the section that has scrunched up between his cheeks, he tugs the fabric out to recover Peter. Lots of unnecessary touching, not professional, is the word that pops up in Peter's mind.

" I didn't know you had freckles there"

Peter's mind roars with a loud sound, the blurry memories from the night before. The dogs, Steve being worried, the pain on his rear, sharp, the hands touching him.

" Lemme see.."

" could eat you up"

" kisses make everything better"

" fuck I can't wait to taste you"

" Such a good boy for me"

" god your delicious "

" fuck, why I promise Stephen he could have you first"

" god sweetheart"

" Just the tip, that okay? I'll just rub over it baby...Just need a little taste.."

" ... just look at it, just wants me in there"

" fuck just look at you"

"Tony!"

" God damnit Bucky! We will continue this later..."

" Out Now!"

" Jesus... wasn't doing nothin'"

" Don't look like nothing. "

" Why does everyone keep talking to me like I'm not the boss?"

Peter starts trembling, spinning around quickly to stare at Stephen. " I... you needle.. I... Tony, he bit.." he felt dizzy, a little nauseous.

Stephen takes the gloves off, tossing them onto the bin.

" Yes, I would recognize Tony's aftershave anywhere." He sighs and shakes his head, " He never did have the most patience"

Once again all Peter can think of, oh god what did I get myself into.

my part 22🖤

part 21 in the reblog by @winterspiderpurrs 😌😌

Peter wakes up with a slight headache. The pain intensifies when he sits up, but then eases off a bit. He rubs at his eyes, then looks around blearily. He’s in his own bed, the two Dobermans with him sleeping.

The young man fumbles for his phone, checking the time. Late morning? 11:20 to be exact, but furthermore, Peter has alerts on his phone that he hasn’t checked. 18 hours old? Usually Peter is very good at checking his phone and removing notifications, so for him to have this many is odd. Then again, Peter doesn’t remember how he got to bed and what happened before that.

A hint of fear sparks to life in Peter’s stomach. He tries to trace his steps, but the last thing he can remember is his grilled cheeses. But, that was lunchtime yesterday.

Peter shakes his head and scoots from his bed to stand up. While doing so, he feels sore on his ass. He tries to look, but the angle won’t allow him. He checks in the mirror of his bathroom, finding bruises on both his ass cheeks. And… teeth marks? Did the dogs bite him?

“What the hell?” Peter whispers in disbelief.

Upon closer inspection, Peter sees that the teeth marks don’t look like ones from a dog. Rather, the marks are in a half moon shape, short and flat marks with two punctures at the edges of the curve. Human… teeth?

There’s a knock at Peter’s bedroom door, and the nurse scrambles to pull his boxer briefs up and find a t-shirt. He manages to get dressed just in time for whoever entered to find him in the bathroom.

“Good morning. Or, good day.” Stephen smiles with a chuckle as he pushes the door open.

“H-hi…” Peter stutters, not knowing what to say.

“Did you sleep well? How’s your back?”

Peter forgot about his pulled back muscle, but when he tests it out, it feels better. A few more days and he will be back to normal.

“It’s all right.”

“Good.” Stephen smiles more brightly. “I let Tony out with Steve and Bucky for a walk, so you can enjoy a slow breakfast if you’d like.”

“Thanks.” Peter says, on reflex still since he cannot think of what else to say.

The doctor gives him a smile and nod of the head, and then leaves the room. The nurse is left speechless. When he looks at himself in the bathroom mirror, he can see that the bruises on his neck are starting to fade a lot.

But, new bruises have appeared, and Peter cannot remember how.

[stinglesswasp]

Hello, I read your recent mini comic... and I can’t understand how one of the phrases is translated "These tatties're pure boggin', I'd murder fer some proper tidy scran.." As I understand it, it’s not just English.. could you write this phrase in English?..

😂😂😂 I'm so sorry for the confusion, here it is in Actual English:

"These potatoes are absolutely disgusting, I'd murder for some nice tasty food.."

And a couple more translations in case others are mystified: "Good craic lads, I'm fair puckled" -> "I had a really good time lads, I'm exhausted" "Aye, got so blootered one Hogmanay I ran starkers through a buncha jaggies" -> "Yeah, I got so drunk one New Years Eve that I ran naked through a bunch of stinging nettles" (classic Soap) "You're off your trolley, mate" -> "You're insane, mate"

(Note: I just googled these slang phrases and it's not indicative of how I think these characters or British folks in general typically talk. Just having a wee bit of fun ☕)

[somewhatclear]

beating hearts

astarion/staeve | 500 words

Astarion swallowed one last time and pulled away, mindful not to rip more skin than he'd already injured, licking the wound to encourage clotting. He found Staeve smiling up woozily at him, his eyelids heavy and slow, his freckles and his scar starker against the pale complexion of the recently bloodless. “Oh, dear,” Astarion murmured, taking his chin between two fingers to pull him closer and to have a better look at his face. “You seem loopier than usual, love. Did I take too much?”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53434042

--

my friend jiiuu told me about this lovely headcanon of theirs about vampires having a heartbeat while they're feeding and i had to write this silly, fluffy thing while i struggled to sleep.

thank you @velnna for letting me play with staeve again.

[monster-cock69]

tony finding kid peter who was being experimented on after they raid a hydra base and taking him in but not really doing anything with him until one day peter decides to say fuck it and jumps his bones

[papermachemarvel]

*throws money on the table* gimme

Super unhinged idea, but a Starker Hazbin Hotel fic with Peter as Angel and Tony as Husk 👀

[thestarkerisobvious]

Starker

(okay I swear i started to write this out as a one-shot and what is it now???? This is JUST the first chapter. I hate you brain. Anyway enjoy.)

Tony’s mouth was warm and greedy and skillful and everywhere.  His hands on Peter’s ass gripped hard enough to leave bruises and he clung to Peter like a drowning man.  And Peter…

…Peter could hear the air conditioner.  He could hear the lights they had accidentally left on three rooms down.  The walls in Tony’s bedroom were getting too close again and if Peter didn’t call this to a halt he’d be smelling concrete dust again dammit…

Tenderly he pushed Tony away.  Tony went willingly, even if his face was full of disappointment.  Peter, however, was grinning.   He was grinning from ear to ear.  Even with the claustrophobia kicking in… that too-close too-much sensation that came when Tony’s body had been too heavy and too on him (but oh dammit he LOVED it when Tony’s body was on him) that would quickly make sex turn from Something Enjoyable into Something To Be Endured… even with the faint smell of concrete dust haunting his brain… still Peter grinned.

“Do we need a break?” Tony asked, sounding breathless.  He was used to Peter needing time-outs during sex, encouraged it even, but was confused by the happy look on his lover’s face.

Peter made a moaning noise that could have meant anything.  He didn’t WANT Tony to stop - didn’t want it at all.  But his spider-senses were overwhelmed whether he liked it or not. He still had his hands on Tony’s body, even as he kept his own body away.

“Want a drink?” Tony offered, and that was normal.  To stop in the middle of sex and do something else entirely - make a snack in the kitchen, have a discussion about which Avenger was the most obnoxious that week, or even go to the lab to tinker.  Completely naked, of course.  And, yes, sometimes those trips to the kitchen devolved into Peter being banged into the stove.  One memorable trip to the lab resulted in Peter being bent over a holotable and the holotable breaking.  Although the majority of their mid-sex breaks weren’t that expensive.

But that’s not what Peter wanted now.  Dammit, Tony had been making him feel so good just now.  Had been eating him up like a feast.  Like a man who had been starved to death in the desert.  Peter really, really didn’t want to stop.

They could have dealt with the Spider-Sense-Overload another way -  Tony was certainly always up for Peter riding his cock - but even that didn’t sound sufficient.

Which was why Peter stood up from the enormous bed and, taking Tony by the hand, coyishly led him out of the room.

“I think… I think I want you to do it to me on your sofa.”

[graceful-starker]

Tony the Friendly Ghost

Summary: Peter's house is haunted by a very friendly, very horny ghost.

Warnings: mild dub-con for a second there, Tony is a ghost, mild come inflation, mostly just an excuse to write ghost porn ngl.

Notes: Blame @the-mad-starker for this one, ngl lol. I might add more to this AU, but I wanted to get the first installment out on Halloween. Happy Halloween!

~~~

Peter isn’t crazy, okay? His apartment is just haunted. He doesn’t care that MJ rolls her eyes in disbelief or that Ned laughs at him for believing in ghosts. There’s definitely, 100%, for sure a ghost in his apartment. 

Peter winces as his ghost moves his couch loudly, the legs screeching horribly against the floor and thudding into the wall. “Okay, that’s really unnecessary!” Peter yells, walking into the living room and putting his hands on his hips. “I can’t afford to leave, you’re stuck with me, okay? You don’t have to rearrange all my furniture in protest.”

He doesn’t get a response; he isn’t sure his ghost even can. He’s never seen it, never heard it. He can only see what it does to his home. So far, at least. The couch is pulled back from the wall and slammed back into it again.

Peter sighs in annoyance, cocking his head to the side and staring at the couch. “Whatever, it looks better there anyway.”

The couch skirts across the floor, back to its original position, and Peter rolls his eyes as hard as he can. “Oh, fuck you. You’re just being annoying for the sake of it now.”

There’s no response, and Peter puffs out another sigh. “Stop rearranging my furniture, we’re going to get a noise complaint.”

There’s no response yet again, and Peter hums and turns to go back to his room. “Thank you,” he mumbles softly. He opens his door and gasps. “You asshole!” he yells, looking at his clothes flying out of his dresser. “Stop that!”

His ghost doesn’t, so he angrily grabs a towel and slams the bedroom door behind him to leave his ghost to their temper tantrum. 

He locks the door to the bathroom as if that will stop the ghost from coming in and turns the shower to be extra hot. He strips and puts his clothes in the hamper, grumbling to himself under his breath. 

He takes perhaps the angriest shower of his life, scrubbing furiously at his body and aggressively lathering his hair. “I should have known the rent was too good to be true,” he mumbles to himself, getting out of the shower and grabbing his towel. He’s calmed down a bit, has resigned himself to his fate of refolding all his clothes. 

He finishes drying off his hair and wraps it around his hips, looking up at the vanity. He blinks, cocking his head to the side. In big blocky letters, drawn out in the steam on his mirror, is TONY. 

“Tony?” he asks, and watches it be underlined. “Oh, your name is Tony,” he mumbles. “That’s a nice name.”

He doesn’t get a response, and Peter hums in thought. “I’m Peter,” he offers, feeling a bit silly. But Tony started it. “This doesn’t have to be a bad thing, you know. We can get along.”

YES appears on his mirror, and Peter smiles at it. “See? This’ll be great.”

~

Tony likes to talk to him, Peter has discovered. He likes leaving messages on the mirror whenever Peter showers, likes to ask questions and get Peter talking for long periods of time. 

It got to the point where Peter decided: why limit this? He buys three white boards, sticks them to the walls in his kitchen, livingroom, and bedroom. Tony is very happy with these purchases, and has a preference for the red marker. 

Peter has decided that Tony is an asshole, but he isn’t all that bad really. He’s kind of sweet too, and a good listener. He cares about Peter’s life, asks questions about it and encourages him to talk about it to Tony. 

As far as ghosts go, Peter is sure he’s lucked out. 

Peter laughs as he reads the question left for him in the bedroom, shaking his head fondly. “No, MJ isn’t my girlfriend. And she doesn’t even believe me when I tell her about you, she’s a real asshole like that. She’s not coming over any time soon.”

MJ IS NOT YOUR GIRLFRIEND?

“No, I don’t have one,” Peter says, shrugging. “I was dating Wade for a while, but we decided to just be friends instead.”

BOYFRIEND?

Peter frowns. “Oh, god, what time period are you from? I didn’t think to ask. People can do that now, it’s fine to be gay or whatever else now.”

NOT AN ISSUE.

“Oh, good,” Peter says, grinning at the board. “Because you’ve really grown on me, it would be a shame to find out my favorite ghost is homophobic.”

YOU KNOW OTHER GHOSTS?

Peter snorts, rolling his eyes fondly. He sits on the bed, crossing his legs. “Jealous?” There’s no response, and Peter giggles softly. “I don’t know any other ghosts, it was just a joke.”

I’M ALONE.

Peter frowns, taking in the words slowly. Tony must have been terribly lonely, before Peter came around. “Well, I’m here now. And you aren’t getting rid of me any time soon, we’ve already established this.” He tries to joke, but it sounds sad. 

It’s quiet for a long time after that, the marker hovering in the air as if Tony is holding it limp at his side. Then the marker is placed down, and the door to Peter’s room shuts. 

Peter sighs sadly, deciding to use the privacy while he has it; since Tony is invisible, he never knows for sure if he’s watching. He only knows if Tony does something like that; closes his door, or moves stuff around in another room. 

~

Peter hums to himself as he gets out of the shower, drying off and wrapping his towel around his waist. His toothbrush is knocked over, and he looks at the mirror with a frown. 

WHERE ARE YOU GOING?

“No where,” Peter says, turning and opening the door. “I just wanted to get clean.” He makes his way to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He opens a drawer in his dresser, before he looks over his shoulder at an insistent tapping noise. The marker is tapping against the whiteboard, and Peter sighs and walks over. 

NO PLANS?

“Nope,” Peter says, turning back around. “Let me get dressed, we can talk-hey!” 

Tony has ripped his towel away, throwing it across the room and leaving him naked. The marker is back on the white board, so Peter doesn’t know for certain where Tony is. 

“Asshole,” he mumbles starting to walk towards his towel again. “You don’t-hey!”

Tony’s never touched him before this; it’s a little unsettling. Everywhere Tony touches him is extremely cold, and it sends a rush of adrenaline through him. One hand is wrapped around Peter’s wrist, twisting his arm behind his back and the other is on Peter’s hip. He’s bent over the bed, and the position brings a blush to Peter’s face. 

“Hey!” Peter says, trying to wriggle free. “What are you doing? Let me go!”

Tony doesn’t. Instead, he moves his hand from Peter’s hip to his ass, petting at the flesh a couple times before spreading Peter’s cheeks apart. 

Peter gasps and shivers at the feeling, trying to close his legs. “Tony! What are you doing?!”

Tony’s leg must go in between his, kicking his feet apart. Peter gasps and shivers, his legs shaking. Tony’s finger pets over his hole, and Peter whimpers. 

“Tony, you can’t-you can’t! What are you-let me go, Tony!” Peter whines, trying to push off of the bed. Tony has never tried to hurt him before, not even when they weren’t talking yet and Tony was still trying to get rid of him. He’s more confused than scared. 

Tony pushes his knee in between Peter’s thighs again, pushing up until his own thigh is pressing against Peter’s cock and rubbing back and forth. 

Peter chokes and gasps, his hand clenching the sheets. “O-oh,” Peter chokes out, grinding down against Tony’s thigh. It feels so fucking wierd, so very cold but still so very good at the same time. Tony’s thigh rubs against him for a few minutes, and Peter continues to grind against it until he’s fully hard.

Tony pushes his finger in to the first knuckle, and Peter gasps. “Wait, don’t-oh god, oh,” Peter groans and pushes back into it, his cock leaking on Tony’s thigh. He can feel Tony’s cock hardening against his hip, and it’s so weird. This is so weird, he can’t even see Tony and Tony is about to-

Tony’s finger pushes deeper, and Peter whimpers. He can’t decide if he’s scared or not, can’t decide if he wants Tony to stop. He wants to tell Tony to wait, at least, to use lube. But then he realizes-

There is no friction. His hole is just stretching around nothing, there’s nothing really there. 

“Oh, fuck,” Peter gasps, hanging his head and arching his back. “Oh, please, more. Tony, please.” 

Tony pulls his finger out and Peter whines, but then he’s pushing two in. Peter’s head throws back, and he gasps loudly. Tony’s fingers start moving in and out of him quickly, already scissoring him apart. 

Peter wonders if Tony can see himself, or there’s nothing there for him as well. If he just has a view of Peter’s hole being stretched around nothing, or if it looks normal for him. “Oh, fuck, Tony. Please Tony, please, more, I need-oh fuck, please!”

Tony lets go of his wrist for the first time since this started, pulling his fingers out abruptly. Peter whines at the loss, scared that Tony’s going to leave now. He worries himself for nothing; Tony simply picks him up and turns him around, and Peter lands on his back halfway up the bed. 

He doesn’t like this position as much; he can see that no one is there. It’s freaking him out, making him think too much. “Tony,” he chokes, chest heaving. He gets up on his elbows, digging his heels into the bed.

Invisible hands push his thighs far apart, and Tony’s cock presses bluntly against Peter’s hole. It pushes and pushes, until it slips past and slides up Peter’s balls. 

Peter gasps loudly, closing his eyes and throwing his head back. It feels so weird but so good, and if he closes his eyes he can just pretend it’s fine. “Oh, fuck, Tony. Please, please fuck me, please get inside me, I want-oh my god!”

Tony had pulled his cock back to try again, pressing insistantly until the head finally popped past Peter’s rim. 

Peter’s mouth falls open, and he has to fist the sheets to stop himself from screaming. It feels so fucking good inside of him, so incredibly strange but in a pleasant way. “Oh, fuck,” Peter gasps, sucking in a desperate breath. 

Tony starts to slowly push forward, and forward and forward until Peter feels like he can feel it in the back of his fucking throat. 

“Oh god, Tony, oh fuck, how fucking big are you?” He can’t see it, can’t know how much there is left to go. “Oh, stop, it won’t fit!” Peter cries. 

Tony doesn’t listen, continues pushing in until his hips finally slap into Peter’s ass with an audible slap. 

Peter groans loudly, his legs shaking, his chest heaving. “Oh god, Tony,” he gasps, opening his eyes and regretting it immediately. There’s no one there, there’s no body attached to the cock currently splitting him in half, no hands keeping his thighs apart. He’s just being filled up by nothing, his stomach is protruding with a cock that isn’t there. 

Tony starts to slowly pull back out, and Peter watches in fascination as Tony’s head visibly moves down his torso. “Oh,” Peter moans.

Tony only pulls halfway out before pushing back in, his hips slapping hard against Peter’s. 

“Oh, fuck,” Peter gasps, throwing his head back again as Tony sets up a brutal pace. He feels like he might actuall die, like Tony is actively fucking him to death. He’s so fucking big, and the pace is brutal, and he’s fucking Peter so hard he’s being pushed up the bed.

Tony’s left hand leaves his thigh, after moving Peter’s leg around to grip around his waist. Instead it presses down harshly against Peter’s stomach where his head reaches when he goes as deep as possible. 

Peter moans, almost screams, watching his torso with dark eyes. It’s the only visible proof he has, the only thing proving that he isn’t batshit crazy. He’s being fucked by a ghost; a ghost hung like a horse besides. “Tony!”

Tony somehow speeds up, slapping his hips so hard against Peter’s that it hurts, and he knows he’s going to be feeling this for days. 

“Please,” Peter moans, moving one hand to wrap around his cock. “Oh god, please, I want it. Please! Please Tony, please come inside me, I want it so bad!”

Tony’s right hand tightens on his thigh, enough that the skin goes white and he’s sure it’s going to leave a mark. His hips stutter, and he fucks into Peter a few more times before burying himself balls deep and grinding there. 

It feels so fucking weird. It’s still cold, but it’s definetly real and wet inside of him. Peter’s eyes go lidded and he strokes himself quickly, enjoying the feeling of being stretched, of how deep Tony is, of being filled up.

Peter almost doesn’t notice at first, but Tony hasn’t stopped grinding into him and filling up for longer than a human would have. His eyes widen as it hits him, his hand stilling on his cock. “Oh, god, Tony?” 

Tony pulls half out and slaps his hips back in, grinding again. The hand on Peter’s stomach leaves to start stroking Peter instead. 

Peter’s stomach starts to distend, and his jaw drops as he realizes just how much Tony is filling him up. “Oh, fuck, Tony! Tony, it’s too much!” 

Tony speeds his hand up on Peter’s cock, and Peter whines loudly. He finishes to the strange feelings, hands gripping the sheets desperately and head thrown back. He comes so hard that it hits his chin, and Tony wrings every last drop out of him. 

Peter pants heavily once it’s over, groaning at the sight of his come painting Tony’s fist white. He can kind of see it now, see the outline. He already knew from the way they felt inside of him, but Tony’s fingers are thick. 

He’s still buried to the hilt inside of Peter, and Peter whines as his stomach continues to grow. He feels some being fucked out of him as Tony grinds, and he’s so overstimulated at this point. “Tony, ‘s too much!”

Tony finally finishes filling Peter up minutes later, when Peter’s stomach is pudged and he looks like he has a small baby bump. Oh, and isn’t that a new idea? He grinds into Peter once more, keeping him plugged up apparently. He really wishes that Tony could talk to him.

“I’m too full,” Peter complains, nudging at Tony’s torso with his knee. “Get out of me.”

Tony pets at Peter’s stomach, and maybe he’s just as turned on by the sight as Peter is. Peter’s spent sock twitches, but it’s way too soon for him to go again. 

“Tony,” Peter whines, clenching around him. “Out.”

Tony hesitates once more, but finally pulls out slowly. He leaves his head insides, teasing Peter’s rim with the widest part.

Peter moans at the feeling, before whimpering again. “Tony, please, it’s too much!”

Tony finally takes mercy on him, popping his head out but keeping Peter’s thighs spread open. 

Peter whimpers, face red with embarrassment, knowing that Tony is staring at his hole. He wonders what it looks like right now; wonders how much of Tony’s come is leaking out of him, how gaped open he is. 

He reaches around himself, ignoring Tony squeezing his thighs, and stuffs a few fingers into himself. Tony squeezes tighter, before finally letting him go. 

Peter pulls his fingers out, eyes lighting up when he realizes he can see Tony’s come on his fingers. Physical proof of what Tony did to him. 

He clenches around nothing, winces when he feels some more of Tony’s come slide out of him and onto the bed. “Fuck, Tony,” he whispers, bringing his fingers to his mouth and licking curiously. It tastes about the same as normal, it’s just cold. A little gross. 

Peter pulls his fingers away and gasps when Tony’s hand cups his cheeks, and he thnks Tony is kissing him because his lips are cold. He tries to kiss back, closes his eyes so he doesn’t feel like he’s kissing air. It’s much easier when his eyes are closed for his mind to accept this. 

Tony finally pulls away, and Peter falls back on the bed with a final pant. “Fuck,” he whispers to the room. 

Peter looks when at the tapping noise against the board, snorting when he sees it. “Now you ask?” he snarks, rolling his eyes. 

CAN WE DO THAT AGAIN? Stays on his board, unerased, even the next time they do this.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

The choice for president has seldom been starker. On one side is Donald Trump, a felonious and twice-impeached conman, raring to finish off the job of dismantling American democracy. On the other is Kamala Harris, a capable and experienced leader who stands for traditional democratic principles. Nevertheless – and shockingly – the Los Angeles Times and the Washington Post have decided to sit this one out. Both major news organizations, each owned by a billionaire, announced this week that their editorial boards would not make a presidential endorsement, despite their decades-long traditions of doing so. There’s no other way to see this other than as an appalling display of cowardice and a dereliction of their public duty. At the Los Angeles Times, the decision rests clearly with Patrick Soon-Shiong, who bought the ailing paper in 2018, raising great hopes of a resurgence there. At the Post (where I was the media columnist from 2016 to 2022), the editorial page editor David Shipley said he owned the decision, but it clearly came from above – specifically from the publisher, Will Lewis, the veteran of Rupert Murdoch’s media properties, hand-picked last year by the paper’s owner, Jeff Bezos. Was Bezos himself the author of this abhorrent decision? Maybe not, but it could not have come as a surprise. All of this may look like nonpartisan neutrality, or be intended to, but it’s far from that. For one thing, it’s a shameful smackdown of both papers’ reporting and opinion-writing staffs who have done important work exposing Trump’s dangers for many years. It’s also a strong statement of preference. The papers’ leaders have made it clear that they either want Trump (who is, after all, a boon to large personal fortunes) or that they don’t wish to risk the ex-president’s wrath and retribution if he wins. If the latter was a factor, it’s based on a shortsighted judgment, since Trump has been a hazard to press rights and would only be emboldened in a second term. [...] Some news organizations upheld their duty and remained true to their mission. The New York Times endorsed Harris last month, calling her “the only patriotic choice for president”, and writing that Trump “has proved himself morally unfit for an office that asks its occupant to put the good of the nation above self-interest”. The Guardian, too, strongly endorsed Harris, saying she would “unlock democracy’s potential, not give in to its flaws”, and calling Trump a “transactional and corrupting politician”.

Margaret Sullivan at The Guardian on the cowardly abdication of the Washington Post and Los Angeles Times by refusing to endorse a Presidential candidate (10.25.2024).

The egregious and cowardly actions done by both the Washington Post and Los Angeles Times deciding to sit out the Presidential endorsements process this election is craven and cowardly, as both papers were set to endorse Kamala Harris (D). Even the New York Times, for all their faults, got it right by endorsing Kamala Harris.