#starker: morning after

[sodamnradd]

“I dare you to kiss Hermione,” said Ginny, grinning conspiratorially in her friend’s direction.

Hermione turned her attention to Malfoy, her stomach fluttering in anxious anticipation. But then she noticed the obvious discomfort on his face and her excitement fizzled. Weeks of studying together, late-night lab sessions—their prize-winning Potions project!—and he couldn’t even stomach the thought of one measly little kiss?

The common room fell silent when Malfoy didn’t budge. A dozen seventh and eighth-years sat around an empty Firewhisky bottle, its neck pointed in Malfoy’s direction like an accusation.

She wished the ground would swallow her whole.

Seconds later, Theo re-entered the room, donning a Slytherin jumper and a lumpy knit scarf, cheeks red after flying a lap around the castle starkers to fulfill his dare.

He looked around, confused. “What’s up?”

Hermione felt a sharp stab of betrayal seeing Theo in the scarf she’d knit Malfoy for Christmas. It wasn’t the cashmere or spider silk fabric he was used to, but Malfoy had seemed genuinely touched by the gesture, immediately replacing his Slytherin scarf with the one Hermione had made for him. In turn, Malfoy had tied his Slytherin scarf around her neck, stepping back to admire her with an affectionate look. The scarf had smelled like him, so naturally Hermione had kept it on all day. Even inside.

And now here was her gift, draped haphazardly around Theo’s neck like he’d grabbed the first thing he’d found on the floor to warm himself up. Message received.

Glaring daggers in Malfoy’s direction, Ginny replied coldly, “Nothing. Malfoy just thinks he’s too good to kiss Hermione on a dare.”

“Oh?” Theo eyed his best mate curiously.

Malfoy opened his mouth to reply, but then his gaze flicked down to Theo’s neck and whatever he’d wanted to say died on his lips as his eyes narrowed.

“I’ll kiss her.” Theo walked up to Hermione and cupped her cheeks. His hands were like slabs of ice, and she shivered, but then his lips, cold and hard, met hers and approximately five seconds later it was over and Hermione felt like crying.

The room seemed to heave a sigh of relief as Theo settled at the foot of Hermione’s armchair and spun the bottle again.

Hermione jumped off her seat and bolted for the dorms, not slowing even as footsteps followed her up the stairs.

“Granger, wait!”

“I just want to be alone right now,” she cried, nearly at her bedroom door.

A hand grabbed her arm.

She glanced down at his pale knuckles and the expanse of blond hair that disappeared beneath a bunched-up sleeve. She recalled the way he'd trembled when she’d traced the protruding veins of his forearm last week, waiting for their potion to boil. His gaze following her touch intricately.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked quickly.

She yanked her arm back, refusing to meet his eyes. “I’m humiliated. You made it seem like I was diseased!”

He made a painstaking groan. “I just didn’t want to kiss you like that. In front of everyone.”

“Right. Heavens forbid they catch you snogging a Mudblood.”

“No.” He shook his head. “It’s not that. Not at all.”

“What is it then?” She looked up, catching the familiar warmth in his eyes when he looked at her. Even mid-argument they held that affectionate sparkle. Seeing her.

He stepped back, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It’s just that—when I kiss you, I want you to know it’s because I’ve thought of nothing else for weeks.”

Her mind snagged on how he’d said ‘when’ and not ‘if’.

Smiling nervously, he touched her hand, stroking his thumb over the swell of her palm. Because of course, on top of his boyish good looks, astute ambition, and effortless sense of humour, the boy had to be sentimental, too. Gods.

He tugged her forward until their legs touched, eyes never leaving her face.

Heart hammering against her ribcage, Hermione lifted her head as Draco descended.

-

The next morning, he was waiting for her at the foot of the dormitory stairs. His scarf twisted delicately around his neck and tucked into his coat. When she reached the last step, he captured her chin between his fingers and kissed her with breathtaking confidence.

A stunned silence filled the common room as everyone watched Hermione and Draco leave together, their hands firmly intertwined.

(736 words, loosely inspired by a scene from 'Every Summer After' by Carley Fortune)

p.s. hi i missed writing dramione ficlets so here we are.

[secfics]

my favourite starker fics, part 2

hi. for my second reclist in this blog, i put together more starker fanfics that i’ve been discovering lately and have made their way into my personal list of favourites that i re-read again and again. in no particular order and with some cw/dark themes here and there, here they come:

• pete’s eats; by bloodgutsandstarbucks (ao3) aka @darker-soft-starker, Teen and Up, 9’3k, oneshot

Peter having a YouTube channel where he just drinks wine and teaches people how to cook things if they live in a mediocre apartment. While cooking and drinking he just talks about stuff like memes and school and, most importantly, his undying thirst for Tony Stark.

• naturally; by ursafootprints (ao3) aka @ursafootprints, E, 16’3k, 3/3 chapters

"Mr. Stark," Peter whispered for the third time, his voice now airless where it had previously been rough from sleep. "Are you okay?"

Mr. Stark's thumb was slowly tracing back and forth over Peter's temple, but it stopped its trek as he finally took a deep breath, the first sign that he was really hearing what Peter was asking.

Voice rough with something other than sleep, Mr. Stark said, "No," and leaned in to kiss him.

Or: Unbeknownst to Peter, Tony gets dosed with sex pollen (sex serum?) on a mission, so he's nothing but thrilled when all his wet dreams about Mr. Stark suddenly start coming true-- until the morning after.

this app won’t let me add links to all of the titles for no reason so i’ll add extra links after the summary of the ones i wasn’t able to, here is the link:

• you’re not yet done; by ursafootprints (ao3) aka @ursafootprints, E, 166’7k, 14/14 chapters - cw: rape, bad guys made them do it

Tony didn't know what it would do to either of them, to play this out like a shadow cast by the real thing, real love and sex and intimacy. But it was what Peter was asking him for, so he did it.

In the aftermath of a traumatic abduction by a villain, Tony and Peter have to cope with their not-entirely-in-sync coping mechanisms, concerned family and friends, figuring out who exactly really arranged the whole thing, and their evolving feelings for each other.

link:

• the leash; by downjune, M, 30’2k, 2/2 chapters

Peter didn’t know if they talked to anyone else who carried them, but when he had the Infinity Gauntlet tucked under his arm, he could swear the stones were trying to…commune with him. They wanted something from him. Wanted to be used. He wanted to be rid of them.

Until he found Tony Stark leaned against some torn up tree roots and rock. He found Tony dying.

At that point, Peter was ready to bargain.

• velvet elvis; by orphan_account, M, 45’7k, 7/7 chapters

Peter just wants Tony to feel comfortable in Peter's new home. That's it. He totally has no ulterior motives whatsoever. Nope.

link:

• practical results; by anonymous aka ‘is this thing (an)on?’ tag, M, 81’4k, 12/12 chapters - cw: dubious consent/bad guys made them do it

This isn’t his bedroom - not the one at the compound, or the suite in Milan. Definitely not the penthouse in New York. In all honesty, it looks like the inside of the fucking Spaceship Earth ride at Epcot.

“Kid,” he tries again, more urgently now, “where the hell are we?”

“Uhh, the guy said we’re someplace called Sakaar.”

“The guy? What guy?”

Let's say that after the uprising on Sakaar, the Grandmaster manages to cling to power by offering people an even better form of entertainment than the Contest of Champions: Porn. He offers them porn.

• rebuild; by tuesday (ao3) aka @everysecondtuesday, Teen and Up, 14’7k, oneshot

Tony lives, falls in love despite himself, and spends entirely too much time in California.

• in the hands of gods; by therogueheart (ao3) aka @therogueheart, E, 20’2k, oneshot

Peter has known nothing but the God Stark his entire life. The blessings he gives; and the cruelty he can deal. When Peter comes of age he must begin the next phase of his worship to the God - Sexuality.

But Peter has never been good at following rules, and he does the one thing that no man is permitted to do.

He touches.

link:

• expiration date; by learnedfoot (ao3) aka @learned-foot, E, 12k, oneshot

Tony knows exactly what this is. First big breakup, go for a fling with a completely inappropriate person. It’s basically a cliché. He kind of thought Peter was better than that, but apparently being brilliant and one of the bravest people on the face of the planet doesn’t mean he’s immune from being a stupid college student who makes stupid college student mistakes.

AKA Tony is sure this is just a fling, and he deals with that about as well as you’d expect.

link:

• the last five years; by orphan_account, M, 71’1k, 9/9 chapters

Tony Stark has spent the last six months trying to find a way to bring back those lost in The Snap, but when he succeeds and Peter Parker and the rest of the lost Avengers return he discovers that it has been a little bit longer for them.

• prototype protocol; by roamingsignals (ao3) aka @spider-mancan, E, 82’8k, 8/8 chapters

Tony Stark isn't good, despite years of trying. When the multiverse dumps a younger Tony into their laps, Tony is split between solving the problem and protecting Peter's virtue.

“Don’t worry about it, Mr. Stark.” Peter’s eyes are wide and unassuming and Tony is a bad man. “I’ve been handling you for years. I can handle him just fine.”

“I’m sure you can,” Tony's throat is really dry, for some reason. “I trust you.”

He just doesn’t trust himself. He doesn’t trust himself at all.

link:

• the friendly neighborhood; by postelectric, M, 22’9k, oneshot

“Mr. Stark?”

Before Tony looks, he hopes to every god whose hand he’s shaken that he’ll meet an uncanny Parkeresque-but-definitely-not-the-real-Peter Parker doppelganger who just happens to know who he is. That’s what he tells himself, anyway. It’s not impossible. Tony saved the universe. Most people know him, even with the giant face scar. Maybe because of the giant face scar.

It’s the real Peter Parker. He’s barely taller than he was at sixteen and he has pretty much the same amount of hair, but he’s got more in the shoulders and jawline these days. “Mr. Parker. You grew up.”

“Yeah,” Peter says. “That, uh, that happens sometimes, if you’re lucky.”

“You got lucky.”

(or, in which the friendly neighborhood spider-man from queens doesn't become an avenger and doesn't turn to dust. or, in which tony stark restores the universe for pepper potts and then lives to tell about it, which is not according to plan.)

link:

• permission; by cagestark (ao3) aka @cagestark, E, 15’8k, 5/5 chapters

During drinks with the Avengers, Peter admits that he enjoys orgasms more when someone is giving him permission, though since he's single, there isn't anyone in his life to offer it.

Generous Tony offers to offer it.

link:

hope you like them as much as i did!

[the-mad-starker]

Starkercest Smut: Quick Tips For Satisfying An Alpha (1/3)

For TSToT and Starker Battleship!!

Figured I'd post this in and I'ma try to finish chapter 2 so I can attack Spidey team over at @starker-battleship !! Not gonna reveal my prompts just yet but they're very typical of me haha 😮

Notes: Omegaverse, starkercest, alpha tony, omega Peter, intersex Omegas, Size Kink, ambiguous age but underaged, tags to be updated

Rating: E

WC: 2606 (AO3 Link)

💗💗💗

When Peter Stark walked into Omega Ed., he wasn't sure what to expect but it surely hadn't been this.

The sex ed class for omegas that he'd been required to attend was just so dry. He hadn't had any real expectations though. If anything, he thought he'd end up leaving with a bright red face because learning about those things with his peers just seemed… embarrassing?

But no. Whatever Peter had expected, it was worse because it was boring. The omega instructor was a stickler for facts, which, yeah, those were super important, but Peter wanted to know stuff beyond what he could find in textbooks.

For the first week, they had to study the anatomy of all sub-genders. Peter learned a lot, for sure. He learned just how knotting happened, how female alphas’ pensies were different from males, and that male omegas had two internal erogenous spots compared to female omegas who only had one. That kind of information was an eye opener, but even then, it was all… very scientific and therefore, not at all what he thought sex ed would be like.

He'd been raised by a very sex-positive parent so it wasn't surprising that Peter had questions. Unfortunately, Peter realized pretty early on that what he had wanted from the class was guidance and a more real life approach than the in-depth diagrams and plastic models that his instructor showed them.

Like Peter now knew about the prostate and g-spot for omegas, but how do you stimulate them? What did that even feel like? He read somewhere that prostate stimulation for some males was uncomfortable but was that across all males? Or were omegas an exception? Or maybe just alphas? Beta males?

He had so many questions but the instructor didn't seem inclined to answer them. It was always a gentle but firm decision to turn back to the books and a dismissive answer that wasn't an answer at all.

It was great, then, that Peter had such an accommodating parent. His dad had never held back on giving him the truth, at least not since he was maybe five years old and had accidentally tugged Santa’s beard off only to be met with his dad’s chagrined face.

His dad wouldn't sugarcoat things for him and he’d finally get the answers he wanted.

Peter set his plan into motion on a nice Saturday morning. The freshly ground coffee beans were brewing and just as expected, the smell of it lured his alpha father out of his room.

Peter watched as his dad went straight for the coffee pot, eyes assessing the alpha over the rim of his cup of orange juice.

His father was the epitome of what an alpha should be, Peter recalled all the social media claiming. His classmates often teased him for having a hunk of an alpha as a father. Add to the fact that his dad was also single… and his father didn't discriminate between genders… and he was rich and handsome…

Peter frowned and took a sip of his OJ.

He tried to look at his dad like his classmates did. Look beyond his quirky lovable father to see the alpha that teens his age drooled after.

Surprisingly, it wasn't hard because as he already acknowledged… His dad really was the perfect alpha.

Alpha genes really were something. Alphas were just naturally taller, broader, and stronger. Put an alpha next to an omega, and these physical attributes were even more exaggerated. Alphas had a more muscular physique compared to an omega’s softer, leaner body.

And that was just the genes influencing an alpha. Of course, like any normal person, if they didn't take advantage of it, an alpha can squander those built in boosts and end up as unhealthy as any other. Not even superior alpha genes could help someone if they didn't take care of themselves.

But Tony Stark didn't have that problem. Peter’s gaze lingered over his lightly muscled arms, his broad shoulders, and the defined muscles of his back through his thin white undershirt. His dad, courtesy of Peter’s insistence, ate healthy and, despite his grumbling, worked out regularly.

“Morning, kid,” his dad's voice rumbled, rough from sleep. It sent something foreign but exciting shooting through Peter's body.

He stood up, setting his OJ aside, and like many sleepy mornings before, he hugged his dad from behind as Tony readied his coffee.

With his face pressed against his dad’s back, Peter breathed in the comforting scent of his alpha. This close, he could smell his own scent mixed in, and before he knew it, a purr rumbled in his chest.

His dad had never been able to resist Peter’s purring and it said a lot that his attention immediately went from his precious coffee to his even more precious son.

Tony turned and gathered Peter in his arms and the omega melted right into his embrace.

As a male omega, Peter stood at a respectable 5’7 height, but in his daddy’s arms, he felt so small and precious. He rested his cheek on his dad’s chest, the firm muscle of his pecs a perfect cushion. Their eyes met and Peter’s purr grew louder which only made the fond smile on Tony’s face grow wider.

“Alright, Pete, what is it?” Tony laughed, hugging him tight. “You've ambushed me before my coffee and you're purring up a storm so you're up to something. Give your old man a break and out with it.”

Peter pouted but he let his purring taper off before it stopped completely.

“First off, you're not old, Dad,” Peter had to protest.

Yeah, his dad had some silvers and grays in his hair and beard, but he was far from old. He was still in the prime of his life as far as Peter was concerned.

“Mhmm.”

Tony wouldn't be so easily distracted so Peter adopted his best puppy eyes look. Wide round honey brown eyes and just the slightest downturn of his lips completed the pouty look.

“Ouch, pulling out the big guns,” his dad dramatically sighed.

“Dad… You know they put me in omega ed this year, right?” Peter started.

“Mhmm, I had to sign off on it 'cause you know how some parents get about that stuff,” Tony said then raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “Do you want out or something?”

Peter paused but then shook his head.

“No, not really,” Peter decided, “I'm learning some stuff but it's…” How could he explain that it wasn't giving him what he wanted?

“Not what you expected, huh?” His dad hummed in understanding.

Peter instantly lit up, pleased that his father just understood him right off the bat.

“Yeah! I mean, I've tried asking questions but it always goes back to–” Here, Peter pitched his voice to a soft almost condescending tone, “This is not that type of class, Peter. I don't think your parents would appreciate it if I indulged in those kinds of questions, Peter. This class is just to help you get a better understanding of how your body works.”

Peter huffed by the end of his mini rant and immediately, his dad soothed him with a few strokes to his hair.

“Yeah, I get it,” His dad indulged him, “So what can I do, hmm? The classes that’ll scratch that itch in your brain are probably college courses. Psych classes if you're interested in the bonding aspect or maybe those general Alpha-Beta-Omega classes… We can look into some AP classes or some online classes…?”

Peter briefly thought about it but then shook his head.

“I don't think my interest is that deep,” he explained to his dad. “At least not yet? I just want… something more informative or uhh… something more real life than diagrams and stuff…”

Throughout the entire exchange, Tony maintained eye contact with him, probably to show he took Peter’s concerns seriously. Peter loved that about his dad but for the first time, the young omega hesitated. He didn't think it was weird for him to ask his dad but maybe it was weird in general?

They had a strong bond but surely, there were limits and lines between father and son that couldn't– shouldn't be crossed.

He's already gotten this far, though, and with his dad now alerted to a problem, Tony definitely wouldn't let it go unless Peter begged him to drop it.

But the thing is… Peter didn't want to drop the subject. This was his life, his future, and his understanding of what being an omega meant. He trusted that his dad would always have his best interest at heart, that he loved him no matter what and no matter what questions Peter asked.

There was no one he trusted more so Peter took the jump.

“I thought maybe… you can help me?”

There, it was out there in the open.

There was a moment of silence where Peter felt blood rush up to his cheeks and flush down his neck. This was probably the craziest thing he'd ask from his dad.

“You… want me to talk about my, uh, dating…. life…?” Tony asked, puzzled.

With that, Peter instantly relaxed but he did make a sour face at the question itself. He didn't want to know anything about the many alphas, betas, or omegas that had caught his father’s interest in the past. He didn't even try to parse the fact that it was other people getting intimate with his dad that bothered him, not the fact that it was his dad at all.

“Nooo thank you,” Peter denied very quickly. Rando strangers getting their grubby hands all over his amazing father? Gross.

“Not like I have much of one,” Tony sighed then ruffled Peter’s hair again, this time a little roughly, “Too busy with this little troublemaker here.”

Peter grabbed his dad’s wrist and set his teeth to the skin there in a playful bite. And like the good daddy he was, Tony pretended to be seriously injured.

“Oww, what a feral feisty omega I've raised,” Tony bemoaned as he tested the hold that Peter’s teeth on him.

Peter let go but still held onto his dad’s hand. The embarrassment had died down with their interaction. His dad always knew how to make Peter feel better.

“I don't wanna know about your past flings,” Peter told Tony seriously. “But I wanna know things about… alphas… And I've looked into some stuff but none of them were…” Just thinking about all the ridiculous porn he’d stumbled across in his research made him feel hot all over.

“...Credible…” Peter coughed.

His alpha gave him a look, no doubt realizing what his sources were.

“So what… you want like… tips?” Tony asked hesitatingly. “About alphas?”

“Maybe?” Peter answered, also a bit doubtful. He wasn't sure tips was the right word because he wanted something more than that. “...Would it be too much to like…”

Why was this so hard! Peter wanted nothing more than to bite his dad’s hand again, just so the words wouldn't come out. But he was a Stark and even though they were bonafide geniuses, they were also idiots with idiot planning at times.

Maybe he should've put more thought into this. His dad would never do anything to hurt him or make fun of him for his questions. The worst that could happen would be his father saying no and setting up some online learning and getting actual credible sources… But this was what Peter wanted.

He just wanted his emotional support alpha, who happened to be his dad, to hold his hand through all of it.

That was what he wanted. If he could have it. But first, he'd have to ask.

Peter firmed his resolve and then looked up from where he’d been staring at their clasped hands.

“I think I do want tips and… maybe some… hands-on experience…?” Peter tacked on the last bit, unsure of what his dad’s response would be.

Tony’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline.

“Oh,” was his dad’s response. The request was definitely a surprise, but it wasn't a no.

Peter looked at his dad, hopeful and uncertain. Terrified but excited.

Maybe… maybe…??

His daddy took in his puppy eyes and Peter could see the second he gave in.

“Ohh, boy,” his dad groaned, “you're so vicious, Pete. At least let me have my coffee before you throw something like this at your old man. I can't believe my baby boy would pop this question before I've even had a sip to wake up.”

That sounded like a yes! Well, not a definite yes, but Peter knew his dad and that was a yes for sure.

He pecked a kiss on Tony’s cheek, his face making some weird expression because he was trying not to smile.

Peter quickly retreated back to his OJ, leaving his father to his coffee. He did have a bounce in his step.

He watched eagerly as Tony poured way too much sugar into his coffee. He didn't even make a peep as his dad stirred for a bit before taking his first sip.

He waited patiently and when his dad finally looked at him, their eyes met over the rim of their cups. It felt like something seemed to sizzle between them, some irreversible change that Peter didn't understand.

“Alright,” his dad said once he'd gathered his thoughts. “So my baby boy wants his daddy to teach him about being an omega and what to expect from alphas. Is that it?”

Peter’s breath hitched as he saw the look in his father's eyes. Dark and calculating. The mood was entirely different now and Peter’s heart fluttered as anticipation took over.

“Y-yeah, I mean, yes, Daddy,” Peter tried to sound so confident like a strong omega who knows what he wanted but the words came out coquettish and shy.

That only made his dad hum thoughtfully.

“Alright, Pete,” Tony affirmed, “This… Whatever this is… You gotta be sure, kid, that this is what you want. I’ll always stop if you want me to or you decide to call it off– but some things you can't pretend never happened once you've done ‘em. If you know what I mean.”

Peter did know. Theoretically. Or at least he’d thought about it briefly. Even now, he was sure this was what he wanted.

“I'm sure,” Peter said with all the confidence of a teen who only had a tiny inkling of what he was getting into.

“Good,” his dad said and Peter sighed in relief at the acceptance. He smiled at his father, only for his breath to catch because…

For the very first time, the person looking at him wasn't his patient loving father, but an alpha assessing a potential omega.

Oh…

His dad was already starting without realizing it. With just that one look, Peter was already learning what it meant for an alpha to look at an omega like that. It made him feel… he wasn't sure what but he liked it.

His gaze dropped but then flirted back up. His dad smirked at him, knowingly, and Peter agonized over what that smirk meant. His dad always seemed to know what was on his mind, did he know what he was doing to his own son, even now?

Peter’s hands tightened on his drink, cheeks flushed like he'd been drinking wine instead of juice. Was this how omegas felt when alphas gave them attention…?

If so… Peter liked it. He liked it a lot.

The omega squirmed in his seat, surprised but excited by the indescribable look in his father's eyes.

He couldn't wait to learn what it meant.

[clarisse0o]

The Mayor - Chapter 32

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe: Mayor and Architect

Words: 600

Masterlist

———————————————————————

 "Hola, bella!" 

Marion stood at my door, arms wide open. It was Friday night, and my high school friend—Marion, a Parisian lawyer—had come to spend the weekend with me. She was one of my closest friends: a fiery ball of energy, sharp-tongued, and devastatingly funny. I was thrilled she was here; she would be a perfect distraction.  

We spent Friday night chatting over sushi and a bottle of white wine, laughing and sharing secrets. I told her everything about my love life and my story with Lucy in great detail. She wasn’t from this city and could be discreet. Talking about it for the first time felt incredibly liberating.  

Marion was stunned from start to finish.

 "Wow, you! I’m learning so much here! I’m sad about you and Alessia; I really liked her. But this story—tell me, from Persian rugs to Alpine weekends—she’s something else!" 

 "You know her?" 

 "No, I’ve seen her in the papers once or twice! You’re going to end up with a major political figure, Ona. Maybe even at the Élysée Palace!"  she joked.

I shrugged with a smile.

 "We’re far from that, as I explained. After yesterday, with her comment... we’re nothing, really." 

 "Oh, come on, Ona. Sometimes you’re a bit touchy, you know." 

 "Me? Not at all,"  I replied with a pout that made her laugh.

The evening was a balm for my soul. Friends are always the best remedy.

---

  The next morning, the doorbell woke me at 9 AM.   Half-asleep, I had no idea who it could be. Marion was beside me, still drowsy. There had never been any ambiguity between us, apart from a drunken kiss at a high school party years ago. She had been with one of my friends, an architect like me, for years. I had even introduced them.

I opened the door to find Lucy standing there, smiling broadly, a bag of pastries in hand.

 "Ona, breakfast? I brought croissants!" 

That’s when Marion appeared behind me, wearing shorts and a tank top, smiling brightly. Lucy wasn’t aware Marion was visiting; it had been a last-minute plan, and I had forgotten to tell her.

 "So, we have company?"  Marion said cheerfully.

Lucy’s face instantly darkened, her expression now icy as she threw me a pointed look.

 "Come in, Lucy! Uh... this is Marion, an old friend! Marion, Lucy Bronze!" 

Marion stepped forward to kiss Lucy on both cheeks. The contrast between Marion’s lively demeanor and Lucy’s frosty mood couldn’t have been starker.

 "The Mayor! I’ve seen you in the papers! Coffee?"  Marion offered enthusiastically.

We sat in the kitchen, eating pastries over coffee, chatting. Marion’s outgoing nature filled the room. Lucy, however, seemed uneasy, casting questioning glances my way. Marion, meanwhile, grew increasingly tactile with me—touching my arm, wrapping her arm around my shoulders—much to Lucy’s visible irritation.  

I knew Marion was amused by the situation, testing Lucy’s reactions with every suggestive gesture. To be honest, I found the situation entertaining too.  

Lucy’s demeanor became colder by the minute. Her responses grew curt, and she left abruptly, throwing one last annoyed glance my way without saying a word.

 "Well, I didn’t make a new friend there!"  Marion said once the door closed.  "Sorry, I couldn’t help it. Her reaction was just too funny!" 

 "You’re terrible,"  I replied, laughing.

 "Did you see her face? Her eyes were practically shooting daggers! When you said yesterday that you two were nothing, forgive me if I have my doubts!" 

A few minutes later, I received a text from Lucy:

 Nice to meet your girlfriend. 

The message dripped with sarcasm. I chose not to reply.

The weekend was shaping up to be eventful.

[babybatscreationsv2]

Almost Romance

Marvel | Starker

Peter doesn't like the things Tony does to him. It doesn't make it any easier when Tony says that he loves him, but he can pretend that it does.

Rating: Explicit

For @vaguekiwi

Warnings and tags below***

Warnings/tags: Rape and rape kink, praise kink, painful sex, rough sex, possessive Tony, cum play, cum marking, breath play/passout, dark fic

Tony put all of his weight on his hands, pushing Peter down into the bed. He was tired now. The tears fell much slower. He barely even tried to move though the occasional squirm made Tony throb. He hadn't even put the whole thing in yet.

"Tony..." Peter breathed. Tony inhaled, closed his eyes, soaked up the sound of his name on those sweet lips.

"That's a good boy," Tony murmured softly. He placed a kiss on Peter's cheek. The boy squeezed his eyes shut and sobbed.

"Please stop," he tried again. The sound of it was already burned into his mind. He'd jack off to for the rest of his life.

"Stop what, Peter? Stop raping you? But it feels so good." He pushed himself in a little deeper, into the heaven that was Peter's hot silky insides. The boy whined and squirmed. He could barely move against Tony's weight.

"You're so fucking soft. And tight," he panted. "Fucking squeezing me, baby."

"Don't do this," Peter pleaded.

"Don't be scared, Peter. I'm barely even hurting you. You've had way worse."

Peter sobbed. He turned his face into the bed. Tony grabbed his hair and turned his head back, but the sharp pain had the boy fighting again, clawing at his wrist and squirming under him. So Tony bucked his hips. He forced his cock inside, all the way, his hips against that perky ass. Peter screamed, but he was distracted enough for Tony to get his arms behind his back.

He fucked him slow and deep, riding him into the bed while he cried. "Such a good boy," Tony purred again. "That's my boy."

He was less coherent as he picked up the pace. Peter laid limp and sniffling. Tony fucked him like he was trying to hurt him with his dick alone.

"I know it hurts, baby. I just can't get deep enough," he breathed against his neck. He left sloppy kisses on every bit of skin he could reach. "I need to be inside you. All the way. Need to be close to you. I love you so much, Peter."

Peter seemed to freeze beneath him. "You love me?" he said. But Tony took it as an 'I love you too'. He grabbed one of his hips and pulled the boy back against him as he pushed forward, making sure he came as deep as possible inside him.

He moaned happily and laid over his back. Tony kissed every part of him that he could reach. "You're all mine now. My cum's gonna soak up inside you. Into your blood. Become part of you. I'll be inside you forever."

Peter sobbed once again. His whole body shuddered.

Tony slept more soundly than he could ever remember with Peter wrapped up in his arms. The boy slipped away first thing in the morning, but Tony was happy. Every time he looked at him, he knew his cum was still in there. Peter couldn't meet his eye for a few days, but whatever was bothering him passed eventually. He should have been happy that Tony wanted him so badly. He was beautiful and so perfect that Tony had to resort to extremes to have him.

It was an itch that got under his skin any time Peter was too close. He found himself thinking about the way Peter struggled and cried even during what was a casual conversation. After a while he reached down to adjust himself, not noticing until then that he'd gotten hard. Just watching Peter's pretty pink lips move, hearing that voice. He was only a man.

Peter's smile faded as his eyes flicked down to Tony's crotch. His cheeks turned red.

"You alright, Pete?" Tony asked. He held in a smirk. The boy looked so vulnerable.

"I should get going. I'm not feeling great." Peter moved to leave, but Tony grabbed his arm. He froze.

"Stay." Tony kissed his neck and Peter shivered.

"Please don't..." he said.

Tony's free hand slipped up Peter's shirt, feeling his strong abdomen as he sucked a bruise into his skin. Peter whined at the pain. When he tried to move away, Tony easily pulled him back. He popped open Peter's jeans and slipped his hand inside to fondle his soft cock and that's when Peter started to panic again.

"Stop it," he shoved him away.

Tony's eyes narrowed at him. He pushed him back against the table behind him and down until he was off balance, feet off the floor, hands scrambling.

"Please please," Peter sobbed. Tears welled in those pretty eyes.

"You're mine, Peter. Don't be so dramatic. You know I have to have you."

"Just..." Peter's voice broke. He turned his face away.

"Just what, baby?"

"Just..." he took a shaky breath. "Say it again," he said, but it came out so soft that Tony wasn't sure.

"Say what, Peter?"

"Just... just tell me. If you're gonna- gonna-"

"If I'm gonna rape you."

Peter squeezed his eyes shut. "Yeah. Tell me what you said."

Tony smiled. "Does that make it easier? Poor Petey. You're such a sweet little thing. Do you see why I need you so bad?" He kissed a line up his throat, over his chin, until he reached his mouth. With their lips brushing together he said, "I love you."

Peter's chest heaved as he sobbed. But he didn't fight as Tony reached his hand down into his pants again. He rubbed him and stroked him while he forced kisses onto his slack lips, tongue dipping inside his mouth making him shudder and cry. Peter's cock barely stiffened, but Tony was satisfied. He stepped back from the table only to pull Peter down to the floor.

The boy started to cry again as Tony pulled his dick out of his pants. "Please don't," he sobbed.

Tony held his dick in one hand and Peter's hair in the other. He ran the tip over his soft cheeks, across his forehead, over his chin, like he was marking him.

"Open." Peter parted his lips just enough for Tony to stuff his cock inside. Teeth scraped against him and he didn't even care. He was back inside of Peter where he belonged. He stood over him panting, cock resting on the boy's tongue. He pet Peter's hair, fingers running through to gently scratch his nails over his scalp.

"That's a good boy. My good boy. I love you, Peter." He stroked his cheek as tears rolled down. Peter's jaw slacked just a little bit more, enough for him to move. Tony loved this scared, hesitant, compliance. So he went slowly, more running his cock over his tongue than fucking his mouth, but that was okay if Peter didn't want to close his lips. When the head of his cock prodded at the back of his throat it spasmed around him. Peter choked and jerked back, but Tony just pinned his head against the table to hold him in place.

It was almost better than his ass. The slow gentle violence of making the both gag until he wretched with lazy soft thrusts of his hips, until the panic found him and he fought again. Tony stopped fucking his mouth to get ahold of his wrists. He pulled Peter's arms back and pinned his wrists against the table with one hand.

"Don't make things harder, baby. I'm cumming down your throat one way or another." He grabbed his jaw as Peter clenched it shut. "Open up so I can rape your mouth. You know I can make you if I have to."

Glaring and sniffling, Peter did what he was told. Tony sighed as he stuffed his cock back inside. Peter's lips closed around him, not sucking, but still wrapping him in wet heat. He took advantage of those lips, fucking the ring of his mouth just to know every part of him belonged to Tony. Going deeper still made him gag, but there was nowhere for him to go. Tony had him pinned down well. And he loved the way he struggled when Tony forced himself into his throat. Especially as he ran out of air and his eyes began to flutter.

He pulled out to let him breathe and Peter begged him to stop with all of his precious air until he cut him off again.

"Should I cum right here down your throat? Or all over your face? It's a tough choice." Tony mused. "Of course, if it's on your face you'll just wash it off won't you? Better to leave it where it'll stay with you for a while."

Peter whined around his dick. Tony could just imagine that he was begging him to cum down his throat, to make him inside, to make sure he knows who he belongs to.

He let the boy breathe one more time, then he stuffed his cock back in his mouth and fucked his throat like he'd fucked his ass. Bruising and selfish. Peter cried, scared and hurting, and it just brought Tony to the edge that much faster. He thrashed as his lungs burned without air, but Tony held back until he stilled. Peter's eyes grew heavy, fluttering delicately at him. His mouth slacked. His struggling became weak little twitches. And that's when Tony went as deep into his throat as he could without breaking it. And he came, imagining his cum sliding down his throat, through his body, down into his stomach.

When he pulled out, Peter jolted, but he didn't start breathing again until Tony slapped him. He gasped, leaning over into Tony's hands. Tony knelt down and pulled him into his arms. He pets his hair.

“You did so good, baby. You're my good boy.”

Peter cleaned into his chest, crying against him. Tony smiled. “I love you, baby.”

[kstarker]

The Education of Peter Stark (chapter 2)

Omegaverse Victorian Starker AU

Trigger warnings: Dead Dove, Incest, NonCon, Underage

The next morning, Peter came to Tony’s study in his nightgown, just as instructed.

“Alpha?”

“Good morning, Peter. Go and present on the bench, just as I showed you yesterday.”

Peter did as he was told.

“Pull up your skirt around your waist.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

Tony sat down behind his desk and began to work, leaving Peter with his pussy and hold on display. After about five minutes, Peter made a noise.

“What was that, Omega?”

“I’m sorry, Alpha, but I don’t like this.”

“I didn’t ask if you liked it. I asked you to present with your pussy out. So I don’t see the issue.”

Peter let out a sob.

“But, Alpha, anyone could walk in and see.”

“That’s a good point. They would have to open the door to see you. Thank you for telling me, Peter, I’ll go open the door.”

Read the rest here:

[abyss-slayer]

What Cody and Heathers dynamic would be if they were siblings:

When Heather comes to the island, Cody will roll his eyes at her trying to size everyone up and ignoring him

Cody made chicken noises when Heather tried to back out from diving off the cliff, which she then kicks him in the shin

Heather using her 'big sister status' to force Cody to do things for her for some of the challenges, annoying him to no end

When Duncan tries to pick on Cody, he'd get something thrown at him, be it a coconut, rock, or a bowl of Chef's food by Heather, though she'll try to deny it

When Gwen is about to put Harolds ant farm on Heather Cody stops her, instead he gives her a bottle of itching powder to put on her clothes

Sometimes, in the early mornings, Cody would help combing her hair, getting any difficult knots out that Heather can't reach

When Geoff spots them one night sitting together near the campfire, he's assumes that they're dating and tells everyone the next day, which disgusts Heather and reveals that they're brother and sister, shocking everyone (to which Cody wonders why them being related is more shocking then the idea of them dating)

After the bear attack, Cody was voted off, and Heather is the one to take him to the dock of shame instead of Beth, feeling guilty that her brother got hurt

When it was revealed, Beth took something from boney Island, Heather gets angry at the thought of Beth being not only the reason of the teams losing streak, but also blames her for being the reason for her brothers injuries

During World Tour, whenever Cody gets uncomfortable with Sierra, Heather helps him hide by lying to Sierra on his current location

Cody knows about Alejandro's true nature much earlier thanks to Heathers rants, doesn't stop him from teasing his big sister about having feelings for him though, much to her annoyance

Over the course of World Tour, they both start getting protective over each other, with Sierras constant starking of Cody and to Alejandro trying to trick Heather into teaming up with him

When Courtney and Gwen told Cody to make up with Sierra for trying to vote her off and Cody trying to get a say in but kept getting cut off, Heather tells them 'If you two had a constant starker invading your personal space, stealing your things and trying to force themselfs onto you, both of you will be saying completely different things' and just wakes off, dragging Cody with her

When Duncan tosses a dingo at Cody, causing him to fall off the cliff and get a concussion, both Heather AND Gwen kick him in the crotch

I'll try to come up with some more stuff in the future. This is my first time doing a post like this.

[taruchinator]

☕ Explicit Content

☕ 1.5k Words

☕ For the @starkerfestivals Valentine's Exchange!

There was always something about waking up next to Tony that made Peter's heart flutter.

Everyone knew Tony Stark was handsome. The silver fox was thirsted after by men and women alike thanks to his good looks and charismatic charm. But this right here, was a sight that Peter had all for himself.

A not-so-soft sensation suddenly rubbing against the brunet's thighs, which told him he was looking for something other than a comfortable body pillow.

Hey everyone! Alice here bringing you more Starker content! ^^

This is a little something I cooked last month for the Starker Valentine's Exchange which I'm super late on posting over here on Tumblr hehe.

Apologies to my giftee @starker-sorbet for being a bit late! I hope you'll still like it— I wanted to lean on domestic moments, but was also in the mood of smut, so I figured why not mesh them together~

There was always something about waking up next to Tony that made Peter's heart flutter.

Unlike his partner, the younger man was an early bird—sure, he'd spend time working on his inventions in the late hours of the night, yet for some reason his biological clock was wired for him to wake as soon as the sun started to rise. Which would probably be annoying for most people on their day off, but Peter quickly found the positive to this little quirk of his.

Shifting under the soft silk of their white sheets, the brunet sneakily placed an arm around the sleeping figure beside him, taking in the breathtaking sight with a soft smile.

Everyone knew Tony Stark was handsome. The silver fox was thirsted after by men and women alike thanks to his good looks and charismatic charm. But this right here, was a sight that Peter had all for himself—something the masses didn't know about his lover, and that made him feel special.

The older man was snuggled against his side, with the stubble of his beard tickling Peter in the rhythm of his even breathing. The usual crease between his eyebrows caused by both dealing with the duties of Stark Industries and an Avenger was not present, showing instead an expression that could only be described as peaceful.

Almost vulnerable.

The first time he'd been treated to this sight was at the beginning of their relationship, when Tony invited him to spend the night and share a bed. “Just sleeping”, he'd clarified, to which Peter only chuckled and nodded over how cute it was for Tony to not dare rush him into anything.

The morning after, the brunet was starstruck after seeing the older man draped over him. After clearing out the embarrassment of it all, Tony had said that he must've felt safe in Peter's presence, which instantly melted the young Avenger's heart.

Ever since, he's been eternally grateful to his early morning habits that allowed him to admire the man he loved in his natural habitat.

Tony shifted again, this time pressing himself completely to Peter's side with an incomprehensible mumble, almost as if he was seeking the other's warmth. Yet based on the not-so-soft sensation suddenly rubbing against the brunet's thighs, something told him he was looking for something other than a comfortable body pillow.

“Well someone's feeling frisky…” Peter mumbled under his breath with a coy grin.

Morning wood was relatively common in their bed sharing experience, despite Tony's insistence in being ‘too old for it’ and how it ‘made him seem like a horny teenager.’ They usually never had time to address it—the life of a superhero left little time for oneself, let alone a partner.

But today was different.

No catastrophic incidents to follow up on with S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters and no pesky Stark Industries meetings where they had to sit for hours trying to explain what the Iron-Man suit was even for.

It was a day just for them.

With skillful movements, Peter slowly guided his hand under the covers and against the familiar feeling of Tony's clothed bulge. A soft sigh was heard and Peter couldn't tell who it came from. All he knew was that the member was growing harder and larger.

After wrapping his fingers under the older man's underwear, Tony let out a soft groan while wiggling himself closer, which instantly sent a pool of heat to Peter's core.

“How can he be so cute yet so handsome?” Peter couldn't help it—before he knew it, his other hand was moving under the comfort of his briefs and began teasing his outer lips in synch to his lover's stroking. He let out a low moan, praying to any deity out there that he wasn't being loud.

He was used to caring for his sexual needs on his own, thanks to the aforementioned lack of time that came with a superhero's life. It made the few moments they did have together feel much more special and meaningful.

“Hmm… Either I'm still dreaming or this is the cheesiest start to a porno…”

A groggy voice brought Peter back to reality, with a pair of lips he knew by heart meeting his own. Their kiss was sloppy, soft and sweet, with Tony humming into it which brought a smile to the brunet's face.

“For the record, it seems like you were having a fun little dream there,” Peter teased slightly, “hopefully I was in it?”

“Honey, you star in my dreams every night.” Tony said with affection dripping from his voice, which was only a bigger indicator that he was still waking up. He was much more lovey dovey in the mornings. Peter chuckled in response, pulling the man closer in both a hug and to get a better grip on his cock. “Well that makes two of us, I guess…”

“Nuh-uh. Enough of that mister, gimme.” The older man swatted Peter's hand away, and instead placed it around his neck as he maneuvered around to try and feel what was hidden under the young man's underwear. Peter knew he was already dripping, but it didn't it from being embarrassing. “Someone's all ready to go…”

“When you wake up to your boyfriend grinding against you can you blame me?” Peter's voice hitched at the new hand rubbing circles against his clit. He'd never understand how Tony could make him melt with a snap of his fingers.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting, then.” A small smile crossed his features, which Peter gladly returned. After lowering both of their pants to each other's ankles, the billionaire began aligning himself to his entrance. With slow and steady movements, he was eventually inside.

Much less complicated from their first attempts, when Peter still had to adjust to Tony's size.

“Haa… you doin’ good?” The older man was in place, not daring to move until Peter said otherwise. He was always considerate that way.

“Y-Yeah. God, yes Tony, just move.”

And so he did.

‘Slow and steady wins the race’, so they say. The duo had never had time for that, though. Today however, it seemed like his boyfriend was on the same page as him when it came to taking it easy in their day off. Slow and almost lazy thrusts were what Peter received, and he didn't realize how much he needed a good release until now.

Kisses were peppered everywhere—his cheeks, his forehead, his collarbone. Pretty much anywhere Tony could get access to was fair game, and they all felt the same: warm and safe. Peter returned the affections as best as he could, but even in this slow rhythm they had going on, he was reaching his climax rather fast. Who could've guessed?

“Ngh… I'm close. W-Where do you want me, baby?” Tony mumbled close to his ear. Seems like he wasn't the only one at least.

“I-Inside. Inside is fine…” Peter moaned while pulling the other man closer to him, tugging gently at his hair as a somewhat lifeline.

Just like that, groans echoed across their bedroom, with the familiar feeling of Tony's warm seed filling up his insides. If this was a dream he certainly didn't want to wake up. Of course, that is until Tony decided to let out a yawn after their little session, which was just far too adorable for Peter to resist.

He reached for a tissue box on their nightstand and then turned upwards to the ceiling. “Jarvis. Can you get us started with some breakfast?”

The lights of their bedroom flickered to life, much to Tony's annoyance as he hid under the blankets. The comforting voice of the A.I. guarding the mansion replied. “Good morning, Master Peter. I will get started on that right away.”

“Thanks!” Peter smiled and the lights turned off, only for sounds to start coming from the kitchen as their meals were being prepared. “Well that was quite a way to start the day.”

“And it can continue to be wonderful,” Tony lifted his head slightly, not entirely sure if the lights would come back to spook him, “if we just stay in bed a little longer.”

“Haha! But don't you have that meeting—?”

“It isn't until after lunch. Now come and cuddle, you know daddy gets cold after we have sex.” Tony grumbled with a hint of annoyance in his voice, but it was clear that he meant no actual harm. Peter let out another chuckle in disbelief.

“Okay, yeah, I'm not calling you that. But I won't argue with free cuddles.” The brunet was quick to place his head against his lover's chest, feeling the warm sensation of his skin and arc reactor giving him life.

He'd never understand how he got this lucky. And to be honest, he didn't wanna dwell too much on it—He loved Tony and Tony loved him. That was all that mattered.

“Jarvis. Put a rain check for breakfast. Something tells me we'll be taking a little nap…” Peter mumbled only loud enough for the entity to hear him.

Breakfast in bed sounded much more appealing anyway.

✦ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐝 𝐓𝐨 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐬!✦

[rowrowrowanurboat]

Here's an old Starker prompt that I loved when I wrote it and then never looked at again, haha.

Feel free to comment or reach out for collaborative storytelling, RPing, sharing plot bunnies, etc.

[Recently Established, adult!Peter.]

After a month of dating and working together almost daily, they've been slowly moving into becoming intimate with long dates, cuddling on the sofa, casual touches while working in the lab.

This evening, Tony was pretty sure that they were headed for their First Time™. Everything was good, a perfectly cooked romantic dinner (that he'd practiced five days in a row), a movie in Tony's luxurious living room (Theater -- Peter insisted) after, hand holding and Peter's shy slightly awkward flirting.

It all culminating in a slowly building passionate make out session on Tony's sofa as The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the Eighth Dimension played in the background, unwatched by either of them.

It was heaven, sweet soft lips growing wilder and firmer as they kissed and kissed, and the most ridiculous firm body pressed up against his, his heart swelling with each precious shiver or sigh. But then, suddenly, it went the opposite way, a shock to the system like being volunteered for The Ice Bucket challenge mid-sleep.

They had started to get a little handsy, new territory for them, when in the blink of an eye Peter seemed to panic and was suddenly gone from Tony's lap and halfway across the large living room. Even Tony's mind couldn't process things quickly enough for him to make sense of Peter's sudden absence in the moment.

Worse yet, Peter all but rambled in an attempt to make an excuse about an exam the next morning, not saying much more than repeated apologies as he crammed his shoes on the wrong feet, hoodie still on the back of the sofa, and he was gone before Tony could even get out more than half a plea to ask Peter to stay.

Worried and a little more hurt than he'd ever let on, Tony immediately fired off a text, then another, and another until he felt as though he'd successfully managed the ever-elusive Communication.

Insecurity and embarrassment at his own scrambling-and-rambling reaction, Tony sighed at himself and dragged his hands down his face, desire entirely replaced by a ball of unpleasant feelings.

[Okay, so I definitely fucked up there. I know it, you definitely know it, I just can't quite figure out what I fucked up yet.]

[And, like, not to call what you said a lie, because you're You, but I'm just pretty sure that there's a lot more to what happened tonight than you suddenly remembering a Differential Equations exam. I wouldn't be upset if that's true. You can be honest with me, Peter. In fact, I really need you to be honest with me.]

[If you've changed your mind on *anything*, you can tell me. I'm sorry if I did something – anything – to make you uncomfortable. I'm even more sorry if you felt pressured in some way or if you felt like you couldn't be honest that you weren't feeling it or that I crossed a line.]

[I'm just worried that I fucked up and hurt you or worse, scared you. Or even that you've realized that I'm a Turn Off in some major way -- please tell me, even if you think it's rude.]

[You don't have to tell me things are fine if I'm making you feel rushed into sex or anything else physical. If anything, I wouldn't want it either, if you didn't.]

[So, yeah, I'm not mad. I'm not really upset. I'm just…worried. I'm sorry. Really. Shit, kid, these fifty fucking texts aren't helping a goddamned thing are they?]

[starkerlove]

Hiii I have a short story ider

Ok. Tony's alive after Endgame i guess 4 this?

I was thinking maybe he could comfort Peter after aunt may dies. Something fluffy with some smut.

Thx!

Always | Peter x Tony (Starker)

NSFW

"Baby... I know it hurts... God... How I know it hurts... But you have to breathe" Tony begged Peter, holding him by his shoulders while the younger one sobbed.

"I can't... I can't breathe... My chest hurts" Peter cried.

Tony pulled him into his arms, holding him tightly and applying pressure over his body, knowing it was a good anxiety relieving technique.

They stood like that for a long time, until Peter was asleep in Tony's arms. The older brunette took the younger one back to bed, holding him through the night.

When Peter woke up, he was warm and cozy in Tony's embrace. He smiled softly and kissed the older man's cheek "I don't know what I'd do without you Tones... You're my rock..." He murmured against his goatee.

"Morning, baby" Tony yawned "Do you feel any better?"

"Yeah... I do... I just want to forget... Please? Will you help me?" He rubbed Tony's chest.

"Are you sure?" Tony asked concerned.

"Yes, fuck me until I can't remember my name" Peter begged.

Tony kissed him deeply, hands roaming over the toned body, grabbing their clothes and removing them with ease.

He grabbed a lube from the bedside table and spread it all over his fingers, slowly pushing them inside Peter's entrance. "Sh... It's going to be okay... Breathe"

Peter moaned and did his best to relax. The pain mixed with pleasure was the best way to relieve his anxious mind, he was sure of that.

"Fuck... Fuck me... Please... I need you so bad..." He tugged Tony's hair to bring him closer so they could kiss. They kissed until they ran out of air. Peter opened his legs, inviting Tony's cock to fill him up.

Tony didn't waste time. He pushed himself inside of Peter and moved fast "Harder" Peter asked "More" as Tony pumped faster and harder, holding the boy's hips with strength, leaving marks on his pale skin until he came deeply in Peter's ass. While the younger one came untouched and laid back exhausted "I love you..." He whispered.

"I'm always gonna be here for you, baby"

[couldntbedamned]

Couldntbedamned's Master List

This is my Master List of fics I’ve written.  I’m linking them to my AO3 account.

Please be sure to carefully read all the tags and warnings posted for a fic – YOU are responsible for the content you choose you consume.

Updated as of 25 April 2024

Reader Fics

Right Now, Take Me Down (I Let You In) Tony Stark/Female Reader – Mature, Complete

Tony snoops through your phone and discovers some uh, fantasies and desires you’ve been keeping hidden. He takes it upon himself to make those fantasies and desires a reality, thanks to his amazing nanotechnology and trusted AI.  (A/B/O Roleplay)

Til the Veins Start to Shiver Bruce Banner/Female Reader – Mature, Complete

You decide to tease Bruce with some provocative photos while he's working. Bruce decides to tease you right back, and then some.  (Light Dom/Sub)

A Little Evening Break Stephen Strange/Female Reader – Mature, Complete

The Reader isn’t quick to comply with Stephen’s instructions and he gives her a hard time.

There’s Only Butterflies (Take Me Away) Stephen Strange/Reader, Strange Supreme/Reader, Defender Strange/Reader, Supreme Strange/Reader, Sinister Strange/Reader – Mature, Complete

It’s a pocket-dimension full of sunshine, with love that’s all theirs.

A Sweet Escape (To Better Days) Stephen Strange/Reader, Strange Supreme/Reader, Defender Strange/Reader, Supreme Strange/Reader, Sinister Strange/Reader – Mature, Complete

While it at first it weighed heavily on her, the knowledge that five of the most powerful beings in the multiverse were with her instead of protecting all of reality, she couldn’t deny the thrill that also came with that. The universe truly revolved around her. Her loves revolved around her and everything she was, she had, she did was for them in return.

Sometimes It Hurts Instead

Stephen/Reader (unrequited), Stephen/Clea, Reader/Reader's Husband - Teen, Complete

You see that the man you'd once had feelings for has moved on. You're not sure how to feel.

Waiting for the sun to be rising

Stephen/Chronically Ill!Reader - Mature, Complete

After a wild romp, you relax with Stephen and contemplate your relationship, reassuring him that regardless of what he does (or doesn’t) say you know exactly how he feels about you.

With a little peace and some harmony

Stephen/Chronically Ill!Reader - Teen, Complete

You’re sick and thanks to a weakened immune system, having a hard time resting and fighting it off. It’s absolutely miserable but lucky for you, Stephen is more than willing to step into the role of caretaker and help you feel better.

 Starker Fics (Tony Stark/Peter Parker)

Please note that Peter is an adult in all of these.

This is What You Came For Mature, Complete

Mr. Stark has had enough of what he considers to be Peter's not-so-subtle hints that he wants to get f*cked. He decides to teach Peter a lesson.

An Absolutely Peerless Cure Dark!Tony – Mature, Complete

When Peter gets the hiccups while on patrol, Tony takes it upon himself to help rid him of the pesky problem. Sure, that Wikipedia article could be absolute horseshit, and sure, Dr. Strange had been tipsy when he agreed with it, but it's a risk Tony's willing to take in his quest to draw Peter closer to him.

…And Many More Mature, Complete

Tony has a surprise for Peter's birthday, putting a true Tony Stark spin on a long-standing wish that Peter's had. Because whether he's giving or receiving, Tony is always in charge. Not that Peter's complaining.

(Just to See How It Feels) Mature, Complete

It's late. Peter's tired and wants to sleep because he has a big exam in the morning. Tony's horny. So maybe he can convince Peter to let him put in just the tip. (It's never just the tip.)

Getting the Best Mature, Complete

Peter Benjamin Parker is a genius. A once-in-a-lifetime type of genius.

And the little prick has the nerve to be undecided, even with the promise of a full-ride to MIT.

Even Saints Into Savages Mature, Complete

The mission was supposed to be a cake walk. Get in, get the stupid mystic alien amulet, get home. So, they figured it was safe enough to bring Peter along. Only Rocket assumes something, and that assumption leads to an awkward situation for everyone involved. Tony'll do whatever it takes to save Peter. If only he didn't know that he'd enjoy it so damn much. (Aliens Made Them Do It)

Back to Where You’ve Never Been Mature, Work in Progress

In an alternate reality, Peter Parker is living out his dream of being Spider-Man and working as an intern for Stark Industries (and the Avengers!) under his hero, Tony Stark, before heading off to college.  For the most part, it's incredible.  Okay, the Avengers treat him like he's still a child, and Mr. Stark's not exactly the friendliest mentor. But still, it's good.

Except that recently, Mr. Stark's been in the worst mood and Peter finds himself the unwitting focus of the man's ire.  He tries to keep his spirits up and tell himself that it's not personal, that anyone in the lab would be a target, but when Mr. Stark kicks him out, Peter knows he's done.

Then he finds himself falling for what feels like an eternity before returning to New York.  Only it's not his New York City and the Iron Man he ends up fighting alongside is definitely not his Iron Man.  Anthony Stark is kind of perfect.  The Other Avengers are kind of perfect.  Everyone here seems to love him.  And when he and Anthony are tapped by Dr. Strange to help seal the rift between realities, Peter finds himself wondering if he was supposed to be in the reality with Anthony all along.  (AU of an AU)

Updated with Chapter 14 on 02 January 2024

SpiderStrange Fics (Peter Parker/Stephen Strange)

Please note that Peter is an adult in all of these.

One in Fourteen Million, Six Hundred and Five Dark-ish!Stephen – Mature, Complete

Stephen doesn't have time to admire Peter as much as he'd like, given that they're trying to stop total Armageddon. This is the fate of the universe at stake; his attraction doesn't really have a place here. But even still...

("Oh, we're using our made-up names? Ok, I'm Spider-Man.")

Something about this stupidly brave and chatty guy intrigues him.

Now That I’ve Found You (I Won’t Let You Go) Dark!Stephen – Mature, Complete

All Stephen wants is for Peter Parker to be happy and safe... with him. When Peter rejects Stephen? Stephen doesn't take it very well. He'll just have to ensure that Peter realizes that Stephen is his future.

Only Of What’s Mine Mature, Complete

Peter wasn't expecting to find an Alpha so soon after turning 18. After all, many Omegas don't bond with an Alpha at all until they're in their mid-20s at least. But after everything on Titan and the Snap and then the Blip and Mr. Stark nearly killing himself to destroy Thanos once and for all, Stephen had taken an interest in Peter. And Peter, god help him, was just as taken with the Alpha. (A/B/O AU)

The (It’s Not Sex Pollen!) Powder of Prana Mature, Complete

Stephen warns Peter to be careful while exploring the Sanctum. Peter, naturally, doesn't listen. The Powder of Prana goes flying. And now Stephen finds himself the only person Peter trusts to keep him from dying. With sex. (Sex Pollen AU)

Private Practice Mature, Complete

Peter Parker's appointment with Dr. Strange doesn't go as he'd planned when the good doctor prescribes a certain medical procedure. (Medical Kink/Medical Play)

Yours to Break (But Always Mend) Mature, Complete

Peter’s tears had long since stopped, replaced by weak, hitched sobs sometime after what might have been the sixth or seventh blow. He couldn’t remember why snapping back at Stephen like a brat had seemed like a good idea. He couldn’t remember why breaking the rules in the first place - starting all of this - had seemed like a good idea. (Dom/Sub)

I Know the Storms Will Always Come (But I Still Love to Have You Around) Mature, WIP

After Endgame, Stephen returns from another dimension to find Peter's life threatened by Quentin Beck's schemes. He undoes the damage and takes a struggling Peter into his care.

Peter needs time and a safe place to rebuild himself; Stephen's happy to provide that, even as he works to push aside the feelings he has. It's a tricky line to walk, setting boundaries and structure for Peter while imagining those same things in a very different context.

As Peter begins to come back to his usual self, personalities and wills clash, occasionally helped along by a certain Witch and a perpetually amused and exasperated Librarian. And Stephen finds that he can't plan for everything.

These Inconvenient Fireworks Mature, WIP

After a battle, Mr. Stark crosses a line with Peter. Peter, tired of being on the receiving end of Mr. Stark's anger, asks Stephen - who's witnessed everything - to take him away. In doing so, Stephen starts down a path with Peter he didn't see coming.

Alternatively: Peter's heart gets broken and Stephen helps put it back together.

Updated 23 Sep 2023

It’s All Routine Mature, Complete

Peter Parker is back at Dr. Strange's office for a physical required by his upcoming internship. He's hoping it will be quick and easy, but when Dr. Strange finds out that he hasn't had a physical since he was a young child, his hopes are dashed. Dr. Strange intends to be very thorough. (Medical Kink/Medical Play)

You Kiss Your Sorcerer With That Mouth? Mature, Complete

During a mission, Spider-Man lets some choice words for Dr. Doom slip. Stephen's less than pleased at Peter's disregard for how he's supposed to conduct himself as Spider-Man when he's in the public eye. He gives Peter some time to think about what he's done, and has a creative way to ensure Peter thinks twice before doing it again. (Domestic Discipline)

Help Me Up, Let’s Keep On Running Mature, Complete

Peter and Stephen have several rules set up in their dynamic. The two biggest? That Peter will look after his health and well-being, and that they will always be honest with each other.  

Peter manages to break both of them in one fell swoop, and Stephen is none too pleased.

Discussions are had, actions lead to consequences, and Peter emerges from the experience secure in the knowledge that Stephen will do whatever it takes to make sure he's cared for and loved. (Domestic Discipline)

I Can See The Man That I Fell For Fighting Mature, Complete

It was supposed to be a quick in and out job. Just into the study to grab his book he’d left in there by accident the night before, and then out before Stephen even knew he was up and about. Harmless.

It wasn’t his fault that Cloak decided it needed to follow him around like some overly nosy puppy. Or that Cloak decided it needed to join him in the study as he looked for his book. Or that Cloak had decided to apparently “guard” something in the study in way that just screamed suspicious and naturally piqued Peter’s curiosity.

In and out, no harm done.

But when it became clear that Peter was overstaying his welcome in the space, Cloak had also felt the need to snitch.

He’d really, really fucked up. (Domestic Discipline)

This Back's Not Going to Break So Easily - Part 1 of 2, This Back’s Not Going to Break So Easily - Part 2 of 2

Mature, Complete

When Peter comes to Stephen upset and insisting he needs to be punished, Stephen knows something's wrong. Given a chance to calm down and feel safe, Peter explains what happened while he was at the Tower working in the labs and interrupted by Harley. Stephen reassures Peter that he did nothing wrong and does his best to comfort him.

Also featured: Stephen confronting Tony and Harley like a boss, Peter and Stephen's love, trust, and mutual respect for each other, lots of fluffy/dirty teasing, and pizza. (Domestic Discipline)

And I Let the Knots of Time Come Undone Mature, Complete

After breaking one of their established rules, Stephen finds himself at Peter's service for the day. Tasked with his least favorite chores, Stephen tries to maintain his sanity and make it through, all while reluctantly admitting to himself that all things considered, he's getting off easy.

If only he could get rid of that damn bell... (Domestic Discipline)

Our Road Gets Better With Every Bend Mature, Complete

Peter's getting ready for his junior year at Columbia. But before he goes back to school, there's the matter of his 21st birthday to deal with. Which is inevitably going to affect The Rules he and Stephen have. And what should be a nice night out for Peter's birthday takes a bit of a detour when a former acquaintance from Peter's freshman year unexpectedly runs into the happy couple.

Stephen's not jealous. No, not one bit. (Domestic Discipline)

Maybe If I Hold You Close, Baby We Could Just Let Go Teen, Complete

While the idea of accompanying Stephen to the high-brow fundraisers and charity galas seemed glamorous at first, Peter found the reality turned out to be much more disappointing. Everyone looks down their nose at him; people are forever swarming Stephen and flirting with him; and Peter usually finds himself alone, bored, counting the time until they can leave. However, he keeps attending in the hopes that he'll finally get a chance to dance with Stephen like he'd imagined.

One night he gets to dance with a surprising friend, which may finally lead to a bit of happiness at the damned events going forward.

Or Stephen might take issue, if another friend doesn’t take it upon herself to give him a clue. (Domestic Discipline)

I'm Counting On A New Beginning, A Reason For Living Mature, Complete

Peter's been in a bad mood and his recent stretch of bad luck isn't helping matters. Stephen hasn't been able to get through to him, and even when Peter takes his punishments for acting out, something's off. Worried about his partner, Stephen tries to think of what it is he might have done wrong. Upset, Peter pulls away.

It takes a bad set of prototype arrows, saving someone's life, a friend snitching, a stern Dr. Palmer taking control of a situation, a very un-teamlike spying session, and an uncomfortable discussion or two before Stephen and Peter are back on the same page. (Domestic Discipline)

Man, What Are You Doing Here? Mature, Complete

He only had one final left to take... and then he was done with everything until the fall semester of his final year as an undergraduate. Since his final wasn’t until Thursday afternoon, he didn’t see the harm in going out with some friends to celebrate and cute loose on Tuesday evening.

Would he have chosen a bar? No. He wasn’t supposed to drink on school nights and honestly, he preferred going to the movies or a show. But he was in college and honestly, it wasn’t like it needed to be a big deal.

And it wasn’t like Stephen needed to know. (Domestic Discipline)

Cold Comes From the East Side (Ch. 1)(Ch. 2)(Ch. 3) Mature, WIP

Peter breaks one of the rules in a spectacular way and suffers the consequences. It's rare for Stephen to actually be angry with him, but given the circumstances, Peter supposes the anger is more than earned. It's a hell of a situation for the pair of them and Peter wonders if they'll actually make it through. (Domestic Discipline)

Published Chapter 3 on 14 August 2023

Goodbye Grey Sky, Hello Blue Mature, WIP

In an alternate universe where trains and zeppelins are still common forms of travel and the internet and cell phones exist, Peter Parker has few options left after he's swindled out of his inheritance. Unable to pay for college, let alone keep the house left to him by his deceased aunt, he's running out of time before he's out on the streets. Desperate, Peter signs his life over to the Bureau of Civic Spousal Selections to take his chances as the selected husband of a complete stranger. After all, he only has to make it through a year and then he can choose to annul.

Dr. Stephen Strange has little interest in marriage, preferring to focus on his career. When his career is threatened by what a nosy board of directors considers a "lack of personal fulfillment and settling down," he opts to select a spouse through the BCSS and chooses Peter Parker. The young man's profile suggests intelligence and compatibility. It's not ideal, but if after a year it's not working out, he can always annul the marriage and send Peter on his way.

It's a marriage neither truly wants, with sharp learning curves for both. It's either going to be forever or it's going to go down in flames. (Domestic Discipline, 1950s-Modern Fusion AU)

Updated with Chapter 34 on 25 April 2024

Nevertheless, Recover Mature, Complete

Peter finds himself once again in Dr. Strange's office, hoping to find a reason and a cure for his latest ailment.  He's come to the right place, since Dr. Strange will do everything it takes to diagnose and treat Peter. Hopefully, Peter will survive the embarrassment. (Medical Kink/Medical Play)

Doctor 13 Fics (Christine Palmer/Sharon Carter)

Baby, You Don't Gotta Fight Mature, WIP

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7

Dr. Christine Palmer is just living her life, content in her job as a trauma surgeon and happily moonlighting as Peter Parker's general physician at her old friend Stephen's request.

One evening as she finishes up examining Peter, she encounters the force of nature that's Sharon Carter, who seems to have a reckless streak a mile wide.

She's not sure what to make of the spy-turned-Avenger, but she can tell Sharon's hurting, and Christine's healing nature won't be ignored.

Iron 13 Fics (Tony Stark/Sharon Carter)

Feels So Right, Can’t be Wrong Teen, WIP

Prologue | Yellow Tulip | Blue Salvia | Yellow Narcissus | Red Morning Glory

The setting: Sanctum General Hospital in Sanctum Heights, New Amsterdam

Starring: Sharon Carter - former Central Security Bureau operative, Selecting Spouse in a horrifically failed Bureau of Civic Spousal Selections marriage, patient AND Anthony Edward "Tony" Stark - owner and CEO of Stark Industries, Futurist determined to rebuild a world his father built weapons to destroy, love interest

With Appearances by:  Nurse Wong, Orderly Rintrah, and Billy the Admin

And Featuring Doctor Stephen Strange as "the Surgeon"

Or, "Five Dates Tony and Sharon Had in Her Hospital Room and One They Had After She Was Discharged"

Updated 23 November 2023

The Phoenix Protocol Mature, WIP

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

No one else but Tony thought anything was off about Sharon. Investigating on his own, he discovered and brought down her Skrull impersonator and when he found the real Sharon near death, he made a choice that would change both of their lives.

MISC

This is What I Brought You, This You Can Keep

Stephen Strange/Clea Strange/Peter Parker - Mature, Complete

...who is he to deny the woman he loves - the woman who has seen into his soul with all its trials, agony, and dreams and loves him because of it! - who is he to deny her anything she desires?

If you feel so moved, feel free to buy me a cup of coffee! Couldntbedamned's Ko-Fi

[only-book-lovers-left-alive]

Transfer Essay- I NEED ADVICE

I'm applying as a transfer to Northeastern University's interpreting program, and I need some feed back. Word count was just 600, essentially "why are you transferring?".

When I was a barista, I had a Deaf coworker named Reyne. Her hard of hearing husband also worked at the store, and they both had the job to supplement their SSI. Reyne had been a barista for fifteen years and taught me most of what I knew, but her chronic pain made it impossible to keep up with constantly changing metrics.

Our store manager Felice was bubbly, but was also a quiet bigot whose cruelty made itself known just often enough. No one worked full-time in Felice's store if she could help it, but the disparity was starker during the holiday season. Reyne communicated to Felice that she needed to talk about her schedule, but Felice refused to use the VRS interpreters on the store iPads, which was unusual given that Reyne does not lipread or speak as a point of pride. Felice was making up an excuse about the cuts and the lack of holiday hours, which paid overtime. I jumped in, telling Felice she needed to get an interpreter on the iPad immediately, and she brushed me off. Reyne's eyes were glued to me as I sim-commed and saw Felice's eyes frost over the same moment I did. The careful blankness that glided across Reyne's face lit something within me, but what could I do? Say something and get Reyne fired? Helplessness and rage crept up my throat and coated the inside of my mouth in disgust.

Things went on the same as normal the day after. Felice giddily mouthed GOOD MORNING! to Reyne while signing FUCK-YOU, (a common mistake), and I watched the same blank mask drop into place as Reyne signed GOOD+MORNING back.

I was enrolled in the interpreting program at my local college at the time and brought it up to my professor; she said that I did what I could, but that me interpreting would've violated certification policies at the state level, as no interpreter was present in the building. I was useless, and would continue to be useless until I passed my BEI.

I graduated, (interpreting the ceremony with a professor instead of walking), and planned to get certified when my top surgery was moved up three months. I said yes, considering the political climate. Additionally, I'm no contact with my father, and at the time I was worried that he'd try to follow me to an assignment, as he'd stalked me before and tried to break down my door the night I went no-contact. Putting certification off until he moved was the safest thing to do. When he moved to New York, I decided to move to Detroit to get my bachelors. My interpreting skills had deteriorated, so I decided to move closer to Wayne State and attend in the fall of 2025 until Trump won the election. There's no state level protections for trans people in Michigan, and there likely won't be for the foreseeable future. As much as I love Detroit, I can't risk staying and losing my right to transition, much less risk having something like a legal name change revoked and have documents like my lease be null-in-void.

That being said- I'm not putting my career on hold again, which is where Northeastern comes in. The ASL interpreting and linguistics program would give me the tools I need to make sure I'll never be forced to watch on as someone's livelihood is brazenly stolen from them, with the added bonus of having used NEU's terptalks up until the present day. The commitment to diversity in Deaf perspectives is incredible, and there's really no other choice for me.

[vaguelyparker]

Movie Star

Starker

Rating: Explicit

Fair warning I haven’t written starker since pre no way home and I’ve never written anything even smut adjacent so I can’t vouch for the quality of this I just saw @monster-cock69 intern Peter prompt and basically forgot I was human until I finished 🤷‍♀️

Also Petey is still Spider-Man in this because overstimulation is fun 🫶 lmk if I should add any warnings again this is my smut debut so idk about any specific warnings that might be appreciated

—

Peter doesn’t flinch when the hand snakes around his waist. Warm and all encompassing and too low to be remotely professional. He’d recognize the gait anywhere. It’s almost pathetic- he’s only known the man for weeks and he can pick him from a crowd. But he’s Tony Stark. Peter has spent years thinking about the man. About his smell, his muscles, his everything. It’s hardly a surprise that in the few times they’ve interacted Peter can tell from the sound of creaking Italian leather and heavy rubber soles exactly who’s been trailing behind him for the last few corridors.

It’s just the two of them now. Peter can just barely hear the sounds of the bustling offices surrounding them over Stark industries sound proofing. But there hasn’t been a soul in at least the corridors and Peters sure Tony had a part in that if his tightening grip means anything. He lets the man take the lead- no longer walking aimlessly- aware but unable to act. Peter is slightly taller than the man, but hunched in on himself and leaning into the too low touch it’s barely noticeable.

Before long Peters being shepherded into a storage closet and shoved against the metal door. Tony’s lips are at Peters neck in an instant. Peter melts into the door a desperate pant leaving glistening lips as Tony’s beard scratches at the junction of neck and shoulder. Tony is a quick study- he’s learned the ins and outs of Peter in the few sessions they’ve spent together?

“There’s no cameras right?” Peter asks voice breaking mid sentence. Even though he’s sure he’s been splayed on a hundred different cameras already- the thought makes him squirm. Makes him think of Aunt Mays disappointment if, if, if.

Tony laughs into his neck, and ignores the question while he continues on- mapping every inch of Peters bared throat with teeth and lips and tongue and heat.

“Sweet heart this is Stark tower,” Tony whispers harshly into his ear in a perverse act of privacy they both know is unnecessary. As if he’s given a single shit about Peters modesty since the moment he saw chocolate eyes and indecent fucking lips chewing at the bottom of a pen. “There’s not an inch of this place where I don’t have eyes and ears.”

With that the man turns Peter- and fists at loose curls pulling his head up from where he’s been smushed against the cold metal door. He’s met with the sight of smooth wall- no tiny red lights, no obvious protrusions but Tony is a genius after all and Peter is left blinking away tears of mortification.

“So why don’t you smile for the camera?” Tony’s voice is louder and more demanding- punctuated with the sound of skin and fabric as his slacks and boxers are shoved down in a single move. Everything is too much. Every sound echoing in Peters ears right down to the beat of Tony’s pulse which picks up at the sight of him.

The man’s chuckles reverberate throughout the room. A shiver runs down Peters spine and wines into the door, now warm from the red of his cheeks.

The plug in his ass is pulled out and tossed aside in one fell swoop. Replaced with something- someone else in an instant as Tony drives into him like a starving man.

“Good boy, my good boy. God you look so good like this,” Filth keeps spewing from Tony’s lips as the man sets a punishing pace. One hand gripping bruisingly at his hip and Peters addled brain hates that the proof of this all will be gone come morning. The other still tangled around soft curls forcing Peter to stare directly at the camera even as he’s sobbing and coming undone. “Tell the camera how much you love it. How much you love being my perfect boy, my favorite fucking intern.”

“I love it Mr. Stark. I love being your good boy.” The words come out in barely discernible gasps. Peters sobbing openly at the point. Overstimulated and wanting no needing more.

Tony groans at the title shoving into Peters heat faster and harder.

“You gonna be my little movie star Petey? God cry just like that for the camera so I can watch this any time I think about this ass, these fucking lips,” The hand in his hair releases and shoves into Peters mouth. “So I can fall asleep listening to all these pretty little sounds.”

Tony pulls his fingers from Peters mouth rubbing them on the boys button up before gripping his unattended hip. Trusting without purchase. “You fucking tease. That’s what you want isn’t it baby? Can’t handle just being my favorite intern gotta be my favorite porn star too. Can’t handle me thinking about anything else. You’ve fucking ruined me.”

“Yes, yes, yes, please, please- just me, just me. I want,” Peter mumbles the same words, stumbling over them, coherency lost on him as his orgasm takes hold. “I want to be your favorite porn star.”

“Fuck.” Tony whispers leaning his head on the junction between Peters neck and shoulder blades. The combination of the fucked out admission and the way Peter was tightening around him as he orgasmed sending him over his release.

[nicolettesdreamworld]

Guilty as sin - chapter 27

I told myself I will only publish new chapter's weekly but considering the fact that it's the new year today I decided to give you guys a bit of a treat and give you the next chapter today! Happy new year everyone and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Nicolette couldn’t help but dread the decade dance. The very idea of celebrating anything felt absurd, considering the chaos her life had become. Still, she couldn’t shake the memory that it had been almost a year since Klaus had first arrived in Mystic Falls, posing as Alaric. A year since her world turned inside out.

So much had changed. Back then, she never would have believed that Alaric—the man who’d once been like family—could hurt her. Yet now, he was barely keeping his vampire-hating alter ego in check. The man she trusted most had become someone she had to fear.

And Bonnie? She wasn’t speaking to her. Not since Nicolette had betrayed her by essentially handing over her mother to the Originals. That betrayal cut deep, even if Nicolette still believed it was necessary at the time.

Then there was Tyler. Tyler, who should have been her safe place, her solid ground. But now, even they were on thin ice. It wasn’t that she didn’t love him—she did. More than anything. And yet, she couldn’t deny the shadow hanging over their relationship: Klaus.

She didn’t want Klaus. Not in the way Tyler feared. Whatever connection they shared, whatever strange, unspoken understanding simmered between them, it wasn’t something she would ever act on. At least, that’s what she told herself. But how could she convince Tyler of that? How could she explain something she barely understood herself?

And Klaus? He was a complication in and of himself. He had a way of slipping into her thoughts, uninvited and unwelcome, like the whisper of a song she couldn’t quite forget. There was something there, some inexplicable thread that tied them together. It was as though they were two sides of the same coin—opposites, but bound by some shared essence.

Of course, their differences couldn’t have been starker. He was everything she wasn’t: murderous, violent, psychopathic. And yet… yet she’d seen glimpses of something else. A side of him that was gentle, even kind. A side capable of caring. It was small, nearly imperceptible, but it was there.

The problem was, that tiny sliver of good wasn’t enough to outweigh the bad. It never would be. And no matter what anyone else saw, she would never let herself forget the truth of who Klaus Mikaelson was.

But as Nicolette stood in front of the mirror, adjusting her dress for the dance, she couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling that her life had spun so far out of control she barely recognized it. Mystic Falls used to feel like home. Now, it was nothing more than a battleground for monsters—herself included.

When Nicolette first woke up that morning, her head pounding and her stomach twisting with the telltale signs of last night’s overindulgence, she let herself believe, for a fleeting moment, that it had all been a bad dream. A hazy, alcohol-soaked nightmare that would dissolve with the morning light.

But then her eyes fell on her wrist—bare, empty, and accusing.

The diamond bracelet Klaus had given her, the one she swore she’d only kept because it was just a bracelet, was gone. She’d handed it back to him in a drunken fit of anger, throwing her frustration at him like it was his fault for being Klaus.

And now, the stark absence of it felt like a taunt. Evidence that, in her drunken state, she’d sought him out. Again.

The memories rushed back—his smug expression when he opened the door, the way his eyes flickered with something unreadable when she slammed the bracelet into his hand, and the words they exchanged. Affection. That was the word, wasn’t it? She cringed at the thought of it now.

Should she tell Elena?

That was the real question. They’d promised each other—no more secrets. Not after everything they’d been through, after everything they’d lost. But how could Nicolette explain something she didn’t even understand herself? How could she put into words the strange magnetism, the inexplicable connection she had with Klaus Mikaelson?

Nothing had happened. She repeated that to herself, like a mantra. Nothing had happened. Apart from the heart-to-heart she never intended to have, during which they’d danced dangerously close to admitting there was something between them. Some shared… what? Affection?

She groaned and buried her face in her hands.

Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. She loved Tyler, and she wasn’t about to throw that away for a man who had caused more destruction than she could count. She’d made a mistake, and now she had to figure out how to move forward without letting it spiral into something worse.

Still, as she stared at her bare wrist, the uneasy truth lingered. The bracelet might be gone, but its absence felt heavier than its presence ever had.

She knew she had to pull herself together. The decade dance was tonight, and no matter how disastrous the last one had been, she told herself this one would be better. It had to be better.

At least Tyler wouldn’t be there—one less complication to navigate. She felt a pang of guilt at the thought, but the truth was, she wasn’t ready to face either Tyler or Klaus. She needed space to clear her head, to figure out what the hell she was doing.

But life in Mystic Falls rarely went according to plan.

As soon as she stepped into the gymnasium, the festive lights and 1920s decorations doing little to ease her nerves, her heart stopped. There he was. Tyler.

He was smiling at her, and her brows furrowed in confusion as he began making his way toward her, cutting through the crowd with ease.

"Are you crazy?" she hissed the moment they were face to face, her voice low but urgent. "If Klaus sees you—"

Tyler cut her off with a smirk. "What’s he gonna do? Draw you another picture?"

Her eyes widened in frustration. "Tyler, this isn’t a joke!" she snapped, glancing around nervously, half-expecting Klaus to materialize out of thin air.

"I can pretend to be sired if I have to," Tyler said, his voice casual, but there was a sharp edge to his tone. "But I’m not going to stand by and hide while he’s... hovering over you."

Nicolette sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly as the tension drained from her posture. "Tyler," she said softly, her voice laced with a mix of exasperation and affection, "you don’t need to be jealous of Klaus."

Tyler’s expression hardened, but there was vulnerability in his eyes as he admitted, "I am jealous. But I’m also competitive."

Before she could respond, he suddenly swept her off her feet—literally. He picked her up in a bridal hold, spinning her around as laughter bubbled out of her despite herself.

"Tyler!" she giggled, swatting at him playfully.

"See? I told you I’d sweep you off your feet," he said with a grin, setting her down gently but keeping his arms around her.

For a moment, everything else faded away. This was the Tyler she loved—the caring, gentle, fiercely devoted man who always found a way to make her smile, even when the world felt like it was falling apart.

"I do love you, you know that, right?" she said softly, her voice almost trembling as her hands rested on his chest.

Tyler’s eyes softened, his hands gently brushing her waist. "I do know that," he murmured, leaning in to press a tender kiss to the tip of her nose. "And I love you too. Always."

A small smile tugged at her lips as she leaned up and brushed her lips against his in a gentle peck, lingering just long enough to feel the warmth of him. It was so simple, yet it made her chest ache.

She had missed this. She had missed him. The easy closeness, the way his presence felt like home. For a fleeting moment, everything felt right again—like the storm raging in her life had quieted, even if just for now.

"Dance with me, Lockwood?" Nicolette asked playfully, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

"You bet, Carlson," Tyler smirked, grabbing her hand and leading her to the dance floor. The night felt like something out of a fairytale—the music, the lights, the way he held her close. Everything felt perfect, almost too perfect.

They swayed to a smooth jazz number, their bodies moving effortlessly in sync. Nicolette smiled up at him, but Tyler’s expression suddenly shifted. His gaze fixed on something—or someone—over her shoulder.

"What's wrong, Ty?" she asked, turning to follow his line of sight. Her stomach dropped when her eyes met a pair of piercing blue ones. Klaus.

As always, his timing was impeccable. He stood there in a light suit, his hands in his pockets, exuding an air of calm authority. His gaze flickered from her to Tyler, still holding her protectively.

"Where have you been, mate?" Klaus asked, his voice smooth but laced with a dangerous edge.

"I just got back to town," Tyler replied, the nervousness in his voice unmistakable.

"That’s funny," Klaus said coldly, taking a step closer. "Because I don’t recall giving you permission to leave in the first place."

The tension between them was palpable, and for a moment, silence hung heavy in the air. Nicolette’s eyes darted between the two men. She could feel Tyler’s grip tighten slightly around her waist.

"You don’t mind if I cut in, do you, mate?" Klaus said, his tone sharp as he extended a hand toward Nicolette.

"Actually, we do mind," Nicolette shot back, her tone firm. She knew Tyler needed reassurance now more than ever. Klaus’s games were cruel, calculated, and exhausting.

But Klaus wasn’t looking at her. His cold, unyielding gaze was locked on Tyler.

"No, actually, it’s fine," Tyler said suddenly, his voice tight as he released his hold on her.

Nicolette frowned, turning to him. "Tyler, what—"

"It’s fine," Tyler repeated, his jaw tense.

Her chest tightened with frustration as Klaus stepped forward, his hand still extended. "Why do you always feel the need to prove you’re the alpha male?" she asked sharply, glaring at him.

Klaus smirked, tilting his head. "I don’t have to prove anything, love. I am the alpha male." His voice dripped with confidence, and his smirk deepened. "Come on. One dance. It wouldn’t be our first… and I promise, I won’t bite."

He extended his hand again, his eyes daring her.

Nicolette glanced back at Tyler, who averted his gaze, jaw clenched. Her heart ached, knowing she couldn’t fix this rift—not here, not now. With a hesitant sigh, she placed her hand in Klaus’s.

His smirk softened into something more dangerous, almost tender, as he led her back to the dance floor.

"I bet you loved the 1920s, Nicolette," Klaus mused, his voice low and smooth as he pulled her closer. One hand rested firmly on her lower back, the other gripping her hand with an intimacy that made her heart race despite herself. "Girls were reckless, sexy, fun... They danced until they dropped."

He smiled as he spun her around effortlessly, their faces just inches apart. She could feel his breath on her skin, the faint scent of bourbon lingering between them. But she refused to meet his gaze, her eyes locked over his shoulder. Looking into those piercing blue eyes would be a mistake—a dangerous one.

"I don’t suppose their dance partners had the same fate," she said coldly, her tone sharper than she intended.

Klaus chuckled, unbothered by her resistance. "You should be nicer to me, love," he said, his voice softening in a way that made her uneasy. "I’m leaving town tomorrow."

The words hit her like a punch to the chest, though she couldn’t understand why. Her head snapped up, her resolve faltering as she finally looked at him. Just yesterday he told her he won't just disappear from her life. And yet, here he was, telling her tomorrow he'll do exactly that.

Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out. She was too caught off guard, too unsure of what to feel. Confusion? Sadness? Relief? It was all muddled together in a haze.

Klaus’s smirk softened as he leaned in just a fraction closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I’d invite you to come with me, but we both know you’re not ready for that. Not yet." His eyes bore into hers, as if searching for something she wasn’t ready to give.

"Perhaps one day," he continued, his tone as hypnotic as ever, "whether it’s a year from now or a century, you’ll turn up at my door. And when you do, I’ll show you what the world truly has to offer."

Nicolette’s chest tightened as she stared at him, the words stirring something inside her she couldn’t quite name. Her gaze flickered over his shoulder to where Tyler stood, oblivious to the storm raging within her.

But Klaus’s breath against her skin pulled her back, his nearness intoxicating and infuriating all at once. She hated that he had this effect on her. She hated that, for a moment, she’d forgotten how cruel and manipulative he could be.

She scoffed, snapping herself out of the trance. It was meant to be dismissive, but Klaus’s expression darkened ever so slightly. His hand slipped away from hers, and the absence of his touch felt heavier than she expected.

"You mark my words," he said, his voice colder now, a hint of bitterness creeping in. "Small-town life. Small-town boy. That will never be enough for you."

Before she could respond, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing frozen in place. She watched him go, her mind racing with everything she wanted to say but couldn’t.

She should feel relief—this was what she wanted, wasn’t it? Klaus out of her life, so she could finally focus on Tyler and rebuild what they’d lost. But as she stood there, staring after him, she couldn’t shake the nagging ache in her chest.

He wasn’t the man she’d spoken to last night. No, this Klaus was as she always knew him to be—egocentric, manipulative, and cruel, throwing tantrums when the world didn’t bend to his will. She should be glad he was leaving.

And yet...

A part of her, the part she refused to acknowledge, almost wished she’d stopped him. Almost.

She didn’t even notice Tyler walking up to her until he spoke. His voice was low, tight with suppressed frustration. "I hate the way he looks at you."

Nicolette turned to face him, her expression unreadable. "You’re the one who made me dance with him," she replied, her tone colder than she intended.

Tyler’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away. "Yeah. I needed him to think I’m still sired to him, remember?" His words came with a bitterness that was impossible to miss.

Nicolette sighed and glanced back at the door Klaus had walked out of not long ago. "Doesn’t matter now," she said softly, almost to herself. "He’s leaving town tomorrow."

Tyler studied her as she spoke, his brows furrowing. He wasn’t blind—he saw the turmoil she was trying so hard to mask. She was conflicted, torn between relief and something else she wouldn’t dare admit.

He hated Klaus with every fiber of his being. Hated the way the hybrid’s presence disrupted everything, hated the way his name was a constant shadow over their relationship. But even as jealousy simmered beneath his skin, Tyler couldn’t bring himself to blame her entirely.

After all, Nicolette wasn’t like most people. She was over 500 years old, a force of nature in her own right—ancient, powerful, and more than a little intimidating. And as much as Tyler wanted to be the one who could keep up with her, he couldn’t deny that Klaus challenged her in ways no one else did.

But that didn’t mean it didn’t sting, watching her dance with him, seeing the way Klaus looked at her—as if she were something rare and untouchable.

Tyler exhaled sharply, shoving his own insecurities aside. He stepped closer, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. The warmth of his touch pulled her from her thoughts, and she looked up at him.

Her gaze softened, her lips curving into a small, affectionate smile. No matter how conflicted she felt about Klaus leaving, her love for Tyler was written all over her face. It was clear in the way she leaned into his touch, seeking comfort in his presence.

Tyler squeezed her shoulder gently, a silent reassurance that he was there, even if he didn’t have the answers. And in that moment, as she rested her head against him, the weight of Klaus’s departure felt a little lighter.

Nicolette wrapped her arms around Tyler, burying her face in his chest. His scent enveloped her, familiar and comforting, like a warm embrace she didn’t know she needed until this moment. Tyler’s cologne was different—clean, steady, grounding. Everything about him was different.

He wasn’t Klaus.

Tyler was safe where Klaus was dangerous. He was peace, while Klaus was chaos incarnate. Tyler offered stability, a sense of permanence she could hold onto in a world that seemed to shift beneath her feet every day. Klaus, on the other hand, was a storm—a whirlwind of unpredictability, pulling her in and leaving destruction in his wake.

And yet, that storm had left its mark on her.

But as she stood there in Tyler’s arms, her mind quieted. She knew, deep down, that Tyler was the right choice for her. He had always been the right choice for her. And she loved him for it—the way he anchored her, the way he made her feel like she belonged, even when the world seemed determined to pull her apart.

She held onto him a little tighter, as if by doing so, she could silence the doubts clawing at the edges of her mind. Whatever Klaus stirred within her, it didn’t matter. Tyler was here, and he loved her. And more than anything, she wanted to love him the way he deserved—with all of her, without hesitation, without looking back.

"We have a problem," a voice broke through the stillness, urgent and sharp. Nicolette opened her eyes to see Jeremy standing in front of them, his face pale and drawn.

"It's Elena," he said, breathless. "Esther took her."

Nicolette froze, her heart sinking like a stone in her chest. "Esther? That’s not possible," she stammered, her voice rising in panic. "She’s dead. Klaus told me himself!"

Jeremy shook his head grimly. "It’s worse than that, Nicolette. Esther’s been influencing everything, especially whatever’s happening to Alaric. She told Elena she had to come with her… to save him. We think she has him."

Nicolette’s knees buckled, and Tyler was there in an instant, catching her before she hit the ground. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, holding her up as the weight of the revelation threatened to crush her.

"Do we know where she took them?" Tyler demanded, his voice thick with urgency.

Jeremy looked down, frustration and helplessness written across his face. "Bonnie’s trying to track them now, but it’s not easy."

"I need to be there," Nicolette said, her voice trembling as she tried to steady herself. "I need to help. I need—"

Jeremy hesitated, his eyes darting to Tyler and then back at her. "I’m not sure that’s a good idea. You and Bonnie—"

"This is Ric we’re talking about!" Tyler snapped, cutting him off, his tone brooking no argument. "If Nicolette says she needs to be there, then she’s coming. Got it?"

Jeremy relented with a tight nod and led them to the classroom where Bonnie was hunched over a map, her brow furrowed in concentration. The room was filled with tension, everyone gathered—Damon and Stefan leaning against the wall, Matt pacing nervously, and Klaus standing off to the side.

As soon as Nicolette entered, leaning heavily on Tyler, Klaus’s head snapped in her direction. His piercing blue eyes darkened as they took her in—the vulnerable way she clung to Tyler for support, the desperation etched into every line of her face.

He wanted to go to her. To pull her into his arms, to tell her it would be alright, even if it was a lie. But he didn’t move. He couldn’t.

Instead, he stood rooted in place, his fists clenching at his sides. Klaus hated the way Tyler’s presence seemed to soothe her, the way she leaned into him as if he were her lifeline. But more than that, he hated himself for caring.

"Any progress?" Tyler asked, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

Bonnie didn’t look up. "I’m close," she said through gritted teeth. "But Esther’s magic… it’s old. Ancient. It’s not like anything I’ve ever dealt with before."

"We don’t have time for close," Damon said sharply, pushing off the wall. "If Esther has Elena and Ric, we need to act now."

"And do what?" Stefan shot back. "Have Matt and Jeremy wander around Mystic Falls hoping we stumble into them? Bonnie’s our only shot, so back off."

As the two brothers bickered, Nicolette felt Klaus’s gaze burning into her. She glanced up and met his eyes for the briefest moment, a flicker of something unspoken passing between them before she looked away.

"I’m going to find her," Bonnie said suddenly, her voice firm with determination. "Just… give me another minute."

The room fell into tense silence, the weight of what was at stake pressing down on all of them. Nicolette tightened her grip on Tyler’s arm, her mind racing with every terrible possibility.

And across the room, Klaus watched her, his jaw tight, his chest heavy with emotions he couldn’t name. He wasn’t the one she turned to. He wasn’t the one she leaned on. And it was killing him.

"Esther is fighting me, and it’s hard enough without certain people crowding me," Bonnie snapped, her words sharp as daggers. Her gaze flicked to Nicolette, a nasty edge to her glare that made Nicolette instinctively step back, her breath catching in her throat.

"Enough with the theatrics," Klaus interjected, his voice low and commanding, slicing through the tension like a blade. Tyler bristled, about to say something in Nicolette’s defense, but Klaus’s tone left no room for argument.

"My mother wouldn’t have this much power unless she’s channeling something," Klaus continued, his piercing eyes narrowing as he stepped closer to Bonnie.

"A hot spot," Bonnie said, her voice strained as she finally looked up from her spellwork.

Klaus froze, his jaw tightening as realization dawned on him. For a moment, his expression darkened, raw frustration flashing across his face. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me," he muttered under his breath, his hands clenching into fists.

Without hesitation, he turned to Damon and Stefan. "Get the humans ready," he barked, his tone leaving no room for debate. "I know where she is."

The room erupted into motion, tension crackling in the air as everyone moved with a renewed sense of urgency. Nicolette caught Klaus’s eye as he strode past her, his usual arrogance replaced with a grim determination.

Next chapter

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Mid Winter ~ Part 5

RadioApple❄️Human Au/Age Gap✨Top!Dom!Alastor

✨Divorced Dad!Lucifer❄️Explicit~

On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: a cucky quickie.

❄️✨☕✨❄️

☕ On Ao3✨Become my Arc Reader✨On Tumblr ☕

As Alastor and Vox entered the lodge restaurant, Lucifer's pencil stilled on his sketchpad. He watched intently as Vox gestured toward a cozy booth nestled in the corner.

"How about here?" Vox suggested, his voice eager. "Nice and private."

Alastor's smile remained fixed, but his eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. "I prefer a table, if you don't mind. The lighting is better."

Lucifer suppressed a smirk, recognizing Alastor's subtle rejection.

As the host led them to a table with those distinctive chairs that curved around with arms sliding under, Lucifer's gaze followed Alastor's graceful movements.

Vox slid into his seat without ceremony, while Alastor remained standing.

For a moment, Lucifer's heart leapt, half-expecting Alastor to pull out Vox's chair out of instinct.

But of course, he didn't.

Alastor always pulled out Lucifer’s chair, always with a flourish and a charm. He'd assumed it was just Alastor being a gentleman, but there was more to it.

But one day, after Lucifer had fumbled his way into asking, Alastor just told him.

The younger man chose his seat, his clothes, sometimes even his meals—because that was how Alastor showed his ownership over Lucifer.

Lucifer remembered the shiver that went through him as the brunette so casually confessed it. The realization that every gesture, every choice Alastor made was deliberate. Not just in the bedroom.

“Because you are mine.” Alastor said simply, casually scanning the season menu. “And I take care of what is mine.

Lucifer watched as Alastor finally took his seat, positioning himself with calculated precision. The contrast between Alastor's refined manners and Vox's casual demeanor couldn't have been starker.

"I do hope the table meets your exacting standards," Vox said, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

Alastor's smile widened. "Oh, it's utterly adequate. Now, shall we peruse the menu?"

Lucifer's pencil hovered over the sketchpad, his eyes darting between the blank page and the two figures seated across the lodge restaurant from his little booth.

Vox leaned forward eagerly. "You look ravishing this morning."

“You shameless flatterer.” Alastor said, flatly, despite his smile.

Lucifer's grip tightened on his pencil.

He forced his attention back to the sketchpad, making a few hesitant lines. But his gaze was inexorably drawn back to Alastor's elegant profile, the sharp angle of his jaw, the knowing glint in his eye.

"You're too kind," Alastor replied, his tone carefully neutral.

Lucifer's pencil stilled. He knew that tone—Alastor was already growing weary of his companion. A small, selfish part of Lucifer rejoiced at the thought.

As they perused the menus, the blonde’s mind wandered.

He remembered Alastor's encouragement to take up drawing again, his gentle insistence that Lucifer nurture his talents and hobbies. But how could he focus on landscapes or still lifes when the most captivating subject sat mere feet away?

Lucifer's pencil moved almost of its own accord, outlining the curve of Alastor's neck, the sharp cut of his cheekbones. He barely registered the words of the conversation floating over to him, too consumed by his furtive artistic study.

"You know, now that we have time, we could always talk about us performing," Vox was saying, his voice oily. “I think we’d be really, really good together.”

Alastor's laugh was like cut glass.

"My dear fellow, let's not get ahead of ourselves. We've only just sat down to brunch, after all."

As the waiter approached, Vox leaned forward with an air of confidence. "Two strawberry mimosas to start, please," he declared, shooting what he clearly thought was a charming smile at Alastor.

Lucifer couldn't help but snort, quickly disguising it as a cough. Anyone, who knew anything about Alastor, knew that he had a distaste for sweets. Licking honey off of Lucifer aside.

From his vantage point, he saw Alastor's smile tighten ever so slightly.

"Actually," Alastor interjected smoothly, "I’ll have black coffee." He turned to the waiter, his voice honeyed but firm. "It's going to be quite a long day with the gala, you see. And I have work to attend to beforehand."

Vox's face fell slightly, but he recovered quickly. "Of course, of course. How…responsible of you."

“I am nothing if not judicious .”

As the waiter departed, Lucifer found himself lost in thought.

He recalled the countless times Alastor had ordered for him in a restaurant—far from prying eyes. Discreet places where they could be together without fear of judgment or gossip from the university crowd.

It wasn't just about making choices for Lucifer.

Alastor ordered precisely what Lucifer would have chosen himself. He knew Lucifer's palate intimately, could anticipate his cravings before Lucifer himself was even aware of them.

Lucifer's reverie was broken by Vox's voice. "So, Alastor, tell me about your capstone. I'm dying to know more."

Alastor's reply was lost on Lucifer as he marveled at the stark difference between this stilted interaction and the effortless synchronicity he shared with Alastor.

Lucifer's mind drifted to a particularly memorable evening, a flush creeping up his neck at the recollection.

Alastor had invited himself over, when Lucifer was available, ostensibly to "get to know each other better."

But Alastor, ever the tactician, had something far more elaborate in mind.

"A little game," Alastor had purred, producing a sleek, curved toy. "To make our chat more…stimulating."

Soon, Lucifer found himself perched on the edge of his plush armchair, wrists and ankles bound to the furniture, with the vibrating wand nestled snugly inside him.

Its tip pressed firmly against his prostate. Alastor sat across from him, legs crossed, a small remote in hand.

"Now then," Alastor began, his voice silky. "Tell me, darling, what's your favorite season?"

"A-autumn," Lucifer stammered, caught off guard by the sudden question.

Alastor's smile widened he clicked the remote in his hand. The toy’s vibrations picked up a level, and Lucifer gasped, gripping the arms of the chair.

"Excellent. And your least favorite food?"

Lucifer struggled to form words as pleasure coursed through him. "Onions," he finally managed.

The vibrations decreased slightly, leaving Lucifer whimpering.

"Come now, surely you can elaborate," Alastor teased.

"It’s…it’s the texture. And the taste," Lucifer panted. "Overpowering."

The intensity of the vibrations ramped up again, drawing a moan from Lucifer's lips.

"Your ideal vacation?"

"B-beach," Lucifer breathed. "No, wait…m-mountains."

Alastor chuckled, turning the dial back down. "Indecisive, are we?"

“No! Mountains.” Lucifer protested, thinking of the chalet where they first met. As if his face couldn’t get ready.

The questions continued, each more personal than the last. Favorite color? Childhood pet? Guilty pleasure?

With each answer, Alastor adjusted the toy's intensity, keeping Lucifer teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

"Last movie that made you cry?"

Lucifer's mind raced, clouded with pleasure. "I…I can't…"

The vibrations slowed to a tantalizingly weak hum. Alastor leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "Focus, darling. I want to know everything about you."

"The…The Notebook," Lucifer finally gasped out.

“Oh I should have known.” Alastor chuckled. “Such a romantic you are.”

The toy roared back to life, drawing a cry from Lucifer's lips.

As the night wore on, Lucifer found himself revealing things he'd never told another soul—things that he didn’t even think mattered to anyone at all.

But Alastor took them all hungrily, all Lucifer’s petty little preferences laid bare under Alastor's intense gaze and skilled manipulations. Like they were invaliable information.

By the time Alastor asked his final question—"Who do you belong to?" - Lucifer was a quivering mess, every nerve ending alight with sensation.

"You," he moaned, back arching. "Only you, Alastor."

“Very good, angel.”

Dragged back to the present, Lucifer observed the awkward dance unfolding before him. Fuck, he couldn’t get his head out of the gutter.

Must be the damn plug.

Vox leaned forward, his voice syrupy. "You must let me take you to this little place I know. The chef there—"

"Perhaps another time," Alastor cut in smoothly, his smile never wavering. "I'm quite particular about my dining experiences."

Vox's face fell, but he quickly rallied. "Well, I can show you some unique experiences."

Lucifer cringed inwardly at Vox's transparent desperation.

The man oscillated wildly between fawning admiration and poorly concealed entitlement, as if his status should impress Alastor.

"Oh I doubt that,” Alastor replied from behind his menu. “My tastes are…quite singular, these days." There was a glint in his eye that Lucifer recognized all too well.

Alastor leaned back in his chair, the picture of relaxed charm.

"Tell me, Vox, what do you find most fascinating about your major?"

Vox's eyes lit up at the opportunity to expound on his favorite subject—himself. He launched into a monologue, gesticulating wildly as he spoke.

"Oh, where to begin? I've always been fascinated by the power of media to shape perceptions. You see, we're not just creating content; we're crafting narratives that can change the world!" He paused dramatically, clearly expecting Alastor to be impressed.

Alastor's smile remained fixed, but his eyes glazed over slightly as Vox continued.

"Take social media, for instance. It's revolutionized the way we communicate! I mean, can you imagine a world without hashtags? Without viral sensations?" Vox chuckled at his own wit. ”The synergy there is just…explosive!"

Lucifer watched as Alastor's fingers drummed on the wrap around arm of his chair. Under the table, but unmistakable in his lack of enthusiasm.

The waiter taking their food order was a welcome reprieve, but as soon as the man was gone, Vox plowed on.

Utterly oblivious.

"And don't get me started on influencer marketing! It's the future, I tell you. Why, just the other day, I was telling my professor about my groundbreaking idea.”

"Fascinating perspective," Alastor said, his tone conveying anything but fascination.

He reached for his pocket, withdrawing his phone.

Lucifer's eyebrows shot up. In all their time together, he'd never seen Alastor use his phone during a meal. During a movie. During any moment they were meant to be facing one another.

The brunette always gave the fullness of his attention to whoever he was talking to.

This was the height of rudeness, completely out of character for the flawlessly mannered young man.

Just as Lucifer was pondering this oddity, a sudden vibration coursed through him—making him drop his pencil and nearly making a casualty out of his water glass. His eyes widened, a small gasp escaping before he could stifle it.

The plug inside him, the one Alastor had insisted he wear to brunch, was now humming low and slow, but very much alive.

Alastor. Did not tell him. That. It. Vibrated.

Heat rushed to Lucifer’s face. They’d talked about it, messing around in a secluded booth in a dark resturant. And he knew his partner’s fondness for toys. And tricks.

His gaze snapped to Alastor, who had set his phone on the chair arm under the table, and was idly tapping at his screen. The brunette didn’t look at him, but a small smirk was playing at the corners of his mouth.

Lucifer's breath hitched as he watched Alastor's long, elegant fingers dance.

With each tap, the vibrations inside him pulsed and changed rhythm, perfectly synchronized with the movement of those pianist's hands. Alastor's grin widened almost inconspicuously, his eyes flicking up to meet Lucifer's for just a moment—a moment long enough to confirm that he knew exactly what effect he was having.

Lucifer shifted in his seat, trying to maintain his composure. His pencil trembled slightly against his sketchpad as he attempted to focus on his drawing.

The moment he ducked his head, a long tremor pulsed through the toy.

Oh, so that was the game they were playing.

Alastor was bored. Obviously because Vox was boring. And Lucifer was his entertainment.

Lucifer gripped his pencil tightly, forcing himself to focus on the sketchpad before him.

He traced the outline of Alastor's profile, desperately trying to ignore the insistent vibrations pulsing through his core.

Across the room, Vox droned on, oblivious to the silent battle of wills unfolding right in front of his nose.

"And then I said to the professor, 'But what about the engagement metrics?'"

Alastor nodded politely, his fingers never stilling on his phone screen. The vibrations intensified, sending a jolt through Lucifer that nearly made him gasp aloud.

He bit his lip hard, his knuckles white around the pencil.

Lucifer's eyes darted to Alastor, silently pleading.

The brunette tapped out a new rhythm. Short, sharp pulses that made Lucifer's toes curl in his shoes.

Determined not to give in, Lucifer returned to his sketch with renewed vigor.

He focused on capturing the sharp line of Alastor's jaw, the curve of his lips.

Anything to distract from the pleasure building within him.

But Alastor wasn't about to let him off so easily. The vibrations slowed to an agonizing crawl, then suddenly surged.

Lucifer's pencil skittered across the page, leaving a jagged line. He coughed to cover his sharp intake of breath.

"Are you alright over there, sir?" A waiter called as he passed.

"Fine," Lucifer managed, his voice strained. "Just…swallowed wrong."

Alastor's eyes gleamed with amusement.

He made a point of reaching over, taking up his water glass and taking an elegant sip, his lips still on the phone screen.

Lucifer got the message, he was supposed to drink.

The blonde reached for his glass with a wobbling hand, nearly spilling it as a particularly intense vibration caught him off guard.

Damn him.

Lucifer took a long sip, using the moment to compose himself.

As he set the glass down, his eyes met Alastor's. The brunette raised an eyebrow, a silent challenge in his gaze.

Lucifer set his jaw, determined not to break.

But Alastor was relentless.

He varied the intensity, the rhythm, the pattern of vibrations. Sometimes quick and sharp, sometimes slow and lingering. Each new sensation threatened to undo Lucifer completely.

Sweat beaded on Lucifer's brow as he fought to maintain his composure. His breath came in short, shallow gasps.

He gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles white.

Across the room, Alastor casually sipped his coffee, never missing a beat in his minimal conversation with Vox.

But his eyes kept flicking to Lucifer, drinking in every twitch, every suppressed groan. Every uncomfortable shift along the leather booth.

The memory of their conversation flooded back to him. Alastor's low, velvety voice in his ear: "When we do this, darling, we'll find somewhere more... private. The thrill of public, yes, but with a modicum of discretion. Perhaps a trip to the restroom?"

Lucifer's eyes darted toward the bathroom doors, then back to Alastor.

He was still chatting amiably with Vox, but his fingers never ceased their maddening dance on the phone screen.

The vibrations intensified, and Lucifer had to stifle a moan.

Oh, fuck, not here. He’d never live it down if Alastor made him come in public.

Suddenly, Lucifer realized why Alastor dressed him in a sweater that fell nearly down to his thighs—despite making fun of his wardrobe choices early that morning.

Alastor's voice cut through the haze of Lucifer's arousal.

"If you'll excuse me for a moment," he said smoothly to Vox, rising from his seat.

As he turned, his eyes locked with Lucifer's. A silent command.

Lucifer's breath caught in his throat. He watched, transfixed, as Alastor strode purposefully towards the restroom.

The plug inside him pulsed insistently, urging him to follow.

With unsteady hands, Lucifer set down his sketchpad and stood, hoping his state wasn't obvious to the other diners, plucing at the hem of his sweater.

He walked as casually as he could manage, his heart pounding in his chest.

As he pushed open the bathroom door, a hand grabbed his wrist, yanking him into a stall.

Alastor's face was inches from his own, eyes dark with desire.

"Took you long enough, darling," Alastor purred, pressing Lucifer against the wall. His hands were everywhere at once, unbuckling, unzipping.

"Alastor," Lucifer gasped, "someone could—"

“Do you want to—”

“No, green. Please green.” Lucifer plead.

Alastor silenced him with a searing kiss. "Then you'd best be quiet, hadn't you?" he murmured against Lucifer's lips.

All at once, Alastor hoisted Lucifer up, wrapping the blonde's legs around his waist. The new position drove the plug deeper, making Lucifer bite back a moan.

"That's it," Alastor encouraged, one hand snaking between them to grasp Lucifer's cock. Rolling his hips against the blonde, pushing the toy even deeper.

"Do you have any idea…" Alastor panted against his covered neck, like he was as worked up as Lucifer. “How difficult it was to focus on that prick’s idle prattling…”

Alastor was kissing him again. Silencing them both for a long moment while Lucifer clung to his thin frame.

“While you were over his shoulder. Blushing and moaning so wantonly?”

“But…you…” Lucifer whined, unable to focus on much more than the hand on his cock in the toy in his ass. “You made me, do that.”

“Yes, and?” Alastor said, tilting his head with that wicked grin of his.

Lucifer's world exploded in a flash of white-hot pleasure as he came, biting down on Alastor's shoulder to muffle his cry.

Alastor's lips and teeth were at his neck, sucking and nipping with feverish intensity.

The overstimulation was exquisite torture, waves of sensation crashing over him.

Alastor kissed him greedily, swallowing every sound.

But as the aftershocks subsided, the vibrations from the plug became too much.

Lucifer squirmed uncomfortably, his oversensitive body protesting the continued stimulation. "Ah, getting…getting red," he gasped out.

Alastor's eyes widened in realization. "Ah, my apologies. " He murmured, fumbling for his phone to switch off the device.

"Are you alright?"

Lucifer sagged against him, letting Alastor hold him up. Least he could do, after wearing him out like that.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," he reassured, nuzzling into the crook of Alastor's neck. "Just a bit much there at the end."

Alastor's arms tightened around him, one hand gently stroking his hair. "My poor thing," he cooed, pressing soft kisses to Lucifer's temple. "Let me make it up to you."

Lucifer melted into the comfort, greedily soaking up Alastor's affection. This gentleness was a side of Alastor few ever saw, and Lucifer treasured these moments.

"You're forgiven," he murmured, a contented sigh escaping him. "Though I may need some extra pampering later."

“You might not have to wait until later.” Alastor cupped Lucifer's face in his hands, his hazel eyes searching. "Darling, I need you to go upstairs to our room now," he said softly, his thumb caressing Lucifer's cheek. "Can you do that for me?"

Lucifer leaned into the touch, still slightly dazed. "What about you?" he asked, his brow furrowing.

A shadow of irritation flickered across Alastor's features. "I have to deal with the prattling prick," he said, his voice taking on a harder edge. "But I promise I'll join you soon."

Lucifer whined at the idea of losing Alastor to Vox right now, even for just the charade.

“Don't worry, my dear. I'll make quick work of him." He leaned in, capturing Lucifer's lips in a possessive kiss.

As they parted, Lucifer wobbled as he was set back on his feet, and deftly cleaned up and redressed.

"Don't keep me waiting too long," he murmured.

Alastor's laugh was low and dangerous. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of it. Now go, before I'm tempted to forget our reputations altogether."

Lucifer nodded, reluctantly untangling himself from Alastor's embrace.

As he slipped out of the bathroom stall, he couldn't help but hope that Alastor utterly dismantled Vox. But quickly. The sooner Lucifer had him back, the better.

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[recitedemise]

He always knew this moment was to come. It was inevitable, as sure as the cresting of the sun in their mornings or the chilled, troubled tells of winter after fall. Gale, short of breath and exceedingly short on magic, is but a mortal, feeble man on hemorrhaging time. He had went about his days, that terrible orb sucking at his strength. Feeding it, he'd discovered, had a sort of diminishing pleasure... In fact, that fire that claims him is but heightening further. Hells. It is no longer tamable. It can no longer calm.

Gale looks at his amulet, that jewel nestled inside something pearlescent and as radiant as an opal. For weeks, he'd taken to study, a study of a nature with some unspeakable strain. Knocking the pole of her tent and peering inside, perhaps she'd discern this with the tells of his weariness... But, there: how humble his smile, and how tender his eyes. Gale, what's at last pulled you from your books? "This is an evening fashioned for more than one if ever I've seen one. May I come in?" he starts companionably, a grey hair made all the starker in the gleaming starlight. "Say, for all the dark of the shadows you would drape upon yourself—and it is a charming shade on you, to be sure—I've been of the mind that the opposite is just as flattering. I've seen how the stars would rally in your presence, Serana. If ever there's to be a marrying of colors, it would be in the way they'd find you." Too much, Gale. He laughs, good humored apparently, and gathers himself again. "It's no mistake that you find comfort in the night. That said, I've wondered, it must grow terribly cold some nights. It's a far cry from the mornings, isn't it?"

@cldhrbour.