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the-mad-starker · 6 months ago

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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)

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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.

#starker #madstarker writes #nff #fanfic #omegaverse #starkercest #alpha tony stark #omega peter parker #intersex omegas #moody mads

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secfics · 2 months ago

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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!

#starker reclist #check the tags #starker #starker fic #starker fic rec #starker fic recs #favourite starker fanfics #starker fanfic

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anachilles · 9 months ago

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drive the dark clouds far away ☁

If anyone on Earth deserved tenderness, it was Gale Cleven. Throughout the years they’d known each other, he had dropped little morsels of his history into John’s lap, one piece at a time. It was almost off-hand, how he’d do it. Like he somehow hadn’t expected John to capture every one, savour them, commit them to memory and file them away in a special box in the back of his mind. To take them out as he did every so often and piece them together again, wondering about what young Gale had been before he was John’s ‘Buck’, so he had an entire landscape laid before him of what made Gale Cleven who he was. Or: Winter falls in Stalag Luft III, Gale's sick, and John has feelings about it all. -> read here on AO3 <-

A Nazi prisoner of war camp was hardly a place one would ever want to be, at any time or for any reason.

If Bucky had the choice, however, he sure as hell wouldn’t particularly choose to be in a Nazi prisoner of war camp in the middle of what was turning out to be a brutal Germanic winter.

It came on so suddenly, too, or at least that’s what it felt like. One day, the entire camp had been bathed in incandescent autumn sunshine. The kind that illuminated every leaf on every tree, lit the sky up so bright you could barely look at it, and sparkled off the surface of the puddles left behind from the early morning rain. The next day, and the next, and the next after that, it was like someone had gone and thrown a blanket over the sun itself. Everything was grey. Everything was dark. Everything around them started to wilt, to shed, to die.

For every degree the temperature dropped, for every shiver that raced up their spines in the dead of night, and for every dull, drizzly day that inched them through November and closer to Christmas, morale had started to plummet. It crept up on them and burrowed in like a degenerative disease, infiltrating their ranks one by one and slowly, gradually, started to break them down. Tired minds began to conjure bittersweet memories of good food, good music and the encompassing warmth of their families thousands of miles away, such imaginings only making their reality even starker. Anywhere at all outside the perimeter of the compound was beginning to feel like a whole other plane of existence.

At this point in the season, even the hours of daylight they were afforded were seemingly war-rationed. Dark moods, irritability and the icy tendrils of hopelessness had started to permeate the stalag as the sunsets came altogether too quick, and the daytimes were overwhelmingly bleak.

That night, Bucky shifted awkwardly in his bunk, trying to get comfortable in spite of the threadbare cushioning underneath him. It would have been pitch dark save for the slightest crack someone had left in the black-out curtains, letting moonlight spill in and make vague silhouettes out of the sleeping men around him. Several of them were snoring to various degrees of severity (God help them when Demarco properly got going), bed frames periodically creaking, someone even seemed to be humming slightly in their sleep.

The incessant background noise wasn’t the problem, though; the opposite, actually. From basic training, through flight school, then all the way to the war, Bucky had spent far too long now in shared quarters through every point in his military career to be able to sleep surrounded by absolute silence. In fact, if he closed his eyes and concentrated real hard he could probably have imagined himself being back in the barracks at Thorpe Abbotts right then, far, far away from this Kraut hell hole. Okay, the food wasn’t much better there, he’ll admit, but at least there was a stocked bar, actual showers, and no Nazi goons on a hairpin trigger when it came to pointing rifles at them for doing the sum total of jack shit too hard for their liking.

Bucky’s foot bounced in place as he stared a hole into the wooden slats of the bunk above him. Tension pulsed behind his eyes. When he exhaled, his breath materialised as a humid cloud, before dissipating again into the dark. Rain hammered against the window that was definitely draughty. His fingers were so cold they were starting to go white at the tips.

A sharp gasp suddenly pierced through the din, and in the same beat Bucky instinctively snapped towards it, the whirlpool in his brain suddenly stilling, sharpening down to a single point; like someone had ripped the plughole out of a bathtub. In the middle bunk directly across the way, in the shadows of the darkened cabin, the outline of Buck’s body jerked forward with a strangled little click… a pause… and then another. It was an oddly vulnerable sound, the action was chased by a heavy sniffle, and Bucky let out another long, visible breath.

With the insidious chill of deep winter now catching at their heels, illness was quickly becoming another looming problem with their fucked up sleep-away camp experience in the Glorious Third Reich. The often sub-zero temperatures, paired with a widespread lack of proper food, sleep, and provisions, as well as with them living on top of each other in such poorly built cabins (Bucky’d seen more insulation built into the damn backyard chicken coops he’d been roped into helping his neighbours build back home as a kid), meant that it was rife. Take a walk from one side of the camp to the other, and every third guy was coughing and spluttering with something.

It wasn’t even stuff that would necessarily be anything to worry about in any other time or place. Anywhere else in the modern age they lived in, it would be the usual winter crud that went around every year. Stuff that’d have them downing cough syrup, maybe a bit of hot whiskey, and being fussed over a bit by wives, girlfriends, or moms. Here, though? Despite how the men may joke about it to try and outrun the worry, lurking in a darkened corner of the room was an unavoidable reality that if the cold managed to sneak down into your chest and take root, lay you up with a fever you just can’t shake, in these conditions… well. Who knew what could happen?

There were some guys with a decent amount of medical training who acted as makeshift ‘doctors’ in a makeshift ‘hospital’ on site. Although, naturally as airmen, that leant more towards snapping back in dislocated shoulders, setting broken bones, and patching up bullet and/or shrapnel wounds well enough to get the victim to solid ground alive. There was little, if any, actual medicine to go around.

Before, it had been an abstract, underlying kind of concern, one he’d glance at every now and again before turning away, putting it out of his head again. Let himself be distracted by something else, not that there was much else to distract yourself with in here.

But then it was Buck.

Now, John’s body thrummed with a twitchy, nervous beat underneath his skin, some sort of momentum growing within him as his heart rate picked up and an internal debate played out in his head; one he’d been having with himself for several nights now. After only a handful of seconds from when he’d turned around in the first place though, there was another noise, something delicate and unplaceable. Whether it was the sound of teeth chattering or a stone rattling against the wall of the cabin, or whatever else it could be, it had John dropping down on his feet and gathering up his blanket, wincing as the chill of the room enveloped him all at once.

Crossing to Gale’s bedside, John wordlessly and unceremoniously chucked the blanket over the other man’s body, before leaning a hand against the wooden frame of the upper bunk above Gale’s own. He was curled up tight in on himself, arms stiff as they crossed over his chest, as if he was trying to gather any heat to be had around himself and keep it there by force.

John watched, and waited, as Gale sluggishly unfurled himself a little and turned around to face him, expression sleepy. His face caught the moonlight, something jarring in John’s chest at how pale he looked.

“Bucky?” he asked softly, his already rumbling voice now gravelly and shot to pieces. “Did I wake you?”

Unable to help himself, John heaved out a disbelieving huff of laughter, his voice dropping into a murmur “What, with your bizarre, near-perfectly silent sneezing? Yeah, you did, actually.” Gale rolled his eyes.

“Please, just try to be a bit more considerate to the other guests at this fine establishment.” Success curled fleeting warmth within John when he got a hint of a smile out of the other man. It was the first he’d seen from him in nearly two days, and the twitch of his mouth alleviated an increment of pressure in John’s chest he hadn’t even noticed he’d been holding. “God bless you, by the way.”

It would’ve sounded like a taunt if it wasn’t so fond.

“What do you want then, Bucky?”

In pursuit of cutting to the damn chase, because this was all fun and games but now John really was freezing his balls off, he replied “It’s too cold now for any of us to be sleeping by ourselves.”

At that, Gale’s rheumy gaze sharpened, his eyes scanning the room. John briefly followed them as they took in nearly every other man in the cabin having broken off into a pair to bunk down with for the winter.

“It’s okay, Buck,” John supplied, loosening the valve and letting sincerity bleed into his tone even as he lowered it. This is probably the most ‘okay’ we’ve ever been or ever will be to do this where people can see it.

Memories rise unbidden then; awkward, inexperienced fumbles and a hurried kiss in the barely-lit supply closet off an aircraft hangar in Texas while all the other cadets were asleep. Hidden away in Bucky’s short-lived Air Exec office while he still had it, a rare moment of stolen solitude behind a blessedly locked door with frosted windows. The one time they’d dared risk venturing into the woods at Thorpe Abbotts in the dead of night. They were more experienced by then, but somehow only more repressed and desperate for having now known the other’s touch, but having had to go without it for so long.

“Those RAF pricks were right about one thing for certain.”

“What’s that?”

“You were getting too handsy” Gale had said, voice edged in grit, grabbing John’s wrists and yanking them away behind his back.

In the next breath however, John shrugged, adding “And, well, you have my blanket now. So you either scoot over, or I go back to my bunk and freeze to death. Your choice.”

Gale levelled him with a withering look that only made John want to smile in return, but after a brief contemplative moment, a pregnant pause and a steely gaze edged in wary scrutiny, the caginess seemed to melt out of him, like he physically couldn’t hold onto it any longer. He acquiesced with no more fuss about it, shifting closer towards the wall and pulling up the blankets to invite John in. It was a bit of a tight squeeze, these bunks barely made to fit one fully grown man, never mind two, but suppose that was kind of the point of this, wasn’t it?

John hopped up onto the bunk, the wood groaning slightly under their combined weight, and took the liberty of adjusting Gale a little further onto his side so that he could bracket right in tightly to his back. The length of Gale’s body seemed to slot perfectly against the curve of his own. Back to chest, thigh to thigh, shin to calf. As if by muscle memory, underneath the blankets John’s hand traced a reverent trail down the length of his side, the feeling warm and honey-sweet with familiarity. As was the way he felt Gale relax into his touch, his head turning a tantalising fraction of an inch back towards his face. John’s next exhale came more comfortably than any had in weeks, despite how his heartbeat kicked a little bit harder against his ribcage. Tracing upwards from where his hand had wandered to Gale’s thigh, because he’s nothing if not a goddamn hedonist, John indulged himself with another handful of stolen seconds to touch, to rub and knead affectionately at the curve of Gale’s waist.

This place was hell. A labyrinth of endless days filled with grey, bleak, monotonous nothingness on top of a vague, torturous hope that one day will be the right one; that that day they’ll escape. Or be liberated. They’d been keeping up to date with the state of the war on their homemade contraband radio, listened to and dutifully recited by Gale every night as they forced down boiled garden scraps swimming in dishwater broth. They couldn’t be long now from the invasion of Europe, they tried to reassure each other. It proved enough to get the men out of bed every day and keep them going through the drudgery.

John, though; if he had this. If he had Buck solid and tangible and living and breathing before his eyes and underneath his fingertips, he’d find his way out. The embers that sparked to life in his chest with the feeling of just being near him would light his way out.

A shallow cough sounded from somewhere across the room, and John’s hand froze, even under the shroud of the blankets. Despite arguing the logic of this himself only minutes ago, of why it was ‘okay’, the sudden reminder of the ambient presence of the other men in the room amplified then. John couldn’t help but be aware of it, a shred of unease fluttering to life in his chest.

Swallowing it down, and simply unable to truly pull himself away anyway, he retired his wandering touch and looped his arm around Gale’s middle. His broad hand splayed wide across his chest as he brought the other man impossibly closer. John could feel just how cold he was, even through the fabric of his clothes. That was worrying enough in and of itself, but shock jolted through him like lightning as Gale’s hand brushed his own.

“Jesus, Buck! You’re like ice,” John ground out, reaching to grab it before Gale could move it away again. He knew he likely wasn’t much better, all-too-aware of the pervasive and unshakable chill infecting his own fingers. Whatever last vestiges of warmth he may have had remaining within himself though, hidden away in some forgotten or unreachable nook or cranny, he’d give to Gale in a heartbeat if he could. Even if he couldn’t, he’d try regardless.

Gale’s fingers flexed around his own, joining them, before bringing them up to his mouth and huffing a breath of hot air over John’s hand. The breath caught a little in his throat though, triggering a bubbling of thick, stilted coughs. “You are too.”

John laughed, but there was no humour in it. “Yeah, no shit. We all are…” he said, his tone softening then, even as he prodded the back of Gale’s knee with his own “...but you’re sick. So I’d argue it’s definitely more important to make you not so.”

He felt Gale’s body squirm a little uncomfortably in place against him, shaking his head a little, tilting it down. “It’s just a cold, John.”

“Yeah, for now. But you don’t…” The whispered words fall between them with a heavy clang, echoes of meaning slipping through where maybe they hadn’t been intended. John’s eyes were trained on the back of Gale’s head in the dark, his forehead resting on the other man’s golden crown. Even then, John felt more than saw him stiffen, then pull away as much as he physically could from John’s vice-like hold. He pitched forward with two more clumsily pinched back sneezes, grumbling in annoyance as he then groped underneath the pillow, eyes teary and nose dripping, for the now-worn handkerchief he’d been holding there.

Yeah, it wasn’t exactly convenient, particularly at a time such as this, that they all tended to only have the one on them that they’d had when they went down.

Oh, it was so uncharacteristically inelegant it was actually endearing. A peek behind the curtain at Gale Cleven, the mere mortal. Happy to let himself be sidetracked from his worry for a moment, John dipped into one of the inner pockets of his long coat and pulled out his own handkerchief, gallantly offering it over.

Gale’s head swivelled back, his gaze questioning, and John shrugged. “It’s clean, I promise,” he said, though his eyebrows drew together in sudden contemplation. “Well… mostly. I might’ve washed up with it earlier today…” He made a show of trailing off, pulling the collar of his sweater up over his face and taking an experimental sniff down into it. “Ah, no, definitely not, actually. You’re all good.”

Thoroughly used to his antics, Gale didn’t even blink, though his chapped lips did pull up into a fleetingly small, slow, reluctant sort of smile, before eventually taking it from him. He let the fabric linger in his fingers for a mysterious extra beat, his thumb swiping once over it, before putting it to use. When he did speak, his voice was completely mangled with congestion. “Well, beggars can’t be choosers. Probably would have taken it anyway.”

John winced, the levity leaking back out of his countenance like a faulty fuel line. “You sound awful, Buck,” he mumbled seriously, “C’mon, lie back down.”

Though he dismissed the concern with a telling look, Gale complied and they fell into an easy sort of silence. Their breaths, underlined by the tangible rise and fall of John’s chest against the other man’s back, fell into the slow, steady rhythm held by the rest of the room. Even after a handful of minutes he could tell Gale wasn’t sleeping, though. Neither was he, evidently, feeling like a live wire despite how exhausted and perpetually bone-weary his body had become. He was tired, probably needed to sleep, but at the same time didn’t want to miss a second of their contact now that they had established it. He didn’t want to close his eyes, open them again, and it be morning time again so damn soon, that chasm of emptiness in the space between them returning all too quickly.

If only to give himself something to do, have somewhere to put that gnawing awareness, John gave into temptation. Ducking his head, he pressed his lips to the nape of Gale’s neck. Just once, at first. Experimental; his eyes flitting up briefly to catch Gale’s reaction. With the sight of his lips dropping further open around a sudden inhale he tried to conceal, John took the silent approval and continued in his work. One kiss here, another one there, he marked a languid trail down the column of Gale’s neck and back up again, an answering shiver racing up the length of his spine when John’s mouth teased that one little spot under the hinge of his jaw. It was addictive; and what was Bucky Egan if not an addict?

Having thoroughly surveyed all that he could reach, John’s hand slipped down and palmed at Gale’s hip, urging him to turn back over and face him. When he did, his cheeks were flushed. His eyes still heavy, but now with pupils blown and trained right on him. They pinned John in place, made the cabin, and the camp, and all of Germany, all of Europe itself disappear around him. As if pulled by magnets and with the weight of the last couple of months bearing down on him, John moved to kiss him properly. His eyes snapped open when his mouth met the soft pressure of cold, unyielding fingertips, mere centimetres from the IP.

There was something brittle now in Gale’s gaze when John looked again, that feeling scooped back up and the lid put back on the jar. It still shone through though, muted but simmering away under the surface. Behind the shield of darkness and John’s broad body, Gale’s hand twisted, cupping John’s jaw as his thumb delicately swiped across the seam of his lips. “You’re gonna end up getting sick with me lying here breathing in your face all night.”

John let out a huff of annoyance, exaggerated maybe just a little bit in the hopes of making Gale smile again. “No, I won’t.”

“Yes, you will.”

Despite his amusement at the childish back and forth, John relented, changing course. “Okay, well, if it’s doomed to happen anyway I’d rather it was from you than any of the rest of these clowns, so…” He peeled Gale’s hand from his jaw, his phantom touch lingering in a way he hoped remained corporeal right through until the morning at the very least. In the same fluid movement he turned it around and mouthed his knuckles, then with a heart so full it could’ve burst right out of him, leaned in, slowly, carefully, kissed him anyway.

Oh, he could feign all the long-suffering exasperation he wanted to, but John knew the truth of the matter in how the tense lines of the other man’s body loosened under his hold then, how he nudged himself closer in the new position to close out any hint of a gap and the biting chill that could and would find its way through.

God knew he needed it, too. John wasn’t sure if it was just him that noticed the trail of signs left in Gale’s wake wherever he went throughout the day, subtle or not, that gave away just how crappy he was feeling. Sitting in the same room as the rest of them but far enough away at any given point. The way he’d pinch the bridge of his nose, presumably against the pressure there and the ache behind his eyes. How his chest sometimes seized with the need to cough that had been swallowed back. How he’d been keeping it all held back behind a tight jaw and clenched teeth, a brave face on for the sake of their men and the general morale. Whether he’d choose it or not, Gale knew he was a symbol, much like John, much like any other group’s commanding officers. He had a responsibility.

Now, though, in whatever new strange semi-privacy they’d stumbled upon and could seemingly kid themselves for a few hours they were alone within, it started to crumble.

In the extended silence, with sleep still out of reach, John couldn’t help but reflect on all of that. Right down to the very position he’d found him in when he gathered the nerve to approach his bunk, Gale was so damn protective of himself. Fiercely so, at times, that stoic, guarded veneer serving as a concrete wall between himself and the sometimes inexplicable chaos of the world. When they first met, oh so many moons ago now, John had been tempted to simply assume he lived with a stick up his ass and leave it at that.

Maybe it was because he was pretty in a way that his teenage self didn’t quite have the vernacular to understand yet, maybe it was the quiet echo of his mom’s voice in the back of his head scolding him about not judging a book by its cover, maybe it was divine intuition. But whatever it was, Bucky would thank whatever may have been out there in the sky looking down on them that, for whatever reason, he’d chosen instead to throw all of his chips in on Gale Cleven and insist on knowing him anyway. To push and prod and tease and question and irritate and somehow charm his way into the other boy’s life, into the most genuine, heartfelt friendship he’d ever had, and then further into, well, this. One that allowed him to pull on the thread of the image of himself that Gale presented to the world, bit by bit, without reprisal.

Throughout the years they’d known each other, Gale had dropped little morsels of his history into John’s lap, one piece at a time. It was almost off-hand, how he’d do it. Like he somehow hadn’t expected John to capture every one, savour them, commit them to memory and file them away in a special box in the back of his mind. To take them out as he did every so often and piece them together again, wondering about what young Gale had been before he was John’s ‘Buck’ and how he wished he could’ve been there for him, so he had an entire landscape laid before him of what made Gale Cleven who he was.

If he was stubborn and headstrong and fiercely protective of himself, fine. He had every right to be; had made himself that way out of necessity. Thinking about the circumstances of how and why made John’s heart ache something stupid just to think about, so he made a point to try not to.

If anyone on Earth deserved tenderness, it was Gale Cleven. For having taken the shitty hand life had dealt him and still come out the other side so kind and compassionate, to have taken all the hurt and the loneliness, bottled it up, and somehow turned it into white-knuckled determination to do better with himself. For having made his life something, even if his ambition was originally rooted in defiance against what had been laid out for him. For having the hordes of men in the squadron he presides over look upon him with deferential reverence, for giving them hope by making himself look invincible. Truly uncatchable, even despite having been caught.

If it ever got to be too much, though, especially in here, where home seemed so far away, and the idea of safety such an abstract, unreachable concept, Bucky would shoulder it. Without a second thought, every time. Gale Cleven deserved tenderness, and by hell was John Egan going to do everything he could to give it to him.

John had his moments when he let the darkness in; indulged in thoughts of disillusionment, found himself questioning any number of aspects of what they were doing, how they were doing it, and for what. One thought always ended up shing through the murky din though, a guiding light that pretty much always managed to pull John back in its direction. Back on path.

So long as he and Gale Cleven were on the same side, he knew he was in the right spot.

“Bucky?” His voice reached out, barely there and so soft John could’ve denied even hearing it at all. “You still awake?”

John’s eyes fluttered open, readjusting to the dark again as he blinked away the cobwebs from the sort of half-sleep he’d drifted off into. He hummed in affirmation. “What d’ya want then, Buck?” he echoed from earlier, chucking the other man’s own words back at him with a teasing, heavy-lidded smirk.

The question hung still and charged in the air between them as Gale hesitated, teetering on the brink of losing the nerve to ask whatever it was he wanted. Surely he should know by now, with John being the blatant and irredeemable sucker that he is, could ask quite literally anything of him and he’d find a way to grant him it?

Gale looked like his mind was half somewhere else, eyes unable to fully meet John’s own, and still seemingly debating whether to continue or not right up until the moment the words left his lips. “Y’know what, um… what this needs right now?”

John’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

When it came, it came small and vulnerable. “...vocals,” he said, before catching himself, the word ghosting across John’s chin. “Very, very quiet vocals.” Gale’s hand wound around John’s back, before slipping up the back of his shirt to flatten against John’s freckled back.

John couldn’t help the smile unwinding across his face, eyes sparkling in the dark with sudden mirth. “From me?” he questioned, infused with faux-disbelief. He made a show of pressing the back of his hand up under his dirty blond bangs to Gale’s forehead, half-teasing about checking for fever, but breathing a very real sigh of relief when he found little evidence of one yet.

“I mean, I did always say you would all eventually come around and see me for the true musical talent that I am. I’m just glad it’s finally being acknowledged, so I won’t hold the delay against you.”

Gale rolled his eyes, though it drew a smile out of him at the same time, even so.

He may have had no hope of being privy to all that went on inside Gale’s head, despite knowing all the important coordinates and the routes to get there. But he could see the sickbed request for what it was, the reminder of where they’d come from. A tether to an old life that felt sickeningly distant now, lost in the soupy abyss of the camp. A yearning for something familiar; anything. He sees just a hint of Gale’s impatience, his growing frustration at their situation and the longing for home, and it fractionally lightens the loads bearing down on John’s own chest. That for all his calm, careful control on the surface, it was confirmation that he felt it too.

Catching them both by surprise, and with grumbled curse, Gale twisted away with another desperate sneeze, newly acquired handkerchief hastily raised. Newly, and sort of relievingly, unrestrained, the harsh sound echoing off the walls of the small cabin.

Uncharacteristically flustered and with an apology quick on his tongue, Gale immediately moved his entire body so they were chest to back again, and he was facing the wall. “Right, that’s it. I’m turning back around.”

“You do whatever you need to get comfortable, and I’ll ahem, warm up,” he replied through a smile, the dismissal of the apology silent but palpable.

Gale fell asleep that night to the soft, dulcet tones of Blue Skies butchered in his ear. Despite the cold, despite the illness, it was the easiest sleep since he’d arrived.

The next morning, Douglass and Hambone were the first to reluctantly extricate themselves out of bed, it being their turn to do the first water run of the day and collect the cabin’s assigned jugs. Once they were outside, confident in being completely out of earshot, the gossip flowed freely.

“Jesus, you’d think Cleven and Egan gab enough to each other during the day, now they’re going to be at it at night too?!”

#masters of the air #clegan #buck x bucky #gale buck cleven #john bucky egan #HOOOOO BOY #first fic for this fandom/pairing #we're really in it now boys x #my writing

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babybatscreationsv2 · 8 months ago

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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.”

#starker #marvel #prompt fill #vaguekiwi #dark fic #one I wish I could tag without it getting blocked

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kstarker · 16 days ago

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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:

#starker #nff #tony stark x peter parker #peter parker x tony stark #my writing #starker nff #abo #omegaverse #omega peter parker #alpha tony stark #dark fic #dead dove do not eat #Victorian AU

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abyss-slayer · 9 months ago

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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.

#total drama #tdi cody #tdi heather #total drama world tour

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taruchinator · 10 months ago

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☕ 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.

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!✦

#my stories #starker #starkerfestivalsevents #tony x peter #peter x tony

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monstersandmaw · 10 months ago

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March's Patreon-exclusive story is up on Patreon!

Preview:

Soldiers came to Caersands in the spring, when the roads were passable again after a hard winter winter, and the rumblings of war with the island nation of Farshoal were kicking off in earnest.

At first, it had proved exciting to have company after company of soldiers — archers, infantrymen, even a small centaur cavalry-archer unit pf bonded riders and centaurs, and, lastly, an aerial squad with heavy, armoured griffins and nimble flying drakes. But after they had eaten the large sea port almost out of provisions, and caused scene after scene by getting drunk and rowdy, either with the locals or with each other during their off-duty hours, and making work for law clerks like you who had to file and process all the charges, attitudes towards them in the town began to sour.

Nobility saw them as little more than ruffians, and the traders and townsfolk found them a nuisance.

Tensions with neighbouring Farshoal put everyone on edge, and as the summer drew on and there was no sign of either diplomacy or open war, things showed no sign of improving.

Halfway through copying out the last document on your long list for the day, you glanced up when the door to your employer’s study opened, and the tall, imposing dragonborn lawyer stepped out. His long, spined tail dragged on the floor, and his usually bright, flaming orange eyes had a distinct dullness to them.

“Sir?” you asked with concern, setting down your quill. The enchanted lamp that threw steady, unwavering light around the small chamber cast the scales of his pearlescent body into starker relief than usual, and made the hollows of his eyes look deeper despite the gemstone orange of his eyes. “Everything alright?”

“Hm? What? Oh, yes,” he sighed, startling a little, as though he’d forgotten his clerk would still be out there. “Yes,” he said again, and wafted a piece of paper held delicately between his clawed fingers in your direction. “This was among the cases put on my desk today. The minotaur who allegedly attacked a group of civilians… A sad affair, I think.”

You nodded. You’d read through the summary earlier. A huge minotaur — and a soldier in the Queen’s army — had apparently gone into some kind of berserker rage and attacked a group of noblemen late at night. He had claimed it had been in defence of someone else, but the noblemen all denied it, and they never found the person he’d claimed to have been protecting. He’d been taken into custody and locked up in a cell in Caersands Castle, awaiting trial. “You don’t normally take criminal cases,” you said to Master Embershard. “Why did this get sent your way? And why isn’t it being dealt with by the military courts?”

“There are no other lawyers available to take it at the moment, and since the nobles are the ones pressing charges, it’s a civilian matter. Gods, I wish it was a simple case of property law, but as it is, I feel obliged to take it since everyone else has their plates full. Something doesn’t add up about this one though. We’ll talk to him tomorrow morning.”

Master Embershard ran a clawed hand over his muzzle and shook his head. The long, ivory horns with their rare, rainbow sheen glinted in the light, and the myriad of pale spines that ran down between them to emerge again at his tail, caught the light of the enchanted lantern. You didn’t know exactly how old he was, but you knew that the older a dragonborn got, the more thorn-like spines they acquired, and the sharper they got. Master Embershard had a lot of spines.

You read through the documents again when you’d finished your day’s work, memorising the names of the nobles involved, and trying to imagine what meeting this supposedly violent minotaur would be like. You’d never met a minotaur. They tended to live in the grasslands much further to the east of the country, and you’d grown up in Caersands; the capital of the duchy that sat on the western coast of the continent. The non-humans you were familiar with were selkies and merfolk, the orcish merchant sailors and the sylvan elves who came to the port city to trade their rich, fruit liquors from the forests to the north. Minotaurs were often found with gnolls and werebears and even hardy satyrs in the gladiatorial rings in other cities, but Caersands had banned fighting pits a century ago.

After a night of broken sleep, you joined Master Embershard and walked with the aged dragonborn through the heaving streets, keeping a close eye on your small purse and large bag.

Two burly orcs stood in fine ducal livery, guarding the bridge to the castle with halberds flashing in the summer sun, but Master Embershard handled the necessary introductions, and you trailed into the castle after him.

Caersands Castle had stood on the promontory of the curved port town for time out of mind, with high-reaching, crenellated towers and a keep at its heart that was squat and solid as a boulder. The rich limestone walls were pitted and stained with age, and the salt in the air sent blood-red rust stains trailing down the masonry from the iron bars and torch brackets, the sight of which put you in a jumpy mood before you were even near the dungeons.

The air grew cold and dank as you descended, and Master Embershard took your arm for a little stability on the stairs as you followed behind the rancid-smelling jailer. The surly man had a mean glint to his eyes and he had the look of a man who enjoyed his position. Cries and moans drifted on the air and you tried not to think about the crimes that the people down here were accused of.

At the end of the row of festering, iron cells, the jailer paused by a solid, ironwood door and unlocked the rusty lock with a massive key. “Careful now, Master Lawyer,” he said to Embershard, leering at him through the gloom with greedy eyes. “This one’s more beast than anything. I’d advise you not to get too close, even though he’s chained.” And with that, he stepped aside and stalked past you, adding, “Shout if you need me, but you’ll have to make it loud. Sometimes I can’t hear over all the racket down here!” He left, cackling at his own poor humour, and the two of you turned your attention to the minotaur in the cell.

Your breath caught when you saw him.

A single shaft of greasy sunlight filtered down through a tiny arrow-slit high in the upper reaches of the wall, and a foul stench filled the air. It was only as you saw a slime of greenish water tracking down the wall that you realised the cell window was only just above the level of water in the moat that surrounded the castle, and you cast Master Embershard a horrified look. This was one of the cells that flooded in the winter.

Master Embershard bristled, his arthritic tail lashing back and forth, then he braced himself and stepped into the room.

As he entered, the minotaur looked up and your eyebrows rose. He was huge; bigger than any orc you’d ever laid eyes on, with colossal sloping shoulders and the dense, curly mane and convex muzzle of a bison. His horns reached outwards in two short, stocky half-moons, steel grey in the poor light of the cell. He was naked to the waist, showing a thick, dark pelt that covered his whole torso, and a short little tail rested on the filthy flagstones beside him. To cover his remaining dignity, a ragged loincloth of undyed linen had been fastened around his hips. To your shock, he was chained from both wrists to a ring in the floor, and around his thick hocks, two shackles had also been secured and bolted.

Horror dropped through you like cold moat-water and you faltered on the spot, though Master Embershard had his wits about him and cleared his throat. “Ajax Heathclear?”

Read the whole thing over on Patreon right now, or join as a free member to continue reading the free stories that would have gone up on Tumblr, as I'll be taking all my old work down as AI scraping is affecting my trust in Tumblr, shall we say?

#minotaur x human #male minotaur #male minotaur x human reader #minotaur x reader #exophilia #monster romance

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rowrowrowanurboat · 1 year ago

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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?]

#starker #ironspider #peter parker/tony stark #tony stark/peter parker

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starkerlove · 1 year ago

Note

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"

#starkerlovewritesstuff #ask #starker #peter parker #tony stark #peter x tony #tony x peter #peter parker x tony stark #peter parker/tony stark #starkerlove

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couldntbedamned · 1 year ago

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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

#couldntbedamned fic #master list #reader fic #sfw post #tony stark x reader #bruce banner x reader #stephen strange x reader #starker #tony stark x peter parker #spiderstrange #stephen strange x peter parker #doctor 13 #christine palmer x sharon carter #iron 13 #tony stark x sharon carter

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foulbearobservation · 2 years ago

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hi good morning have we considered ava calling bea "pretty boy" as a joke once like "okay calm down," she says, running a hand absentmindedly through beatrice's hair where it's lose around her neck, "I'm still gonna think you're gorgeous if you cut your hair, prettyboy" before going back to reading her magazine and bea just like. straight up has three gender crisis in a row. and ava only looks up from her magazine after bea has been silent for a solid ten minutes. "you alright babe?"

"I—um. I don't know." beatrice says like it physically pains her. She doesn't like not knowing.

ava walks back through the conversation, carefully poking around for the trigger phrase. She hadn't really said anything interesting just—ah. "Did you not like it when I called you prettyboy? I wasn't thinking, I'm sorry."

beatrice chooses her words with a carefulness that most reserve for disarming bombs. "I... I enjoyed it."

Several things about bea come into starker focus now, things bea probabaly doesn't realize that she does. "Do you wanna talk about it? Or wait until you've gathered your thoughts a bit more?"

beatrice again takes one of those long silences where she searches through every language she knows for precisely the right word. "I don't want to be a man." She says, the little confused crease between her eyebrows making an appearance. "I don't... I want time I think?"

ava shrugs, thoroughly nonplussed, "no matter what's going on in that handsome head of yours, you're still my person."

beatrice takes a few weeks to gather her thoughts. ava sees her walking around with a veritable library's worth of lgbt literature.

"I've made up my mind on the prettyboy issue," she says one day in the most beatrice way possible.

"yeah?" ava tries to keep her face neutral as beatrice joins her on the couch.

beatrice takes out a notecard and ava falls in love all over again. "I would enjoy it if you called me prettyboy." she reads off her little card. "I've been doing some reading and have some other terms of endearment that I think I would like as well, if you want them."

love me, beatrice is saying without words, love me in the way I want to be loved. she offers up the notecard. ava ignores the way bea's hand shakes just a little bit as she takes the card.

ava scans the card quickly, "I love you so much," she says, because it's true.

bea lets out a breath she probably didn't even know she was holding and deflates back into the couch a bit. ava clambers onto her lap. "were you nervous? is that why you busted out the notecards?" ava smiles and pokes at bea's cheek.

"I didn't know how you would react to me wanting to be called," bea's voice lowers like it's a secret, like they're not the only two sitting in their apartment right now, "your boyfriend sometimes."

"babe, I mean this with nothing but love in my heart. I don't care. I can handle some gender fuckery," ava says, then, tilting her head to the side, adds "outside of my own gender fuckery, of course."

"I just," bea's head falls forward, tucking herself into ava's chest, "I love being a lesbian but then you called me prettyboy and..."

ava makes a soft soothing noise, trying to stave off beatrice's butch lesbian gender crisis part 2, if only because it really does seem to stress bea out. "baby you're mine, no matter what pronouns or terms of affection you want used." she kisses the top of bea's head. "plus, do you know how much fun I'm gonna have with this? Hans is gonna be SO confused when I start talking about my boyfriend, AND I get to call you prettyboy more often, so really just a win win for me."

they sit in silence for a while until ava starts playing with beatrice's hair, moving her head this way and that as she does.

"what are you doing?"

"I know you were thinking about just cutting a few inches off, but I really think you could kill that sort of floppy haired eboy look."

"none of those words are in the bible, ava."

#anyway sorry I just had a lot of thoughts #let bea be a prettyboy

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vaguelyparker · 1 year ago

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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.

#starker #rea-writes

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nicolettesdreamworld · 9 days ago

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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

#fanfic #the vampire diaries #klaus mikaelson #tvd #klaus fanfiction #the originals fanfiction #tvd fanfiction #tvd fandom #the vampire diaries fanfiction #klaus x oc #mikaelson family #supernatural fanfiction #Klaus Mikaelson love #klaus mikaelson fic #Klaus Mikaelson story

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the-mad-starker · 2 years ago

Text

Starker Smut: Be Mine

Inspired by this post from @anonoite 💗💗 The first one I got was kitty!Tony x kitty!Peter. So here I am coming in with kitty starker Valentine's Day 😌

Can you believe this cute lil thing spawned a 5k fic? I can't 😂 I meant for this to be so much shorter. I wanted to finish it for Valentine's Day but better late than never?

Summary: It's Valentine's Day but Peter knows Tony's keeping a secret from him. His alpha makes sure to correct that mistake.

WC: 5681

(AO3 Link)

Notes: Alpha/Omega, feline omegaverse, Barbed Penis (kind of), Intersex Omegas, Omega Peter Parker, Alpha Tony Stark, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, Dirty Talk, Implied Mpreg, Cat/Human Hybrids, Mating jewelry, Light Angst, Marriage Proposal, Creampie, (some) pain kink, mirror sex, multiple orgasms

Note 2: although I have tagged barbed penis, it's not exactly penis spines cause I didn't wanna... Shred poor Peter 😂 so it's still spines but blunted. So no bleeding 😅

Terminology: toms refer to male cats and queens refer to female cats, but in this situation, tom=alpha, queen=omega

Mating Jewelry inspo cause I doubt I did a great job describing:

💗💗💗

Tony's been secretive lately.

The thought plagues Peter's mind throughout the morning class. His ears, usually perked up and attentive, lie flat against his curly hair and his tail barely twitches.

It's February 14th. Valentine's Day.

The tom wouldn't be so cruel as to break up with Peter on Valentine's Day, would he?

Peter doesn't think Tony would do that to him but it doesn't bring him any comfort. What if Tony wants to give him one last hurrah, wine and dine Peter, then let him down easy the next day?

The feline buries his head in his arms even more because somehow that thought seems even worse than being broken up with on Valentine's Day.

A nudge to his side has Peter peeking out of his makeshift hiding spot. Ned's concerned face greets him.

"It's time to go," Ned tugs him out of his seat but Peter drags his feet even knowing Happy's waiting for him.

"I'd thought you'd be excited to see your alpha," Ned muses, his own ears flopping as they walk.

"He's gonna break up with me, Ned," Peter says as though it's inevitable. His tail curls around his waist as Ned tugs him along.

"What?" His best friend sounds appropriately offended. "No way, dude! You guys are like… perfect together."

"Yeah? What makes you think that?" Peter turns to look at his friend. He's latching onto any bit of hope because he really really likes Tony. Maybe even… loves him...

Ned pauses as though not expecting the question.

"You're both felines?" Ned says as though that simple fact is enough.

Peter groans and bumps against the beta.

"That doesn't mean we're perfect together…" Peter says. He wishes it was that simple. "Maybe he found another queen, a prettier one, with– I dunno, a fluffier tail? …I'm just me, after all. I'm just… Peter. Boring, nerdy Peter."

"Hey, don't talk about my best friend like that," Ned pokes him. "And there's no better omega or uh, queen, than you, Peter."

The way Ned fumbles with the terminology breaks him out of his gloomy thoughts.

"You can just call me an omega, I know the terminology is a bit weird to get used to," Peter tries to smile at Ned. He's grateful that Ned tries so hard. He's such a good friend.

"I'll get used to it," Ned shrugs. "Omega, queen. Alpha, tom. It's the same thing, just… a tiny bit different."

"Well, we call each other omega and alpha too," Peter points out. "So it's fine if you use those terms."

"If I can get used to it in my head, it'll be better," Ned says, determined. "And hey, don't change the subject. Why do you think Tony's planning to break up?"

The omega falls silent gathering his thoughts.

"I dunno, it's just… a feeling. Like he's hiding something from me," Peter says, ears once again hanging flat. "He hasn't been texting or calling as much. And he's been busy a lot…"

Ned takes it all in. He doesn't call Peter crazy or paranoid, which Peter appreciates.

"Peter. He's a genius billionaire that's CEO of his own company," Ned reminds him gently.

"Genius, billionaire, ex-playboy, philanthropist," Peter feels the need to correct him, his lips quirking up into a half smile.

Ned rolls his eyes but concedes.

"Right. That. That's a lot of stuff to be handling," Ned nudges him.

"Yeah," Peter sighs. "I know… I just… wish I didn't feel like he was hiding something from me."

"So… ask him," Ned suggests. "What's the worst that can happen?"

And just on cue, they arrive at the parking garage where Happy is patiently waiting.

Normally, Peter feels so excited, so giddy, when he sees Happy because that means Tony's waiting for him at the end of the ride. But here, he can't help feeling a tiny bit of trepidation.

He waves Ned goodbye and resolves to get the answer out of his alpha.

What's the worst that can happen, after all? Maybe just a little heartbreak that'll tear Peter's whole world apart.

Yep. Nothing to it.

---

Tony's plans for Valentine's Day have Peter wanting to melt into a pile of goo.

The plan goes as follows:

Happy taking Peter to get tailor fit for a suit

A romantic brunch in Manhattan, set on one of the rooftops overlooking the city.

Spending the rest of the night with his alpha at the penthouse, just the two of them.

The custom made suit has Peter feeling so pampered and spoiled. He always feels so self-conscious when he's on Tony's arm, more than aware of the difference in their social standing. But like this, clad in form-fitting trousers and a waistcoat that accentuates his slim waist, he looks like a model ready for a photo shoot.

The way Tony's eyes light up in genuine pleasure, his eyes inspecting Peter from head to toe and finding the omega more than perfect… The kit glows with pleasure and feels confident enough to step up to Tony.

Tony's ears and tail are as dark as his hair, all sleek fur. Peter's, on the other hand, is a sable brown but what really catches the eye is the texture. Fluffy and curly, every single move has them bouncing.

When Peter steps up to his side, the tom's tail sways forward and effortlessly catches Peter's.

"You look lovely, kitten," Tony all but purrs, snagging him by the waist and dropping a sweet kiss on his lips.

Peter melts in his arms, his tail twining possessively around Tony's.

"It's the suit," Peter blushes.

"Even if you were wearing a t-shirt and sweats, you'd still look lovely," Tony continues with the charm and maybe Peter would've laughed and called him a sap but today was different.

The insecurity is still in the back of his mind so he eats up the compliment and all but purrs when Tony strokes one of his ears with affection.

"You look good too, alpha," Peter says sincerely.

Tony must hear it often enough but Peter's sweet words have the alpha purring in happiness.

Their luncheon is amazing. No matter how often Tony spoils him, the omega still isn't used to this type of lavish lifestyle. The tastiest of dishes are placed before him, the meat practically melting in his mouth while flavor bursts on his tongue.

The view of the city is breathtaking too. The company makes it all even better but when Peter turns to face the tom, he can't help but feel a pang of sorrow.

What if this doesn't last?

Tony continues to distract him though, talking about mutual projects and his general day. Peter gets the full brunt of Tony's attention and he eagerly soaks it up like a parched flower tasting rain.

When they're tucked away in the car, bellies full and hands entwined, Tony mentions, "You're a bit quiet today, kitten. Anything wrong?"

Peter means to shake his head. He's decided during lunch that he doesn't want to ruin things and doesn't want to disrupt the romantic plan Tony laid out for them. If he has to be in denial, then let him be in denial.

He leans his head against Tony's chest and the alpha's arm winds around him, tucking him close to his chest. Tony's heartbeat thumps against his ear, steady and reassuring.

It all feels so perfect and Peter breathes in the scent of his alpha and home. He can't imagine being with anyone else but Tony.

"Don't break up with me," Peter can't help but murmur softly. He doesn't realize he's said it out loud until the alpha he's leaning on suddenly stiffens.

"What?" Tony sounds so confused and that's when it registers.

Peter sits up, eyes wide. When his tail tries to untangle itself from Tony's, Tony continues to hold on.

"What do you mean, break up?" Tony looks so adorably confused that Peter has to bite down on his lip to stop from repeating his words.

"Peter, sweetheart, kitten–" Tony takes his hands and squeezes gently. "Why do you think I'd want to break up with you?"

A minute shiver has Peter's body shuddering. Tony's words ignite hope in his heart. Hopefully, he hasn't ruined everything with his insecurities.

"I thought you got bored of me," Peter confesses, "You kinda… weren't as into our conversations the past week and… I know you're busy so I didn't want to bother you but it made me feel like… yeah…"

Tony's mouth drops open in a Gobsmacked expression and he seizes Peter in a hard hug.

"Silly kit," Tony says and the feeling of his hand sliding through Peter's hair and rubbing against the velvety soft fur of his ear is so soothing, so right.

"Happy," Tony calls out to their driver and Peter jerks, embarrassed that he forgot Happy was an unintentional audience in this. "I think it's time. Change of course, take us to the secret spot."

"Tony…?" Peter asks, unsure.

The alpha kisses his forehead and only holds him tighter.

"Shh, sweetheart, this will explain everything."

And because Peter trusts Tony, loves Tony… the omega closes his eyes and just breathes in the soothing scent of his boyfriend as Happy changes course.

---

The place Happy takes them to isn't familiar to Peter but that isn't unusual. The stores here scream luxury so it isn't a neighborhood that Peter would have reason to frequent.

The name of the boutique is a simple word, Promises, and when Tony leads him to the entrance, the door is opened by a peacock. Or– Well, Peter assumes it's a peacock man since the employee has a distinctive crest of blue feathers swaying above his hair.

"Mr. Stark," the man doesn't seem surprised to see him or Peter. "This way, please."

They're led inside and it's a spacious area with a few mannequins lined against the walls. The lights in the store are specifically placed to shine on the mannequins and there are strands hung on the bodies where bright sparks of light are reflected back.

Peter wants to get a closer look, attracted by the light, but Tony's hand in his has him tugging the younger man to his side.

A teasing pinch to his ear has Peter flicking it instinctively.

"C'mon, kitten," Tony says, "You'll see for yourself why we're here."

Peter still wants to peek but he's also excited to learn more. They rejoin the employee, following behind a train of brilliant green feathers.

They're shown into a room. A dressing… room? Fitting room? It's the fanciest dressing room Peter's ever been in. Definitely the most spacious.

In the corner, a large section is curtained off from the rest of the room with thick light blue curtains. In the center, there's a small platform that's surrounded by mirrors so that the person standing in the center could see every angle.

There are bouquets of red roses on corner tables. And there's a small white couch against the wall for the comfort of waiting partners.

Suddenly, Peter knows exactly what Tony's been so busy with.

"Tony, this…" Peter trails off, helpless, and even more helpless when Tony leads him to the curtained off area.

The curtains are retracted to reveal a single mannequin, very similar to Peter's size. Peter wouldn't be surprised if it is his exact measurements.

The mannequin is decorated in fine strands of gold. Just like the front of the store, the light here is specifically positioned to showcase the jewelry. And that's what it is… Jewelry. Peter hadn't been able to see clearly when they were brought in, but he realizes now that it could've only been jewelry.

"Tony…" Peter breathes out as he approaches the mannequin. He lifts a hand and hesitates as though touching them would make them disappear.

Tony approaches with him and when Peter hesitates, the alpha calmly presses his hand down on the thin strands that make up the chest piece.

"It's yours," Tony tells him softly. "I've been coming here to check the progress. Make sure everything was perfect, the diamonds, the rubies, the arrangement… It had to be perfect for my future mate."

The courting gift is beautiful. It's made up of delicate gold strands that make up a chest harness. It starts at the neck where a beautiful collar sits. From the collar, two strands of gold gently trail downward and wrap around to the back. Connected from these chains, two more meet in the middle where there are rubies. The first chain would sit right where his collarbone would meet and the next chain would be between his pecs.

From the last chain, three gold strands are attached. The center dangles just short enough to rest above his belly button while the other two are long enough to wrap around his waist.

And separate from the chest piece, two more delicate strands of gold circle around the waist, crossing in an X at the front.

Peter knows it must've cost Tony a fortune, one that the omega probably can't even fathom.

"Alpha…" Peter murmurs when he turns to Tony. The tom's tail is flicking nervously and his ears are pushed forward eagerly.

"Peter… I hope you know now how serious I am about you," Tony tells him. When he steps closer and pulls Peter into his arms, he leans down and rubs their noses together.

Peter can't help the soft rumble that comes from his chest. His grip on Tony's arms tightens and he leans into him.

"Kitten… Peter… Peter Parker…" Tony murmurs. "Will you be mine? My mate? My queen?"

Even though Peter expects the question, it still makes his heart jump. He gives a brilliant smile, his fluffy curls bounce when he leans up and kisses his alpha.

"Yes, yes–" Peter says between kisses and smiles and a heart full of joy. "Alpha, my alpha. I want to be yours, wanna be your mate, your queen, only yours…!"

Tony returns the kisses. Peter can feel the press of his alpha fangs against his lips, their kisses are so full of passion.

When Peter pulls away breathless and giddy with happiness, he can't help but look back at the courting gift. An engagement set, he now realizes.

"Wanna try it on?" Tony's voice, low and suggestive, almost makes him jump.

Peter's face blushes pink. A lot of the jewelry is meant to show off Tony's claim on him. The collar, specifically, is the traditional piece and often, it tends to be the only piece necessary for a mating. Tony, of course, is going for a full set.

The jewelry is meant to show off Tony's adoration for him, but it's also a quiet declaration to Peter himself of Tony's love. The collar is meant to be shown off but the other pieces, the ones that Peter can wear under his clothes or hide away, those are just for him.

The chest harness and the pieces that hug his waist are only for him and Tony.

Peter wants to try it on and he wants to show his alpha just how well he knows him and his body.

"Yes," Peter answers, turning and nuzzling Tony's neck. "Will you put it on me?"

"Of course, sweetheart," Tony murmurs with a crinkling of his eyes, "I'm at your service."

It's not the first time Tony has seen him naked. They're way beyond that and are intimate with each other's bodies. Tony has kissed freckles and moles on Peter's back that the omega hadn't even been aware were there.

It's safe to say that Tony knows Peter's body more intimately than even he does himself.

So when Tony starts to remove the expensive suit he bought for Peter, the omega lets him until he's completely bare. He's more than a little hard, more than a little slick, and Tony can smell it on him.

Tony's eyes when they look at him are all dark pupils and full of hunger. But the anticipation makes it all the more worth it and Tony turns away, though he has to adjust himself too.

Peter hums teasingly, rocking on his heels and waiting eagerly.

The first piece that Tony places on him is the collar. It goes around his neck, neither too loose nor too snug. When Tony secures the clasp on the back, he brushes over the gold with reverent fingers when it settles into place.

Then a necklace is put on him. Peter hadn't even realized that it's a separate piece, it matches the set so well. The sparkle of a ruby settles right in the hollow of his throat like it belongs there.

The chest harness is next and it attaches to the collar seamlessly. Peter likes that he can wear them separately or together. When Tony goes to secure the harness, Peter obediently lifts his arms so Tony can reach the back.

Just as he expected, a line of gold dangles from the harness and barely reaches his belly. The ruby is just as red, just as beautiful as the one on his throat.

Tony's hands linger on Peter's hips when he places the last piece but the alpha behaves himself. Peter almost wishes he didn't.

Once that's secure, Tony steps back and lets his eyes linger in appreciation.

"How's it look, alpha?" Peter asks shyly.

The piece had looked stunning on the mannequin and even though he knows this is custom made for him, he wonders if the jewelry is too fine, too delicate, to look right on him.

"Come," Tony beckons him, taking his hand and leading him back to the center of the room.

Peter feels self-conscious walking around naked but Tony has always been a possessive alpha and has always taken Peter's safety into consideration. He knows he can trust the tom to keep his privacy safe if only because Tony would ruin anyone who even glances at him.

The alpha helps Peter up onto the platform. He stands behind the omega as Peter takes in the sight of his body covered in Tony's claim and he looks…

Handsome. Stunning.

The alpha looks at him in the mirror, eyes dark, his tail curled possessively around Peter's waist. Standing in front of the alpha, Peter feels so small and covered in gold, he feels just as delicate.

He feels adored and loved.

Tony's hands roam over his body, feather-light, as he teaches the strands of gold.

"Do you like it?" the tom needlessly asks.

Peter catches Tony's hand as he settles over his belly, large enough that his palm nearly covers the width of him.

"I love it, alpha," Peter says honestly. He turns towards Tony, smiling brightly.

The alpha is satisfied and he nods before smiling mischievously.

"Good, although…" Tony turns and steps away, confusing the poor omega. He takes a step to follow but then waits patiently when Tony goes to the door.

Something is handed off to him from the other side but Tony makes sure that Peter is still safely ensconced inside, hidden away from any curious eyes.

The box he returns with is longer than it is wide, easily the length of his forearm. When he opens it, Peter's brows raise in surprise.

There's another piece in there and it matches the set Peter is wearing.

"Alpha?" He says curiously.

Tony knees in front of him and looks up with sparkling eyes.

"Did you really think this was all I had for you?" Tony teases gently before he leans forward, takes Peter's hand, and kisses his knuckles. "No, kitten mine, what you have on now… is just the start."

He takes the new jewelry out and holds it up for Peter's inspection. It's just one piece and compared to the chest harness, the direction of the gold is going the opposite way. Instead of falling in a V, the chains here go from a point and lead downwards.

Peter isn't sure where it's supposed to go until Tony gently takes a hold of the back of his knee and urges him to lift his foot. When he does, Tony carefully helps him balance so that Peter lightly places his elevated foot on Tony's bent knee.

The new piece of jewelry is secured around his thigh like a garter belt and Peter shivers at the feeling of Tony's hands on him.

"There we go…" Tony murmurs, pleased. His fingers stroke the sensitive skin on his inner thigh.

"Alpha… what did you mean by this being the start…?" Peter has to ask, otherwise, he'd lose himself to the feeling of Tony's hands. Something embarrassing would truly happen then, like Peter whimpering.

Tony continues to stroke his inner thigh with a loving caress and then he leans forward and places a kiss there.

Peter shudders and his entire body feels like it's being lit up from the inside when his alpha's warm breath brushes against his skin.

"My mate, my queen," Tony calls him, "The set you have now is not complete yet. I'll spend the entire first year of our mating adding to this one and when it's complete, I'll do it again and again…"

Peter's breath catches in his throat. It sounds like so much but it's also so very Tony. He can't deny that it makes Peter feel so very… very spoiled.

You don't have to… He wants to say but he knows Tony wouldn't do something unless it was something he wanted. So the only thing Peter can do is run his fingers through Tony's dark hair, rubbing his dark ears and purring contentedly.

"Alpha…" Peter licks his dry lips. Tony being so close, his alpha scent free and unfiltered, is doing such things to Peter.

He knows his alpha is doing it on purpose and Peter is more than willing to follow his lead.

"Alpha…" Peter murmurs again when those gentle hands start to press deeper into his skin and Tony's purrs against his inner thigh. His face turns to where the omega is hard, his cocklet aching for attention.

"I'm glad you like my gift," Tony says, purring as he nuzzles the hardening cocklet. "Let me show you how appreciative I am that you're accepting."

He sets Peter's foot down, allowing him to better balance for what he's planning next.

"Shouldn't I be thanking you, alpha…?" Peter gasps out when Tony takes his cocklet into his mouth.

The alpha's mouth is hot and his tongue is soft and wet against Peter's cock. The omega, so sensitive already, grips the tom's hair, trapping strands of it in his fist. He needs it, something to hold onto, as Tony sucks on his cocklet, the small thing fitting so easily in his mouth.

For such a small thing, it's so very sensitive and Tony knows it. He sucks gently, swirling his tongue around the top and tracing the underside of Peter's cock with the tip of his tongue.

"Oh… Oh…" Peter moans, squeezing his eyes shut when Tony's fingers creep up his thighs and start to tease his pussy.

He's wet, dripping with slick. His insides part easily for the alpha's questing fingers but once they're inside, they clamp down, desperate for something bigger.

"Alpha… Tony…" Peter begs, muscles clenching tight as the fingers dig deeper, pumping into him with purpose. "I want…"

Slick wet noises come from between his legs and his ears grow hot with the filthy sound of it. Tony's mouth on him, his devious tongue playing with his cocklet… Tony's fingers fucking his wet pussy…

Tony knows him so well… His alpha…

"M gonna… Alpha, please… I can't…" Peter wants to protest, wants to be fucked before he comes but Tony continues to suck and finger him even when Peter grabs onto his ears and tries to wrench him away.

"Mm…! Ah-alpha…" Peter is helpless as he comes into the alpha's mouth. His tail lashes out, spasming as his insides clamp down on Tony's fingers and he floods the warm mouth he's in.

Wetness gushes from between Tony's fingers and the alpha hums and swallows.

"Alpha…" Peter complains when it gets to be too much. His legs feel like jelly and he melts into the alpha's lap, slick staining Tony's pants but neither care.

He purposely rubs against the alpha's cock, almost desperate despite just having an orgasm.

The orgasm sates him for two seconds because his body takes note and demands more. He hasn't been mated, hasn't gotten fucked and he needs more than a suck and a fuck for his omega body to be satisfied.

So he writhes in the alpha's lap, a desperate needy thing that only wants one thing.

"Let me thank you, alpha," Peter begs him, kissing Tony's lips and tasting his own seed in the alpha's mouth. It only makes his body burn hotter, his insides feeling achingly empty.

"Alright, kitten, I'm not gonna say no to that," Tony says against his lips. And yet, he seems reluctant to part from Peter's mouth, licking and nipping at his lips.

Peter gets handsy and not only does he rub against Tony's erection with his ass, but he also reaches down and fondles what he finds. Tony's cock strains against his pants, large and demanding and so so hard…

Tony hisses at the direct touch and that does it.

"Turn around, kitten," Tony growls against his mouth. "Let me see that pretty pussy."

Peter shudders and obeys immediately, going on his knees and lifting his tail to the side so he's exposed and vulnerable to his mate.

"So perfect…" he hears Tony murmur behind him.

A touch to the base of his tail has him lifting his ass higher and pushing into Tony's touch. When Peter lifts his gaze, he sees their bodies in the mirror and it shocks him.

The jewelry is still glimmering brilliantly in the light but they look even prettier against the flushed pink of his skin. His face is particularly red, even more so when he sees his alpha positioning himself behind him.

Large and intimidating, the alpha is staring intently at the place between Peter's legs. It makes Peter squeeze his thighs together before he forces them to relax.

"Alpha… C'mon, alpha… Take it… take what's yours…" Peter says, tail waving in an almost hypnotizing gesture.

"God, you're such a temptress…" Tony groans before he rushes to pull his cock out.

Peter licks his lips when he sees it reflected in the mirror. Tony's alpha cock, thick and ready. He jerks when he feels the heat of it slap on his ass but a harsh grip on his hip keeps him in position.

"Here you go, kitten… You need it so bad, don't you?" Tony says as he positions the head of his cock at Peter's dripping pussy. The tip teases the omega's hungry hole and he shifts on his knees just to feel the alpha's cockhead nudging in.

"Please, please…" Peter whines when he can't get it inside by himself.

"Shh, I have you, kitten… Gonna give it to you…" Tony doesn't make him wait any longer and pushes inside.

Just the girth of his alpha's cock makes the breath in his lungs rush out when it pushes inside. The length, though, it feels as though Peter's split apart every time. It's only practice and familiarity that has Peter taking the impressive cock in its entirety.

Even then, that first thrust doesn't let Tony sink all the way. It's still enough for Peter to buck against his hold, hips wanting to simultaneously pull away and push back.

Tony groans, loud and clear, and pulls out only to fuck back in. Peter gasps, scrambling for purchase when the tom starts to fuck him hard, trying to inch his entire cock into the tight, wet space of the omega's body.

Peter's eyes threaten to roll to the back of his head as Tony works his cock in.

"Mmph! Mmm alpha…!" Peter cries out, pleasure making his body eager and primed for the rough fucking their kind enjoys.

Tony's cock works him open but he's still so big, so large inside him… Peter's insides are going to ache for days and it's what he wants… That type of pain that has the feline omega arching his back, begging to be mated and bred.

He could never have this with anyone else. It is only ever Tony for him, his tom, his alpha…

The pain of being fucked harshly transmutes into a type of pleasure that has Peter crying out and only begging for more.

"Alpha–" Peter cries out, "Mm, it hurts… hurts…"

Tony's hips never stop working. By now, his cock has sunk all the way in, plowing into Peter's insides over and over again.

"Yeah?" Tony pants, breathless, and then he folds his body over Peter's, covering him completely. His teeth nip at his mating mark and Peter feels like he's going to fall apart. "Hurts good, doesn't it, kitten? This is what you wanted. When you waved that pretty tail at me… Bent over and gave me access to that pretty pussy of yours…"

Another thrust, this time shorter but no less impactful.

"Mm!" Peter moans, his head tilting to give Tony better access to his neck. "Yes, alpha… yes… hurts so good… alpha's cock… splitting me open…"

"Mm…" Tony groans. He sets his teeth against Peter's sweat damp skin, teeth encountering gold and pressing in against skin despite that. "Don't want me to stop, do you, kitten? Want me to go all the way? Let my barbs out and make you pregnant…?"

Pregnant…

"Oh!" Peter gasps out, his mind going haywire with it. Tony's cock… Tony's come, Tony's barbs… The one thing that would scare the shit out of other omegas that weren't of their kind but Peter is exactly like Tony.

He was made for this. He would only ever get pregnant from a feline alpha like Tony. His body would only ever recognize an alpha of his kind and his heart would only ever recognize Tony.

"Yes, alpha, my alpha… give it to me…" Peter grows desperate, pushing back against the alpha's thrust, now hungry to be filled. "Make me pregnant… Fill me up… Do it, do it–!"

A hand clamps down on his nape and just like that, Peter's body goes soft and pliant.

"Alpha…" Peter whimpers as Tony takes full control. The hold has him incapable of moving but it's necessary for what's next.

Felines mating… It's rough on the omega and Tony needs to take complete control.

With a few more thrusts, Peter's body sways like that of a rag doll as his alpha takes his pleasure. He's happy to do it, happy to please his alpha.

His mind starts to float, pleasure and pain signals mixing in his head until there's only pleasure.

He knows the moment Tony gets close. The alpha's thrusting becomes rougher, almost jarring. The clapping of his hips against Peter's ass is especially harsh, sounding loud in the fitting room.

"Alpha…" Peter mewls and Tony hauls him onto his knees, replacing his hand with his teeth so that the omega remains pliant for him.

He catches a glimpse of them in the mirror, Peter's flushed body held captive in his alpha's arms. A feral glint gleams in his alpha's eyes and he stares at Peter and meets his gaze in the mirror. Between his spread thighs, the alpha's hard cock is seen in flashes of slick wet flesh, his heavy balls pulled tight and ready to deliver a thick virile load.

Tony's teeth in his flesh only add to the pleasure. Tony's rough calloused hand stroking his dripping cocklet… His thick cock fucking in and out of Peter's pussy…

He fucks another orgasm out of Peter and the omega is gone. The pleasure is even more overwhelming, the heightened pain turned pleasure has him clutching onto his alpha's forearm.

Tony's cock sinks in all the way and in the midst of Peter losing his mind, the barbs on his cock raise up, the blunted tips scraping and rubbing.

Peter screams, he yowls when he feels his alpha's cock grow and rub against his already tight insides. His eyes roll to the back of his head as the alpha's cock jerks inside him, pulses erratically, and fills his aching insides with come. The barbs feel even more prominent with Peter's pussy squeezing down like a vice and the omega moans in oversensitivity. The blunted tips rub him just like he needs and his entire body shudders in recognition, his demanding instincts finally quieting down at the feel of a feline male's cock breeding him.

Tony doesn't release him until he's done and so Peter takes it with soft whimpers and whines. He's being bred and his feline body knows it, his stomach cramping as more and more come is spilled into his overflowing pussy. Even when he feels like there can't possibly be more space, his pussy still shamelessly wants more, clamping down on Tony's cock and milking it for more.

When Tony's finally done with him, he lowers Peter gently onto the floor.

As always, their mating takes a toll on the poor omega and Peter looks at his alpha with hooded eyes, barely able to keep his eyes open. Tony settles between his legs, his tail flickering contentedly behind him. The satisfied smile he gives Peter spells trouble but the omega barely twitches when Tony puts a hand on his knee.

He does, however, whine, when Tony places his knee over his shoulder and lifts his hips.

"Alpha… can't…" Peter whines but he doesn't try to stop the alpha when Tony sets his mouth to his pussy. He only squeezes the alpha's head between his thighs and resolves to the fact that he'll most likely be fucked into unconsciousness tonight.

"Shh," Tony murmurs then laps at his pussy, licking away a mix of come and slick. "Let me clean my mate…"

So Peter just lays back and lets his mate clean up the mess, a purr sounding from his throat and Tony working him up to another release.

#starker #madstarker writes #nff #omegaverse #lmao please heed the tags #hybrids #feel like I gotta apologize to anonoite #i wrote such filth cause of a cute doodle 😂😂#FINALLLLLY DONE #ahhh been trying to finish since vday

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