#I hate starker

[august-parker]

Sometimes I start typing something illegal to a starker shipper and then I remember I'm not on Twitter, I'm on tumblr

Being a silly positive person is the only thing keeping me from sending 💀 threats to starker shippers 😞 that's an adult man and a child. I don't play when it comes to p3dophilia

[emychara]

Please Starker shippers. Why do you guys ship this ship....? 😭

Honestly, I think all Starker shippers only ship it for the sake of gay and the +18 content with it... That's it.

I just really hate this ship with a passion. I just don't understand. I interact like this with my father and I can't even imagine what people must imagine in their heads ☠️

1. It's pedophilia, the age gap is just big and wrong. Peter also met him when he was young. That will make Tony a p*do and toxic. Why? Because he would take advantage of someone's admiration for him for something more sinister. And I love Tony, I never want to see him like this.

2. It's just wrong. Like I said, their relationship would be toxic. He would be the one dealing with the relationship and Peter the used one.... Even imagining it disgusts me 🤢

So please explain. I'm crying.

[rottenrottweiler]

Peter is a FAST learner. Even the first time, as Tony took his first kiss, first blow, first fuck; Peter was adept in following Tony's cues beautifully. Every time Tony taught him something new, he swallowed it, absorbed it, let it imprint him. Peter was more than perfect, he was a dedicated zealot for Tony.

[captshipper]

"can you block a tag on AO3? I keep seeing disgusting Starker fics", just admit you don't know how to properly use AO3 when it comes to fic searching :)

[irondad-defensesquad]

imagining tony painting peter's nails for him (i personally love black nails but could be any colors rlly. like spider-man red and blue themed!)

also imagining younger tony being super gnc - wearing make up, dresses, skirts etc. honestly tony would be sooo gnc if the mcu let him

[chrisemrysfics]

This happens often enough that it is frustrating and I wanted to say something about it: can I just please enjoy a platonic/familial Tony&Peter fanfic without that enjoyment being broken by the author insulting or bashing on Starker shipper?

I love their dynamic in canon, I love them as mentor/mentee, I love them as father/son, and the reason I love Starker ship is first and foremost the idea that love is stronger than all the potential issues they face for a potential relationship. Because that's what it is: not inherent wrong aspects, but potential issues. And "potential" means it doesn't always become a reality. Fics that explore when it isn't necessarily healthy, or legal, aren't fundamentally different than fics exploring violent themes for example. It's about the messiness and complexity of humanity, which in itself is beautiful. And in Starker, its because I love their canon dynamic and I love the idea of their love being stronger than the potential issues, that I can enjoy darker/unhealthy depictions of the ship. And it's all fiction, which is first and foremost about telling a story. And a fictional story is entertainment specifically because we know it's fiction and no real human being were harmed to make that fiction, nor does anyone depicted is an actual real human being being harmed in the events of the fictional story.

And you know what is the irony? Not a single fic I've read for Starker makes explicit or implicit comment of the same type about people who only view them as platonic/familial. When I read fics for the platonic/familial dynamic, sometimes the author in the notes will call Starker shipper "gross", or disgusting, and sometimes there are moments in the fic itself where for the idea of them together is thrown around and the characters react "ew", which sometimes make sense in context, but other times, it honestly doesn't feel like it make sense to have this show up and have this strong feeling of being in there for a more "subtle call out". But not a single fic for Starker does the same thing.

Most Starker shipper, myself included, respect if someone just doesn't see them this way. Most Starker shipper will think carefully about the tags to put, and you know what I did see often? Starker author who feel a need to state that they don't condone the real life version of the stuff that they write. It breaks my heart everytime because it's so obviously because they know what part of the fandom say about them. They can't even enjoy and write what they like without feeling a need to try and express it's just them enjoying fiction. Non-Starker act so offended, but they're the one who put pressure onto the rest of the fandom that is either platonic/familial only but respectful, or Starker too.

And you know what? I'll come out and say it: what I fucking don't condone is harrassing other people, and butting your head into the genuine happiness of others. What I happily condone is respect, choice, consent, genuine love, and a real wish for each other well-being even when it's hard or complex or messy. If two or more people genuinely care for each other, choose each other, respect each other, wants to try, and have enough maturity for their choice and consent to not be blind? That is what matter. I wouldn't want to see a late teen with an adult, because the amount of potential issues is enormous, and most of the time, it won't work out or it isn't healthy. But to pretend there isn't a tiny amount of cases where it does work out is a disservice to any relationship that started where it was really iffy, and yet worked out for them because they truly, genuinely loved each other.

You know what else I'll come out and say it? I'm a fucking survivor of CSA, and it's so damn healing to see people who enjoy things I enjoy without feeling it's only because I'm "broken", to see that it's something natural in our psyche. I was robbed the ability to grow up blind to what sex is, I was robbed my consent, I was made to feel powerless. But I recovered from all of this, a survivor and not a victim anymore, and growing up, I was always more mature than my age, which meant I knew that it is possible for someone to feel more mature than others people their age. If I fell in love with an adult as a teen, I would have known the inherent risks. And I would have been so angry, and hurt, to be dismissed, for others to try and take away my agency again. I wouldn't have wanted, and still don't want, someone to feel, or feel again, the hurt of your agency being violated. On the other end, even as a teen, and still as an adult, I would be just as angry to see a child or a teen that is being abused or who is in a dangerous situation, where their agency is not properly respected. As a teen, and now as an adult, it pisses me off to see the way people in fandom can act for mere fiction, because all I see are people who ignore and dismiss other people agency. All I see is people harassing and violating other people. Because I know what the real life feeling is like, and I can recognize it a miles away when it happens.

No fiction has either violated me. But people? Oh yes, they do. They don't even have to come attack me directly. Everytime I see them attack someone else, or make certain comments in their author note. And I'm so damn lucky I did heal, and recover. Because even though I did, it still feels frustrating and hurtful. I cannot begin to imagine how it feels like for those like me, or similar to me, who are still healing and have to face this over fiction. Who might not even know why it hurt, or only in part.

So yeah, this has angered me enough to come out and say it: watch what you are doing and saying over mere fiction, because chances are, what you are doing is violating other people. Abuse, and violation, aren't always sexual or even physical. Emotional&mental abuse, emotional&mental violation, are just as real. And fiction cannot abuse or violate, because there is no one real inside fiction, there is no power. Only real people can hurt others this way.

I didn't spend years healing and recoving to be walked over by people who either don't undestand, or who do but unknowingly (or worst, knowingly) become the abusers. And you, who enjoy dark fiction of any kind, especially "problematic ships", especially ships like Starker?

Thank you. You're the ones who sees what I see, even when you never experienced what I did, and I hope you never had to. Not the ones who act on supposed moral high grounds, but you, you are the ones who truly understand. I am angry for your sake, because I know what it feels like to be violated in the worst of ways, and I never wish anyone to be violated in any way. So thank you for looking into these topics right in the eyes, and knowing there is nothing wrong with enjoying them. Thank you, especially, to the ones that actually point out when the situation is entirely legal, if not risky, and those who show how such ships can be healthy, for unknowingly recognizing how people like me would have felt if a similar situation had happened in real life. For recognizing where the line is between what is violation, and what isn't.

You're attacked so many times from content exploring darker topics, darker depictions of ships, or ships who aren't inherently dark but have potential issues, so for once, I want you to hear it: thank you.

[kenztheweirdmf]

can we all agree civil war is dog shit hate they made Tony and Steve fight each other

me and my homies hate Hero vs Hero events

( i ship starker, spidershield, winterspider and stucky and will always deny that movie exist )

[starkerscoop]

Anyone have starker prompts they want to send me? I need some inspo 😫

[annestie]

FIRST HATE COMMENT OF THE YEAR!!! WOOO

Context below

It wasn't even for the fic I thought it would be for lmao. I definitely thought the angsty mpreg I wrote would get hate, not fluffy irondad and spiderson misinterpreted as a romantic relationship.

For reference, this was on my fic, Mother Hen, about Peter cooking Tony a surprise birthday breakfast and failing in a somewhat spectacular fashion. It never references starker or them being a relationship other than a pseudo father-son one LMAO

Also, they chose to make it so I couldn't reply to their comment which I found even more cowardly and stupid. Don't dish it if you can't take it

[myfandomrealitea]

starker, destiel, now you got me real curious what other ships you like ;)

If they're two attractive men, I like them.

If they're two attractive women, I like them.

Here in the House of Gays we honor and feast upon most. Not all, because we do have some standards here, but most.

Although in all honesty I don't know if I have the right to claim being 'a Starker' (do they have a fanmade fandom name? Or are they just Starkers?) because I think the last time I read Starker was when Endgame came out. I think its hot, but I'm not particularly invested in it. I just also know it gets a shit tonne of hate and the people who do ship it get attacked a lot, so thusly a shield to the innocent my body became.

[sharonisthebettercarter]

lmao, this is honestly TOO well done because it's not even a preferred ship for me but i just... couldn't not reblog.

it's just that good!

[fuzzandfeathers]

This comic takes place during Seeing Stars while Blitz and Stolas are on their way to the studio!

Hope you enjoyed! Mild art ranting below the cut 😂

I had to drag this piece kicking and screaming over the finish line. When I first got the idea and started working on it, I had a very different rendering approach I was experimenting with. I finished the entire comic in that style then immediately decided I hated it 😂 I liked the lines for the most part, but not enough to keep, so in the end I just... redrew the entire thing using the original as a reference (don't do what I do). And still this comic irks me. From a technical perspective I actually like it quite a bit; I'm satisfied with the way I drew Blitz and Stolas, at the very least. But in terms of what the comic evokes(?) I'm not not 100% happy with it (or even 90%). It's like a 'this art doesn't make me feel what I wanted it to make me feel' type of dissatisfaction, which is, unfortunately, kinda tough to resolve. I'm a big believer in embracing your failures (and in moving on when frustration is no longer serving you) so this was getting posted no matter how it turned out and eventually I'd run out of desire to work on it further. But I still wanted to let some of these feelings out because it's been awhile since art made me feel that way! And I think it's nice to let other people see the artist perspective sometimes even when it isn't totally positive. On the bright side, it was fun to experiment with a lot of things in this piece! Also this comic was actually finished weeks ago and I've already moved to a better place with my art. This kind of frustration is usually a precursor to growth anyways, so it's best to just be patient and ride it out 😌 Hope this little rant wasn't too much of a downer! The last thing I want is to take away people's enjoyment of the art by being too critical of myself <3 Here's a little peek at the original style! In retrospect, it actually wasn't that bad, I'm just more a fan of the starker, un-rendered look I eventually went with:

[totallynotashieldagent]

Kinktober - Hate Fucking

Pairing: Hal Jordan/Reader

The slap that cracked across his face shocked his system.

“You almost got us killed with your showboating!” You screamed. “I’m reporting you to Batman- I’ve HAD it with your absolute bullshit!” 

“You did not just fucking slap me, princess-” Hal growled, twisting your wrist back. “I saved your sorry ass.”

“I had it under control!” You snapped at him.

“Like hell you did!” He pushed back, crowding your space until he was pressed against you.

“Fuck you, Jordan.” You glared venomously, taking steps back until you tumbled backwards into a random empty room.

“You know what, pretty? Why don’t you fuck me yourself?” He spun you around, your face against the wall. Punching the door button to lock you both in, engulfing you in darkness.

“The fuck are you doing, Jordan?!” You hissed, trying to push him away but it just ended up you grinding against his bulge.

“You heard me, princess.” He growled against your ear. “Fuck. Me. Yourself.” His ring glowed and you found yourself pinned against the wall with his constructs. 

“Let go!” You gasped, hating how his stupid ring made everything so powerless. 

“Ah- ah- ah-” He laughed, his uniform disappearing, leaving him starkers. “Behave or that mouth will go to good use-” 

“You put your dick near my mouth and I’ll bite it off.” You warned, masking how your underwear was already soaked through. The bound wrists were to your liking. You did that usually with partners. But he didn’t need to know that shit. 

You could feel his constructs undoing your uniform slowly. Your thighs were squished together to keep some form of dignity intact. You were not going to let this asshole know that you- 

“Fuck you!!” You snapped again. 

“I’m getting to it, darling.” Hal chuckled, his palms groping and kneading at your ass. “You, since the day you joined the League, I’ve wanted to fuck that attitude out of you-” 

“Ever since I joined the League, I’ve wanted to cut your throat-” You struggle against the construct.

“Stop fighting it, sweetheart. They don’t call me the greatest for nothing. My constructs aren’t-” He boasted and you grinded against him, his concentration breaking for a moment, the constructs faltering. You used it to your advantage, breaking free and elbowing his nose as hard as you could. 

He dodged the strike, grabbing your arm with a snarl. “Playing dirty, are we?” He twisted your arm behind you and instead of a pained gasp, you moaned. “Well, well, well- I knew you liked it rough.” He laughed against your ear. “You’re such a brat because no one’s ever fucked you right, hm?” 

You jerked your head back to headbutt him but he dodged it too. It wasn’t riling him up anymore. It was just turning him on. And not that you’d ever admit it, you were enjoying it too. For the first time, you were fighting and the other person was able to keep up. 

“I’ll give it to you like you need it, princess.” Hal licked your neck. “I’ll give it just how you need it.” The empty room glowed in green hues as a table breathed into life and he pushed you over onto it. “Last chance, honey-” His hand was skillfully undoing the zippers and buttons, hovering now on your underwear’s waistband. You knew you could stay stop and it would stop. Hal wasn’t the guy who would push after he was denied but-

“What? You a coward too now?” You goaded him. 

“You’re such a fucking bitch-” The smack that came down made your body shiver and your thighs clench. His hand was large and calloused and he hit hard enough that you felt the recoil across your body. You felt the breath get knocked out of you and shudder when he kneaded the tender flesh. “Now, will you behave, pretty thing?” 

“Fuck. You.” You bit out. In hindsight, not the smartest thing to say. Because the second spank that came down was harder. You yelped, trying to push away but his other hand held your wrists tightly at the small of your back. 

“As you wish-” Hal laughed, a pair of green scissors cutting away at your underwear. “Oh- So wet? All for me? I’m flattered-” His fingers teased at your folds roughly. 

“H-Hal-” You choked out but his middle finger was already knuckle deep.

“What was that, princess?” He leaned over your body. His hard cock against your ass. “You have to use your words.” He mocked. 

You clenched your jaw. No way in hell were you going to tell him that his finger felt good. That he was curling it the right way. You breathed through your nose, your forehead against the table, concentrating to not- to not- to not- 

“Oh god-” Oops- It slipped out. You were on your toes, legs were shaking, his thumb was brushing ever so slightly at your clit and you hated that you wanted more. 

“No, no, no, no-” Hal laughed, removing his finger and sucking it off. “You’re gonna hold it until I say you can cum. Got it?” 

“I’ll cum when I feel like it!!” You argued, trying to pull away from his tight grip. 

“Keep squirming.” He rubbed the head of his cock against your dripping cunt. Slowly, teasingly, almost mocking you. The head just almost at the entrance but not quiet. “It makes me want to fuck you harder.” 

“Big words for a man who won’t ev- AH!!” The words get lost in your throat in a cry of pain and pleasure as he plunges in fully. A string of curses left him and you. He stretches you to the brim, no longer holding your wrists, just the flesh of your ass. So tight, you know it’ll bruise later but god he felt so good. 

“Jesus, princess-” He groaned, “If I knew your pussy was this heavenly, I would’ve pushed your buttons sooner.” He started to move. But soon enough, his slow, measured thrusts turned harder, rougher and more erratic. His blunt nails dug into your ass as he moved faster, and all you could do was hold onto the table with desperate needy moans, trying to catch your breath. 

“Hal- I’m-” You tried, your legs were shaking so much. You were sure your toes would be blue with how long you’d been on them. 

“Not fucking yet-” He growled, another harsh smack! connecting to your ass followed with a massage. It just made you wetter. 

“Go to hell.” You moaned, holding the table so hard your knuckles were losing blood flow.

“Yeah? I’ll meet you there-” He laughed, rutting into you with a merciless pace, holding tightly to you. The recoil against your hips was harsh and you gasped every time his cock hit your g-spot so perfectly.

You were biting your lip hard enough to draw blood. Trying to control your noises as much as possible. The man did not need a bigger ego. He did not need to know that he could really back up all his bravado and ego with-

“Fuck- You’re squeezing me up, sweetheart. Gonna cum for me already?” He pistoned harder and you finally couldn’t help it. The sound that escaped you could’ve put a pornstar to shame. Hal groaned, his grip tightening, more curses falling from his lips. 

You knew you were close. You were trying so desperately to hold off. To not give him that satisfaction. To make him live with the fact that he didn’t make you cum but it was getting harder and harder to do. Especially when a construct glowing green hand snaked around and started to rub at your clit. You cried out in pleasure again, the coil in your stomach so taut, you knew it was going to snap soon. 

“Come on, pretty thing- I wanna hear what you sound like when you let go-” He groaned, his pace starting to falter just a bit. He wanted to cum, so badly, but heavens above he’d rather throw himself into the sun than finish first. 

“Fuck you, Jordan!!” You screamed and came hard. Squeezing everything he was worth, your thighs shaking, your back arching as the pleasure cut through you like never before. You hated it, you hated how fucking good he felt and how amazing he made you feel. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-” He whimpered as his pace became erratic, shooting thick ropes, filling you so much that your needy, swollen cunt dripped to the floor.

He slumped on top of you, both of you breathless and boneless. 

“So, still wanna report me, sweetheart?” He asked after a few beats of silence. 

“Yes.” You mumbled, your pussy still throbbing around his cock.

Kinktober 2024.

[sky-is-the-limit]

'I make guarantees.'

Phillip Graves x F!Reader

Summary: As a member of the TF141, it comes naturally to be aggravated by Phillip Graves. Pair that with every fiber of your body, mind and soul desiring him, and you have a ticking bomb ready to explode. Basically, porn without plot.

CW: Angry sex, jealousy, possessiveness, degradation, violent/explicit language, mention of blood (minor), unprotected sex.

WC: 4,712 words (oops)

Notes: I'm not a writer!

Phillip Graves was no ordinary man. He was the sort to blaze through your soul like a wildfire, allow you to feel the kind of passion and intensity you only find between the lines of a fantasy tale and then leave ashes behind, forever engraved in your skin.

As if sensing his gaze, you turned to look at Phillip. You only spared him a passing glance though, smirking just before turning back to laugh at a joke Johnny told, too crest for the other man's tastes.

This was the second mission where you had to collaborate with the Shadow Company for a more effective outcome, meaning you had to be in his overwhelming presence once more. Someone outside watching in would think that you hated each other, whenever you'd interact. You always tested his limits, toed every line that you could cross with every action, with every takedown.

Perhaps you did, deep inside. Hated him for igniting feelings in you so intense that would only resonate to you either banging your head against a wall or let him fuck you against one.

Phillip showed his interest straight away, from the very first interaction the two of you had during your first mission, his arrogance and cockiness oozing out of him as though he had no ordinary blood running through his veins. Pair that with the way he was talking to Johnny, the closest squad member to you, you had to turn down his advances, which unsurprisingly, hurt his fragile ego and ever since, all remarks exchanged between the two of you were like bullets destined to kill.

Once more, you found yourself in the common area of your temporary base, left alone to face him. Your leisure time of listening to Soap's silly dad jokes and good conversation over coffee was cut short when Phillip walked in.

Johnny did not have the patience to ignore him and his snarky comments that he had to physically get away from him, and you did not blame him one bit. Was it your pride or something else forbidding you from exiting right after?

''It's pathetic really.'' His posture was starker than usual, his eyebrows furrowed, his lips tight as he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Though you had your back turned on him, you could feel his gaze devouring you whole.

The abruptness startled you, but keeping your composure, you set your coffee down on the table and turned to look at him.

''Your entire existence? I know.'' The words came out in a furious rush and you felt a bead of sweat drip down your back under your black shirt. It was a nasty habit, at that point. You couldn't even finish one argument without starting another and the one brewing was the second one that day.

''How you flirt with him to get my attention, Y/N.'' Phillip's voice was low and irritated, and it set your emotions ablaze, a roaring inferno within your mind. 

“Of course, because it's always about you. I definitely talk to my squad member specifically to get your attention, silly me.'' The minute he walked in, you prepared yourself for this. It would be abnormal for an interaction between the two of you to not turn into an argument.

''He's so boringly predictable that I caught you looking at me at least 50 times. Go on though, I do enjoy the show.'' Arrogance was dripping off his tongue like second nature, along with that all familiar smirk that made your insides hurt.

''Don't you ever get tired of hearing your own voice, Graves? Or do you get off of ticking every box in the 'how to be a perfect narcissist' list?'' You shrieked, hating the way your voice came out your throat but the way in which he threw his shoulders back and laughed in a cruel tone made you see red.

Suddenly he was much closer, leering down at you. It wasn't clear to know who moved first, or who would next.

''Me? A narcissist? You're the one who wants every man's attention on you.'' He growled lowly and stood to full height, his demeanor making you swallow thickly as he loomed closer and stared you down. Out of habit you straightened your spine, lips curling back into a scowl.

''Shut your fucking mouth, Graves-" The blood running through your veins was pumping hot, you wanted to pour it out and paint everything around you red, so it matched the fury riding you with every word he threw in your way. Phillip's response didn’t ease you any.

''Is that what you did to earn your spot hm? Fuck your way to the top?'' His tone dripped with scorn as he responded to you, his words carrying an edge sharper than a sword.

''Say that again, Graves. I fucking dare you.'' Spitting the words with teeth bared, and fists clenched as you circled each other, you poked at his chest firmly, the muscles twitching beneath your fingertips.

Your gaze met his with stubborn defiance, nearly ready to just explode and punch him. Maybe that would make you feel better, knocking some sense into his enormous ego.

There was nothing you despised more than another man undermining your career and progress, belittling you as if you were not greater than all of them combined when holding a sniper riffle in your hands.

What made it worse, was that you knew Graves was doing that to get a reaction out of you, to push your buttons without meaning a single word pouring out of his mouth. It was a facade, you knew that. The first thing he ever said to you, was to compliment your skills, which made his intention even more infuriating.

''You could try that with the Shadow Company next, I promise to give you a higher rank if you use that mouth-'' It was as though your hand had a brain of it's own, moving automatically with force to meet with his cheek and the corner of his mouth, leaving the tender skin red to the touch and the corner of his bottom lip reddening with drops of blood.

''Is that all you got?'' He mocked, his voice gravelly as his fingers wrapped around your wrist tightly, preventing you from moving an inch. Your anger dissipated in the favor of fear the very second you saw his expression.

You were volatile and explosive, but that's how you craved it, and even then, your desire to be fucked by him had trumped all your wrath, in fact, your rage had just heightened it. It was pure madness and the was no rational explanation to it nor that you cared to find one.

Glowering, hands itching to hit him once more, you turned on your heel, aiming for the door and intending to get black-out drunk with Simon as you assumed that he was downing his fifth beer by then, when he grabbed you by the back of your neck and hauled you against him.

You struggled, clawing and scratching his arms as they banded around you and held you trapped. He was chuckling in your ear, you could feel how turned on he was, and your inner voice was crooning that you got just what you wanted, but you ignored it. You wanted to fight yet your body had something entirely different in mind while a flow of slick started to soak up your panties as Graves pressed his manhood into you.

''You fucking-'' The thoughts running wild through your mind interrupted your own words, the ebb and flow of your gazes intensifying by the second though it felt like an eternity of his blue eyes piercing through your soul like he could sense every filthy fantasy hiding behind them. You didn't dare to move and in the end, you didn't have to.

You were both breathing heavily, tension wrought to the extreme as you were staring at each other, not really fathoming how you ended up like this. It was pure excitement, trepidation, like you were desperately waiting for something to happen.

This was the culmination of whatever instinctive, subconscious game the two of you had been playing from the very first mission you'd embarked on collaborating with him, a game of push and push between the two of you until the breaking point.

Graves pushed forward, his lips brutally meeting your own. He bit down on them, hard and cruel, loving the cry you whimpered out as he savored you whole. His hand moved from the side of your head to the back of it, tugging the hair there to tilt your head to his.

The agony was a pleasure as you reciprocated his intoxicating kiss, angry and violent as you teared at his lips. Your sharp teeth aggravated the wound on his lip, and you tasted blood on your tongue.

''Fucking brat-'' He instantly pulled back, his fingers grasping your jaw to keep you in place.

You shivered at his words, a new heat blooming over every surface of your body. Your cheeks tingled and you squirmed in his grip, squeezing your thighs together as you calculated your next move carefully.

"You're such a bastard!" You quirked your head as you breathlessly yelped, almost fearlessly before sliding your arms free of his hold and threaded them into his hair before pulling him in to capture another kiss, hotter and even more passionate than the last.

Phillip responded in an instant, letting his tongue slide against yours, hungrily whilst he tangled his free hand in your hair, gripping painfully, deepening the kiss, like it could be the last thing he ever does.

Your body seemed to burst into a flame of mingled rage and lust, and you knew he felt the same from the desperate, almost angry growl he made the sensation overwhelmed you both. 

Sinking your nails into his scalp, you pressed your hips hard against his erection, feeling him gasp into your mouth before lifting his head to take another look at you, his fingertips never leaving your jaw.

Phillip licked his lips unconsciously as he stared down at you, but before you could say anything, he had brought his face once more closer to yours, his eyes half-lidded and full of desire.

''And you're a fucking slut.'' Once more your hand was lifted in the air, intending to slap him for a second time, but he caught it as it swung for his face and took hold of your other before you could attempt it again. With one swift move, he maneuvered your body around and pinned both of your wrists in a firm grip behind your back before your brain could catch up to what was happening.

Head shaking, arms straining as you tried to break out of his hold, huffing and giving in when he only held onto you tighter, walking both of you closer to the wall, pressing your front hard against it. Panting, furious, your heartbeat thundered somewhere in your throat. The Commander's form was a solid taut weight caging you in, imposing, all muscle, a hard line of his desire against your lower back.

''Someone needs to fuck that attitude out of you, Y/N.'' The words made your toes curl and your hips arch, betraying how desperate you looked, splayed out on his command center for his pleasure. The side of his face was so close to yours that you could feel him breathing down on you, his lips at the shell of your ear.

The other hand that wasn’t currently wrapped around your wrists moved to hold your jaw, squeezing tightly to the point of discomfort.

Briskly, he released your arms, spinning around to pounce on the man before you and quickly pressed your back against the wall once more so you can be chest to chest.

''And that's gonna be you, Graves?'' You met his fire with your own, staring unflinchingly into the heated pools of stormy sea. The question was as close to begging as your pride would allow.

''No one else can. No one else can fuck you the way you deserve but me, soldier.'' He stated, face lowering to yours and his tone low and menacing, the promise of retribution sent shivers down your spine.

The grotesque snarl of words should have made you put him in his place, despise of the outcome. Any other day you would have, but instead, your body had different plans.

''Is that a threat, Commander?'' You croaked out, a smirk settling on your face. How you managed to still be coy in a situation where you knew you had no power was insane and the look on his face confirmed it as his fingers around your jaw grew tighter and you winced in pain. 

''Oh, I don't make threats, Sergeant. I make guarantees.'' There was that deep chuckle again. The one that vibrated up his throat until it bubbled out to bless your ears and slither goosebumps down your spine.

Darkly, he challenged your moral compass that was screaming for you to get away from his intoxicating presence. The smirk formed on his lips was wicked, provocative. The prey was finally caught.

''Let's see how far your arrogance can take you then, Commander.'' With a hint of sarcasm, you challenged him back, deliberately imbuing his title with a sensual cadence. His skin was flushing to you calling him by his rank, a blotchy red slowly encroaching from his throat to his cheeks. It was an interesting kind of power to have over someone. 

For a few seconds he just stared you down, eyes adapting the darkest shade of blue. The sensation simmering down in your abdomen was quickening the pace of your heartbeat trying to burst out of your ribcage in a mingle of fear and arousal. It was taking over every single nerve in your body and there was no way of stopping it, not that you desired to.

With a quick use of his brute strength he hoisted you up, having you scrambled to wrap your legs around his waist while his hands moved to your ass to hold you up.

''You won't even comment on the fact that someone could walk in right now and see you in such a mess, Y/N?'' Phillip murmured gravelly, his lips biting the soft skin of your throat intending to break the skin as he was backing you closer to the table behind you, quickly hoisting you to sit on it. He settled between your legs, hands gripping just above your knees.

''God, you must be so fucking desperate for it, huh?'' He was right, of course. The possibility of someone walking in was more than enough to let shame start creeping in your system and yet all it took was one look at his face. The way the moonlight was shining through the window to define his cheekbones even more, experience visible through the wrinkles decorating the corners of his eyes as they stared into your soul.

''You're taking your sweet time with this, Graves. I'm starting to think that you're all bark and no bite.'' You can’t help the smug smile that spread across your lips as you saw the flare of anger flash in his eyes, finding the way he was so quick to be irritated, quite fascinating.

That little defiant glint still sat in your eyes, and he was absolutely determined to remind you who was in charge by the end of the night.

"Oh, I'll show you how I bite.'' He growled, thrusting his clothed erection against your center, a loud whimper escaping your lips to the friction. 

Gasping, you felt his lips leaving a wet trail down the length of your jaw before he settled in the hollow beneath your ear, an erogenous zone he’d discovered, devoting his attentions there. All your body could do in response was cling to him, mewls and sighs falling haphazardly from your lips.

“I dream about your cunt,” He stated, lifting his head up, smoldering eyes locked on yours as your elbows struggled to keep your balance against the wooden surface.

"How it feels.  How it looks.  How it tastes. I dream of fucking ruining you till you can't move to save your life." Every filthy word out of his mouth was a direct attack to your throbbing core as he maneuvered your hips upwards to yank the fabric of your jeans down to your ankles, legs exposed to the cool air of the stone room.  Your gaze followed his, eyes glued hungrily on the obvious wet spots in your panties.

''Fuck- Do it then.'' Clearly, you weren't thinking when your mouth formed the words, "Fucking do it, already-" But it was spoken harshly between the ragged breaths of your desire, and it was all the invitation he needed.

"You're not the one who gets to make commands here," He growled, taking a sinful pride in the drawn out whimper that he had dug out from you.

''Pathetic.'' And so he lifted one of those large hands to your face and pressed his thumb into your mouth, the pad of it resting on your bottom row of teeth as he dragged your jaw down, forcing your mouth wide open.

Trembling with a sudden onslaught of unexpected arousal at having someone else's fingers between your lips, feeling the flutter in your soaked cunt again only this time it was more intense, fiercely with your legs shaking to the sensation.

Your hands moved on their own as Graves' thumbs pressed deeper into your mouth, gliding and pressing at your tongue as you slid them down the length of his body, feeling every defined muscle underneath his blue shirt, going lower and lower, until you were curving one palm around the shape of the Commander's cock confined within his dark shaded jeans.

Impatience took over you, lifting the hem of your shirt, hastily tugging the fabric up and throwing it to the side and before you could touch him again, his hands were at your sides, sliding over the mounds of your breasts and then there was another tug and a louder ripping sound as he teared your bra at the front.

His own pupils, now blown with a heated desire, locked into your glazed expression. Having his fingers toy with your mouth earlier had already caused a small string of saliva to run down your chin and he couldn't help the smirk starting to flicker onto his lips. He had barely started to touch you and you already looked all sorts of fucked up. 

Your outrage couldn't even register before his warm mouth was on your skin, sucking at your nipples, pinching and biting and rubbing the soothing pad of his thumb over each one after any rough treatment. The chill of the night air was an electrifying contrast to the warmth of his mouth and hands as you were openly moaning and writhing to the way he massaged and teased every inch of nakedness before him.

''Me or you?'' You hum innocently to his previous remark as you pressed your palm against him, stroking the long line of heat firmly, and he hissed as his hips bucked forward just as desperately, his hands suddenly coming up to catch both of your wrists, bringing them down to your sides, the grip just tight enough to sting.

Indignation flashed in those midnight blue eyes. There was something off from his normal heated gaze. This look he was giving you was more than just argumentative, more than just fired up. It was absolutely primal. The heat had shifted. While usually he was more reminiscent of a volcano during an eruption, now he seemed to be the moments before, it was a slow heat. Dangerous. 

"I'm not in the mood for games.'' Graves breathed heavily, bending over you to nip at your lips before hearing the sound of his belt touching the ground to finish what you started, freeing himself.

You couldn't tear off your eyes from the obscene sight in front of you as he took himself in one hand while the other came to rest high on your thigh, his thumb brushing against your core, tantalizingly close. He stroked himself once, twice, pressing himself against you and pausing for a moment, just long enough for you to grow restless.

He sighed, the sound more like a growl than anything, steam escaping from his nose.

''I should've done this a long time ago.'' He ripped your legs apart, tugging onto your dripping underwear until it was on the ground, grunting as your slick coated his fingers before he rubbed his cock against your entrance. Every part of your body tightened, a bare spark of pleasure almost exciting you when his cockhead scraped your clit.

You couldn't believe that someone you absolutely despised was giving you some of the best pleasure you'd ever felt. Wanton moans fell from your lips as he jackhammered your cunt. His hand tangled in your hair and yanked your head back.

''You like that hm? You like being treated as a little slut?'' His voice was raspy and full of lust before he pushed forward, drawing all air from your lungs with a loud yelp as he buried himself deep inside you.

''Commander-'' Despite your efforts, the call was loud, urgent. He didn’t start slowly. He was rough, punishing, desperate, taking you with everything he had, as though he was claiming you right where anyone could walk in to see it.

Phillip sped up his pace exponentially, sweat breaking out across his forehead. ''Answer me-'' You became a boneless mess under the power of his ruthless thrusting, slamming into you with such force that you were sure there would be bruises where his hip bones met yours tomorrow.

''Fuck- Yes, damn you!'' You mewled loudly, then covered your mouth with one hand, fearful of passersby. He pulled your hand away, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up into his eyes as he took you against the shaking table.

''I can tell by the look on your face." He said gruffly. ''You can’t get enough of me can you?'' You placed your forehead on his shoulder, embarrassed to look at him.

''Look at me, Y/N.'' He said in response to this. You slowly looked back at him. ''Good girl.'' He muttered, grabbing your hips and pounding into you.

His hips bucked slowly, riding his twitching length inside your warm folds as he withheld his own noises. ''Beg for it, go on." He gave a firm, sharp smack to your ass, gripping on it tightly whilst using the sound to hide the low groan he released.

He didn't want to hold back any longer, but he refused to let you have your way, especially when you were already so close to come undone under his touch. Your dripping cunt was leaking onto him with every deliberate thrust, letting him glide in and out with ease.

He hunched back over you , pressing his chest down onto you as much as he could without breaking his hold on your arms. "Fucking beg-" He gave a feral groan before sliding out of you without the intention of going back in. A strangled whine escaped you, once again, jerking your hips back against him, trying to provoke him, to get him inside, get him to continue, anything. He refused to relent.

"Whimpering doesn't count, doll." He whispered against your ear. His tone is hard, unyielding. Prick.

His stubbornness was torturous for the both of you. It was a battle to see who could break their composure first and he was about to go fucking berserk. Eventually, you lost it. It wasn't until he had pulled back and dragged his tip to the entrance of your sopping cunt once more that he finally heard you gasping a loud breath as he slowly prodded against the heat.

"Please- Fuck, just- please!'' Your desperate response seemed to please him enough, the sudden build-up of pressure and heat in your body was allowed to be released as his length was quick to plunge into your body, sending the entire table to lurch backwards slightly.

The sounds coming out of your mouth were obscene, not really caring that the two of you were doing such a private thing in a place that anyone could walk into at any moment.

He was not gentle, or tender but you hadn’t expected Phillip fucking Graves to be that. His thrusts came fast and hard as he took his pleasure cause that was what he thrived in. Take and take and take, though you gave gladly, growling out praise in ragged whispers that you couldn't barely grasp.

You grabbed tightly onto his shoulders, screaming out in delight as he fucked you into you in a brutal. You felt your legs tingle and your mind go numb. All you could focus on was the warm feeling in your stomach, the bundle of nerves within you going crazy.

The hot tears continued to pour down your cheeks with each merciless thrust ripping through your body as your teeth pierced the soft skin of your lip, the taste of iron touching your taste buds whilst the wet slaps of his body against yours filled the room, accompanying the pain shooting through your core.

''Crying? Is this too much for you, baby?'' There was sarcastic, mock-disappointment in his tone, the repetitive press into you and the wonderfully satisfying stretch of his cock only deepening the catharsis of the intimacy you were sharing with him.

He grabbed your hips and started pounding you with newfound vigor. You could feel yourself clenching around him. It wouldn't be long before you peaked. You dipped a hand between your legs and started rubbing your clit, willing the moment to come faster. You closed your eyes and sighed, both in pleasure and exasperation.

''Too good- Commander-'' This time, you needed no further prompting and there wasn’t a single hint of brattiness in your tone as you submitted to his request fully, whining for him. Waves of ecstasy pulsed through your body, overwhelming you. Noises you didn't recognize poured out of your lips as your body began to spasm and convulse around him.

''That's my fucking girl.'' His last words came out in a rough growl as he pulled out of you again, before thrusting back in, so hard that you started seeing stars and shriek with pleasure.

The room was filled with your sounds, no longer able to control the moans and whimpers that left you as pounded into you, white dots clouding your vision to your orgasm overwhelming your body hard, shattering as he thrusted and swirled, setting off a wild pulsing in your clit that triggered your insides, and you came all over his cock with a scream followed by a shudder of shaky breath.

Graves kept his ever-the-rougher pace, holding you tighter and tighter, but you felt the slight stutter in his hips that suggested that he was close to his own climax. He started gasping out sentences, heavy statements that surmounted to desperation. ''You're mine, fuck- all mine-''

You could feel yourself growing light-headed in the best way as his embrace restricted your breathing to a further degree, and you gasped sharply as he said your name, the syllables transforming into a vicious growl just as he sank his teeth into your shoulder, deep enough to draw blood and deep enough to make you cry out in pain. 

Cleansing, freeing pain, the kind that purged every transgression you knew you’d enacted against him, and him against you.

He followed shortly after as he began to shake subtly, his movements sporadic and wild as he lost control of his body. You surrendered yourself to his control as he pumped aggressively into you, dictating what he needed from your body as he arrived upon completion whilst tightening the grip on your hair almost painfully as he emptied himself inside you.

The weight of his body collapsing against you felt almost comforting in that moment, gasping and absentmindedly rubbing soothing circles into your scalp where he’d just been tugging your hair by the roots.

''So..'' he started, his voice strained and weak. ''Learned your lesson yet?'' Cocky bastard.

You chuckled quietly, and you could feel him smile against your skin.

''Think I might need a few more lessons, Commander.'' Shamelessly, you admitted, feeling your cheeks heat up as he lifted his head to take another look at you.

''I might have to thank the fucking Scot after all.''

[ricciardo133]

Winter Break 2025

maxiel, weight gain, body worship, pregnancy briefly alluded to

-

Daniel always loves the way Max looks during the winter months. As Max steps into Daniel's Monaco apartment, Daniel eyes the tight fit of Max's running shorts along his softening hips.

"So, you have new merch?" Max asks, oblivious to Daniel's ogling. Daniel snaps to attention and follows Max into the living room.

"Well, obviously. As your new sponsor, we gotta make a whole Verstappen collection," Daniel adds with jazz hands for pizazz. "And I wanted to get your approval before we send the designs to print and you're stuck wearing all this for a year."

"It can look like anything," Max says, unbothered.

"Oh, good. I'll tell them we're a go on the Enchanté-branded assless chaps."

Max laughs, eyes crinkling in mirth. "Yeah, perfect for Media Day. I assume there is a matching cowboy hat."

Daniel feels his cheeks flush, picturing Max actually wearing that combination and nothing else.

"Just try on the samples and humor me, Maxy."

Thankfully, he's now not the only one blushing. They've been friends for long enough to know how to edge the unspoken line without ever crossing it, neither ever making that final push to send them spiraling onto one side or the other.

"Yeah, alright," Max says. "I'll do a fashion show."

Daniel claps and leads Max over to the dining room table where an already-opened cardboard box holds an assortment of red, blue, white, and orange apparel. He holds up one of the pull-overs, assessing which to try first.

"They're just the rough drafts, so let me know if you think they look like ass."

"No, Daniel, they look very cool. I like the classic look. And the big "É." Very you."

Daniel feels his dick twitch in his pants, thinking of Max branded with his label, marked as his, for the world to see. He tosses the shirt into Max's arms and pulls out a pair of summery shorts to match. "Just give these a spin. I sent them your size, so they should fit."

Daniel has seen how deep the flush can go over the years, like an old-timey thermometer measuring of how flustered his younger friend can get. He bites his full lips as his neck turns pink.

"I, uh, might be a bit bigger right now. But they'll fit for Melbourne. I'll look better."

"You look great now, Max."

Max spins on his heels and into the adjacent half-bath, door closing, as if Daniel hadn't seen him almost naked before. Daniel sits on the barstool at the kitchen island.

Sometimes he hates gooning this fucking horny friendship line and wishes he could just buck up the nerve to say something. Anything. Maybe now that they're not somewhat teammates, it'd be okay? Or is it inappropriate for a patron to think about cupping their client's ass and spreading his soft flesh-

"Okay, remember, they'll fit better in a few months."

Daniel looks up and feels his body tighten as he takes in the sight of him. Max squirms in the pull-over, zipper done all the way up. The orange sleeves hug his full arms, and the white, soft fabric stretches tight along his chest. Oh God, his tits, Daniel thinks guiltily before trying and failing to think about the design aspect of all this and not how Max's soft stomach pulls the pullover's fabric taught. His fuller belly peeks over the top of the shorts. His hips, always seemingly begging to be held, curve and slope down to full thighs. Max shaved. His normally fuzzy legs smooth as he shifts his weight on one bare foot to the other.

"I know," Max says, voice nervy. "It happens every year. I'm on holiday, but I'll get better."

"Don't say that," Daniel gets up. He feels the line veering closer, like pushing too hard on a circuit he knows by heart. He stops just an inch beyond appropriateness. "You look great."

"Daniel." He can't parse the pleading note in Max's voice, something shaky.

"You always look so good this way," Daniel goes on, watching Max's big blue gaze get thrown in starker contrast as his cheeks flush again. Max even shaved his face. He looks so young, like when he was his teamma-

"Daniel," Max says again. "I just feel too big."

"You're perfect, Max. You normally don't wear these things zipped all the way up, though. More like this,"

The line. Daniel crosses it, fingers gently pulling the pull-over's zipper down at an agonizingly slow rate. He didn't realize Max was holding his breath until he shudders a shaky exhale.

"Does it feel good?" Daniel asks, hands trailing up the sleeves, feeling the soft fabric casing Max's biceps.

"Yes. It's good."

"And not too tight here?" Daniel lets his hands draw inwards along Max's chest. Seeing he's already blown past the point of no return, he lets his palms rest over Max's full breasts. "Is it okay?"

Max nods, fast. Through parted reddened lips, Daniel sees Max's perfect, glistening tongue against his straight teeth.

Daniel squeezes. Max keens, a note Daniel has never heard from the other man. He rubs, making gentle circles over hardening nipples.

"Oh, Daniel," Max whispers.

"Maxy," Daniel returns, hands trailing lower, feeling the full rise of his belly. "Breathe."

Max acquiesces, belly shuddering. Daniel relishes the soft, pliable skin below the warm fabric.

"You look so good like this, Max," he says, stepping even closer. He lets his gaze dip, feeling Max's head lower to rest their foreheads together as Daniel stares at his soft belly. He rubs gentle lines around it, dick hardening as Max lets his body go even softer. He could even look three months pregnant, how round and full he fills out the top.

Max whispers his name again and then again as Daniel pulls up the fabric and finally touches smooth skin and then once more as Daniel's fingers dip into the waistband of the shorts, exploring back as Daniel presses flush to squeeze his hands into Max's full, soft ass.

"You deserve to feel good," Daniel says into Max's ear, words falling on the red nape of his neck. "At every weight, you deserve to be so fucking worshiped, Max."

"Oh my God, Daniel."

Daniel squeezes again, more firmly this time as he traces up to hold his pillowy hips. They always look so bitable in his fireproofs, and now they're filling out even more in the too-tight shorts, begging to be gripped. To be used for everything Daniel has wanted for years.

"I know," Daniel says, suddenly self-conscious, "this is, uh, a lot."

"It's good," Max asserts, his own hands flying to Daniel's back as if to keep him in place. "If it's good for you."

Daniel snorts a laugh, letting his hips rut forwards. His stiff cock meets Max's soft thigh. Max whines.

"More than good, Maxy." He presses his lips into heated, soft skin at Max's shoulder. "You're perfect like this. So fucking perfect." He reels at Max pressing his own hard length into Daniel's hips. It's bliss. Max's body, warm and eager and full and, for now, his.

"Alright, so, should I try on the others?" Max asks, a gentle mirth in his tone.

"Yeah, let me help you take these off first."

[mystisophia]

I love how Starker were obsessed with each other before they even met in person.

So, hear me out:

Let’s start with Peter. It’s already been confirmed that he’s the kid Tony saved in Iron Man 2 (this is further reinforced in Deadpool & Wolverine, where, in the scene with Happy and Deadpool in Happy’s office, we see the same photo of Peter and Tony that Tony had in Endgame but Peter’s face is covered by the helmet that the kid in Iron Man 2 was wearing, the helmet hides that part of the photo, so it's even more obvious this fact-)

So, knowing that Peter is the kid from Iron Man 2, we can say he admired Tony from a very young age, an Iron Man fanboy through and through. His admiration is evident throughout the movies.

And if we consider something outside the movies, in the animated series Ultimate Spider-Man, Season 1, Episode 5 ("Flight of the Iron Spider"), it's implicitly stated that Peter has a "man crush" on Tony. This episode showcases even more of Peter’s admiration and knowledge of Tony <3

So, for Peter, Iron Man isn’t just a hero or a role model- he’s his damn celebrity crush.

Now, let’s move on to Tony.

Tony didn’t just randomly show up at Peter’s apartment in Civil War. No, he had already planned to do so (maybe not at that moment but the moment required it). He had a suit ready for him. And (important detail) the moment he talked to Natasha about needing backup, Peter was immediately on his mind. It was his time to meet him, the perfect recruit.

So, I can only imagine Tony one day randomly discovering Spider-Man’s videos and his heroic feats and becoming completely fascinated.

His powers. His abilities.

"Wow! Nice catch. 3,000 pounds, 40 miles an hour—it's not easy."

His moves. Everything about him, his persona.

I mean, yes, Tony had a damn Norse god, Hulk, a super-spy, a 100-year-old supersoldier, an insanely skilled archer, and a literal chaos witch on his team. But no. No. Peter was something else, Spiderman was something else.

Tony Freaking Stark spent hours and hours designing a suit for a person he had never met and didn’t even know would want to be on the team.

But come on. He’s Tony Stark. He gets what he wants.

And, honestly, who wouldn’t want to be an Avenger?

They’re the Avengers, man!

Tony spent hours in his workshop designing and perfecting the Spider-Man suit, nearly putting it on par with the Iron Man armor. Obsessed.

(Also, he hated that "onesie" Peter wore. Hehe.)

And if we want to go dirtier with this… Considering Tony’s resources and how easily he could dig up information on someone, it wouldn’t be surprised if he found out Peter was a fanboy. Maybe from some old internet post, a search history, or something like that. And you know that would only boost his ego and make him even more confident that Peter would say yes.

And back to talking about the devil… Natasha, The knowing glances that Tony and Natasha exchanged when in "Civil War" they were considering their options... In my "delulu mind" by the glaces they gave each other, Natasha knew, she definitely knew about Peter since before

So Tony and Natasha were definitely close, not as much as Natasha and Steve, but still. So I can totally imagine Tony finding out about Peter and telling Natasha about him, all excited, explaining how he’d be a great addition to the team.

And then… they meet.

And Tony’s obsession with keeping Peter safe begins.

To Tony, Peter was fragile, someone he couldn’t afford to lose (cof cof Infinity War cof cof 😭😭😭).

And Peter? He became obsessed with proving himself, proving that he was "good enough", that he belonged in this world, in this job, in his life. That Tony didn’t need to treat him like he was made of glass.

God, they make me sick.

Now imagine their mutual obsession once they realize they’re in love. And eventually start a relationship.

Oh god- that makes me even sicker

Anyway, I had to share this. I’m absolutely and definitely NOT NORMAL about them, you can tell.

~ mystisophia 🍒

(sorry for my bad english/google translator ugh-)