margo scribbles

AO3 has gone down for a rest, but I realized that I’d been visiting it less and less over the last few days—mostly just to read various little sketches about peterfrank here

#petershane "Keep quiet, you don't want your mentor to find out what a slut you've got under his wing," Shane whispers right next to his ear as the boy whines beneath him, clawing at Shane's forearms and looking ahead, terrified of being seen. He feels the other man's cock thrusting into him in rough spots, literally coaxing more and more sounds out of him. He felt like an absolute wimp as precum dripped down his thighs from arousal, his whole body responding positively to the man's actions. It was wrong, it couldn't be allowed, but he still refused again and again in this situation, and again and again he couldn't push him away. It was both a curse and a damn punishment.

User margoscribbles outside of Twitter with cats at work and cats at home

okay, i understand… You really do like #petershane . Should I write some kind of sketch about them?

#petershane , but it’s Peter living in the lab with Mr. Stark, and Shane breaking into a safe building with his group.

I really wanted to write a kinktober sketch yesterday for PeterFrank with knives, but I slept the whole day after a 24-hour shift and didn’t make it in time😭 Should I finish writing it outside the day?

TW: non-con kinktober day 24: drugging #peterfrank #spideycastle #spideyskull Maybe, in some ways, DeWolf was right. Peter really had to live his own life sometimes. Separate the superhero from a regular student. Yes, of course, the man spider and Peter Parker were one and the same, but that never meant he had to be a recluse, did it? He just needed to take a break. Try to understand what it’s like, live like an ordinary student. Of course, he was still watching Ned. He watched his social media, somehow remembering where they were hanging out and what they were doing. It may have been a little abnormal and reminiscent of stalking, but it didn’t hurt anyone, did it? He tried to convince himself of this even when he found himself in the same club where Ned and MJ used to hang out. Gaze tried to catch his old friends as the crowd pushed him towards the bar by machine gun. The gaze was wracked by the alcohol bottles before he returned him to the crowd, trying to find a familiar face. “What will you drink?” the question is harsh, causing Peter to turn around again. He stares at the bartender, looking away, gliding through the bar menu on the counter. Peter didn’t know anything about alcohol. He called something that was at least somewhat familiar to him from Ned’s stories. Turns away again, returning his attention to the dance floor. It was easy to understand that Parker had not been in such places before. The lost gaze, the lack of vigilance and, of course, the glass that leaves the guy unnoticed. The first few gulps were taken by machine and ignored. Peter doubts that he is in principle able to get drunk, given his mutation, but after the glass has run down, he realizes that he was wrong about the big one. The consciousness wobbles, the guy himself is lost in space, the music becomes much louder. He’s lost in space, looking for a way out of this damn club, trying to get outside as soon as possible. The chill in the street hits his face, Parker breathes out the freezing autumn air with a full chest, pressing his back against the brick wall. He moans and feels how bodies touch someone else’s hands. He feels the hot breath in his ear and whines, not knowing if it is a hallucination or reality. “Hush, daffodil... I’m holding you, right?” the whisper of a familiar voice almost glows, but suddenly Peter disappears completely in others' hands, feeling inexpressible security. The darkness accompanied his consciousness for a while, until he felt his hands hot again, not just on his waist, but everywhere. The crackle sounds right above his ear as the guy feels now what is going on completely. The coarse tremor is felt between his hips, the other member stretches the delicate walls, and the neck burns from the cords, interspersed with scratches from the brush.  Peter tries to move his hands, tries somehow to push away the other body from him, but realizes that his hands are handcuffed to the bed. He fights once, twice, but nothing comes out. He won’t be free. He thinks of his own power, but at the same moment he feels other people’s fingertips circling a device on the back of his head. “You create incredibly useful things, boy,” the man chuckles, looking into the foggy brown eyes. “I couldn’t have done anything without your genius.” “Frank...” A quiet growl covers up with a rough kiss and a sharp last push, which allows the man to finish far from the last time this night.

kinktober day 23: vibrators #hucklerobby It was a disgusting idea, the most vile. They shouldn’t have done it, damn it! They had agreed upfront that their relationship would have nothing to do with work, and in the end… In the end, no matter how much Robby berated himself and proclaimed himself an old pervert, he couldn’t resist pressing the buttons on the remote, watching his resident’s body tense up and his legs buckle from the stimulation. Obviously, it was Dennis’s idea. Put a remote-controlled vibrator inside himself and give the remote to Robby? Of course it was his idea, damn it. He knew Michael would never even have thought of it, let alone suggested it! In the end, finding himself in such a hot yet embarrassing situation, Whitaker feels his underwear soaked through with arousal. It wasn’t just arousing—it was driving him insane. The way the vibrator turned on without any warning, especially when Dennis didn’t even have time to notice Robbie somewhere nearby. “I need some advice, there’s a complicated histor-y-y…” A sharp vibration nearly makes the guy’s legs buckle. He grabs the counter and looks at Trinity, trying to pretend nothing happened. Of course Trinity didn’t buy that bullshit. She looks at her best friend with suspicion and frowns. She only needs to lean forward an inch to hear the buzzing. It was barely audible in the bustle of the ER, but if you concentrated… “Huckleberry,” her voice was serious and full of disgust for this gay ass. “What is that sound?” “You know what, I’ll ask Robby for advice,” he dodges the question, which only provokes even more indignation from his friend. “Huckleberry!”

HG!AU, but this is Peter, who lost his mentor last year and is forced to go out into the arena again this year. What can he do, against the Capitol’s favorites, who for years have not only borne the burden of a winner, but also trained others to win. #peterfrank #spideyskull #spideycastle

The sullen gaze of his brown eyes slid over the worn ice, as if memorizing every scrape and every detail. Frank didn’t know if he would ever find himself here again. Not that he was being kicked off the rink forever, but it would never be the same as before. He would never again step onto this ice as a hockey player. His helmet and uniform lay behind him on the bench while the man himself sat on the boards, bidding farewell to his youth and to the work of almost his entire life. He could still remember breaking his nose at his first practice. He remembered how he had first put younger Frank on skates. All of it had happened on this damn rink, and now… now it all seemed like nothing more than a happy past. A noise comes from the entrance. He sees a young figure skater gliding past the stands, preparing to step onto the ice. His gaze slides to the clock as Castle notes that his time is up. This kid rented the whole rink for a few hours in the evenings. And for what? To stage dances here? Frank was openly irritated by all that gay crap those pretty boys performed on the ice. Simply disgusting. “Excuse me, sir, are you finished?” Peter asks cautiously, tossing his things onto the bench nearby and setting water and napkins on the boards. “I just wanted to warm up a little before my coach gets here. I didn’t think the rink was occupied…” “It’s free now,” the man grunts rudely, vaulting over the boards. He scoops up his things, heading toward the rink exit. Without even thinking, he clips the kid with his shoulder, letting him fall onto the cool floor and leaving him bewildered and slightly hurt. And, it seems, with a small bruise on his ass. #spideycastle #spideyskull #peterfrank Please share your thoughts in the comments! Should we continue?

figure skating AU! where Peter is a promising young singles figure skater, while Frank is a hockey player already at the twilight of his career #peterfrank #spideyskull #spideycastle let me know if you want to see a sketch about this

Hi, everyone! I can see that I’m getting more and more engagement, especially on my recent posts. I’m truly so grateful to all of you—it makes me incredibly happy that my work resonates with you. Since you guys are all from different countries, I’d like to ask you for advice. I try to post in English, but unfortunately, I still end up having to rely on a translator or AI for help with translation. I know Twitter has an automatic translator, and I’d like to post in my native language from the start, but I get so insecure that everyone will stop reading my posts and sketches then😭

I have so many thoughts about these two, but they’re all so dirty that I’m embarrassed to share them #spideyskull #spideycastle #peterfrank

Sometimes even superheroes need to let off steam. #spideyskull #spideycastle #peterfrank

Oh yes, Peter, I know you’d really love to bury your face between this old man’s thighs. #peterfrank #spideyskull #spideycastle

#kinktober day 9: discipline; orgasm denial #peterfrank #spideyskull #spideycustle Frank Castle was a man of discipline. A soldier, a former Marine, although he always said that there was no such thing as a former Marine. It was something that showed in him constantly. Peter might even have said it was the very essence of who he was. Discipline, and not just at work, but at home, even in their relationship. Frank was strict with himself, and sometimes, he was strict with Peter. If it was something that constantly irritated Parker in their everyday life, then in other circumstances… Perhaps he even felt a certain satisfaction when that discipline of Frank’s carried over into the bedroom. In his general understanding of sex, Peter would never have thought that he liked being so openly dominated, but with Frank… He had stopped noticing when he deliberately started “acting up,” as Castle called it, or even went out of his way to annoy him, just to get a little more roughness, a little more… more of that very Marine who made his thighs grow damp. Castle was no fool. He knew Peter was doing it on purpose. He knew Peter was quite the little schemer. Did Frank want to correct that behavior? No, not exactly… Perhaps sometimes it was useful for him, too. He really did need to blow off some steam every now and then and know that there was at least one situation he could always keep firmly and unquestioningly under control. He would always be able to keep Peter under his control. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” the boy whines, hopping across the couch in an attempt to evade the grip of that heavy hand. “Peter, this is fucking not funny anymore! All you had to do was be a little patient! Who the hell is going to clean this up now?!” Their entire little kitchen was a disaster zone of chili. Frank had apparently told the boy several times to wait and keep his hands off the pot, but no! He just had to taste it. And now the chili wasn’t just in the pot anymore, but all over the floor, the walls, and every inch of the kitchen cabinets. The boy was a fucking catastrophe. “Frank, you know I’m no angel…” Peter admits, eventually climbing onto the ceiling. “But I swear, this time it really was an accident!” One leg dangles carelessly from the ceiling, giving Castle the opportunity to pull the boy down, from the ceiling to the floor. He doesn’t drag him back into the kitchen to clean up the mess he’s made. No, Frank intends to teach the boy a lesson in patience. His whole body trembles, his pale skin, scattered with moles, glistening with sweat as Peter practically begs for mercy. His hands are bound with thick, coarse rope, just like his thighs. The Marine has left him absolutely no chance of getting out of this situation. Had they ever discussed a safe word? It seems Peter could really use one right about now. His juices have already soaked the bedsheets, while the boy himself is pushed to his absolute limit. Frank has brought him to the brink more times than he can count. Tears have dried on his cheeks, and half-moon marks from his fingernails are already imprinted in his palms. Fuck, he wants to come so unbearably badly. He’s whined about it, he’s begged, but Castle doesn’t seem to care. “Patience, boy. That’s what you need to learn by heart,” the man repeats once again, denying the boy that oh-so-welcome orgasm. “I’ve learned! I swear I’ve learned, but please, please…” the boy nearly screams, prompting nothing more than an amused smirk from the man. “No, boy. You’ve definitely not learned your lesson,” he says, rising from the bed. “I’ll give you some more time to think about it.” “Frank!”