#IronSpider Request

[spiderlinging]

I'm feeling greedy on my birthday 🎉 but only have one request from you all as a gift... 👀 Starker fic recs.

But really, it's a gift for everyone.

If you need inspiration, I have a list of what to consider:

What's your favorite fic that...

...makes you laugh the hardest?

...makes you sob every time?

...makes you need a fan to cool yourself down 🥵?

...is the best fix-it fic (Endgame or NWH)

...is the best AU

...is the best omegaverse

...you desperately want a sequel of?

...doesn't get the love it deserves

...is the slowest of slow burns

...is the most realistic/in character

[starkerscoop]

Hi!! Au interviewer Peter and regular Tony, Peter has to interview Tony on stark industries projects and what not, all while Tony is just thinking about how hot Peter is, then at the end of the interview Peter asks about Tony’s love life for “the ladies wondering” and Tony is just so attracted to Peter, that he asks him on a date, and they go from there! *I really want you to just build off of this!* (I love your blog!!)

Hi! (Thank you so much!!!) I know you sent this a while ago, so I'm sorry for the delay, but here it is :)

also on ao3

-

When Pepper mentioned that Tony hadn’t been to an interview in a while, he’d sighed and resigned himself to attending another invasive interrogation that made him want to jump from the roof of his own tower.

He never expected that an interview could change his life so drastically. For the better, even.

Tony had groaned and whined with the force of a toddler denied candy, refusing to leave his lab when the dreaded day came. It took Rhodey and Happy’s combined force for him to get to the interview on time and look presentable. Tony’s threats fell upon deaf ears, and there he sat, waiting for his interviewer with a mug of coffee warming his hands.

Someone entered the room, and Tony sighed quietly, his momentary peace disrupted.

A hand entered his line of vision, followed by a voice that said, “Hi! My name is Peter Parker. I’ll be interviewing you today.”

Tony grasped the soft hand to give it a polite shake and looked up from his coffee, his voice catching in his throat and stealing his words from his mouth. Warm chestnut eyes met his own and softened the longer Tony remained silent, slight unease creeping into them. Tony admired the rosy swell of his cheeks, the ruffled eyebrows that stubbornly reached for the sky, and the sharp jut of his jawline, so prominent that he ached to trace his fingers along the bone and see if it could cut.

This was easily the most gorgeous person Tony had ever laid eyes upon, and he’d done a lot of that in his time. One could say he was a bit of an expert.

“Is everything okay?” Peter asked uncertainly.

Tony’s throat relaxed, releasing his voice into the air, which seemed to be increasingly warmer. “Everything is just fine.”

He gave Peter an obvious once-over, allowing the meaning behind his words to register in Peter’s brain, who flushed a deep red.

Peter graced him with a small smile that he was clearly trying to contain. It felt like a victory. Tony leaned back in his chair and relaxed. Suddenly, coming to this interview didn’t feel like the worst thing in the world.

“If you’re ready, we can get started with the interview,” Peter said, his face having returned to its usual color.

Tony grinned cheekily. “I was born ready.”

Peter alerted the crew that they were ready to film. When the cameras started rolling, he introduced himself and Tony to the viewers, all the while maintaining a smile that gave Tony chest pains. They got started with the questions.

“Which industry trends are you most excited about right now?” Peter asked. His hands were free of cards, his questions either memorized or made up on the spot.

Tony laughed, throwing his head back. “I don’t follow trends. I set them.”

“So, which of your trends are you hoping others will follow?” Peter questioned once his own laughter died down.

Tony steepled his hands. “I’m very big on clean energy. Everyone else may be behind on that, but if they could try to keep up with me, that would be great. We’ve only got one planet.”

Peter nodded in agreement. “What are some of the most important lessons you’ve learned throughout your career?”

“Don’t use your interns for coffee,” Tony joked. “Well, maybe sometimes. But that’s a lot of wasted potential.”

As Peter continued to pose his questions, Tony gave him his answers on autopilot. He’d been asked everything under the sun in all the interviews he’d gone to, and he had a response prepared for it all. Instead of putting thought into his responses, he allowed himself to get distracted by Peter, the way his hands waved about animatedly as he talked, and the gleaming curls Tony was tempted to tug at.

He wondered how soft they were. His fingers twitched, and he forced them still, gripping his mug tighter. Peter was too delicate for him, too easy to ruin, but something in Tony rebelled at the mere idea of staying away.

Tony turned back just in time to hear Peter say, “Now, on behalf of all the ladies wondering, I’d like to ask: is there a special someone in your life?”

“No,” Tony said simply, “but there can be.”

He gave Peter a suggestive look, leaving no room for doubt as to what he was implying.

“You don’t mean…” Peter trailed off, disbelieving.

Tony was caught off guard. How could Peter ever doubt his own beauty? It seemed impossible to Tony, who was all too aware of his own looks but even more so Peter’s.

“I do.”

Silence stretched on for an eternal moment, Tony’s heart pounding fiercely, the thunderous beats echoing in his ears.

“Let’s start with dinner first,” Peter said, flustered. “If that’s okay.”

Tony’s heartbeat eased. “That’s more than okay.”

-

Tony had picked the place. Of course he did. He always had impeccable taste, especially when it came to impressing someone. The restaurant was modern but intimate, with dim lighting that cast soft shadows over the sleek decor. Tony didn’t care much about the atmosphere—he was too focused on Peter, seated across from him, looking like something out of a dream.

They’d ordered drinks before Tony even realized he was staring at Peter again. His eyes traced the curve of Peter’s lips as he took a sip of his wine, the way his fingers gripped the stem of the glass so delicately. Tony’s mind wandered, his thoughts a mix of admiration and desire, and before he knew it, he was lost in the quiet space between their conversations, the comfortable tension.

Peter, meanwhile, was trying to hold it together. His palms were a little sweaty. Was it the nerves? Or maybe the fact that Tony Stark, the infamous genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist—had just asked him out on a date? He kept catching Tony’s eyes and finding it hard to look away. Tony was... well, Tony. He was sharp, confident, and clearly well aware of the effect he had on people. And yet, here he was, being kind, patient, and even a little soft.

“So,” Peter said, trying to steer his thoughts away from dangerous territory, “You’ve worked on some pretty crazy projects. I mean, who else can build an AI-powered suit of armor that’s practically invincible? What’s the next big leap for you?”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “You want to talk about the next big leap after I ask you to dinner?” He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping a little lower, more intimate. “That’s... that’s some pretty advanced multi-tasking, kid.”

Peter swallowed, feeling a warmth spread over his face. “I—uh, well... just... curious, I guess?”

Tony laughed, the sound like music in Peter’s ears. “That’s what I like about you, Parker. Always curious.” He took another sip of his wine, eyes lingering on Peter. “The next big thing? Well, you’re looking at it.” He gestured to the two of them with a quick flick of his hand. “Right here. Right now.”

Peter blinked, unsure if he’d heard him correctly.

Tony’s smirk was playful, but there was an undeniable sincerity in his eyes. “I don’t make moves on just anyone, you know. But you? You’re something else.”

Peter’s chest tightened with a mix of excitement and anxiety. “I’m not... I’m not sure I deserve all this attention.”

Tony leaned in even closer, making Peter's heart race. “Let me make it clear, Peter. You’re the only one I’ve been thinking about all night.”

Peter could barely process the words as they hit him. He was pretty sure his brain had stopped working entirely. “You really mean that?”

Tony’s smile softened. “I do.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, the weight of their shared moment filling the space between them. Peter’s thoughts began to spiral again, and he reached for his water, taking a long sip just to give himself something to do with his hands. When he lowered the glass, his eyes met Tony’s again. There was no more hiding it now.

“Tony,” Peter said, almost shy, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” Tony’s voice was light, but there was a knowing glint in his eyes.

“What... what if we did this again? Not just dinner. Maybe... something more?” Peter’s voice trailed off, unsure if he was being too forward.

Tony leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look on his face. “You mean a date?” he asked, teasing, though the warmth in his voice was unmistakable.

Peter nodded, his heart hammering in his chest.

Tony leaned in, lightly brushing his fingers against Peter’s hand, his touch sending a spark through Peter’s body. “You’re in for one hell of a ride, kid.”

[lixy-u]

Requesting about peter listening to his boyfriend tony playing piano for the first time and asked him to play a thousand years by Christina perry

Since you don’t specify the timeline and the request is not so detailed so I’ve thrown in some of my ideas as a plus. This is post no way home where Tony got resurrected but his arm where he wielded the gauntlet is heavily injured and also Peter had been waiting for him. 

My English sucks.

I'll put this on my daily dose of starker collection too.

___

It was a quiet night. 

A night where no cloud could be seen in the sky, leaving a single star shining so brightly, the moonlight reflected on his frame creating a lone shadow on the wall behind like he was lost in time. He was surrounded by many skyscrapers and Tony is a futuristic guy, he loved tech - heck he invented many of them but somehow he didn’t fit right in this scenery which is quite impossible considering the fact that he's Tony Stark.

Tony took a deep breath letting the fresh air filled his lung, he felt alive again after a long time. 

The last few months had been an absolute disaster for him, from creating a time machine to bring everyone back, leaving his seemingly “completed” family behind to sacrifice himself by going against Thanos and finally being resurrected. 

He had come back only to find out that his wife - now no longer his wife (but why did he feel so relieved ?) 

Pepper moved on. 

He lost 7 Morgan’ birthdays. 

Avengers had gotten several new faces. 

And…Peter. 

Gosh, how he was defeated when that boy died in his arms. He spent the following few years living in misery, got married in a hurry, he got a family, a wife and a kid yet he still felt it was not enough. He felt cold when touching his wife, when his lips pressed on hers, all he didn't feel the tingling sensation when his finger traced along Peter’s hand when the boy was working on his suit. 

That thought scared him. 

He tried to keep himself busy but everytime he looked at what he had he always imagined what could have been.

When Scott talked about time travel, he was afraid that everything could change and brought back his own dilemma about the kid, Tony could fool anyone but himself. He knew that he wanted this and the deal was sealed when the boy ‘s face appeared on the holographic screen, Tony knew he was ready. He's more ready than he ever was. 

He got the boy back but then he died. 

Waking up a second time just to discover again that Peter was no longer here drove him mad, he spent time searching for him again like a drunken sailor for his lost treasure. And when the truth finally came out, he couldn't breath, he felt sick, his ears full of water, he couldn't hear at all. 

How dare he ? He promised Peter he would be there yet all he ever did was bring pain to the boy, May’s dead, Peter is alone and the only one who remembered him is an old broken man. 

Not his lover, not his best friend, just Tony. 

But Peter was more than delighted to have Tony back, he basically beamed every time he saw Tony, lab time, late night movies, a casual touch here and there.

Tony knows it was coming back. 

His somewhat normal routine. Getting tortured by his own turmoil. 

He wished he could be more than a mentor figure. 

The boy grew up so beautiful. 

His body is lean, not a too muscular figure, but Tony knows how his crazy is his core strength, enough for Tony kept on drooling over the boy whenever he came over and wished he could bend Peter over and fuck him on the desk. 

Tony sighed, staring at his tented up pant. 

Peter grew up, it's legal now. Devil whispered in his ears. 

But he does not have the bravery to tear through this thin line of a relationship they had, they are each other's last link of sanity. The boy needed him like he needed the boy but does the boy also crave him like he did ? Staring at his plump ass all the time, the cherry lips, the biteable collarbone, the sweet smile, the breathy call “Mister Stark” causing butterflies in his stomach. 

Yeah, he is only Mister Stark. Nothing more.

Tony frustrated pulled his hairs then stared at his hand, the hand where he wielded the gauntlet, the skin burned, he has a lot of scars being Iron Man and an engineer but this level of scars will never go away, it's a reminder of he has once lost Peter. 

He let his thoughts wander for a moment, on a night like this his mom used to play piano while waiting for his father to come home, in her melody he could hear the longing, the sadness, it was the time where his usually preserved and closed mother displayed her emotions the most. 

His eyes caught something in the corner.

A Steinway piano, how convenient. 

For a moment he found himself lost in their family old manor where the same white Steinway was placed near his parents bedroom. 

His gaze softened, he walked towards the Steinway and opened up the fall-board, his fingers brushed against the nearest key, cold, untouched. He pressed the key down, a short sound came out and Tony feel drawn to it, he sat down, like the same ways his mother did, right hand on the keys, one note, two note, three notes, a simple twinkle twinkle little stars song came out but his movement is stiff due to the injured hand, he can feel the strain nerves, he lift his hands up, his hand trembling. 

He smiled, it was not the same crappy and crackly sound he had when he copied his mother melodies on his cheap piano toy, this is a Steinway, the crystal clear sound ringing in his ears bringing him back further to the past. Tony placed both his hands on the piano, straightened his back, closed his eyes, his fingers danced across all the keys. 

Just this moment where he can prove that Tony Stark does have a heart. 

_____

Peter walked out of the elevator, telling FRIDAY to not alert Tony, wanting this to be a surprise when he had gathered all his courage to confess. 

It was truly a miracle to have your childhood crush back where he thought he had lost him, furthermore he remembers Peter, he is not affected by Dr.Strange spell, this feels like a dream. 

Tony Stark is Peter’s savior. 

When he came back, he could no longer tear his eyes from the man, he is desperate for his touch, to feel him alive, to ensure his existence was here. He feels ashamed despite Tony telling him that it was not his fault but the wounded keep on bleeding, what happened keep coming back and cursing in his ears on how he failed to keep Tony legacy. 

Peter had spent his childhood admiring his hero and spent all his teenage years loving the same man, now in his adult years, the love hidden in his heart grew only stronger to the point it suffocated him seeing Pepper and Tony together. He knows he shouldn't be like this, but an ugly part of him cheers a bit when they get separated. He kept on coming to the Tower, staying in the place where Pepper should have been if Tony hadn't sacrificed himself, touching what could have never been his and lust after a figure he should consider a mentor. 

But tonight is a quiet night. 

He is 23 now, he's not a child any more; if he wasted any time Tony could be with anyone else; even if he failed... (that's hurt), he could tell the truth without regret later on (oh, who could he fool?). He will regret it, but a tug in his heart when he saw Tony having his hand on a supermodel’s waist is killing him) 

Peter walked through the room when he heard a melody.

It sounded a bit delayed, like double tapping, he could hear the shaky hand. 

“What is going on ? There should be only Mr.Stark on this floor” He frowned “Friday ?”

Hearing no reply from the AI made his chest tighten, sweat started to form beads by beads on his forehead, no way Tony could be in danger right ? This is Stark Tower after all, it's highly secure to the point being paranoia. 

He fastened his steps. 

There in the room, he could see Tony sit in front of the piano and keep on practicing the same melody. The moonlight shines on his frame, smoothen the edges of his face. At this moment he doesn’t look like a playboy, no Iron Man, just Tony Stark, the same Tony he sees when having their lab time together. 

“Didn’t know you could play piano” Peter walked up to his side, all smiling. 

“Kid, there’s a lot you don’t know about me yet.” Tony laughed. 

Yet ? Does this mean I could learn more about you? Peter tried to calm down his messy heartbeats by faking a small laugh. 

“My mother used to teach me how to play, it’s boring without you so I decided to play some tunes tonight, you know, rusty skills” Tony sighed “My hand is too shaky to play” He lifted up the injured hand. 

“It doesn’t hurt but it’s a little bit tricky but I’m starting to get a hang of it so I’m fine”

“Glad you said so”

“Course kid, I plan on playing some rock n’ roll, I believe if my hand can survive those then I could play anything.”

Peter burst out laughing. 

This man, plan on playing rock n’ roll on a Steinway ? Bach would certainly come back and hit this man hard. 

“Don’t believe me ? Shoot me a tune, I’ll play it”

Peter snorted. 

“A tune huh…” Peter looked at Tony’s hand, the hand that wielded the gauntlet, saved his life, patted his back while saying “good job, kid”. 

“How about Thousand Years by Christina Perri?” Peter asked, eyes still locked on Tony’s hand. He is afraid if he looks up, his mask could have broken and slip his real emotions out.

“Feeling something deep tonight ?”

“You could say so”

Tony began to play. 

Peter stood beside the piano. 

The lyrics started to run in his head.

Colors and promises.

How to be brave ?

Gosh he wanted to ask that too. 

How can I love when I’m afraid to fall? 

Peter’s scared, he is petrified even. He came here to confess his love, afraid he wouldn’t have the opportunity when Tony, oh so bright Tony could love anyone else but him. 

But watching you stand alone 

All of my doubt 

Suddenly goes away somehow

Peter is not stupid, he has a Spider sense he knew the moment he went to space he could die. The danger rang loudly in his ears weren’t jokes yet seeing Iron Man, he felt he can do anything just having Mr.Stark by his side. 

One step closer

I have died every day waiting for you Darling, 

Don't be afraid I have loved you for a thousand years 

I'll love you for a thousand more 

He spent all his time loving Tony Stark as not only Iron Man but the scientist and the man behind. He really did. He had waited for the man for 7 years when the world moved on, he saw him everywhere he went. 

But will Tony love when he confessed this dirty thought of his? Will he leave ? Oh god, Peter hopes not, Tony is everything Peter had left. 

I will be brave 

I am not brave at all. Peter is not as brave as Spider Man, when wearing the mask he could secretly throw some cheesy quips here and there, crack some jokes and be close with Tony the way he wished as Peter. No, Peter is Spider Man but Spider Man is never Peter. 

I will not let anything 

Take away 

What's standing in front of me

He failed. 

He had failed Tony. 

He threw away Tony’s gift, his legacy. 

He paid the price, lost everyone but Tony (but oh he did lose him once, twice when Tony ask who is he when they met again)

And all along I believed I would find you 

Time has brought your heart to me 

It was indeed time that had nurtured his love for Tony. The more he stood beside Tony, the more greedy he became. That ugly part of him, the part he could never show. 

“What’s up with your face, kid ?” His finger stayed pressed on the last note, extending the fading melody “Feeling sad ?”

“Yeah, it was a good song. You played it well, Mr.Stark” Peter forced out a smile. 

“Of course, I’m Tony Stark after all” He shot a smug face to Peter. 

“Oh, and didn’t you tell me you were busy today ? Party and all that jazz”

“Yeah…I was, but the party was boring so I left early. And I have something I wanted to tell you so I came to the Tower” Peter looked down, wishing his curls could hide his face. 

Tony turned to him, he raised an eyebrow with a questioning look on his face. 

“What do you want to tell me ?”

I have loved you for a thousand years 

I'll love you for a thousand more 

The words stuck in his throat, he stood there, opened and closed his mouth like a stupid goldfish out of water. He could feel Tony’s gaze on him, the curiosity, patience, gentle eyes. 

“O-Oh… yeah, I forgot”

Peter will love Tony a thousand years more, til his grave and he’s sure of it. But there was so little time left before he sees Tony with someone else, not him, not Pepper, just someone. His place beside him will be stolen once more, he didn’t know this time how long it would be returned to him, maybe forever. 

He would rather keep this moment just a bit longer. 

“Is that so ?”

“Yes”

“Alright kid, pick a movie.”

[late-to-the-party-81]

When Peter parker's famous boyfriend tony stark returns from a two weeks mission or business trip, he decides to treat him. smut please. Buttom power! peter riding tony

What a boy wants

AN: Well here’s a smutty little ficlet for you. I’ve decided this is set in my 'A place on earth' universe, because why not? As always, aged up Peter Parker.

Not beta’d, so sorry for any rogue commas.

Master list | Series Master list

Summary: If you’d asked Tony yesterday which one of them was ‘in charge’ he would have said it was him, but at this moment he was starting to reconsider that assumption. Peter was fully at the wheel this time and Tony was definitely only along for the ride, something he was getting more comfortable with second by second.

Relationship: Peter Parker x Tony Stark.

Word Count: 1.3k

CW: Explicit Sexual Content, implied use of sex toys, anal sex, cock riding, power bottom!Peter, Nipple clamps, Cream Pie, Clothing disparity.

“Tony!”

Tony had barely stepped out of his suit before the slim, but muscular body of his boyfriend barrelled into him.

“I missed you,” Peter mumbled into his chest.

Tony wrapped his arms around Peter’s frame and rested his cheek on the top of Peter’s dark curls. “Missed you too, baby boy.”

Peter tilted his head and Tony raised his own so he could look down at his angel. “Not as much as I missed you,” came the emphatic reply. Peter’s eyes were deep pools of raw emotion and Tony was so hypnotised by them it took him a moment to realise two things. One, Peter was steering him backwards, a fact that he was only really aware of when the back of his legs hit the couch and he tumbled down onto it. Two, Peter was wearing his short silk robe and only that.

Tony landed on the couch with a soft oomph and immediately Peter was climbing up onto him, straddling his thighs and using his nimble fingers to work at Tony’s fly with a determination bordering on obsessive.

“Hey, baby. Slow down. What’s the rush?” He tried to sit up, but halted when Peter looked at him, one eyebrow raised. 

“Anthony Edward Stark. You’ve been gone for two whole weeks. Since we got together the longest I’ve gone without you filling me up is forty-eight hours.” Peter glanced down as he freed Tony’s cock and licked his lower lip. “I ache for you Mr. Stark.”

Tony’s eyes rolled back as Peter let out the honorific and he started to pump Tony’s cock which didn’t seem to have an issue with getting with the programme, despite the fact that a part of his brain thought Peter was a little shit for pulling out the big guns to get his way.

However, Tony would admit that the way that Peter was so unashamedly going after what he wanted was doing something to him. If you’d asked him yesterday which one of them was ‘in charge’ he would have said it was him, but at this moment he was starting to reconsider that assumption. Peter was fully at the wheel this time and Tony was definitely only along for the ride, something he was getting more comfortable with second by second.

Having brought Tony to full hardness at record speed, Peter let him go and threw off his robe. He was, as Tony had thought, naked underneath, except for a pair of gold and red clamps joined by a chain, which made his small nipples puff up as they squeezed them. Tony couldn’t help but skim his palms up Peter’s sides and then rub his thumbs over the two stiff peaks, watching his lover shudder with sensation, before he stared down at Peter’s straining and dripping cock.

“Petey,” he sighed, full of lust, love and amazement for his boy. Peter leant forward and pressed his lips to Tony’s and Tony lost himself in the sweetness of the kiss, not even registering that Peter had taken hold of his cock again until he felt it being enveloped by a warm wet heat. He jerked in surprise and opened his eyes as Peter groaned and fully seated himself, his eyes still closed.

“Holy shit, Peter. Are you okay?” Tony felt panic and then confusion rise within him. They hadn’t done any prep and there wasn’t any lube in this room, but Peter didn’t feel dry and overly tight - quite the opposite - and Peter wasn’t crying out in pain either. In fact he looked entirely blissed out.

Peter smiled and gently rocked atop Tony’s cock.. “So okay, Mr Stark. Friday told me when you set off for home, so I opened myself up and got myself ready. I’ve been slowly fucking myself with that dildo you bought me for the last thirty minutes. Made my little boy-pussy all wet and slippery, so I could take you in straight away. Almost came so many times, but I’ve been saving it. I needed to feel you inside me.”

Peter lifted himself up and started to fuck himself, and all Tony could do was look up in awe, desperately trying to burn each erotic movement onto his retinas. Peter was resplendent -so self-assured - as he just took his pleasure from Tony’s body. He let out little sighs and moans as he moved up and down and stirred his hips.

“Feels so good, Mr Stark. Love the way you fill me up.”

“Fuck, baby. Where did this dirty mouth come from?” Tony asked, still not fully believing that his sweet boy was being so commanding.

“Been dreaming about you ‘n’ decided I wanted to be selfish when you got back. Just want you to lie there and let me have this. You can take it can’t you, Mr Stark? Just let me ride you and ride you until I want to come?”

All Tony could let out was a garbled moan before he bit his lip, tightening his hands on Peter’s hips as he willed his orgasm to build slower. He wanted to make Peter happy. He always tried to let his boy finish first, but this time it felt even more important that he succeed. He thought that closing his eyes again might help, so he wouldn’t be able to see the erotic  juxtaposition of a naked Peter wantonly riding his own clothed body, but it just made everything worse. All his other sensations were suddenly amplified. Peter’s breathy sighs and the salacious, wet, slapping sound of him taking Tony over and over filled his ears. The exquisite push, pull and squeeze on his cock was the only thing he could feel. It was getting too much.

“Peter,” he whined. “Please. I’m so close.” 

“I’m almost there too, Mr Stark,” Peter replied between pants. “Pull on the chain.”

Tony fluttered his eyes open again, trying to focus on the delicate gold links swaying between Peter’s small but defined pecs. He reached out, snagging the chain between the thumb and first two fingers of his right hand, and gave it a cautious tug. Peter let out a deep moan and his body clenched down, making Tony choke back a cough.

“Again,” Peter commanded. “Harder. And when I come I want you to fuck up into me as hard as you can.”

Tony nodded dumbly and then pulled on the chain again, slowly drawing it back towards him and watching how Peter’s nipples lengthened, until his concentration was broken by Peter’s loud shout and the feeling of Peter’s channel starting to spasm as his orgasm took hold. With Peter’s cum splashing all over his shirt, Tony let go of the chain so he could grip Peter’s hips firmly, plant his feet, and start to thrust up. 

Tony started to come almost immediately. He felt the way his balls drew up and the way his cock swelled inside the tight clutch of Peter’s body. His own cry of pleasure mingled with Peter’s as he rode out a wave that felt never-ending, pouring himself inside of his lover. 

Peter collapsed over him, and Tony shifted his hands so he could stroke Peter’s hair with one hand and his back with the other.

“Damn, Petey,” he gasped out. “That was… Wow!”

Peter lifted his head and opened one eye, looking up at Tony. “You liked?”

Tony dropped a kiss onto Peter’s smooth, unwrinkled forehead. “I loved,” he confirmed.

“Does that mean I can be bossy more often,” Peter asked with a smile.

“Baby boy, you can be as bossy as you like, as often as you like, if that's what comes from it. But for now, I’m gonna lay down the law and say that we need to go and have a shower. I also need to burn this shirt - I don’t think it’s salvageable.”

Peter giggled, his voice bell-like. “It’s a good job you can afford to buy more, because I have a feeling a few others might get ruined.”

“Bring it on, baby. Bring it on.”

Tag list: @doasyoudesireandlive, @endlesstwanted, @marvelstarker-mha98, @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989

Join my tag list here

[starkerlove]

Ben parker stark is the new ceo of stark industry, morgan is the new ironspider and ruby is the dr. Strange successor for magic request

"I swear to God these kids will kill me one day" Tony rubbed over his face while he sat on the couch of his mansion with Peter by his side.

"You worry too much, My love. We were far worse when we had their age, and they have better equipment now" Peter caressed Tony's silver hair "They're fine"

"They're _late_" Tony crossed his arms for a moment and then checked on the security system, noticing their kids were arriving.

"Finally!" He stood up quickly when the three walked into the room.

"Dad, you're going to give yourself a heart attack" Benjamin rolled his eyes, without removing them from the phone he had in hand. He was wearing a dark suit and expensive Italian shoes "The company is fine by the way" he pointed out going to the dining table.

"Don't worry about the old man" Morgan said walking to their parents and hugging them "Dad, you have to stop panicking" she kissed Tony's cheek and showed them her new watch, a device that turned into her ironspidersuit in less than a second. "we're safe as safe can be"

Ruby was quieter, she was wearing a dark blue ensemble, with the Eye of Agamoto hidden underneath "Mom, how to keep up with him?" She teased Peter and hugged him.

"You three are going to kill me one day!" Tony protested

Peter smiled at them "I'm just glad I have all my kids for dinner at the same time! We have to take a picture!" He gathered the five of them for a group photo.

Tony looked grumpy, Peter was more than happy, Benjamin looked at his phone, while Morgan showed her tongue and Ruby made an awkward peace sign.

[starkeristheendgame]

okay so i just got my first ever massage today and holy crap it was so sensual. and i was wondering if you could write something where like tony’s had so many massages in his life that he knows where the best spots are and peter is stressed cus of college or whatever and tony gives him a massage and peter cums just from tony giving him a back massage.

Ooohhh, yes! I’m not one for massages personally because I kinda hate being touched by people I don’t know, especially like that, but I’ve given a few to friends and received a few from past lovers, so I hope this is to your liking! Thank you so so much for the prompt! I added a little dry humping in this, too, because cumming just from a spinal massage seemed a lil too unrealistic.

Super healing was all well and good, but Tony knew well enough that it didn’t mean the absence of pain. He’d been around Steve long enough to know that in some cases, it even amplified it. What was feeling your bones and muscles stretching for each other if not painful?

Watching Peter wince and reach for his lower back for the fourth time since they holed themselves up in the lab, Tony knew the answer. The kid had taken a pretty decent battering on the field - No broken bones, but plenty of taut, aching muscles.

“Hey, kid” Tony called, setting down the holo-pen he was using and motioning for Peter to join him. The boy moved happily but gingerly, overcareful of stretching too much as he bounded over to Tony’s side.

“Yes, Mr. Stark?”

“You doing okay? You’re creaking more than I do”. Tony had just began to come to terms with the fact that his age unfortunately hadn’t slowed down. He was verging on fifty, greying at the temples and finding it harder and harder after each battle. He was by no means unfit, but age was unkind to even superheroes.

“I’m fine, Mr. Stark. Just kinda twinges a little” Peter shrugged, and visibly regretted it. Tony cast the kid a pointed look, and he deflated slightly. “Okay. So...It kinda does suck. But only a little! Like, a day or two and I’ll be fine. Hot baths help, too”.

Tony gave a considering hum and reached up to rub at his jaw. “What about massages?” He asked, and Peter blinked at him.

“What, like...Some stranger rubbing you all over while you wear nothing but a towel?”

Tony huffed a laugh. “I don;t know what porn you’re watching, kid, but the majority of places ask you to wear your underwear or a bathing suit”. Peter went a pretty shade of dusky pink, eyes flitting anywhere but Tony’s face as he died a little inside.

“Uh. Well. No to either. Both! I mean...I’ve never had a massage. Its just a little weird, isn’t it? And expensive” Peter rambled, gesturing meekly. Tony supposed it was a little strange, but he was also not ill-advised of the merits of a skilled masseuse.

“Cm’ere” Tony coaxed, motioning Peter closer. The boy frowned a little, but was mostly curious as he stepped forwards, and Tony grasped him by a lithe shoulder, turning him until the kid was facing away from him, and Tony could see the smooth lines of his back through his shirt.

He reached up and set his hands on Peter’s shoulders, brows furrowing as he carefully felt about the honed muscles. God, but Peter was tense. Not coiled like a spring, but he definitely wasn’t lax as Tony pressed his thumbs gently into the meat of his shoulder. Peter jolted in surprise but visibly forced himself to relax as Tony began to knead at him, and after several moments, let out a soft sound.

“Huh. That’s...Not so bad” Peter admitted, when Tony was digging into the space between his shoulders, paddling out the tension across his spine there. Tony gave a light smile and a hum, to show that he was listening to him.

“You feel like someone just caught you jacking off, kid” he chuckled, and then paused. Perhaps...Not the greatest choice in words, and he hurried to wipe them from immediate existence. “I know you got pretty beat up out there, yesterday. How about I book you in with my guy, huh? You can see him whenever you feel too...Tense”.

“I don’t know, Mr. Stark. I mean, I don’t think I want some stranger feeling me up” Peter replied, but it was quiet, distracted as Tony let his hands dip a little lower, to the point where his spine began to broaden out into shoulderblades, pawing at the meat and bone.

“Have a think about it” Tony urged, thumbs pressing against the dip of Peter’s spinal cord, and the boy gave a muffled, sharp sound. Tony almost, almost paused, but he knew pleasure when he heard it, and continued wordlessly. And he was kind of glad he did, because when he took the selfish opportunity to run his hands down Peter’s spine, the kid truly did feel like he’d been tazed or something.

“Jesus, kid” Tony whuffed, petting gently at the locked up muscles. Peter ducked his head and then looked over his shoulder at Tony, almost shyly. Tony greeted him with a small smile and let his knuckles graze the delicate outline of the boy’s spine, not enough to really do enough except indulge himself.

“Alright, here. Sit on this chair, facing the back” Tony instructed, motioning to his abandoned stool. It had a sloped back, and Peter twisted, moving cautiously but clearly interested to see where this was going to do. He took a moment to psych himself up as he watched Peter splay those toned, lithe thighs around the chair, watched the shirt hug his back when he leaned forwards.

But Tony was nothing if not a pleaser, and he stepped forwards, waggling his fingers and then driving the heels of his palms against the small of his back. Peter made another of those soft little noises, and Tony offered a smirk, brows furrowing as he focused on mapping the lines of Peter’s body, each slope and curve and each battered muscle.

Somewhere along the five minute mark, Peter’s head was lolling and on every other press of Tony’s hands he was uttering pleasured, sighed little sounds. It sang through Tony’s veins, catering to every nurturing and giving atom in his body. Peter was growing laxer by the minute, and yet...

“Hey, kid. If you wanna get the most outta this - And this isn’t a come-on, but you ought to be laying down, and I’ve got a perfectly working bed one floor up” Tony remarked, trying his hardest to word it so it didn’t sound like he was being a leech.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter sounded sleepy, but his voice was a little higher, too, hitched like he was trying to contain himself.

“Not a come-on” Tony hurried to reiterate, hands stilling but not leaving Peter’s body. “Massages are done with you laying down, right? So you’re all relaxed and...Easier to mash up like a potato, I suppose. I can do a little magic like this, but if you want the full effect...”

He was aware of how it all sounded, and he was about to take it all back when Peter shifted, and then nodded.

“Okay. Yeah. Um. Are you sure? I mean, its your bed” Peter uttered, Tony stepping back just in time for him to swing a leg around, standing and then sitting again, so he was facing his mentor. Tony snorted lightly, and eyed him.

“You say that like I’m a wolf and its my den”.

“Well. No. But its kinda...Private, isn’t it? Like, its your space”. And. Well, Tony could understand that. He was, in fact, rather comfortable with having his bedroom as his personal space. Especially with the majority of the Avengers living at the Tower now.

It was his space, yes. Even the rare hook ups he’d managed over the years, he took them to one of the spare rooms. But he wasn’t about to tell Peter that, and he certainly wasn’t going to analyse why he was so comfortable with the idea of Peter not only seeing it, but laying in his bed.

“Its not like you’re gonna be rolling around naked in it, kid”.

And.

This is why he didn’t talk to people. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, but a shuffle brought his gaze up and he blinked when he found Peter standing, smiling at him almost meekly.

“Okay, Mr. Stark. It’ll be nice to be able to move around properly again”.

Tony opened his mouth, closed it, and turned on his heel. He’d offered; he couldn’t back out of it now. It felt hideously odd to lead the way to his room, his skin prickling and his mind like a box of angry wasps. He was hyper-aware of Peter’s footfalls behind him, light and steady.

The stairs. The penthouse main suite. Up the short steps and along the balcony. And...Right outside his bedroom door. The actual penthouse was nothing new to Peter - The two of them had spent enough time in here, as had the other Avengers, though it was by far not as heavily populated as the ‘main floor’ of the Tower, now dubbed a communal space.

And yet.

Tony pushed open his bedroom door before he could think too deeply about all of this, and swung an arm out with bravado. “Ta-Da! Here it is. My humble abode. Or...The very top part, at least”.

Tony’s bedroom was...Indulgent. His bed was a super king, and then just a little bigger. Black sheets that adorned a mix of silk of teddy fleece, and snowy-fox style fake fur throws. Ample pillows. The decor was minimalistic but a blend of regal and cool, sleek modern. Steel greys and deep blacks. One entire wall gave a one-way view of the cityscape and could be projected into anything he desired.

Besides him, Peter audibly breathed out.

“I know. Pretty lame, right?” Tony could do with more than 6 blankets. And he could definitely do something more creative with the decor. Besides him, Peter looked affronted.

“My bed came from a garage sale”.

“Ah” Tony considered, then gestured. “Go ahead”.

Like a puppy being told it could get on the couch, Peter went bounding towards it, flopping down near the centre with a delighted sound. Tony’s heart did something that defied gravity, and he let Peter squirm about for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Alright, alright. Roll over”. And he was really gonna have to stop with the puppy analogies before he couldn’t walk down the same street as a dog anymore. But Peter co,plied instantly, rolling onto his stomach with a whine of satisfaction, nosing into Tony’s sheets and...And he took the opportunity to adjust himself briefly, cursing the fact his cock had pricked up in mild interest.

“Alright. I’m gonna avoid any ‘deep tissue’ kinda territory, because you’ve never had a massage before”. And Tony knew from personal experience that ‘flying before you could walk’ was not always the best approach. Peter was looking at him again, blinking doefully and entirely too trusting, and Tony gave a light cough before he set a knee down next to Peter’s hip.

He decided on safe territory, and went back to the boys shoulderblades and upper spine, kneading intently and applying more pressure than he had before, know he knew the boy was safely and comfortably relaxed. Beneath him Peter was pliant and soft, eyes closed, arms crossed as a pillow and doing something utterly unforgivable to Tony’s heart.

He let his hands naturally gravitate towards the centre of Peter’s back, pressing at the easy slope of his spine. Beneath him, Peter’s hips hitched, and Tony fought back a smile. Involuntary movements could be hilarious. He pressed the heels of his palms down, thumbs sliding along the gentle ridges of the bone, and Peter heaved out a breath, hips pressing down into the plush bedding.

It was relatively quiet, Tony focusing on his work and Peter reaping the benefits of it with cute little noises. It wasn’t until Peter moaned that Tony realised his hips were inching quite...Rhythmically.

Doing his best not to alter his hand movements, Tony let his gaze zero in on the boy’s hips, watching as they rolled languidly and minutely against his bed. Something feral opened its eyes within him, licking its great, gaping maw. Tony sucked in a sharp breath and let his weight drop a little more, pressing Peter’s hips against the bed.

“O-Oh” Peter stuttered, and Tony couldn’t help a sly grin.

“Good?”

“Mm” Peter breathed, lips parted. Tony watched, rapt and hungry, gravitating to the space between Peter’s hips. He did his best not to make it obvious, the way he manipulated how Peter rutted against his mattress, but before long the boy was shaking and a steady stream of moans were dripping from his tongue.

Peter seemed to catch himself at one point, stiffening, cheeks flushing, but Tony shushed him cheerfully. “Hey, its okay. At least you’re not screaming in agony” he teased, and Peter giggled, relaxing again.

“I’m sorry. Its just...Its good? I mean, it hurts a little sometimes. But it feels really nice”.

He wanted, so badly in that moment, to make Peter feel even better. To drive his hips down against the bedding until he came. It was possessive and greedy, and he tried to fight it even as Peter’s sweet, high little moans filled his ears.

“Its okay” he repeated, quieter. “How does...Do you feel any better?” He asked, keeping his voice light. Below him, Peter nodded, paused, and squirmed.

“I do, yeah. Tonnes, but...I mean, I’m still a little stiff? In the middle. Maybe...Maybe the muscle is too tight? Or its not the right angle?”

Something twisted within him, warping and bending until it snapped, and he was parting his lips before he could even muster the self-control to murder the thought. “I could...Its not common. For obvious reasons. And feel no obligation to agree, but I could change the angle? Just means kinda...Sitting. On your legs. A little”.

And...Fuck. He wanted to claw the words back in, especially when Peter’s breathing hitched and he whimpered, but...Fuck. Was the kid nodding? The kid was nodding.

“Okay. Yeah. Just...For the...Benefits” Peter near whispered. Tony stared at the back of his head for a little while longer, tracing the spirals of his curls before he sucked in a breath. Right.

“Right” he affirmed, and after a moment, he brought his other leg up, so, so carefully over the other side of Peter. He aimed it close to his knee, so that when he truly shuffled across he wasn’t quite reverse-straddling the teenager. The angle actually was better, because he could pay closer attention to the alignment of his back and the muscle layout.

And now that he had better access, he began to knead at the boy in earnest, drawing soft little ‘uh’s on each press that went straight, unfortunately, to his dick.He couldn’t help the thought that this was quite possibly what the kid sounded like, stroking himself to orgasm in secret, late at night in his room.

“O-Oh. That’s...Yeah, Mr. Stark” the boy half-moaned, shaky and almost surprised, like he hadn’t ever expected it to feel this good.

Tony’s own hips nudged forwards, irregardless of his own permission, until he was all but three inches away from grinding against the teen like a...Well. Like a teen. Tony remembered all those youthful days of rutting against his partners like a dog in heat, the teasing friction that layers of clothing offered.

“Can you...Could you go lower? Like, the bottom of my spine? It feels...tight” Peter sounded hesitant, but more in the way that he typically was when asking anything of Tony. It was still fresh on Tony’s mind that it had taken the kid almost a month of being at the Tower to even ask for a drink.

“Yeah, kid. Okay” Tony agreed easily, surprised at how little his voice strained or wavered. He shuffled on his knees to adjust his balance and lowered the placement of his hands, watching Peter’s spine bow under his touch, hips sliding in an arc against his bed.

The short little hitches had Tony tipping forwards without even really registering it, and when a shuffle from Peter had Tony’s hips just barely grazing his ass, they both paused. Tony was about to open his mouth when Peter relaxed again, fingers flexing then twisting in the bedsheets, and he wordlessly continued.

The squirming increased. The moans grew bolder, less held back. Subtle nudges became flat out grinds into Tony’s luxurious sheets, and each torturous movement nudged them together in bare touches.

One particularly heavy press of Tony’s palms had Peter letting out an honest to god whine, hips pushing back against his hips instead of down against the bed, and Tony breathed out heavy, thumbs digging into his muscles. “Good?” He rasped, and Peter whimpered below him, fisting the sheets tightly and grinding back again.

“Peter...”

“I’m sorry. It just...Your hands. The bed” Peter heaved, burying his face into his arms to hide his shame. Tony found himself squeezing Peter’s hips, swallowing thickly as he looked down to see where they were connected, the jut of his hips flush against that plump, round ass he’d been doing his best not to look at for the past fifteen minutes.

“Its okay” he was speaking before he could even think about it, fingers flexing reassuringly in their perfect, fitting hold before he ran his hand down Peter’s spine, pet at his flank. “Happens to the best of us. Just...Don’t ruin my sheets”.

God. What was he saying? This is why Pepper didn’t let him do things. Or meet people anymore. Beneath him Peter’s little body hitched and he turned his head slightly, blinking back at Tony with wide, vulnerable eyes.

“Wha-?”

“Just relax” Tony cut him off, hands drifting to resume his work on that tight little knot at the base of his spine. It looked like Peter was going to protest, but then he lolled his head back into the duvet, nuzzling it with a low groan.

“M-Mr. Stark” the boy dragged out, trembling just ever so slightly under his hold as Tony drove his hips down against the bedding, and pulled them back up against his hips, where his own cock had begun to swell into a thick rise.

“You’re...Hard” Peter squeaked, and Tony ground his teeth, thumbing at a stiff slope of muscle.

“Yeah” he agreed quietly, and was surprised when Peter’s hips drove back against him. His breath stuttered in his lungs and he folded over slightly, gripping at Peter’s hips as a spark of pleasure jumped through his pelvis.

He fucked forwards against it without thinking, pressing down on Peter’s bowed spine, drawing a moan from both of them. “How close are you?” He ground out, rolling his hips languidly to ride the slope of Peter’s firm ass. Beneath him the boy whimpered and rolled his hips in response.

“Close”.

“That the skill of my hands, or the durability of my bedding?” Tony couldn’t help teasing, and Peter shuddered beneath him, head shaking slightly as he refused to answer. Tony couldn’t even feel affronted - He knew the pleasure of good bedding and sturdy mattress.

They began to move together in earnest, rutting with single-minded intent like Tony was eighteen and driven by his cock all over again (he might not be eighteen now, but the latter still largely applies). Tony braced himself, thighs tensed and body arched over Peter’s, riding his ass like it was all he was born to do even as he kept working on Peter’s spine, digging into the meat and bone until one of Peter’s arms bent backwards, searching.

Their fingers interlocked and Tony moved his arm forwards, bringing Peter’s hand back to a more comfortable position as the signs the boy was getting closer to completion became more apparent. Tony’s own pleasure was coiling through his body, taut like a spring about to release. He felt flushed, heady, cock hot and desperate.

“Mr. Stark!” It was pitched, a half-yelp, and then Peter’s body was jerking beneath him, arching and locking up, torn between fucking forwards and pressing back against Tony’s cock as the boy shuddered through his orgasm, coaxed through it by Tony’s hand on the centre of his back, pressing him down into the mattress.

Peter cums with the most breathtaking sound. A moan warped into a cry, shaking and rich with pleasure and emotion. Has the bite heightened everything? Peter’s senses are always so sharp, so raw. How did an orgasm feel, when even the sound of your own breathing could overwhelm you?

When the kid finally, finally slumps down beneath him, still pinned - allowing himself to be pinned - Tony can’t bring himself to chase his own, heat and guilt fighting an equal war in his gut.

“How do you feel?” He bit out, forcing himself to let up some of the weight. Peter had only consented to Tony making him feel good. And even then...Had it really been consent? He kind of felt like the guilt was winning out of the heat.

“I feel good” Peter breathed, head turned to blink at him lazily, sated. “Really good. I feel...Loose”.

The lecherous smirk is dazzling before he can stop it, palm sliding down the gentle slope of Peter’s spine the settle dead centre on that inviting, round ass, thumb pressing just a fraction into the dip of his cheeks, towards a wet, hot heat Tony knows awaits.

“Want to feel even looser?”

[muse-of-gods]

When Tony is gone, Peter can't just sit there and accept it. There has to be a way to bring his lover, his everything, back. And so he starts experimenting on his own, working day and night, only sleeping when he passes out in the lab from exhaustion.

And then finally, after weeks of failed experiments, Peter succeeds. Using the power of the tesseract he stole from SHIELD, he opens a portal to bring the Tony from the past into his current time. Or at least that's what he had planned.

Peter can't believe that it worked at first, not even when he throws himself into his lover's arms and kisses him desperately. And Tony seems to be just as happy, wrapping his arms around Peter possessively. When he pulls away, Peter notices that Tony's eyes are now a bright blue colour, but that must have been caused by the energy of the tesseract. Because the look of love in them is still the same.

What Peter doesn't know, however, is that the Tony he brought through the portal is a superior version from another timeline where he ruled the universe. He also doesn't know that this Tony lost his Peter, failing to protect him, even with all his power, and that he had gone nearly mad because of the loss and his inability to bring Peter back.

But now Tony has been given a second chance to show his worth as the superior iron man. This time, he will do anything to make Peter's world a safe place for his lover where nobody will ever dare to harm his little pet again. Tony will make sure of that, whatever it takes.

*~*~*~*~*~*

For @snowstark who requested a moodboard with superior iron man tony x peter. I added a lot more story to it than originally planned, but I hope you still like it 🤗💙

[petersxinternship]

Tony and peter brought their baby girl to aunt may so they could have their alone time! Request

"Tony, relax. She will be fine," Peter emphasised, watching Tony pace their bedroom.

"I know, but just... what if something happens? Maybe we should head back, tell May we want to reschedule-"

"No. Nope, no way. We are not becoming the type of parents who can't be away from the baby for a few hours. Maria will be fine," Peter repeated, voice a little firmer as he made his way over to his husband. He straightened Tony's tie slightly, before leaning up to kiss him.

Tony was still pouting slightly, and Peter's expression softened.

"I miss her too, but we deserve a break now and again. You know I love watching you in dad mode, but I've really missed you in a suit," Peter teased, fingers brushing against Tony's dress shirt.

His shoulders relaxed, and he dipped to kiss Peter, arms wrapping securely around his waist.

"I've missed you in something not covered with spit up," Tony teased right back, his hands moving under Peter's shirt and over his skin.

Peter let out a soft moan when Tony's tongue slipped into his mouth, and it wasn't long before Tony was undoing his shirt completely.

"We're gonna be late for the party," Peter pointed out, but he could quite hide his grin, head tilted to give Tony access to his neck.

"Hm, think we can be late?" Tony mused, not waiting for a response before he was lifting Peter up and tossing him onto the bed.

Peter laughed, giddy with the feeling of Tony touching him like this again. It was something they hardly had time for since the birth, and as much as he adored their daughter he really had missed these private little moments.

"As long as you're prepared to explain to Pepper why, then of course," Tony paused, pretending to deliberate before joining Peter on the bed, climbing over him and pressing a sweet kiss to his lips.

"Deal."

[spiderlinging]

We need more pre-relationship, accidental sexting/pics Starker fics out there. Just saying.

[snowstark]

↳ mcu incorrect quotes (1/?)

[shona22]

Requesting tony saving Peter from getting sexually harrased by Justin hammer or quentin Beck (that's up to you)

TW: attempted r*pe.

I also almost forgot about this! Have something I wrote quickly.

Peter doesn't back down. It's against his whole nature, his molecules and bones. It's what made Peter Parker don a red mask and jump out of his small window to fight criminals at the age of fourteen.

Peter never backed down.

Well, he wished he did.

Teeth scraping against the cement floor, eyes blurry from all the blows Doom had unleashed on him, a broken ankle and maybe a huge cavity (don't think about it)on one thigh, Peter whined in pain. The conscious part of him still struggled under an iron grip that pushed his face further into the floor. Peter tried to push right back against the force, tried that is, but the conscious part of him was flickering in and out of existence. Sooner or later he would go out like a broken bulb, falling prey to Doom's immaculately stupid plan.

Peter isn't Doom's target. That's for sure.

"He…" Peter spit out blood, and a few teeth, "..won't...come."

Doom had an impassive face. He moved his left hand towards Peter's calf, very close to the hollow of his thigh where blood hadn't stopped pooling. His touch was dark, sending shivers up Peter's spine--he felt nauseous. "And why is that, little spider?"

Peter didn't answer, couldn't even if he tried. It took a lot of energy just to keep his eye open, making sure he wasn’t begging for his life. Before Doom had caught him, Peter had disabled KAREN’s internal GPS system, and then, thanks to Doom and his battering, KAREN was forced to switch off to save the suit’s power.

At this rate, nobody would be able to find them.

And it’s exactly what Peter wanted, to keep Tony out of this.

“I find it strange that Stark hasn’t marked you, spiderling,” Doom’s voice has a dangerous drawl, “If it were me, I would have bent you over my lap the moment I laid my eyes on you.”

“D…” Peter whispered. He couldn’t get out what he had to say as fear crawled up his numb body. He didn’t think this through, “What…”

“Don’t be desperate, sweetheart.” Doom said. The hand on Peter’s calf had moved forward to grab his crotch, giving it a painful squeeze. “We are just getting started.”

Peter took in a shuddering breath, willing his heart to slow down. This was definitely not the time for a panic attack. Carefully he maneuvered his hips, giving the other man a false sense of ease as he cupped Peter beneath the spider suit. He took in another watery breath, and shot his uninjured leg towards Doom's face.

“Such a naughty boy,” Doom sounded furious as he dodged Peter’s weak attempt of kicking. “And here I thought we were gonna play, guess you need to earn it first?”

Peter’s heart quivered as thousands of invisible spiders seemingly crawled his skin, rubbing it raw with their tiny hands as Doom tore open the suit’s pants. It wasn’t supposed to tear off that easily but with the man’s advanced technology and his already powered off nanotech, Peter was practically naked.

“Don’t,” Peter finally gave in, begging.

But Doom wasn’t listening. His cold metallic arm was splayed against Peter’s naked ass, groping them obscenely. He hoped whatever deity that resided outside their Earth would somehow be kind enough to make Peter black out, anything, he just didn’t want to be conscious as his body was violated at this level.

He just wished–he just–

Doom was thrown off, hitting the wall on the other end of the concrete cell with a splat. Peter dared to look back, eyes still foggy from all the blood loss and pain but there was no way he would not recognize the soft metallic whirring, or or–

“Peter,” Tony’s voice is a broken mess, he sounds out of breath and in pain. “Peter,” He said again, this time with anger.

Peter focused on Tony’s eyes, the grounding brown had blown to black. Fire licked his handsome features, making the younger boy almost shiver. “H-hey…Mr.Stark…”

You shouldn’t have come. Peter wanted to say, but what he ended up voicing is: “I am sorry…”

“Peter, fuck, FUCK.” Tony yelled, almost. “Friday, check him over and–you.”

Peter turned to see where Tony was looking, the man’s voice flickered back to anger, then to disgust, and then finally, what Peter had never heard Tony sound like…

“You are not getting out alive,” bloodlust.

The iron man suit had charged upon Doom with a flurry. Peter can barely keep track of what’s going around, his auditory senses were, however, crisp and clear and there was no way he could mistake Doom’s howl of pain as Tony's armored arm connected with his face over and over. He could sense the other man’s bone cracking under Iron man’s intensity, Tony…Tony was furious in a way Peter could never imagine.

“Mr. Stark…” Peter croaked out, “Tony.”

Iron man’s armor whirred to a stop as he let go of Doom’s bloody pulp. Before Peter could call him out again, he was wrapped around strong metallic arms and a comforting smell of coffee and grease.

“Peter,” Tony seemed to have lost his vocabulary. “Fuck, what have I done?”

“ ‘s not your fault…” Peter coughed in Tony’s arms. “Thank you,”

“I am never letting you out of my sight, ever again,” Tony promotedly ignored Peter’s protest. He picked the boy up softly, nose burried into light brown curls that had turned grimy. “I am so sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry, I will never let you go. I am so sorry, I was so late–”

“Tony!” Peter exclaimed but soon felt bile rise from his throat. His body had started healing, and soon enough the small bruises would disappear. A week, and he would be able to patrol again. “Please, Tony. Take me home.”

Tony looked at him with something, like a mixture of reverence and guilt. “Of course,”

[late-to-the-party-81]

I have a request about Tony stark where he get nightmares about past Thanos and snapping to save the world then being dead. Peter decided to get him a service dog and they found a shy and scared pup that was originally abused by its owner. They adopt it and treat as like their baby

AN: Hey there. I really liked this idea and it gelled well with another request I received on a similar theme, so I have combined them together. Enjoy!

Puppy Love

Not beta'd. Mood board by me. Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Pairing: Tony Stark x Peter Parker (aged up) (set in my Place on Earth Universe)

Word Count: 2.2k

CW: Nightmares, mentions of Anxiety, PTSD, medication and therapy, brief mentions of Daddy kink and dumbification, smidge of Angst, lots of Fluff, Tony talking to doggies using 'the voice'.

Screams and shouts echoed loudly in the smoke-filled air. Bullets flew and unknown energy weapons fired. There were flames everywhere as he spat out a mouthful of dirt. He could vaguely hear a voice shouting in premature triumph, but muffled as though he were underwater

“I am inevitable.”

He swallowed and raised his head.

“And I am Iron Man.”

He snapped his fingers and screamed. Pain, the most horrific pain imaginable, shot up his right arm. He felt it arching across his chest, across his damaged heart. His eyes blurred and everything went dark…….

Tony sat bolt upright in bed, sweat beading his brow and soaking his t-shirt. His mouth moved up and down, gaping like a fish. A small, soft hand grasped his, squeezing gently, its twin rubbing up and down his back.

“Shhh, shhh. It’s okay, honey, it’s okay. You’re awake now, you’re safe…”

Tony turned his head into Peter’s chest, a sob falling from his lips and he allowed himself to cry and be comforted in the arms of the man he loved.

“I can’t keep going like this, baby.”

Tony sat at the breakfast bar in the penthouse, as Peter bustled around, making breakfast. The younger man pulled some toast from the grill and half threw it onto plates, blowing on his fingers.

“What do you mean, honey?”

“The nightmare’s Peter. I thought that they’d be going away by now. My therapist says that I’ve been doing really well. But every night, when I close my eyes….”

His hands tightened into fists and he could feel the bite of his nails on his palms. Peter looked up at him, immediately abandoning breakfast to run round to where Tony was sitting, and wrapped his arms around the man that he loved.

“We’ll get through it, okay? We’ll find a way. You’re a good man and I love you so much.”

“I know you do, bambino. And I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Tony tipped up Peter’s chin with his finger tip and pressed a chaste kiss to his soft lips. They cuddled for another few minutes before Peter detached himself, and returned to making breakfast.

He was more worried about Tony than he let on. The older man wasn’t sleeping well, and was getting more withdrawn by the day. Peter wracked his brain for ways to help, but psychology wasn’t his strong suit. In lieu of anything else, he decided that getting out for a walk would be a good idea. Exercise and fresh air never failed to help.

After they’d eaten, Peter urged Tony into some clothes suitable for walking. They’d only be going to Central Park due to being in Manhattan this week, as opposed to the cabin upstate, but anything was better than nothing.

The air outside had a chill to it, but the autumn sun still shone brightly. They walked along the paths, hand in hand, leaves crunching under their feet. There were kids on bicycles and skateboards, shouting for their parents to watch them as they wobbled and weaved. Dogs barked and chased balls, and it made Tony smile to see all the happiness of life around him, even if he couldn’t feel it fully himself.

“You ever think about one of those?”

“Huh?” Tony turned to look at Peter, puzzled. “One of what?”

Peter pointed towards the children.

“One of those, a kid.”

Tony’s smile was sly.

“You getting broody, baby boy?”

Peter shrugged his shoulders.

“I’d like to be a dad, one day. But not right now. I want to enjoy us. Enjoy being able to indulge myself with you whenever I want.”

Tony stopped walking and tugged Peter to him, wrapping his arms around his slim waist. Peter’s arms slid up to wrap around Tony’s neck, fingers playing with his slightly shaggy salt and pepper hair.

“That would be weird though, Pete, referring to you as ‘Daddy’...”

They chuckled to each other.

“Well, I don’t want our kid to refer to you as ‘Daddy’, that would be…disturbing. You’d be Papa.”

“Hhhmmm, Daddy Peter and Papa Tony. I like it. But you’re right; not yet.”

Suddenly, a shout rang out through the air.

“Look out!”

Tony turned and saw a ball coming towards his face at high speed. Peter’s hand shot out in front of him, catching the neon yellow projectile before it could hit Tony in the face. He had just breathed out a sigh of relief when he felt himself being knocked to the floor. The only thing in his vision was a large ball of fuzz.

“Hey, hey!” Tony laughed as a wet black nose nuzzled him and rough pink tongue licked over his cheek. He pushed himself to sit up and eased the eager canine a bit further back.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Peter and Tony looked up to see a woman jogging towards them. “My aim is off, and Wilson just got so excited.”

The shaggy dog barked upon hearing its name and tried to jump up at Peter who was still holding the moist tennis ball.

“Down, Wilson! Down. Sit!”

There was no mistaking the tone of his owner’s voice and Wilson immediately obeyed. Tony smiled at the dog and reached out to pet him, scratching him under chin.

“You’re a good boy aren’t you? The bestest boy, Yes, you are. Yes, you are! Has that silly Peter still got your ball? He does! Silly Peter. Silly Peter!” Wilson licked Tony’s face and he let out a full on belly laugh.

Peter stood next to the dog’s owner, staring down at his fiance, mouth hanging open. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Tony so happy and carefree. A crumb of a plan started to form in his mind.

For the next half hour Tony played with Wilson, throwing the ball, throwing sticks, heedless of the muddy paw prints all over his designer jeans. Peter watched him from a near-by bench, chatting to Wilson’s mom, Louise, the gears in his head turning.

It was a week later, and Peter had everything organised. He’d done his research and made the purchases he needed, all sent up to the cabin. He intended to take Tony up there later on, after their morning excursion.

The older man was looking even more drawn, his sleep disturbed more nights than not. Peter had had to literally twist his arm to make him go and speak to his physician about increasing his anxiety medication, and it would take a few days before it would make any difference.

Tony came out of the bedroom looking, at least to Peter’s eyes, extremely handsome in some dark blue jeans and a maroon sweater. He moved behind Peter, wrapping his arms around him and resting his bearded chin on Peter’s shoulder.

“What have you got planned, Peter? I know you have something going on in that giant brain of yours.”

Peter shivered as Tony pressed kisses to the soft skin behind his ear, the trademark facial hair tickling him.

“It’s a surprise, Tony. You’ll see when we get there, and speaking of that - it’s time to go. I’ll drive and you can relax.”

As they walked towards the elevator Tony scoffed, teasingly.

“How am I supposed to relax if you’re driving?”

“Quiet, old man,” Peter retorted. “Or I’ll put you in a home and spend all your money.”

Tony’s answering chuckle was like the sweetest music to Peter’s ears.

It was a fairly short drive to where Peter wanted to go, and when the car pulled up the confused look on Tony’s face was worth all the stress of organising.

“Err, Peter. Where are we?”

“Really? Now you’re eye-sight’s going?”

“Ha ha. Okay, smart-ass. Why are we here?”

Peter exited the car, an amused smile on his face.

“Darling, I love you very much, but if you can’t work out why we might be at an animal shelter, then there’s nothing left for it. Let me call Leafy Pines and…”

Tony rounded the car at speed, yanking Peter towards him and smashing their lips together. Peter grasped Tony’s jacket for balance and opened his mouth to the passionate onslaught. When Tony pulled back, Peter looked up at him, eyes hooded and mouth still slightly open. Tony’s smile was smug.

“Not too old to shut you up and turn you dumb though, am I? Come on, let’s go inside.”

There was a cacophony of noise inside the shelter, a mixture of barks, meows and various whines. Peter strode up to the reception desk and thrust out his hand.

“Hi there. We’ve got an appointment to look at the dogs.”

The receptionist looked up at them, her eyes widening in recognition before checking the schedule on her computer.

“Yes, Mister Parker, isn’t it. Are you looking to actually adopt today?”

“If we find a good fit, yes. My fiance here has some PTSD issues and I’m looking to get him a sweet natured and calm companion for when I’m not around.”

“Any idea on size or type?”

“Um medium-sized, I think, and we’re not fussed on breed type. We split our time between here and a cabin upstate. We’re unlikely to ever really leave it on its own apart from going to the odd restaurant meal. And we have the resources to get a sitter if we need.”

“Okay, I’m gonna take you through to the ‘Hello’ Room and then we’re gonna bring you through a few of our guests to meet you.”

Tony turned to Peter. “Are you sure about this, baby? A dog is a big commitment…”

“Are you telling me that you didn’t have the best day you’d had in ages after playing with Wilson for only half an hour last week? Imagine being up at the cabin, going for walks in the woods to clear your head, but with your dog for company. Someone to be with you when I’m working?”

“I’ve got FRIDAY to talk to.”

“Yes and that’s great for your intellect, but not your emotions. Cuddling with a pet is good for you. Releases oxytocin and all that. Come on. Let’s at least meet them and play for a bit, okay? For me?”

“Low blow, Parker. Low blow. Doing stuff for you is my one weakness and you’re exploiting that.”

Peter thrust his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels.

“Yup!”

Tony sighed, overdramatically and followed Peter and the receptionist down to the ‘Hello’ room. It was brightly coloured, with sofas, an array of soft dog toys and dog beds, jars of treats up on a high shelf, and a pair of glass doors that led to a fenced and grassed outside space. Peter and Tony got themselves settled on the sofa and the receptionist told them that one of the dog handlers would be along soon with the first dog.

As Peter thought, Tony was fairly enamoured with each dog that was brought into the room. He coo-ed at them, leaning down off the sofa to throw toys and scratch them. However, it was clear that none of them so far were ‘the one’.

Then she appeared.

A timid pile of white and brown fur, staying behind the handler, tail lowered. Tony cocked his head to the side and slid off the sofa and onto the floor, getting level with the canine.

“Who’s this?”

“This is Layla. She hasn’t been here long, but she’s a sweet girl. She’s a bit nervous around new people. Her previous owner abused her, so she has a few trust issues. A neighbour rescued her, but couldn’t keep her themselves. We have noticed though, that if she chooses to trust you, she is just the sweetest little thing.”

Tony grabbed the jar of treats that had made its way down onto the sofa, and took one out. He sat with his back against the sofa, in a relaxed pose and held the treat out in front of him.

“Hey there, girl. You’re a good girl aren’t you? Would you like a treat?”

The dog sniffed and took a tentative step forward.

“It’s okay, Layla. It’s okay. Wanna eat this treat and have a cuddle and a play.”

He waved the treat a bit and patted his thighs. Layla inched towards him, grabbed the treat and flopped down, just out of reach of his hands.

“Oh, you’re a clever one, aren’t you?”

Layla finished her treat and looked up at Tony, her tail thumping a few times.

“You want another one? Well you have to come to me, princess”

He waved a second treat at her, but held it closer to his body. The dog got up and looked at him. She let out a small whine.

“You can do it. You’re a brave girl, aren’t you?”

Her feet padded across the floor, and then she was up close to Tony, taking the treat from him, gently this time, before lying down, her head in his lap.

Tony could help but smile broadly and carefully scratched Layla on the back of her head. Her tail thumped again.

“Peter…”

“Do you want me to go and deal with the paperwork?”

“Yes, please. We have a Princess now. We do, yes we do. It’s you, isn’t it, baby girl? It is! You’re so beautiful!”

Peter walked out, his heart full of love, as Tony lay on the floor laughing, as Layla licked at his face.

Tag list: @ilikestarker @mrs-mischief-209 @marvelstarker-mha98

[rj019]

Heyyy!! I just want to say is that the ask is open and you guys can make requests for starker. (人*´∀｀)｡*ﾟ+

I can really use some distraction. I would love to write for you guys. ( ꈍᴗꈍ) You can request about anything. Don't worry about anything. I'm really an open minded person 😊🤭🤗

[starkerlove]

Idk you accept mpreg, but i want request where starker are married, tony being super overprotective of pregnant peter

I LOVE THIS!

Okay so, Peter is pregnant and he's getting nauseous almost every morning.

Tony is there for him, brushing his hair, giving him tea and medication. Making food for him.

Even though Tony can't cook, Peter appreciates the effort and eats everything.

When Peter get his feet swollen and his back hurting?

Tony is there to give him a long massage with essential oils and a hot bath so he can relax.

Tony is VERY protective of Peter, which means he will always be by his side whenever they go out. He always makes sure Peter is wearing the seatbelt in the car. Eating properly and taking his vitamins.

Tony always reminds him of his ultrasound appointments so they can check on the baby's health.

When they find out they're having twins, Tony almost faints.

When Peter goes in labor tony is there to hold his hand, to give him strength.

And oh, when the babies arrive in this world, tony is there to hold their little family in his arms, all pride and joy of his love, Peter.

[starkeristheendgame]

Peter tattooed Tony's name on his ass after a drunken night on his 18th birthday. And then Tony found out.

I had so many ideas for this and I fucking loved this prompt. Honestly Anon, thank you so much for the burst of inspiration! I absolutely love this concept and spent like two-hours just staring into space and internally fic-writing 😂

Its not exactly a ‘drunken night tattoo’ AU, but that’s because any respectable tattoo shop will not tattoo you if you’re drunk, or if you’ve consumed alcohol within the last 12 hours. So in respect of the professionals and in the interest of promoting safety, this is a slightly different base!

TW: Very light D/s Dynamic | Slight possessive behaviour | Under-negotiated (but consensual)

Peter couldn’t even blame being drunk. He wished he could; really. People did stupid things when drunk. It seemed to be an immediate write-off excuse for anything, instantly accepted as a valid reason for any stupid decisions.

Peter had been completely and utterly, stone-cold sober at every point in this process. He’d been sober when he’d scanned one of Tony’s signatures onto his phone. Sober when he’d booked the consultation with InkSpren Tattoo. Sober when he’d walked into the studio a week later in a pair of MJ’s velvet shorts.

He wasn’t entirely nervous. Pain didn’t really scare him as much as he supposed it used to. Especially not pain from a set of tiny, teeny needles. He’d gone with MJ for her first tattoo, and she’d taken it pretty well. Well enough that somewhere around the first hour, she’d begun to snore.

His tattoo artist was named Dave. That was comforting. Dave sounded like a nice name. Normal. Friendly. Guy-Next-Door-Dave.

Peter faltered in the doorway.

Dave was a 6″1 male with a beard and more tattoos than Peter thought possible to fit on one man. He was in the process of sapping on a pair of gloves, and eyed Peter critically when he noticed him lingering in the doorway, before motioning for Peter to join him.

“Lay down on your front. Arch your spine a little. You’re gonna have to pull those down under the cheek,” he instructed, reaching into a small tub to pull out some sanitary wipes. Peter tried not to feel embarrassed as he did as told, crawling up onto the bed and settling comfortably, before he squirmed, tugging down his shorts and his boxers both.

The wipe was cold and Peter huffed out a breath in surprise, nose scrunching as he forced himself to relax again. It was fine. It was a wipe. “I’m going to apply the stencil now. You wanted it dead-centre on the right cheek, yeah, mate?” Dave asked after a pause, and Peter nodded.

It would be more accurate to say that MJ wanted it there. Or at the least… That was the spot she’d chosen, when he’d lost the bet. Or… The pseudo bet. It was better to say that MJ had simply said she didn’t believe Peter would ever do something like this, and.

Here he was.

The stencil felt a little like rice paper. A little wet, and having some strange, scary dude palming his asscheek was definitely an experience, but Peter lay quietly through it, glancing nervously at his phone. 

God. He hoped Mr. Stark was too busy to call him today. Or worse, face-time him. Was Mr. Stark watching him through the camera? Had he hacked the microphone?

“Alright. Get up and have a look. We can wipe it off and re-place if its not right,” Dave instructed, and Peter moved gingerly, keeping hold of the waistband as he shuffled awkwardly over to the mirror and twisted.

There, emblazoned in dark purple on his asscheek, was Tony Stark. In a perfect replica of Tony’s elegant, eccentric scrawl. “He’s gonna kill me,” Peter breathed, staring at the stencil with growing horror. He caught Dave’s quizzical, raised eyebrow, and forced a grin. “Yeah, yeah. Its perfect. Right in the middle there. Great. Thanks.”

He lay back down, and after a brief warning, Dave begun.

“You lost a bet or something, kid? Or are you just…Really into the whole Iron Daddy thing?”

Peter wheezed.

Iron Daddy?!

“Lost a bet,” he managed to hiss out, burying his face into his arms. Oh, god. Thank whatever Deity was lurking up there that MJ wasn’t here to witness that. She’d immediately demand that the stencil was changed. Dave gave an affirmative sound from behind him.

“Why this guy? You a big fan or something? Or is it the opposite?”

“Uh… I guess a fan? I Intern. At SI,” Peter replied, wincing at a particularly harsh nip from the needles. It wasn’t so bad, all things considered. It stung, but it wasn’t the raging fire of pain that some people mentioned when they spoke about getting tattooed.

“Mmph. Must come with a nice paycheque. You gonna show him?”

“Absolutely not” Peter responded instantly, to Dave’s amused chuckle. Christ. Mr. Stark would fire him on the spot. He’d take back the suit. He’d get a restraining order. What mentor wanted their name on their eighteen year old mentee’s asscheek?

Then again.

Tony was egotistical enough that he’d probably love it, and think it was the most hilarious thing in the world, and Peter really wasn’t sure which one was worse. Not to mention that both involved him dropping his pants in front of his boss.

It was quiet for a little while after that, just the buzz of the needle and the odd puff of breath at the occasional sting from the gun.

“You know anything about knitting?” Dave asked after a pause, and Peter frowned, considering. He knew a little about sewing. He’d made his own suit, before Mr. Stark had showed up. Aunt May had taught him back when he’d thrown a tantrum over ripping his favourite shirt as an eight year old.

“Uh… Not really? I mean, I can sew a little. But I’ve never knit anything,” he remarked back, pondering it. Knitting was soft sweaters and thick scarves. It made him think of little old Russian ladies on their porches.

“My Ma wants to knit. Says she’s at that age. Told me to get her some wool and those special needles. I dunno the first thing about knitting.”

And that was how Peter learned that Dave’s Ma was what Peter imagined Ms. Romanoff would be when she was eighty, and that Dave’s main job was actually as a Doggy Daycare assistant at Paws ‘R Us.

“All done,” Dave announced, squirting a weird, green froth over Peter’s asscheek before wiping it lightly with a series of cloths. “Go take a look.” 

Peter obliging, sliding off the bench and twisting to see his butt in the mirror.

“Aw, man. This is gonna be on my mind literally every time I see him,” Peter complained, clapping a hand over his face. There, in what looked like thick Sharpie across his ass, was Tony’s signature. Forever. If he ever died, it would be with this stamped across his butt.

“He ain’t gonna know none, unless you drop your kick in front of him,” Dave shrugged, peeling off the gloves. Peter had to concede that he had a point. He had zero intentions of ever telling Mr. Stark what he’d done, and in the three years they’d known each other, Mr. Stark had never seen Peter in less than a shirt and bottoms.

MJ looked moderately impressed when she pulled the hem of his shorts down, peering at the taped-up tattoo with her phone flashlight. “I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” she shrugged, flopping back onto her bed and resuming the video she’d been watching on her phone.

Peter shuffled around to lay on his stomach on the bottom of the bed, slapping at her ankle. “Never tell a Peter Parker he can’t do something,” he announced, and MJ rolled her eyes.

“I never said you couldn’t do it. I said it was a stupid thing to do, and you argued it, and then decided it was your new personal challenge.”

Peter paused, then tipped his head. “Fair.”

Hiding it was both predictably and surprisingly easy. Peter spent the next few days sitting very gingerly and working himself up into a lather about meeting Mr. Stark on the weekend. Would Tony somehow know? What if MJ had emailed him to spill the secret?

What if Peter and his big mouth spilled it for him?

Except… It went fine. Tony picked him up in a sleek, red sportscar and they went straight to the Tower. Peter was taking a gap year in order to process what he wanted to do with his future. 

Spiderman suddenly changing locations would be suspicious, and sooner or later, someone would think to check on new students at local facilities. People moving for jobs, that sort of thing.

Mj was just… Refusing to comply with the Government agenda or something like that. Honestly, Peter was thankful. With Ned moving to San Francisco for college, things could get a little lonely.

Bar the odd self-conscious squirm, it went as any other meet-up went. They stuffed themselves silly with food in the penthouse and messed around with tech and prank-called Steve and by the end of the night, Peter had almost forgotten about his tattoo.

The twitchy, nervous fear that Tony would somehow turn around and demand to know why he had his name tattooed on his ass eventually faded, and life resumed as it had before he’d gotten the ink.

Which, of course, is exactly when things had to go wrong.

Really, Peter should have expected it. His luck ran in a pattern, and he should have walked on egg-shells the moment he realised things were relaxed and easy and his tattoo was still a secret.

It had been about a month since the tattoo. When he was alone, Peter couldn’t help but stare at it, running his finger over the shiny, black skin. Tony’s name, emblazoned like a brand across his ass. 

It became the focal point of more fantasies than his ass could keep up with, lazing floppy and exhausted and lube-covered on his bed, his mind reeling.

He imagined Tony tracing the letters with his tongue. Imagined Tony pinning him down and tattooing it himself. Imagined a different world where the branding was deliberate. A mark of ownership. Or a surprise. The look on Tony’s face when Peter would bend over, revealing his name.

And, as predicted, hiding it was no trouble at all. Peter had his own room in Tony’s penthouse, so if he needed to shower or sleep there, he had complete privacy. It helped that the Iron Spider and that Tony’s Mark II for the fabric Spiderman suit fit over his regular clothing now, so he didn’t even have to strip to do his thing.

The one thing he didn’t factor in, was a disastrous inventory day combined with the decision to wear white boxers. There’d been a raid on a medical facility kidnapping people to experiment on and most of the equipment and tech had been turned over to Tony for examination, classification and destruction. Peter was there to help, sleepy-eyed and not quite as focused as he ought to be.

He didn’t check the lid on the canister was tight before picking it up.

He didn’t see the drop of oil on the floor where Dum-E had been trundling around, moving things.

He slipped with a whelp, still clutching the container as he slid and twisted, bumping canister first into the edge of the table. He was vaguely aware of Tony shouting as his vision filled with pink dust that stung his eyes and seemed to cling to his clothes.

“Peter! Jesus H - Get in the med-shower, now! I turned away for five seconds kiddo, how did you -” Tony’s frantic muttering stops and starts as he grabbed onto Peter’s arm, dragging him across the workshop to the tiny little emergency shower stall in the corner. 

Peter could do nothing but stagger along, blinking frantically to clear his eyes of dust and pink.

It doesn’t even fully register he’s inside the stall until the first blast of water rained down on him, cold like ice before immediately coming something akin to tepid. He spluttered, trying to flatten himself back against the wall as his hair fell down into his eyes and the water streamed down his mouth, his hair, his back.

He gasped as the water trickled down his thighs, soaking through the cotton of his sweatpants and making them heavy. His shirt clung to his torso like plastic wrap and stuck-peeled uncomfortably with each heaving, shuddering breath.

“Yeah, sorry. This thing acts for burns too, so. Gotta keep it cool,” Tony murmured from outside the stall, head tilting sympathetically even as Peter scowled at him from under the battering stream. “Take your clothes off,” Tony instructed, turning to look over his shoulder.

“What?” Peter squeaked, eyes widening as he wrapped his arms around himself protectively. Tony glanced back at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“Relax, munchkin. My moves are smoother than that. It was a powder. Its likely it got inside your clothes, too,” he pointed out. Peter wanted to argue. Wanted to say if he just stood here long enough the risk was over, but.

“Turn around,” he huffed adamantly, scowling harder at Tony’s snort. But the genius complied, turning away and folding his arms as he observed the settling dust cloud. Peter counted to ten slowly, teeth chattering under the cold spray before he peeled off his shirt. 

The water on his skin was even more unbearable and he gave a whine of protest as he begun to work at the strings of his sweats, letting them fall with a disgusting, heavy slop.

“I was naked in front of you before,” Tony pointed out conversationally and Peter spat out water, shaking his head before pushing his hair from his eyes.

“That doesn’t count. The armour ripped your clothing off in beta deployment,” he pointed out, though he couldn’t help softening at the memory, snickering as he turned his back to Tony, scrubbing at his body. 

It had been hilarious. The actual deployment had gone fine, it was just when Tony had deactivated it that the armour had shrunk in on itself, taking his beaten old tank top and ratty workshop jeans with it.

“Both were an accident. Both involved one of us witnessing the other in a state of undress. Although my back has been dutifully turned since you commanded it, by the way. And both were equally hilarious in that my own armour undressed me, and you essentially became a - What is that?”

Peter jolted, having sunk into a daydream state of listening to Tony talk as he wiped himself down. He looked over his shoulder to find Tony staring straight at him, expression delighted and curious. Or, rather, straight at his ass.

Oh.

Oh no.

“Nothing!” he yelped, twisting to flatten his back against the wall. He’d left his boxers on for the sake of not trusting that Tony wouldn’t forget his vow of not looking, and had completely forgotten they were white. 

Which also meant that his dick was now flat out bared to his mentor. With a howl of frustration he twisted so he was side-on to Tony, curling up and glowering with all the muted rage he could muster.

“Its a logo. On my boxers,” he ground out.

“I think not,” Tony shot back gleefully, leaning on the protective railing with an absolutely manic glint to his eye. Peter almost groaned aloud, head falling back under the spray. It was too late. He was doomed. His heart begun to pound and the air he was sucking in felt like it wasn’t enough.

“You have a tattoo. On your ass. Right there,” Tony pointed out, as though Peter didn’t know it. Peter tried to glare but it came out feeble, weak. Fuck. He was screwed. So screwed! 

“What is it? Who’s name is it? Its clearly a name,” Tony continued, pestering for the information.

“Go away!” Peter barked lightly, shifting restlessly under the cool stream. Tony just shrugged easily at him and leaned through the gap, hitting the OFF button for the water. He seemed unfazed at Peter’s shuffling or his attempted aggression, smiling at him sweetly.

“You can tell me, or I can ask JARVIS. JARVIS is nice, he’ll tell me.”

And Peter’s blood runs cold, because there’s no doubt that JARVIS will. Peter never swore him to secrecy, and Mr. Stark’s name on his ass isn’t anything concerning to the AI.

“Its nothing! Oh my god, its just a tattoo!” he complained, making a shooing motion at his mentor as he side-stepped his sodden clothing. “Go get me a towel. And clean clothes. Please,” he huffed, fingers digging into his sides where he’d wrapped his arms around himself. Tony gave him a devilish grin, then gestured upwards.

“J?”

“It appears to be your name in your own handwriting, Sir,” JARVIS dutifully responded, his voice ringing like church bells through the room. The silence that followed was deafening and panic seeped like ice through Peter’s veins as Tony’s childish, gleeful look faded into complete, lax shock.

This is it. Everything he’s done, the last two years, the friendships and the Internship and Spiderman being Iron Man’s little tagalong… All gone. He’ll never eat day-old pizza with Clint again. He’ll never have Dum-E running over his foot again. The terror and panic bubbled up before he could stop it.

“Oh my god. Mr. Stark - You can’t - I’m so sorry. I swear, I wouldn’t have gotten it and especially not there but I just - I never thought you’d see it and -”

“Turn around,” Tony cut him off mildly, but his tone was firm. It was enough to snap Peter’s jaw shut as he stared, nails digging into his ribs as he blinked under the droplets that fell from his lashes. He sucked in a breath, staring in confusion.

“…What?” he breathed, pressing back against the shower wall as Tony advanced, unlocking the cubicle door to lean against the frame, eyeing him like a prime cut of steak.

“I said turn around,” Tony repeated patiently, raising one hand to make a little spinning gesture with his finger, as if Peter was a trick dog. Peter shook his head, horror quickly dawning as he realised not only what Tony was asking, but also the fact that if his boxers were that see-through…Facing the man directly was probably not the best idea.

He shuffled to the side as much as he could without baring either delicate matter. Tony’s lips quirked in amusement at this and he hummed softly as Peter shook his head. 

“Mr. Stark, its not - Its just your name, I swear. You sign it like every day, you don’t need to look,” he pleaded, shivering in the cool temperature of the workshop as the water begun to dry on his skin, running down in rivulets.

“I don’t sign it on your ass every day,” Tony pointed out, stepping closer. Peter wanted to stall, to argue that technically Tony hadn’t actually signed his ass, except his mentor was moving closer, reaching out slowly as though he might spook if he moved too fast. 

He was so close Peter could see the flakes of gold in his eyes, could smell the minty-motor-oil combination.

The first brush of Tony’s fingertips had his skin jumping like a colts, the touch so gentle it almost tickled. It was on the arch of his hips, skating the waistband of his sodden boxers before pressing just slightly to encourage him to turn. Tony’s gaze was tipped down, dark on his own.

“You can say no,” Tony reminded him softy, the hungry look in his eyes fading for a brief moment, replaced by something tender and careful. Peter sucked in a breath but didn’t resist as he was spun slowly on the spot, hands coming up to brace on the tiles. 

“How long?” Tony asked after a moment, thumbs pressing into the backs of his hips, breath hot across his shoulder.

“A month,” he managed to whisper, pressing his forehead to the wall as Tony’s thumbs slid along the waistband teasingly, catching and pulling but never dipping it more than an inch. 

Peter shuddered under the gentle touches, lips parting when Tony finally begun to slide the sodden material down his hips, over the large swell of his ass.

“You should have told me,” Tony rumbled, head ducking to mouth a lazy, open kiss to his bare shoulder, his stubble scratching just slightly. Peter shuddered as he felt the fabric slip to under his asscheeks, tight in the groove where it met his thigh but not overly uncomfortable. “Should have shown me sooner” Tony murmured into his skin.

And then the warmth of his breath was gone as he leaned back, and Peter could hear the gravelly, husked fuck that he uttered as he looked down, palm sliding around Peter’s flank so he could swipe his thumb across the dark sheen of the ink. 

Peter held his breath, tensing at the touch, though it didn’t hurt. Tony’s hand left his side to slide down between his shoulders soothingly.

“My name. On that perfect, juicy ass. Branded on there forever,” Tony was murmured, voice lethal and rasped as he stroked over it slowly, reverently. “Does that make you feel good, sweetheart? Knowing my claim is on you? In such an intimate place, too? Did you choose this?” Tony hummed, breath ghosting down Peter’s spine as he sank slowly to his knees.

Peter wasn’t about to let Tony know that actually, stamping it on his ass had been MJ’s idea. Especially not when Tony pressed a gentle, scratchy kiss over the tattoo. 

Especially not when he licked over the letters slowly, palms falling down to cup Peter’s asscheeks firmly. It was all he could do to whine, high and pathetic as he trembled under Tony’s hold.

Tony continued to mouth at the tattoo, lavishing it with nips and sloppy kisses as he kneaded at Peter’s asscheeks, almost distracting him enough to spread them with his thumbs, the kisses slowly travelling right until hot air right over there made Peter jolt, eyes snapping open.

“Mr. Star - Ahhhh-Ohhh,” his yelp faded into a gasp, which trickled into a breathless moan as Tony planted a firm kiss to the swirl of muscle between his thighs, sucking ever so slightly before promptly laving his tongue in a fat, wet stripe upwards.

“No idea what it does to me, kiddo. Seeing my name there. Marked on you forever. Marking you as mine,” Tony spoke against him, licking and kissing thoroughly between his words as Peter scrabbled at the tiles, desperately trying to keep himself from rocking back against Tony’s tongue.

One of Tony’s hands left his ass to stroke across his flank, delicate in its search before wrapping around his cock with a surprising firmness. Peter’s hips immediately jumping forwards into the grip and his moan was staggered as Tony paired it with a thrust of his tongue.

He mewled, embarrassingly high and and desperate as he threw one hand back, sliding his fingers gently into Tony’s hair. It was soft, far more silken than he had expected for something that stuck up in odd places when not professionally attacked by a stylist. 

Tony gave a soft sound of encouragement, nipping at him and sliding his hand up to stroke at the tip of his flushed cock.

“Mr. Stark, please,” he gasped, fingers twisting lightly in the soft, dark locks and hips stuttering minutely between Tony’s hot, wet tongue and his firm, slow grip. He wasn’t going to last; not with Tony Stark finally touching him. Not with the scrape of his stubble and the husk of his voice.

Tony chuckled against him, the vibrations making Peter shudder before he rose slowly, kissing a wet path from the small of Peter’s back to his shoulders, never stopping in stroking him slowly, firmly. 

“So eager, sweetheart. So precious,” Tony breathed against his skin, his hand leaving Peter’s hip to fumbled between them, knuckles brushing the round meat of his ass as he tugged his belt free of its buckle.

The slap of cold metal made Peter jolt, hips bucking in Tony’s grip and wrenching a whine from his throat as Tony squeezed him lightly, dipping his thumb into the tip and pushing at the bead of pre-cum that oozed there. 

“Steady, darling,” Tony huffed into his ear, the smirk audible in his voice. Peter opened his mouth to reply, but then there was the sudden feel of a thick, long cock resting in the line of his asscheeks, heavy and hot and he could do nothing but groan weakly.

“Hush, sweetheart. I’m not gonna take you apart yet. Not here. When I do that, you’ll be on my bed, spread out and sloppy for me,” Tony soothed, jerking him off in steady, tight strokes as he rocked his hips, dragging his cock between Peter’s asscheeks with a soft hiss of pleasure.

Tony flattened against his back, careless of the fact that Peter was still dripping water as he nuzzled into his neck, one hand roaming from Peter’s asscheek to his own cock and back, petting and stroking.

 Peter could feel the slow, hot build of an orgasm coiling in his gut, could feel his thighs shaking with the effort of keeping still as he let his head fall back onto Tony’s shoulder with a feeble  gasp.

Tony pressed open-mouthed kisses to his temple, training down to his neck where he nipped softly as he thrust against him, a seemingly never-ending, thick drag of heavy cock that Peter instantly wished was buried deep within him. 

Tony’s moans were deep, slow things, soft in his ear as he pushed his hips back, arching his spine to give Tony a better, tighter angle.

“Fuck, sweetheart. So good for me. That’s it,” Tony purred, one hand dropping to briefly pinch over his tattoo, speeding up his hand and his thrusts as they moved together. It was Tony’s cock catching on his rim that did it, pressing there briefly as though he was slide right in, paired with the ragged gasp the older man gave at the sensation.

Peter’s hips stuttered forwards and his high moan pitched into a yelp as Tony gave him a rough down-stroke, his cock jumping in his grip before painting the tiles in milky splashes. Peter shook in Tony’s hold, eyes squeezed shut and chest heaving as Tony worked him through it, continued to chase his own pleasure.

“My sweet boy. All branded as mine, coming on my cock and my touch. Look at you, baby. So good. So good, Peter. Fuck. Seeing my name, my writing on your ass… I’m gonna ruin you later,” Tony promised, voice ragged, hand falling from Peter’s cock to squeeze his ass, thumb sliding over the signature as he chased his own orgasm. Peter fell breathless against the cool tile, rocking back against the firm, heavy slide of Tony’s cock.

“Please, Tony. Fuck me. Mark me. Take me,” he rambled, breath hitching as Tony pulled back with a groan, nails digging into his ass. 

The older man looked down, managing to pull his hips back and angle his cock in just enough time to paint thick ropes of cum right over his tattoo, the thick, creamy liquid sliding over the ink wetly. Peter let out another mewl, his cock twitching feebly at the thought as Tony panted behind him.

There was a fumble, the rustle of fabric, and Peter opened his eyes, looking over his shoulder in time to see Tony snap a photo of it. His cheeks burned with arousal and humiliation, but Tony dived forwards, capturing his mouth in a firm, wet kiss. 

Peter was breathless by the time Tony pulled back, the corners of his mouth tingling with stubble burn.

“Marked as mine. Twice,” Tony murmured into his cheek, pressing another soft kiss there.

[webslingers-ass]

fluffy getting together starker request?

They’d been tinkering in the lab all afternoon and evening, until finally they decided to call it a night, and head back to the penthouse.

Tony had ordered them three pizzas, figuring that’d be enough to satisfy the superhuman he was hosting for the week’s appetite. They sat next to each other, both cross legged on the couch while eating, Tony trying not to visually wince at the pineapple that covered two of the three pies. The kid bit into it every time with the same faint smile, like he was thanking the pizza for gracing his tastebuds. Sometimes he let out a little moan as well and closed his eyes, the sight was one that was far too cute for Tony.

Attack of the Clones played in the background while Tony teased Peter about the very existence of the prequels. Peter defended the second episode, claiming it was basically a romance movie that humanises Anakin. Now that was definitely something Tony didn’t know what to think about, so he let it drop.

Though, he choked on his soda when Peter remarked on how Obi Wan’s glow up made him look even hotter this episode. Tony had to struggle to control his breathing when Peter lamented that it was almost definitely the facial hair.

Tony didn’t catch the way Peter’s cheeks tinged pink, or how he side-eyed him. Tony’s eyes were fixed on the screen. They often weren’t. Usually it was Peter who stared at the moving Jedis on the tv, and Tony who stared at Peter’s face.

The movie progressed, and yeah, Tony had to admit the kid was right. It was just a shitty romance movie in sci-fi packaging. But it didn’t matter. Because it brought a smile to Peter’s face, and Tony would do anything to keep it there. Or to keep putting in on, over and over again.

Thing is, since the beginning of the movie, their er, positions had changed a bit. Peter was slowly but surely gravitating towards Tony, and though Tony didn’t notice, he was gravitating towards the boy, too. First it was just the touch of an ankle to the inner arch of his foot. Then a knee resting on his shin. And when Peter adjusted and put his glass back down on the coffee table, well, he scooted a little bit closer, his elbow brushing Tony’s on the way to leaning back. The two were just about sitting flush together.

Tony could feel his heartbeat start to elevate in his chest.

On screen, the girl and the guy, uh. Tony tried to think. Anakin and Padmé? Were getting married in secret on the girl’s private little planet or whatever. Tingly music and heartfelt scenes.. it was all very romantic. He felt Peter gently rest his head on his shoulder. Fuck. He shouldn’t be having these feelings. Beautiful lithe body presses up against his... but Peter was still a kid. He was a kid. He was a kid. He chanted it, in his head, hoping that if he said it enough, his attraction would dissipate. His heart beat, faster and faster, and he was to preoccupied in his panic to remember that Peter could hear it. Peter turned his head, towards him, their eyes locking. Peter leaned forward, his face closer to Tony’s, and pressed his lips against Tony’s.

Tony was frozen in shock, as those soft little lips kissed his own. Peter started to pull away, but Tony reached out, catching his cheek with his hand. His other hand he brought down to the kid’s hip, and pulled him closer. Peter happily let Tony adjust him, let him pull him into his lap.

Tony stared up at the beautiful boy on his lap, appreciating every bit of the pink flush that dusted the kid’s face. He was so beautiful. This, him underneath Peter, being straddled by him, and kissing him, was everything he’d ever wanted. He tilted his head up as Peter returned to the kiss, maybe kissing a little too hard, not quite yet knowing the right pressure.

After several minutes of kissing, Tony felt Peter involuntarily rut against his lower stomach. The kid was hard and desperate. “Please,” And no whine or plea had ever sounded so delectable. But Tony couldn’t let this be just some one-nighter, or some ‘mistake’ come morning. No.

“Peter...” Tony let the back of his hand caress the side of that pretty jaw. “How about we take this slow?” Hurt flashed across Peter’s face and he knew he already fucked up. They weren’t even together yet, for fuck’s sake. “Wait— no.” Tony stuttered out fast, trying to get Peter to see. “I didn’t mean that, I meant. I meant, I want to do this right,” He reaches down and set his hand on top of the kid’s. “With you. Let me take you out first.”

Peter nodded, eyes adverted down. “When?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Peter giggled, his mood having taken a full one-eighty. “So you do want me...” And god, did Tony love that blush.

“Of course I do.” He leaned forward, gave Peter a quick pec on the lips before shuffling on the couch to stand, Peter following suit. “But right now we should go to sleep, so we’ll get up on time for tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah, our breakfast date.”

“Oh.” Peter’s grin had significantly grown. “Well goodnight, Mr. Stark.”

As Peter walked to his room Tony huffed, just a little semblance of laughter escaping. “It’ll have to be Tony now, but goodnight, kid.”

He knew Peter could hear him, even though he was out of sight, so it really wasn’t much of a surprise when the spider-boy shouted “Peter!” in response to Tony’s again calling him ‘kid’.

Tony smiled, walking to his bed content, for the first time in a while.

⎊ ♥ ᛤ

The next day they went to a little independent French breakfast bakery, Tony got a fancy coffee, Peter got a Nutella banana crepe, and then they both went back to the tower to pop Peter’s cherry.

Or read it on ao3 here