#Starker Ask

[spider-mancan]

Starker fuck or die

This is insane. The entire day has been one dumpster fire after another. Peter fell asleep on top of a building still in costume with his textbook spread open on his lap to the sound of a phone call. The resulting jolt of unfortunate awareness nearly sent his school books down onto the pavement — instead they just have a stain from the webbing and an extremely damaged spine. Peter answered the phone but was more interested in mourning his rental deposit than whatever threat was causing the Avengers to assemble. 

Then he heard the words Sex Demon come out of Captain America’s mouth and it was all downhill from there. Forlorn, Peter agreed to set his studying aside and come help out, because, really, when was he going to have another opportunity to sit in a room while Steve Rogers tried to talk about a Sex Demon in the debrief? 

It wasn’t nearly as fun as Peter expected. They’d called him in because he was difficult to hit and had the benefit of both long- and short-range fighting, but some of the others weren’t so lucky. By the time he arrived, Black Widow had already been removed by Hawkeye, leaving Second Hawkeye looking very purple (“nice new uniform, Kate!”) and incredibly perplexed. Steve was mostly alright, but whatever was causing problems was not reacting well to the serum.

Causing problems, of course, meant making people extremely Down to Fuck extremely quickly. 

“This is hilarious,” Peter says, swinging around the rafters. The warehouse they’re in has already been trashed, light leaking in through the roof and scaffolding collapsed in heaps on the concrete floor. “There is so much porn about this. At least two. Not that I know for sure.”

Tony comes over the comm. “I did hear Sex Pollen Sluts Go Nuts got excellent reviews.”

No one thinks this is funny at all, but Peter is too busy twisting out of harm’s way to feel bad about laughing. 

It’s not a Sex Demon, which Peter finds incredibly disappointing. It’s just a man who believes in the power of the aphrodisiac, or something, and developed yadda yadda whatever he’s trying to get blackmail of the world’s most influential people blah blah super awkward and gross and his sex blaster doesn’t even look cool at all. 

None of this is the particularly insane part.

The insane part happens about two seconds after Tony manages to topple Mr. Sex Demon over the railing and onto the ground, where the pressurized canisters on his back give way to the unforgiving asphalt and explode into a green haze so dense Peter can barely see the brilliant blue glow of the arc reactor in Tony’s chest.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter yells into the comm, without a response, and he’s swinging over to assess the damage when Captain barks orders for him to stay out of the way.

The Iron Man suit is already vacuuming up the fumes to remove the contaminant from the air, but Tony hadn’t been wearing one of his space safe suits which means there’s no internal oxygen supply, which means he’s also been contaminated. Regardless, the two men come into view and Tony just waves. “FRIDAY gives the all clear.” His voice sounds strained.

Peter drops down just behind. “Mr. Stark!”

“Spider-Man,” Steve calls, jogging over. “It’s best not to get to close—”

Peter is about to ask what Steve could possibly mean when he feels heavy hands grip his shoulders. The Iron Man gauntlets are heavy — in the armor Tony weighs nearly 400 pounds — and Peter winces. “Mr. Stark?” 

He isn’t afraid — Natasha hadn’t been dangerous. She’d stood stock still for a moment, called for assistance, and immediately removed herself. Over the phone, Captain America had run through the symptoms of the spores, but Peter can’t remember all of that now. He vaguely remembers a loss of inhibition, some kind of animalistic behavior, and an increase in body temperature to dangerous levels over time.

“Tony,” Steve says warningly. 

Iron Man’s faceplate lifts up and Tony is sweating, gritting his teeth. “I know, Cap.” His hands tighten, shaking, enough that Peter grabs one and flexes his fingers, debating whether to pry it off. “I’m trying.” Deep breath.

“Get away from the kid, Tony.” Steve pulls out his firearm and Peter is about to laugh, it’s insane, Tony would never hurt him. Touching Peter isn’t something Tony isn’t allowed to do. But when Peter goes to laugh Tony still looks so serious, so stony, almost sick. Deranged, even. Just a little.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter frowns and Tony’s eyes flutter closed, tight.

“Don’t call me that, right now, kid.”

Kate hops down from her perch in the rafters, awkwardly adjusting the quiver on her back. “I’m just gonna, uh, go.” She gestures over her shoulder to the door, which Tony blasted off the hinges not half an hour ago. “I’ll find a broom or something. Or just leave.”

Steve nods, mouth tight. His gaze doesn’t leave Tony where he’s hunched over Peter like a bad shadow, but his finger stays still on the trigger. Waiting. Not moving one way or the other.

Peter knows how these sorts of things go; if something can go wrong, it will. He runs through the data he can grapes through the confusion, tapping into Tony’s suit. Tony had been exposed to nearly twenty times the recommended dosage. Peter pulls his vitals through Karen and tries not to balk at Tony’s heart rate or internal temperature. Hot. Tony could fry an egg on his chest soon. “We need to get you out of the suit.” Peter reaches for one of the latches.

“Leave it,” Tony grunts. He’s bitten his lip so hard there’s blood in the corner of his mouth. “Better.” His hands haven’t moved, like he can’t move them, like he’s a statue. Peter is going anywhere without forcing himself free. “Better for you.”

“For me?” Peter demands. His hands are already on the gauntlet, but he freezes, struck silly by the sheer nerve. Tony is overloading and he thinks he should stay in the suit for Peter’s sake?

“I’m calling Fury.” Steve brings one hand up to his ear, gun still level. His eyes don’t leave Tony the entire time, even when he backs away slightly and starts to argue on the private channel.

Peter’s fingers tap a nervous rhythm on Tony’s armor. “Karen says you’re spiking really fast, sir,” he says at a whisper. This isn’t good for Tony’s heart, still weak, or his nervous system, which has been run ragged.

“I’m fine,” Tony chokes out through clenched teeth. His skin looks terribly gray, haggard, even. “I am really reliving some of my old glory days right now, but I’m fine.”

“Oh, yeah. Drugs.” Peter laughs nervously. Tony’s eyes are blown, the warm brown consumed by darkness, and his gaze is heavy on Peter. The gauntlet moves now, pulling up the hem of Peter’s mask until Peter feels metal against his pulse point. “Mr. Stark?”

Tony groans.

Peter is a good kid, but he’s not a saint. He’s seen the Tony Stark sex tapes, even the ones that Tony didn’t know were being recorded. He’d been through his own moral beratement when he opened it the first time, but he’d done it several times since because they’re something about Tony that Peter can’t get enough of. And Peter has heard that groan a million times. It’s not like his enemy just punched me into a wall groan, or his this meeting could have been an email groan. It’s the groan he makes when he opens someone up with his cock for the first time. The eyes rolling back, hips stuttering kind of groan.

Peter is suddenly very hard in his jock strap. Terrible. Terrible news.

Karen is a welcome distraction in the form of more terrible news. “Mr. Stark!” The vitals displaying on Peter’s HUD are approaching dangerous levels, especially for an older, unenhanced human. “Your heart rate. It’s crazy!” 

Tony is sweating, mouth open in the face of the rising temperatures, and Peter starts to frantically start prying at the mechanisms that hold the armor together. Tony makes no move to assist. “Leave it.”

“You’re in a metal can and you’re already over 100F,” Peter tells him, as if Tony didn’t know. “You’re going to—”

He doesn’t hear Steve barking at him to stop. It doesn't strike him that it’s a bad idea until it’s too late.

Peter manages to get his nails under the ridge of the chest plate and release it, pulling back, and then suddenly he’s falling. Tony has miraculously changed his mind about the suit and decided to abandon it entirely, stepping out and using the momentum of Peter’s scrambling until they both fall prone on the ground. There’s a poof of dust as they clatter onto the warehouse floor, tangled together.

Steve looks over at them sharply and is yelling orders Peter can’t quite hear because he is too busy trying to place the way Tony is smothering him with his body. Even through Peter’s suit he feels the heat radiating off of Tony’s skin, so sweaty he’s almost slick. He smells like hard work and expensive cologne. Peter is bewildered, and he puts his hands on Tony’s chest to push him away only to freeze when he feels Tony pull up mask and lick a thick line from his collar to his ear. 

“Mr. Stark, I don’t—” Tony gets a hand between them, pushing the release on Peter’s suit until it’s loose around his body and Peter turns his head to look at Steve. “Captain, I didn’t think it was supposed to be, ah, oh.” He shudders when Tony sucks Peter’s ear into his mouth. “Mr. Stark, please. We need to get you to medical.”

“No time,” Tony mumbles against Peter’s throat. He’s cupping Peter’s groin through the suit while the other hand pulls the mask off completely. “Want you bad. God, I can’t even think. Look at you.”

“Tony.” Steve takes the safety off, conversation over the communicator set aside, and gets closer. He doesn’t want to shoot. That much is obvious — if he was going to, he would have already done it. “I said get off the kid.”

“He’s mine, Capsicle,” Tony growls. He winds his hands around Peter’s back until their chest to chest, and Peter feel the rabbiting heartbeat until it’s hard to separate whose is whose. “Get your own!” There’s the tell-tale fire up of the propulser on Tony’s palm, and then there’s a stare down between Iron Man and Captain America with a shivering Spider-Man sandwiched between.

Steve looks away first.

Peter feels a bit wild, wide-eyed, confused. Flushed and hot and not attractive at all, but Tony is near-tearing the suit off of his body and Peter is so shocked he’s barely fighting it. Cold air hits his sweaty skin where Tony is pulling it down at the neck and it feels like an electric shock. “Mr. Stark, seriously. You need to—oh.” There’s a rough hand on his cock. “Oh, my god.”

Tony has both hands on Peter again, like he’s going to reach into Peter’s chest and start pulling him apart, but the Iron Man suit is in sentry mode now; Peter hears the thunk of the boots on the ground even as he’s writhing, trying to focus past the sound of his own insane breathing. He blinks and then there is red and gold staring down the barrel of Steve’s gun.

“Need you, kid,” Tony growls in his ear, pulling down the length of him through his underwear. This was not on Peter’s bingo card for the day. “Feel like I’ll die without you.”

Maybe you will, Peter thinks hysterically.

Steve could stop this, but the gun is slowly falling lower until it’s pointed at the concrete. “Peter,” he starts, “if you give me the word, I’ll remove him and take him to quarantine until we find a willing partner.”

“Partner?” The puzzle pieces are falling into place but there has to be another picture because the one in Peter’s head isn’t making any sense. “I thought this just made you horny!”

“It sure does,” Tony mutters. He doesn’t spare Peter’s underthings nearly the same respect as the suit, but he tears Peter’s t-shirt off at the neck and spreads it open like a child opening a Christmas present. Hands splay flat over sweaty skin, feeling Peter’s rapid breathing. “I’m going to ruin you, kid.” Like he can’t hear a single thing.

“I’m not—oh, god.” Tony is heavy on top of him and his cock is hard in his sweats, thick where it’s digging into Peter’s hip. Tony readjusts and grinds them together, hard enough that Peter scrambles for purchase against Tony’s back. “Cap, I don’t know what to do. What do I do?”

Tony rakes his nails down Peter’s bare chest, catching on Peter’s nipples with a satisfied smirk.

“What do you want to do?” Steve asks slowly.

Tony has such a high fever and his heart rate is dangerous and he looks at Peter and says, “you want to be a good boy for me, don’t you?” and Peter is so fucked. He’s both literally and figuratively fucked.

Like a flash of lightning, Peter remembers the call earlier: if Tony doesn’t come inside someone, he’ll overheat until he’s either cooked inside or dies from a heart attack. It had sounded kind of funny at the time, only half-paying attention.

Despite having a god among men standing not twenty feet away — oh, god, Captain America can totally see Peter’s boner right now — Tony doesn’t look away from Peter for a single moment if he can help it. Years of the revolving door love interests have made Tony extremely good with his hands. He’s often joked about it, about how good he is in bed, but Peter never actually thought he’d feel the way Tony smoothes hands over skin or bites bruises cherry red and it’s just a whole lot more than Peter expected to happen.

“I—I…oh, god.” Tony licks a line from Peter’s navel up to his chest and latches on to one of Peter’s nipples with his teeth. “I’m, I’m willing. I just—”

“Are you sure?” Steve says firmly, like Peter might be able to think straight with Tony all over him like every unfortunate wet dream he’s had since the seventh grade.

“If you don’t leave right now,” Tony says with a growl, “you’re going to get quite the show, Cap.” His eyes look clouded over, and he sits back heavy on Peter’s cock and just looks at the mess he’s made. Peter’s suit is hanging haphazardly around his hips and his shirt is ruined and his skin is bright pink. The cold wind through the holes in the walls brushes past, too cool on the spit-slick on Peter’s chest and he shudders.

“I’m okay,” Peter chants, and he lets himself reach out and touch for the first time. It’s tentative, fingertips across the scarring on Tony’s chest. “Like, what the fuck, but also I’ll be okay.”

If anyone understands that, it’s Steve, who is flushed almost as red as Peter and pivots. “I’ll guard the perimeter.”

With a grin, Tony rolls his hips so fluidly Peter whines high in his throat. “Kind of wanted to put on a show.” His cock is so hard, rutting into the dips of Peter’s stomach. “Bet he’ll watch. He just doesn’t want to admit how good you look. My perfect boy.” He grabs both sides of Peter’s head, fingers tangling in his hair so hard Peter can’t look anywhere but straight ahead.

Peter presses his hands flat. “Mr. Stark, I…” He closes his eyes tight. “What do I do? This is crazy.” Not last week Tony had been helping Peter with relationship advice, how to get a girl’s attention, clapped him on the shoulder and called him champ like he was going to take Peter to the baseball game later. “You’re…” 

The first time Tony kisses him, Peter’s brain doesn’t care about the drugged nature of it. It’s everything he wants, everything he thought it would be in his wildest dreams. It’s possessive, almost bruising, like Tony is boiling over and he’s going to fill Peter up with it. Teeth nips at Peter’s bottom lip until he makes the smallest sound, a little desperate. What? That’s Mr. Stark’s tongue in his mouth.

Tony’s hands slip down under the waistband of Peter’s until he touches hair and Peter writhes, knees clanking together, trying to hide himself even though Tony groans again like he’s found nirvana. His nails rake up the sensitive skin near Peter’s groin. “So soft and beautiful.” Tony bites into the meat of Peter’s shoulder, hips still rutting in a sinful rhythm. “Knew you would be.”

“Are you sure about—ah, about this, Mr, Stark?” Peter tries. His tongue is so thick in his mouth. He can hardly process anything. Beyond Tony is the dingy gray walls of the warehouse, the open space, anyone could walk in and they’d see Tony pinning Peter down with his body. Tony has never looked at him this way; not that Peter hasn’t tried. “You’re…you’re going to hate me later.” He covers his face with his hands, feels the heat on his cheeks.

When he turned seventeen he’d pushed his luck. He touched more, took more. Kissed Tony on the cheek goodbye until he was daring enough to slip, catch just the corner of Tony’s mouth. Peter remembers it, it’s was Monday, rainy, because he’ll never forget the way Tony had looked at him after. Terrified. Disgusted, even. Of Peter. Of Peter kissing him.

Right now, Tony needs more than a sidestep kiss and pat on the shoulder. He needs a hole, something to fuck into, something to take apart piece by piece, and he’s already let Peter know he wasn’t interested in that with him. Peter’s brain is spinning, the reality of the situation started to seep in through the cracks of his shock, and he wonders if he’s being an opportunist by taking Tony’s wandering hands in stride. 

“Oh, darling.” Tony leans in and presses a wet kiss to Peter’s shoulder. “I could never hate you.”

The sound of the zipper fills up the whole room. The space is public, with the open floor and windows and sun streaming down, but it’s quiet, save the police sirens outside. Tens of people, probably, just a flimsy wall away while Tony Stark gets his cock out with a groan. 

It’s thick, uncut, slightly to the left, and nestled in a thick and well-groomed swath of dark hair. Peter knew all that from the videos, the tapes he keeps on his phone for the lonely nights, but that’s just an old image of Tony. Right now, Tony is on his knees above Peter and he grins, circling his cock with his fingers so Peter can watch it twitch. He’s still a bit gray, he looks sick, and his hair is slick against his neck. Peter has always liked that, when it curls there, but Peter can’t look away from the curls around Tony’s cock right now because he’s just a man and his mouth is watering.

“You’re going to be the best thing I’ve ever felt,” Tony says through that wicked grin, eyes dazed — mind far away, probably, since the fight has left him. He leans over, lets his cock drag over Peter’s stomach. Peter feels pre-come in a smooth line and it makes him whimper. “I’ve fucked royalty, the most powerful people in the world, the most beautiful, but I know you’re going to feel the best.”

He kisses Peter then, when Peter opens his mouth and moans at the idea. He brings one thick hand up to Peter’s neck and just holds him, all threat but no pressure, and opens up Peter’s kisses with the flat of his tongue until Peter is weak and loose on the floor. Those fingers pull his mouth down, slip in and feel his tongue slide under the fingertips, and Tony doesn’t have to tell Peter to suck because this has happened in Peter’s head at least twenty five times.

Tony tastes like metal and lotion and salt. He presses on Peter’s tongue until Peter drools around his fingers, grinding his cock into Peter’s hip and rolling his thigh up between Peter’s legs. “Knew you’d melt for me, sugar in the rain, just like that.” 

Peter thinks his eyes might roll back in his head. Is he the one that got caught in the sex pollen nightmare? He feels giddy, almost drunk, and he lets more drool come out of his mouth and slick up Tony’s fingers. He knows where they’re going.

Tony is less single-minded than Peter would have thought, because he’s slow to pull his fingers away and he’s slow to lift up Peter’s leg and he spends an awed moment just looking, which borders on being too much. Peter can feel his ass clench when Tony runs a thumb over the pucker, and his legs tighten around Tony’s hips.

“Just, uh…” Peter wipes his mouth and hides his face in his elbow. “You can start, just…whatever you need.”

Tony presses in gently with the pad of his thumb at the same time he tugs Peter’s arm away from his face, just in time to see Peter’s expression slip into something feral. “Need to see you.” Tony bites into the meat of Peter’s shoulder and laves at it with his tongue. His goatee scrapes across Peter’s skin so good, and Peter curls up until his arms are curling over Tony’s head, hovering, unsure whether to bring him closer or pull him away. “My good boy.”

“Mr. Stark.” Peter presses Tony into his shoulders, another bite, and Tony slips a spit-slick finger inside quick and easy. “Oh, god, I didn’t think—I never thought—”

That’s a lie. Peter thought about it a lot, the way Tony might work him open. Tony’s fingers curl smoothly against Peter’s walls, one to two and then three, a little dry but Peter doesn’t mind when it hurts a little because sometimes soft and sweet feels dull. Sometimes he wants someone to rip him open and make him cry and if Tony is going to do it right now, under threat of death—

“Think about you all the time,” Tony croons heavily against Peter’s skin. He pulls away, purposeful, and Peter blinks. He wonders hysterically if the fog melted away, no more sex magic or whatever it is that’s making Tony want to destroy him, but Tony just draws closer until he can slap his cock around Peter’s swollen mouth. “Get me wet. I’ll make you stop thinking for good.”

Peter groans, an open invitation. This is insane. He shouldn’t enjoy this because Mr. Stark is drugged into wanting him and it’s a huge breach of trust and privacy but Peter scrambled up onto his elbows so Tony can feed him his dick, thick and perfect. He grabs Tony’s hip so hard he thinks there might be bruises but Tony fucks a little harder into his mouth, smooth.

There isn’t a lot of time for sex in his line of work, he’s busy, he’s pining over a man who doesn’t want him, not for real, but Peter isn’t too good to get on his knees in the back of a club and swallow someone down. He knows what he’s doing, throat opening up until the head of Tony’s cock hits the back of his throat. He hums. He loves this. He loves sucking people off, makes his head floaty and easy, and he’s got his eyes closed just to revel in it. He lets drool pool in his mouth again, knows it’s going to make his life easier. 

Tony’s thumb wipes a tear off Peter’s cheek, and it’s only then that Peter opens his eyes and finds his lashes damp, stuck together, watery. “There’s my boy.” It’s so fond. “Don’t cry. You’re doing so well.”

Peter’s hips fuck up into the air and he pulls off, suckling at the head before letting it rest gently on his bottom lip. “I’m good. I’m good, Mr. Stark.” He feels Tony twitch against his mouth. It’s incredible. 

It’s nothing compared to Tony rolling him over on his side, the obscene way Tony hikes up one of Peter’s legs and spits in Peter’s hole and feeds Peter the head of his cock so fast it burns a little, the way Peter kind of likes but won’t admit. It hurts and then his body knows it like this and everything evens out and Tony growls when he thrusts fully into Peter. His skin slaps hard against Peter’s hips, rocking Peter with a surprised cry further across the dusty ground. Tony just smoothes his hand over Peter’s hip, under the knee, and rocks into him. He bites feral at Peter’s neck and shoulders like he’s here to take and claim, like he’s going to want to see the shape of himself on Peter later.

“Oh, Mr. Stark, I’m, ah, oh, please.” Tony brushes up against his prostate and Peter jolts forward, bracing himself with his free hand on the ground to stop from being fucked flat into the floor. “Oh, please. It’s good. It’s good, it’s good.”

Peter isn’t sure Tony can hear anything anymore, but he takes his hand off Peter’s knee and wraps it around Peter’s throat, pulling him back so their bodies are flush and rocking hard and tight into Peter’s body. It’s hard to remember this is just drugs, this is just another day on the job getting fucked by the unrequited love of his life, when Tony watching the way Peter’s eyes roll back so closely. When Tony kisses Peter he tastes like blood but feels like gold, wrapping Peter up tighter. Peter couldn’t leave if he wanted to. He doesn’t want to. He’ll never want to.

“You take me so good, kid,” Tony says against Peter’s jaw, kisses wetly at the skin there. “Thought about this, about opening you up in the lab.”

“Ngh.” Peter is beyond speech, just like Tony promised, but his hand flies back to dig nails into Tony’s hip. His cock aches, dribbling precome onto the dirty floor and the tangle of his ruined clothes. 

“It’s bend you over and slip inside and you’d just—fucking—let me.” He thrusts hard into Peter’s hole, punctuation, and the sound Peter makes is ungodly. “Thought about it when you glued yourself to the wall, just ripping your clothes off—mmm.” A slow roll Peter can feel in his toes. “Find you already open and dripping because I know you fuck yourself sometimes before you come in. FRIDAY can tell.”

Tony isn’t squeezing his throat but Peter can’t breathe.

There are a million and one first hand accounts of Tony Stark’s stroke, but Peter doesn’t think any of them compare to the real thing. On the ground, in the warehouse, while Captain America tries to stop New York’s Finest from throwing open the door and seeing Peter pinned here in the dirt, spread open—

“That’s it,” Tony whispers, gravel. He scratches down Peter’s chest and wraps his hand around Peter’s cock. “You’re so good. Go on. Make a mess. Daddy will clean it up for you.”

It’s deep in Peter’s stomach, rolls up until it burns in his chest and chokes him. His hips cant back, trying to take more of Tony, more more more of something that isn’t here, out here in the open. Everyone knows they’re doing this right now. Fuck. Tony’s suit is still there; FRIDAY is recording all of this, the way Peter shudders and writhes and comes and comes and comes all over Tony’s fist. 

He falls flat on his stomach, Tony’s hand still pumping lightly until Peter is pushing back against Tony’s thrusts just trying to get away from the sensitivity. 

“That’s it, that’s it.” Kisses all over his neck, his throat, his cheeks. “Let me take care of you. Almost there, so good. So perfect.”

There’s no condom. That’s the last thought Peter has, as Tony comes thick and hot in Peter’s ass and grunts, bites one more time. No condom. Very messy. It’s fine, probably, since Tony said he’d clean it up. 

The adrenalin drop hits, empty, and Peter fades away into something deeper than sleep with his cheek pressed into the cold ground and Tony pulling out of his body, wet and sloppy.

[winterspiderpurrs]

can you write abo (omega peter, alpha tony) where tony can’t help himself around peter, like public claiming or a rut?

"Are you hurt?"

Peter blinks and looks over at Steve who just entered the kitchen at the tower. He takes a sip of his milky sugary coffee shaking his head.

"No? Why do you ask?"

Steve sniffs the air and frowns at him.

" You smell like your bleeding"

Peter frown as well now and tries to think. Its been a few weeks since he has hurt himself while out as Spiderman. Reaching up to rub at his neck before pausing.

"Ah okay..."

He blushes a little and then coughs lightly.

" There is that gala tonight..."

Steve nods. " Yeah it's why I came to the tower early"

Peter shifts and looks down at his coffee mug and switches it to his other hand.

" Well... you know Tony. He gets a little... ya know... we arent out yet... but he doesn't umm.. want people to think I'm up for grabs?"

" What do you...oh...Oh! " Steve coughs as well. Peter could hear him shift around. Shaking his head before he laughs.

" Alphas just can't help themselves... Bucky used to do the same with me... thinks fresh bites will help enforce the bond...but really its just for showing off. "

Peter giggles a little and nods, looking back at Steve. Probably only thinks that he has one bite and just on his neck. With his healing the normal bond bite marks are faint. Hardly noticeable. So Tony always makes apoint to rebite and then bite other areas as well.

He still is feeling embarrassed when he was in the gym with Bucky and Sam training, and he changed into some short and the bite marks on his thighs and at his navel showed. He definitely avoided those two after, even more so when Tony asked why Barnes kept smirking and nodding at him.

Peter honestly didn't know what will happen when Tony lets them be public. No more stopping him. Hopefully it won't cause a rut out of schedule. He only had one more semester at university to go before he finds out.

[professional-benaddict]

sleepy head tony x stays up late peter, best duo ever -🪐

Tony goes to bed at 9, but he always wakes up like 4 hours later. He pads around the pent house sleepily, usually just in boxers and his hair a mess. He usually finds what he is looking for on the sofa. Peter is there, working on his laptop in the dark.

“Come to bed.” Tony mumbles, wrapping his arms around Peter from behind.

“Okay, okay. Five minutes?”

“Two and a half.”

Peter kisses Tony’s arms.

“Deal.”

⭐️💫🌙✨

[starker1975]

Thinking about that scene in IW when Pete saves Tony from the (?) big guy and Tony’s immediate reaction is to try and play it cool by lying back and asking “kid, where’d you come from?” Like his ass can NOT handle not being in control around Peter, same reaction as when he got turned down at the end of homecoming lol

Lmao EXACTLLYYYY 🗣️🗣️🗣️

*whips shades off* you’re turning me down!?!?! You better think about this!! 😰😰😰 then plays it cool by telling him to skedaddle even though he just put Tony in a very awkward position 🤣

Tony’s enamoured, and that’s it 🥰🥹

[babybatscreationsv2]

Bats I’ve got a somewhat-specific prompt for you, if you’re up for it:

-Starker. Dark non-con situation. Maybe mafia or kidnapping or whatever floats your boat.

-But it’s established relationship so the non-con has been going on for a while

-Peter is used to resisting /fighting back but today for the first time he doesn’t. In fact he actually asks Tony to slap/spank/hit/hurt him mid-fuck because it’s the only way Peter can get off anymore

-Tony mocks him mercilessly for this

It's finally done 🥰

Peter's back hit the bed hard forcing a gasp from his lips. Tony's weight dropped on top of him, pushing him down into the mattress. Those dark eyes staring down at him made his heart race. A hand wrapped around his wrist, squeezing, pinning him down, while Tony kissed the side of his neck and kneed apart Peter's thighs. Peter whined, a high and pathetic sound, while he squirmed weakly beneath him.

"Are you tired today, sweetheart?" Tony's voice was mocking and amused. "You're barely putting up a fight."

Peter squeezed his eyes shut. He tried to make himself move, but it felt so good. Tony's grip was crushing his wrist leaving a bruise that would last a week. His thigh was pressing too hard into his groin and the hickies he sucked into his neck were far from what anyone could call a 'love' bite. And he loved it. And he hated himself for loving it. Because this wasn't the first time Tony had taken advantage of him, but was the first time he'd given in.

Tears welled in his eyes and shame burned in his belly. He closed his eyes to hide from it all and Tony slapped him for it.

"Look at me, baby. You know the rules. You're gonna watch me violate you."

Peter stared up at him, mouth hanging open. He shivered at the way Tony grinned at him. That cruel smile made him so hard. It wasn't fair. He'd been brainwashed into it, it wasn't his fault.

Peter whimpered as Tony pushed his cock inside, always raw because he liked to watch the cum drip out of him. He was too practiced at taking cock. It didn't hurt like it used to. It almost turned him off. Then Tony hit him again, sighing blissfully as the tears rolled down his cheeks. Peter shivered in pleasure. Embarrassment curled under his skin with the way his legs spread without thought, like he was encouraging him.

"Who's my pretty little toy," Tony purred. He pushed in deeper and deeper. He almost seemed to pout when Peter only whimpered. "Where's all that mouth today? Don't tell me you've given up."

"No..." Peter's voice came out meek and terrified, but not for the reason he would have preferred.

"Doesn't matter. We're not really here for your feelings."

He always fucked him too hard, like he wanted every movement to hurt him and it did. But it only made Peter's cock throb and his pleasure build. It wasn't enough though. Desperation grew as Tony fucked him, hard and then slow, always dragging it out just to watch him cry. But Peter wasn't crying from the pain today.

"Please," he breathed.

"There you go, sweetheart," Tony cooed. "Let it out."

Peter sobbed. "Please... hit me," he said.

Tony paused. Dread gnawed at Peter's stomach. "What did you just say?"

"No..." Peter squeaked. Tony grabbed his jaw and forced him to meet his eye.

"Say that again," he said firmly.

"Please hit me," Peter whispered.

Tony's lips curled into a smile. "Is that why you're so quiet? I knew you were a slut. All this time you were just faking it weren't you?"

"No, I wasn't!" Tony slapped him and Peter gasped. He looked up at him, silent and horny and terrified.

"You can't lie to me anymore, sweetheart." Tony held him by the throat, slowly rolling his hips, pushing his cock in too deep, making Peter whine. "You like being abused don't you? That's fucked up, Peter."

"No..." Peter whined.

Tony only laughed and hit him again. Peter melted. He was in a haze, totally useless, couldn't do anything but moan while Tony hurt him. Fucking him however hard he wanted to, slapping his face, even punching him once. Peter just moaned, cock aching and hard against his belly. Tony wouldn't let him touch himself.

"If you like it when I hurt you so much, then you cum just like this can't you?" Tony said.

Peter cried and Tony pulled his hands away from his face, holding him down, leaning down and biting his neck. He tried to hold back, grasping that last thread of dignity, but it snapped. And he came from the pain as much as the humiliation of it all.

Tony kept fucking him through it even as he laughed against his skin. When Peter felt him cum, he relaxed thinking finally it was over, he was done. Tony would leave him alone now to cry in peace.

Instead Tony looked him in the eye and Peter found something cruel gleaming there. Then Tony wrapped a hand around Peter's cock and started to stroke him.

Peter whimpered and tried to push his hands away and was slapped again for it. Tony only moved his hand faster. Tony pinned him down as he squirmed.

"You're getting hard again, baby," Tony teased.

"No- no! Please it hurts-" Peter choked on air as he gasped. "Please stop!" He cried. He tried to escape the hand pinning him down. It never stopped being painful, but as Tony kept stroking him he felt another orgasm building. His voice rose with it, screaming now, terrified. And he had every reason to be because when he came the pain that hit before the pleasure was unbearable and then he was floating on an orgasm better than he'd ever known.

Tony let go of his cock and laughed, truly laughed. "Look at you. You're fucking broken, baby.”

[starker-sorbet]

Peter was intrigued by the witch who lived in his swamp. He was obviously powerful and well trained if the spells Peter had seen cast were any indication. As well as being respectful to the swamp itself, never harvesting more than he needed for his potions and avoiding aggravating the creatures who also inhabited the area. Not to mention he's incredibly good looking. All of this made the man a promising prospect for a mate. Now how to tell the man of his intentions to court him? Humans were notoriously tricky to deal with so that left Peter mulling over his options. Maybe the head of that annoying blonde knight that kept harassing him would best show Peter's intentions.

[ursafootprints]

40. Write a 9-word fic.

👀

"Please--" Peter's first and last kiss tasted like ash.

........thanks for playing 💖

[starkerhowlter]

I ammm very curious about #Masturbate 👀

Based on my notes (because I don't remember that fic) it was a fic where Peter is alone on Valentine's Day, and he decides to use the day to take himself on a #masturdate. Basically, it's a self-date where he does a day of self-love and spoils himself and while he's getting off with his new purchases, Tony comes into May's apartment and catches him and says "Hey, Peter what are you… Oh, you have got to be kidding me this is pitiful."

And smut ensues.

[preromantics]

(had to google common kinks because my brain is dead lol sorry)

But

Starker + voyeurism?

Or

Starker + anonymous sex

Oooh let’s try anonymous (errr kinda I took it to a glory hole place)!

-

It started as a joke. It was definitely a joke.

Someone — Peter can’t even remember, because Thor and Bruce had reverse engineered some long lost Asgardian hard liquor and gotten every person in the compound, enhanced metabolism to Actual God to regular human totally shitfaced — someone had complained about the lack of sexual partner options available to bonafide superheroes.

Peter is 97% sure he did not make the original complaint, but less sure if he privately or verbally agreed with the overall sentiment.

Anyway, someone had complained.

Tony, who fell on the human spectrum of easily-shitfaced-from-Asgardian-jet-fuel but also on the unfortunately superhuman liver side, had indulged his one social drink and promptly disappeared to the lab.

A few hours later, the assorted and still standing heroes of Earth had been led on a little drunken excursion by Tony to the compound sublevels. The group arranged a wobbly and cheerful single-file line ordered by height and wove through the gym and past the boxing rings to the locker room style communal showers.

Peter, who did not have the advantage of height compared to the collection of his coworkers (friends?) who were still standing, had been one of the last to see what all the parading had been about.

The last shower stall had been partitioned into two, with shiny new floor to ceiling doors.

The new middle partition — proudly gestured to by Tony in his best Vanna White impression — sported a single hole in the wall.

“This dial here can adjust the size to your… needs,” Tony was saying, giving a practical demonstration of the lever that opened and closed the hole like the aperture function of a camera lens.

Peter would’ve taken notes, but the rush of the alcohol and the implications and the Tony of it all caught up and deafened him with white noise.

—

So, it was a joke. 30 or so assorted superheroes, Avengers and otherwise, knew that a gloryhole existed in the communal showers on level B8 of the compound.

Theoretically, any of them could use it.

Peter wondered obsessively if anyone had tried it, joke or not.

He found himself lingering after a hard workout or training session, eyes closed under the spray of one of the normal shower stalls, and senses on high alert for the echoey pad of footsteps to the end of the room.

Eventually his curiosity graduated and he found himself walking down to the partitioned and private stalls, too. Ostensively just to look. Just to see if one door was closed and not the other. Just to see if anyone might be paying attention and follow him down.

Not that Peter would use the hole with anyone. Probably.

He wasn’t even sure what side he’d pick, or what he’d do — again, not that he was thinking about it.

He absolutely, definitely did not let his exploration take him into the farthest side, the door shutting with a final-sounding soft close clink, the lighting going dim in the stall.

A small green light, unobtrusive but obvious once you knew where to look, had startled him. Occupied.

(He definitely did not enter the little stall five more days in a row until on the fifth he gathered the courage to drop to his knees to asses the height of the hole relative to his mouth and fiddle with the adjustment knob.

Tony was, if nothing else, always the perfect engineer.)

-

Peter was hyper-aware when he was sharing a workout with anyone else. Waited to see if they’d follow him into the locker room.

Sometimes they did and he showered knowing someone else was a stall away. But no footsteps ever wandered to the end of the line of shower stalls.

He wasn’t disappointed, exactly. It was just. Whoever had complained that superheroes couldn’t get laid easily was speaking the truth.

Occasionally he would be working with Tony in the labs, on the rare occasion they were at the compound at the same time, and find himself wondering if Tony remembered the superhero glory hole he’d created several floors below him.

He’d wonder if Tony ever tried it.

He’d wonder if Tony ever thought about Peter trying it. If he’d seen Peter stumble away from the drunken group field trip presentation with blotchy red on his cheeks.

He’d wonder if Tony knew the height was perfect for the distance from Peter’s knees to his mouth.

He’d wonder if he was going a little crazy about the whole Glory Hole Joke.

-

“If I sit in this chair for another minute my back is going to spontaneously throw itself out,” Tony announces from his lab bench.

Peter smirks at him, sparing a glance up from his pipette and beaker. A quip is on his tongue, the perfect time for an old man joke, but the words die in his throat.

Tony is stretching slowly from a sit to a stand, arms over his head, faded t-shirt scrunching up under his armpits to reveal a few inches of soft belly skin dusted with hair.

“Gonna go get a workout in before lunch. Dinner? Midnight snack? Honesty no idea where we’re falling in the meal spectrum right now.”

Peter swallows around his dry throat. “Dinner,” he says, though he also has no clue what time it is. “Probably.”

Tony jerks his thumb toward the elevator across the room. “Maybe I’ll see you down there,” he says.

It sounds so casual. Maybe he will. Peter wants to die a little with how much he wants to see Tony on Floor B8. A little further past the gym than Tony has in mind.

“Maybe,” Peter agrees, turning back to his pipette, which he’s pretty sure has been steadily dropping too much of the base into his reactive acid this entire time.

-

Peter spends 10 minutes cleaning up his lab bench and another 5 staring blankly at the elevator doors.

The cheerful and non-descript elevator AI asks him what floor he wants three separate times. Peter is glad it isn’t FRI or KAREN. They’d have called him out by now.

“B8,” he says.

He walks out of the elevator with purpose, resolved to head to the rowing machine and get a pre-dinner workout in with Mr. Stark, shake off his nervous and pent-up energy until it’s sweat out of his system.

There’s a small snag in his plan. Tony is running on the omni-directional treadmill, back to Peter. He has Starkphones in, completely sound proof.

Peter licks his lips at the sight of the sweat on Tony’s back, the way it causes his shirt to cling to his spine.

He makes a split second decision, borne maybe of too many late night fantasy scenarios to count. It’s easy to walk past the treadmill and cross to the other end of the facility, past the boxing rings.

It’s easy to walk down the line of shower stalls, the overhead lights pinging on instantly as he walks further and further, steps getting quicker.

It’s — it’s not perfectly easy, he has to stop and take a breath before he walks into the farthest partitioned side of the glory hole. But then it is done: the door softly closes, the little green LED flicking on, and all Peter has to do is sink down to his knees.

All Peter did was walk across a room but his heart is beating wildly like he just went stealth mode on a dangerous stake out.

The reality is Tony didn’t notice Peter even enter the gym. He might finish his workout and go up to his own expansive compound rooms to shower. He might shower here, the echo of water driving Peter insane with mental images, and never even glance down to see the subtle green light.

He might see the green light, know that Peter is there, and leave anyway.

Peter bangs his head softly against the wall, nose catching the human-sized opening awkwardly, and resigns himself to letting his legs go numb from the knees down while he waits with all his hope in his throat, anyway.

-

A soft noise, the woosh of the main locker room door, makes every hair on Peter’s arms stand up.

He swallows, pitching forward in his enclosed stall as if that will bring him closer to the source of the noise.

It could be someone else, though Peter has no idea who could be on the weekend roster.

There’s a rustle of clothing he barely needs to strain to hear. The soft thump of something hitting the ground. The hiss of the pipes, not on a human frequency, before the spray of the water gushes out of a distant shower head.

The shower is over quickly, Peter notes, though time has gone soft and slippy. He closes his eyes.

Footsteps. Toward him. The slight air sound of a door opening. The well-known click of the private stall door shutting.

Oh, god. There is someone across from him. Peter forgets to breathe for a second entirely and has to fight from making a sound as he chokes between two inhales.

He can no longer distinguish the small noises from the rushing in his own ears.

The first movement in the hole nearly startles him; just a play of shadows as someone gets ready on the other side.

Then: a cock. It slides through, half-hard, resting thick and plump along the bottom edge of the hole as it passes through. The owner of the cock feeds it all the way, the fat head bending downward and then bobbing up. Toward Peter.

Peter inhales; the scent is clean and his lungs struggle to fill all the way. He rocks forward, drawn to the half-comical, half-arousing reality of the anonymous cock through the hole.

Is it really anonymous? Statistically, Peter thinks it should be Tony. He was in the gym. Would he know it was Peter on the other side? Tony invited Peter down to workout, so the odds were decent the other way around.

Tentatively, Peter darts his tongue out to lick across the head of the cock. It’s flushed darker than the root, and the salty sweet of it blooms on Peter’s tongue.

He may have just licked Tony Stark’s fat cock head for the first time. The idea of it thrills Peter to his bones, his own cock throbbing against the zip of his jeans.

There’s a chance it isn’t Tony.

Peter licks a bolder stripe across the head, swirling around the ridge. His saliva glands are over active, he’s practically drooling already at the idea of this.

There’s a chance it’s someone else. Peter may never even find out.

His cock twitches at that, too. Fuck. He wraps his lips around the entire head, drenching it with his own slick excitement as he opens his mouth up further and slides down several inches in his eagerness.

He gags, pulls back, and returns immediately.

The man on the other side of the wall is silent, but a slight bang against the wall — the slap of someone’s hand to the partition, as if Peter’s already doing such a good job they can’t help it — makes Peter shove more of the warm cock between his lips to muffle any of his own noises.

If he moaned, he’s sure someone could pick out the octave of his voice and just know. They’d know Peter is twenty seconds into this and already drooling for it.

Tony would know for sure. The thought makes Peter palm his own cock, wishing he’d thought to unzip his jeans while he waited, but not wanting to stop to focus enough to do so now.

He would’ve felt so pathetic, waiting alone, pants undone and cock half-hard with anticipation. Now, he’s stuck curling his fingers against the denim of his fly and worrying he might leak precome through his briefs and jeans by the end of this.

He tongues along the bottom vein of the cock in front of him, marveling at the weight of it and at the stretch of his lips around it as they drag slickly up and down. The angle is decent, but still strange, his neck stiff as he tries to bob back and forth to take the entire thing.

The cock in his mouth is definitely fully hard now, pulsing and flexing against Peter’s tongue, the tip bursting an addictive drop of precome every few passes. The taste is such a contrast to the soap-clean skin of the length that every taste forces Peter to swallow back a moan.

His nose mashes slightly against the wall when he focuses enough to take as much as he can down his throat. It feels deliriously good, a sense of terribly slutty pride coursing through him every time his nose hits the partition over the hole.

He’s slid all the way down when the owner of the cock abruptly slides back out.

Peter’s mouth opens around an unvoiced protest, barely catching a whine from spilling out before the cock slides back in, fucking back between Peter’s parted swollen lips and down his open throat.

He does moan at that, deep and hopefully muffled by his mouth full of cock.

Peter catches on quickly: he can keep his mouth open, his forehead and nose pressed hard against the wall, and the stranger on the other end can simply fuck his mouth.

It’s so simple to stay still, dragging his tongue back and forth and dragging his hand over his own trapped cock while he gets efficiently face fucked. It’s almost dream-like, two pinpoints of focus — the stranger’s pleasure and Peter’s pleasure — taking up all the space in his brain.

A hand slaps the wall on the other side again, harder this time, the cock in Peter’s mouth tensing and pulsing before his throat is coated with come.

Peter comes in his own pants, hips frantically bucking as he swallows down several continuous seconds of anonymous come. He bangs his head on the wall, hard, trying to balance and keep his position at the same time.

When the cock slides out from between hips lips, dragging and lingering on Peter’s bottom lip for a moment before disappearing, Peter falls back against the tile and inhales sharply.

He waits for the click of the door on the other side of the wall and for the padding of the feet to disappear. He doesn’t even have the mental energy to try and figure out if he recognizes the sound and weight of the softly echoing feet.

He forgets about dinner, peeling himself off the floor eventually and floating all the way to his room.

-

In the morning, Peter is slow to rise, feeling heavy-limbed and not awake enough to revisit the previous night.

When he finally manages to roll out of bed and head to the communal kitchens, the line of Tony’s back at the breakfast bar greets him first.

Peter flashes to the sweat-soaked gym shirt from the night before and swallows around a suddenly dry mouth once again.

“Hey shortstack,” Rhodes calls from the other side of the counter.

Peter gives him a tired salute, covering for his slight startle, and heads for the fridge behind Tony.

“You two see any ghosts while you were rattling around this place all by your lonesomes last night?” Rhody asks.

Peter just catches himself from overpouring his orange juice onto the counter as the dots connect in his head. He never did look at the weekend security roster.

Surely Rhody can’t mean he and Tony were the only—

“Ghosts? No, just me and Pete, who ghosted me for dinner.”

Tony turns and grabs the freshly poured orange juice glass from Peter’s hands, catching his finger tips as he pulls it free and sparking heat up Peter’s fingers in return.

“For me? You didn’t have to,” Tony says, catching Peter’s startled glance with a too-wide smile.

He takes a wide gulp, only breaking eye contact to turn around and set the glass down.

Tony slaps the counter with a small, satisfied groan. “Delicious,” he says brightly.

Rhody rolls his eyes and turns back to his phone and eggs.

Peter stands still. The slap echos over and over again in Peter’s head as he flushes. Oh.

——-

WELL I said I was going to answer these on my phone and I did. Oops. Will edit and whatever on my computer tomorrow hahaha.

[starkerlove]

cop husband tony/ shy wifey peter request where Tony gets cuffed on bed while his wife, peter rides his dick. smut request ;P

CUFFS

NSFW

"Please, Tony!" Peter asked blushing hard as he looked at his husband with big eyes.

"Okay, okay, you can do it, baby" Tony smirked.

Peter jumped happily and quickly got to undress Tony completely. Cuffing him to the headboard so he was completely naked and spread just for Peter.

"Are you happy to see me?" Peter asked Tony's hard dick springing into action when he touched Tony's thighs.

"C'mon, babe... Let me see you work on me" Tony asked.

Peter slowly sat himself down on Tony's dick, feeling it spreading his ass open "Fuck... So good..." He moaned, hands pinching Tony's nipples "You open me up so good, tony... Fuck!" He started to ride his cock, rocking his hips and moving up and down. His own hard dick bouncing against his stomach.

Tony licked over his lips, he wished he could squeeze Peter's cock and make him come right there. He tugged against the cuffs "Touch yourself baby"

Peter immediately complied, using one hand to stroke himself at the same pace he fucked himself on Tony's cock.

"Come for me... I'm gonna come inside you..." Tony warned as he gasped for air moving his hips against Peter's ass and coming inside of him deeply.

"Yes!" Peter came in his own hand and laid down on Tony's stomach, kissing his chest.

[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

[spider-mancan]

sometimes tony wants to get fucked but he’s heard from a young age how much that doesn’t fit with his public persona. even if he does go out and find a dick, people generally assume tony stark is calling the shots.

enter peter parker, an incredibly naive — and purportedly legal — young man with a baby face and giant muscles and a need to please. when peter says “you’re Tony stark!” Tony just replies “yeah, i get that all the time,” and peter takes that at face value. after all, why would tony stark be in this dive bar about to get fucked in the bathroom?

but Peter become another person once things get filthy, and for once it’s tony who’s trying to get peter to stick around just one more time

[winterspiderpurrs]

Um you asked for prompts and I was thinking if you could pretty please write Pepper breaking up with Tony, and well although it was hard he moved on and after a while he started dating Peter feeling loved, and maybe altough Pepper was the one that ended the relationship she wasn't able to move even though she tried. She tried to find a way to get back with Tony thinking maybe Peter was just a phase and a notch in Tony's belt, but she was very wrong, and now has to carry with her mistake. Thank you, and I hope you have a good time on your time off ❤️❤️

It's been a year and half since Pepper gave Tony back the engagement ring. The last near death heroic save the day experience was a bit much. The last straw as she told Tony.

She packed up her bags and moved out to work from California. She was leaving Tony, not the company.

After a year, Tony and Pepper were back as friends. Tony even came out to California to show Peter the office there.

He told Pepper that Peter had never seen a true beach. It was a short visit, but it brought back memories. And she started to really miss Tony.

But a month later, when she called Tony; wanted to tell him she was thinking of coming back to New York. Friday answered and said that Tony was busy but if it was an emergency she would patch her through.

" Lab time isn't a reason to close people out. Patch me through"

" I'm sorry Ms. Potts but Boss is not in the lab. He is out on a date."

That caused Pepper to pause. Friday wouldn't have divulged that unless she was making a point. Tony was off limits to her now.

Then a few weeks go by and she tells Tony during one of there weekly business calls that she plans on making a trip out to New York. Probably will stay a few months, maybe more. Tony was fine with it, tells her he will set up a floor in the tower with her.

She wasn't expecting to have a floor so much lower then what she expected. There were more then 15 floors between the lab and closer to 20 between Tony's private quarters.

After a few weeks, Pepper finally finds out who Tony is dating.

" This meeting is important Tony! Even if you only stop in for 20 minutes."

" I'm going to be upstate with my boo. I could video in. Maybe. But depending on how busy I am" Tony wiggles his eyebrows and has a big smile on his face. "But then again Peter might take away lab time again if I put off my duties..."

Pepper rolls her eyes. " Whatever Peter has to get you to do your job. Then you can go run off with your boo. "

" Well seeing them as one and the same thats easier said then done"

"What?"

Tony pauses and spins around in his chair that was at his work station. He watches Pepper for a moment, head tilted, before his eyes widen and he snaps his fingers.

" Ah... you don't know. I'm dating Peter..."

" Teenaged Spiderman??"

"Hold on now! He is 21 now and its only been for the last 6 months. I thought I told you?"

Pepper rolled her eyes. " You said you were dating a pretty young thing. Not your one-time fake intern hero worshiping Spiderman little genius this could cause such a scandal Tony!"

" No scandal! Everything by the books. We are fine Pep"

Shaking her head, she sighed, " If you say so, Tony, but at least warn me so I can run P.R. when you are done"

Tony didn't talk to her for a week after that. But Pepper knows Tony. He indulges too much. He will either get bored with Peter once the novelty runs out, or Peter will break it off when he gets jealous of how much Pepper knows Tony.

Pepper easily slotted herself back into Tony's life. Everything was pretty much the same. The only thing is she just wasn't physical with him like before and that she wasn't going to bed with him. But they acted the same.

She had a secret weapon, though, her red suit. Custom designed by Tony, his favorite hot rod red color, Tony could NEVER resist her in his suit he made. At around midnight, she walked down to the lab, and she frowned when the door wouldn't open.

" Friday, I need to speak to Tony"

" I apologize Ms. Potts but Boss is unavailable"

" Its important Friday, just open the door."

" Let me clarify. Boss isn't in the lab. Peter has already carried Tony off to bed. Tonight was date night and Tony is required to sleep a minimum of 6 hours. "

Pepper blinks and stares. She has never been able to get Tony out of the lab. Ever. The most she ever got was sweeping in, they leave to make love, and then Tony would leave her to come back. Only two hours of sleep if they shared a bed from Tony, if that.

Tony has never given up lab time. For anyone. But for Peter it seems.

It dawns on her. She has seen Peter hand things to Tony. Peter putting a reassuring hand on Tony. Peter brings food to Tony to make sure he eats. Peter is working alongside Tony in the lab. Tony appears more relaxed. He seems less stressed and happy.

The familiar ache starts in her chest.

She has missed her chance.

[professional-benaddict]

Stephen and Tony laying in bed. They have been together for 7 years now. Maybe they are having late night talks, serious, bare it all talks. And maybe on this night, they talk about "the one that got away" they are happy together, and things are great and wouldn't trade each other for the world.

But both their pasts are complicated. Most people are not still best friends with their ex's who got together. Who knew that Pepper and Christine would end up as the love story of the century.

But surprisingly, they don't say those names- the one the other was expecting.

" See... there was this intern. His name was Peter; I never clicked so well with someone. But he was young.... Pepper said it was bad PR so we kept it quite. We didn't go public... we were together about a year, but I still wasn't off the wagon.. just better at hiding it at that point... there was a party. I can't really remember the night, but the next day he was gone. ..."

" Funnily mine was named Peter too.... his aunt was a nurse at the hospital, and he volunteered there a lot for the scholarship for his college. We fit well together, I knew he had recently gotten out of a relationship, but we were moving fast. I had a long day with intense surgery... one of the few patients I lost. I was angry. I know he was trying to encourage me. But I wasn't having it. I said.... so many hurtful things... Came home a few days later to a package of my things from his place at the door."

Would they realize they were talking about the same Peter??

And just who is Peter with now....

- WinterSpiderPurrs

A year later, Stephen and Tony are at a charity event. They already made their donations, but they have to show some face as well. The couple is very much looking forward to leaving soon and going on a date, just the two of them. Tony found a new exciting looking restaurant they want to try.

Seeing familiar faces in the crowd is to be expected, but this one feels different. It stirs up something in Tony, even after just one glance. His curls are shorter, but the colour is the same.

The young man turns, and their eyes meet. Tony doesn’t make the first move, too embarrassed to do so. He knows he was in the wrong way back then. But, the man approaches. God, Peter is even more beautiful now.

“Mr Stark! It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah, it really has. Mr Parker.” Tony manages to breathe out shakily. Peter’s smile seems so genuine, but there is something in his eyes. It is hard to pinpoint with all the memories swirling in Tony’s mind.

“Hey, honey. Ready to get going?” Stephen swoops in from behind, putting a hand on the back of Tony’s neck.

“Oh, Doctor Strange, too. Wow!” Peter gasps.

Only now does Stephen notice Peter and his eyes go wide in surprise.

“Peter! I didn’t expect to see you here.” Stephen says, reaching a hand out in a greeting. Peter takes it, but lets go quickly.

“Wait, you know him?” Tony asks, making Stephen turn to him with a puzzled look.

“Yes, uhm- he volunteered at the hospital. Is- is that- intern Peter?”

The husbands start talking over each other, not really listening to one another, but neither wants to back down either. By the time they look around, Peter has disappeared.

Date night probably isn’t going to go as they hoped it would.

——

i would love love looove if you continued it a little bit if you can hehe☺️☺️ maybe stephen and tony meet peter on their way out and see him with someone?? @winterspiderpurrs 💗💗

[starker1975]

Peter orders a sexbot Tony Stark and it's great, Peter gets fucked exactly the way he wants. Only, there is a malfunction and the bot doesn't stop, and it's incredibly strong so Peter has to really struggle to get out of its grip. But while he struggles, he comes again and again and it's tiring him out. He passes out after the fifth, but when he wakes up the bot is still going, once again fucking him into oblivion. So he basically gets fucked until the bot's battery drains 👀

❤

Poor Peter!! 🥺(😈) That’s such a cruel thing to do to him!! (🥵😵‍💫🤑)

And what if he’s lying there on the floor of his apartment in a pool of his own sweat, tears, and come… and the real Tony comes to check on him? He’s worried since Peter hasn’t been to the lab in a few days… hasn’t logged into the Stark network via his suit or any of his tech.

Tony pulls the dead bot off Peter who’s barely conscious, scoops him up and puts him to bed. Stays over until Peter’s awake, and at first Peter thinks he’s hallucinating. But he soon realizes he’s got the real Mr. Stark in his bedroom.

Then it clicks, what Mr. Stark has seen. He is utterly ashamed and humiliated. He believes Tony is disgusted with him, only stayed out of obligation but will now leave and never speak to him again. Take everything away.

“I’m so sorry, sir. I’m so sorry. Please forget this ever happened. I didn’t mean—” he can’t even finish the sentence because it’s a lie. He meant it when he searched the product, then selected the version he wanted, entered his credit card information, submitted the order… No excuse.

But all Tony does is smooth Peter’s matted hair back from his face and feed him water, and say, “All you had to do was ask, Pete. Could’ve saved you—what is it they’re charging for these things?” A quick tap of his glasses tells him. “Three grand? Huh… mildly insulting. But nonetheless. Whaddaya say?”

Peter’s mind is spinning. “Wh-what?”

“How about I show you the real thing?” Tony clarifies. “I can’t go for days, but I think I could wreck you just the same within a few hours. Give or take.”

[babybatscreationsv2]

could you maybe write something where tony takes his son peter to get some new clothes but he ends up needing “assistance” in the changing room?

I went a little heavy on the incest kink but like sue me 🤷‍♀️

...

....

Peter twisted and turned in front of the mirror. He'd thought he wanted the booty shorts but now that they were on maybe it was a little too much. And maybe so was the crop top...

He looked himself over again and again, but he just couldn't decide. He needed a second opinion and at least his dad had never shamed him for what he wore before. So he was probably trust worthy now right?

"Hey dad?" Peter called through the dressing room door.

"What's up, kiddo?"

"I think I could use some help in here."

"Need me to zip up your dress?" he teased.

"I didn't get any dresses but if you think I should..." Peter laughed back though the idea wasn't terrible. Maybe he should try one on.

Tony tapped on the door as he reached it and Peter pulled it open. He grabbed the man and pulled him in before anyone could see, just in case.

"So, what do you think?" He held his arms out and turned in a slow circle. "Is it too much?"

His dad was unusually silent, but he didn't seem upset. Peter couldn't help but blush as he was observed. He took Peter by the shoulders and turned him toward the mirror.

"That depends. What were you going for?"

Peter blushed. He was going for 'horny, available, twink' but that felt silly now. His father's fingers traced the hem of his shorts in a line from the front of his thigh to where they rest just at the bottom of his ass.

"I think these could be shorter," he said, but the teasing fell from his voice as each word came out. The tips of his fingers curled under the fabric. "Are you wearing anything under these?"

"Ugh... my briefs were too long so... no." Peter chewed his lip. This was so dumb, why did he call him in here?

"That's gonna be a problem if you end up getting the attention you're after," one wandering hand found his bare abdomen and slid down. His fingers trailed over his crotch.

"I wasn't..." Peter tried to argue, but he looked into his father's eyes and he couldn't. He looked so... interested. Those fingers kept running up and down, making it hard to breathe. "Dad?"

"This is what you wanted, right?" He palmed Peter's ass through the shorts. "You need male attention? Have I been neglecting you?"

"It's not like that."

"No? All those work trips don't bother you? You don't wish some old man would feel you up and make you call him daddy? Don't you wish it was me?" He groped Peter's cock more openly through the shorts.

"Please," Peter gasped.

"Please stop? Or please more?"

"More," he whined.

Tony pulled him back against his chest. With one hand he held his chin and tilted his head up, meeting his eyes in the mirror. With the other he pressed his palm against Peter's hardening cock. "What a little whore you've become," his father purred in his ear. He kissed the side of his neck and Peter moaned.

"Daddy-" A hand covered his mouth.

"You want someone to hear your dad touching you?"

"Please please please!" He begged under his palm. Peter squirmed in his hands. His cock ached.

"You're gonna cum in these shorts and then I'm going to buy you this slutty little outfit and you're only going to wear it for me, understand?"

"Yes, daddy."

Tony took his hand away. He watched him in the mirror. "What was that, kiddo?"

"Yes, daddy," Peter moaned.