#cut me some slack w/every day that passes I'm more & more less likely to see him & my guys in person again😔😭

[sandiegokpop]

Junho at Tommy Hilfiger for New York Fashion Week 2024

[css1992]

Do you take prompts? Cause I'm dying to read some good Mob boss Tony who's badass with everyone else and melts down for his baby Peter! :) Thank you anyways 😊

Hello there! I’m not sure I’m gonna take prompts yet, because I’m a really slow writer and would probably get overwhelmed way too quickly, but I do love myself some Mob Boss!Tony, I just needed an excuse to write it, haha.

@roleplayangelprincess, I really do hope you like this! Thank you for reaching out. XO

Mob Boss!Tony x Precious!Peter

Word count: 5k+

Warnings: explicit, nff, 18+, mentions of blood, violence, torture and child abuse (nothing explicit), no violence between main pairing. Mafia AU. If you spot anything else that might be triggering to anyone, please let me know!

-*-

Tony’s world had always smelt of gunpowder, blood and tears, for as long as he could remember. The only lullabies he knew were the sounds of shots being fired, screams of horror and desperate begging. Howard used to say it was important that he was raised in the middle of all that, he believed it would make him a tougher man, a firmer leader. He wanted Tony to experience all those situations he usually found himself in, because one day it would all be his – his whole empire, all of New York City’s underworld would be in the palm of his hands, and the scum of the earth that lived in it would be able to smell fear, weakness and softness from three thousand miles away.

So Tony never knew softness, kindness or gentleness. He was raised on blood, tears and gunpowder, to the sounds of screams, gunshots and begging. He was groomed to be a leader as heartless and cold as Howard, to be able to pull the trigger without hesitating. Cold and calculated. He was eight when he killed for the first time, just old enough to support the weight of the gun with both hands and handle its kickback.

The man had begged and cried, looking into his eyes, and Tony didn’t feel anything, he had heard those sounds so many times by then, it did nothing to him. Howard said “do it” and he did. He pulled the trigger. The man’s blood spattered his face and arms and shirt and it was weirdly warm, like teardrops on his skin. He stood there, mesmerized for a few seconds, before Maria told him to go clean up and get ready for supper.

That episode was his life in a nutshell, the smells, the sounds, the darkness, his mother’s reaction, his father’s nod of approval. He grew used to it all, he embraced it, he craved it, and he didn’t know anything else.

Until Peter.

Peter was a ray of fucking sunshine on Tony’s cloudy, dark days, and he hated it at first. He hated that he made his world brighter, he hated that Peter made him want to bend to his every wish, hated that he made him want to protect him from the world, hated that he made him feel so fucking vulnerable, and weak, and exposed, but he loved him. He fucking loved him so much. He had no idea when it started,  but it felt like from day one, he never had a choice.

Tony had just left one of his clubs in a terrible mood, one of his most profitable deals had fallen though due to his employees’ incompetence and he had had to kill people – six, to be precise –  it was a bloodbath, there was running and screaming and just nonsense in general, as he sat there and rolled his eyes at the failed escape attempts. To top it all off, there was blood on his favorite suit. It was a three-piece, Italian cut suit and it would go to waste thanks to those idiots running around like fools. All in all, a bad day.

“Excuse me, sir! Excuse me!” And then, sunshine. That chirpy, high-pitched voice coming from behind him was slightly annoying, and if he had been just a little more pissed he would have turned and shot him on the spot, no questions asked, but as it was, he’d maybe just tell him to fuck off.

When he turned around, though, there was a young man looking back at him, clearly scared now. Tony noticed that Rogers and Barnes had their guns pointed at him, as he raised his shaky, thin arms in surrender, a black, Italian leather wallet in his hand. “Y-you, y-you dr-drop...” He couldn’t even speak, so Tony took that time to look him over. He looked young, probably in his late teens or early twenties, he was thin and short and he had a very pretty face for a boy. He wore baggy jeans and an oversized NYU hoodie, so Tony guessed he was a student. In short, a very delicious meal for such a shitty night.

“Rogers, my wallet,” Tony cut the boy off, gesturing for Steve to get his wallet from him. He almost passed out when the blonde man approached him, still holding the gun to his face.

“I don’t mean any trouble, sir, I’m so sorry, I just found the wallet on the ground, I-I swear,” He whimpered pitifully and the sound made Tony’s cock twitch. He raised an eyebrow at himself.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, looking around to maybe try to figure out where the boy had come from. They were in a deserted area, somewhere between Queens and Brooklyn, near one of his clubs and a few of his warehouses, there was nothing around there that would justify Peter’s presence, unless he had ulterior motives and the college student get-up was just a ruse.

“W-walking home from work, sir. I-I didn’t have any money left f-for the subway,” He stuttered, hands still up, he was shaking all over now, and it usually didn’t bother Tony, but he was such a pretty thing, the older man didn’t like to see those squirming for the wrong reasons, he had other uses for them. If the boy was harmless, that terrible night could still be saved.

“What’s your name, boy?” That was all Natasha needed to run a background check on him and, in that moment, he found out the name of what would come to be his greatest weakness. Peter Parker. He looked at Barnes and he nodded quietly, sending a message to Natasha to run a quick check. As soon as it came back clear, he opened a big, shark-like smile at the still trembling boy. “Well, it appears we got off on the wrong foot, sweetheart.”

In retrospect, Tony wouldn’t be able to tell what possessed him that night, what made him think that it would be a good idea to lure him into his car and offer him a ride home. He knew that the boy did things to him, he was gorgeous and innocent-looking, a personal favorite, but Tony didn’t often act on impulse. Even his one-night-stands were carefully chosen and vetted, he couldn’t afford to take any risks; but that night, for the first time – the first of many –, he made an exception for Peter Parker. He didn’t know what made the younger man come with him, either, specially after being held at gunpoint by Rogers and Barnes, but he came, probably possessed by the same entity that clouded Tony’s judgment.

The mob boss made up a story about being the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company and told him that Rogers and Barnes were his bodyguards. He wasn’t too far off from the truth, he did run a multi-billion dollar business and Barnes and Rogers were the only two people in the world he trusted with his life. He told the naive boy that he couldn’t tell him the company’s name for safety reasons, and he ate it all up like a good boy, got in the car with Tony and was easily charmed by his words.

What the older man didn’t count on, though, was that he was really charming, too, in his own way. He was smart and sharp, slightly sarcastic and sassy, and really, really sweet. The older man couldn’t quite understand why it attracted him so much when he took the boy back to his place, but it did, and when he had him sprawled on his one-thousand thread count Egyptian sheets, mouth slack and begging for more, he thought it was merely lust.

Only it didn’t go away after that first night, but Tony thought he just had to fuck him out of his system, which seemed easy enough. He invited Peter to dinner – unfortunately, he had to keep up the facade of being a nice gentleman if he wanted to have him again – and the boy was so fucking happy to hear from him when he picked up the phone. Tony could swear his room got brighter when his voice filled up the empty space.

He was just as charming and even more sassy the second time they met, a little less shy, a little bolder now that Tony knew what he looked like naked and stuffed full of his cock. He took him back home again. And again. And again. By the fifth time they got together, Tony realized – with the utmost horror – that he was beginning to care about the boy. He longed to see him, he wanted to know about his days; he was amused by his antics, he remembered the names of his friends from school, and the professors he liked and disliked. He wanted to hurt the people who made him sad for whatever reason, he was worried about his eating habits, he wanted to make all his money problems disappear. He cared about him.

So, logically, he had to kill him.

There was just no other way, Tony Stark couldn’t afford to care about anybody, it was too big of a weakness, it was gonna be his downfall and he couldn’t have it. So by the sixth night, he did what he had to do. He unwrapped the thin, pale arms from his chest, untucked the sweet-smelling head from under his chin, and got out of bed. He took his gun from the nightstand drawer and pointed it at Peter’s head.

He’d make it painless, the boy wouldn’t have to suffer, he’d die peacefully in his sleep. Tony would have to buy another bed, but other than that, it wouldn’t be much of a clean-up, the way the boy was lying almost in the center of the bed, there wouldn’t even be blood on the floor. Besides, he didn’t have any family left, he only had a couple of friends at school and two more who were away for college, so not many people to look for him. They’d think he’d moved away or something.

Tony stared at him over the barrel of his gun. As soon as he had stepped out of the bed, Peter reached for his pillow and clutched it like a doll, dreaming away, with an almost unnoticeable smile on his lips, completely unaware that he was sharing a bed with the most dangerous criminal in New York, possibly in the whole country. So innocent, and naive, and beautiful.

He was so tiny, so out of place in his cold, dark world. Peter didn’t smell like blood or gunpowder, he smelled like something sweet and edible, he never screamed or cried, he always had a bright smile for him and the most delectable laugh.

Tony faltered. No matter how hard he tried to will his finger to pull the trigger, he couldn’t do it, he just couldn’t fucking do it. He squeezed his eyes shut and lowered the gun, cursing under his breath, unable to believe he couldn’t do such a simple thing. Eight-years-old Tony hadn’t fucking blinked when Howard told him to do it. Why couldn’t he fucking do it?

“Tony? Is everything okay?” When he opened his eyes again, Peter was sitting up, and he looked worried. Tony noticed his eyes were fixed on the gun in his hand. “What’s going on?” He whispered, looking around the room, as if there was a threat out there, little did he know he was face to face with the devil himself.

“Nothing, sweetheart, I just thought I heard something. I checked, it’s nothing, go back to sleep.” He put the gun back in the drawer and the boy breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh, good. Come back to bed, then.” He reached out his arms to Tony, so open and trusting, sitting on his big bed, swallowed by all those expensive sheets, wearing one of his old t-shirts. So fucking small, and breakable, and vulnerable. Tony couldn’t keep him. As long as the boy was alive, he would be a weakness, he could be used as leverage.

So he needed to die. It was for his own good.

The next day, he called Barnes into his office, lighted up a cigar and slowly smoked it as he tried to digest the words he had to say to him. The other man stood there stoically, waiting patiently, until Tony blurted out, “I need you to kill Peter.” He didn’t move a muscle, didn’t even flinch. Professional as ever.

“When do you need it done, boss?” Barnes was the best man for the job, Steve was great, but he was a little soft, and Tony saw the way he looked at the kid, with that small, discreet smile full of fondness.

“Tonight,” he said, jaw set, eyes narrowed. It needed to be done. “He has a night shift at the diner. He gets off at eleven, I want it done by then. You know the drill, be discreet, careful not to make much of a mess, don’t leave any witnesses, yada yada.” He gestured with his cigar, feeling detached, like he was talking about anybody else but Peter.

“You got it, boss.” Barnes nodded and turned to leave, only to be stopped by Tony’s voice.

“Barnes,” Tony didn’t look at him when he turned around. “Make it quick. And painless.”

“Of course.”

So Tony waited. And that day might as well have lasted a fucking year, the way the hours dragged, he couldn’t concentrate on his meetings, couldn’t fucking eat, not even his cigars were enough to calm him down. He was snapping at his employees, killing people for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, losing money for being too fucking off his game.

Around ten that night, he sat on his favorite armchair, the one one in which he and Peter fucked when they couldn’t even make it to the bed, and waited. He drank his scotch and pretended to think of something else, anything, but his mind kept going back to Peter’s lifeless body covered in blood. Gone forever. He lighted up a cigar and, when he noticed his fingers were fucking shaking as it approached eleven o’clock, he realized he couldn’t fucking do it. At ten fifty-eight, he called Barnes.

“Barnes, what’s your status?” He asked, a lump in his throat, afraid it was too late already.

“He’s gathering up his things to leave, boss.” He answered calmly and Tony sighed in relief.

“I’m calling it off. Come back here right now, you and Rogers.”

“Yes, boss.”

As he waited for them, he poured himself a glass of scotch, weighting his options. He couldn’t kill Peter, but he couldn’t let him be a weakness either, so he needed a plan. First of all, Peter couldn’t be kept in the dark anymore, it was too dangerous. Second of all, nobody could ever know about him, the only two people who already knew he existed were Barnes and Rogers, and he would keep it that way.

“It’s your duty to make sure no one knows about him. Not a single soul. I mean it.” He stared at them intently and they looked back at him impassibly, nodding. “If anyone gets a whiff of him, if anyone tries to harm him in any way, I’m gonna choose one of you to torture and kill and let the other one watch and then lock them in the same room with the body to watch it rot, are we clear?”

“Yes, boss,” they both answered in unison, unfazed. One of the reasons Tony trusted them with his life was because they were each other’s weakness, they were easy to threaten. The second reason, of course, was because they risked their lives to rescue him when the Ten Rings gang managed to kidnap him, under Obadiah Stane’s orders, the jealous bastard. Nobody else came but them, and they took down the whole gang by themselves. He rewarded them handsomely, and they became the highest ranking people in his inner circle, followed closely by Natasha and Bruce.

“Good. Bring him to me.”

Not even an hour later, Peter walked into his office, looking frightened. As soon as he saw Tony, though, he breathed a great sigh of relief, rushing to his side to sit on his lap and hold him tight. Tony raised a brow, confused.

“I was so worried, Bucky and Steve just picked me up and they wouldn’t say anything, I thought something had happened to you.” His little arms clutched his neck tightly, desperately, and Tony’s heart swelled with emotions he didn’t even know existed. He breathed in the boy’s scent, feeling nervous all of a sudden, he wasn’t sure why.

“We need to talk, Peter.” He held his head with both hands and pushed him a little. “Maybe you’ll want to sit a little farther away from me for what I’m about to tell you.”

“I know what you’re gonna tell me. Please, don’t.” Tony froze at that, muscles going rigid, eyes wide. He stared at the kid’s face and he looked embarrassed, sad and scared.

“What do you think you know, Pete?” He asked quietly, studying the boy’s reactions. He shrugged his shoulders, avoiding Tony’s eyes.

“I think you’re not really a CEO,” he whispered, as a single tear ran down his cheek. Tony reached out to dry it immediately. “I-I think you h-hurt people… And stuff.”

“What stuff? Why do you think that?” He tucked a curl behind his ear and placed a finger on his chin to force him too look at him.

“I don’t know what stuff, just… Stuff. Illegal stuff.” More tears followed and he closed his eyes briefly, opening them a few seconds later. Tony waited patiently. “I’ve heard you on the phone a few times, I can smell gunpowder on you. And – blood. And it’s never yours.” Tony nodded slowly, watching his boy falling apart before his eyes, he looked pained. He was clearly a lot smarter then he let on and a lot sneakier, if he had been listening in on his phone calls. Weirdly, the older man wasn’t even mad.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” He questioned, trying to dry his tears again, holding the boy’s cheeks in his palms. He nodded slowly.

“It terrifies me,” he admitted quietly. “But I – I just. I can’t stay away from you.” He frowned and Tony sighed, smiling softly.

“I couldn’t hurt you if I tried, baby boy.” He wanted to laugh at how true that was.

“I know. I think I know that, just. Just don’t tell me wh– I don’t want to know. The things you do.”

“Of course, it has nothing to do with you, you’re not a part of this world. I’m just gonna need you to be more careful, ok, baby? We’ll set a few ground rules, and everything will be just fine.” He rubbed the boys arms as he nodded, but he still seemed agitated and nervous. ”Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“I – Yeah, I guess.” He tried to smile but it turned into a grimace as a few more tears escaped his eyes. “I’m really scared.”

“Peter, listen to me. You don’t ever have to be scared, do you hear me? No one can touch you, you’re under my protection. Do you understand that? No one would dare, I swear to you. I swear it.” There was a lot of confidence in his voice, but he was terrified himself, he was afraid he couldn’t keep that promise, but Peter believed him. The way his face softened and he was finally able to smile again, Tony knew he believed him.  

They took it one day at a time, slowly figuring out their own rules. After that talk, they didn’t see each other for a few weeks, just in case someone had taken notice of the fact that Peter had entered the tower seven times over the course of four months. Then, for the boy’s spring break, Tony took him to Japan for a week, where they could walk around freely, hand in hand, only taking a few precautions before traveling, like not boarding the same plane. After that, they were able to establish a weekly routine, they never met on the same day or at the same time, but they never went more than a week without seeing each other. Quickly, days turned into weeks, which turned into months, which turned into years. Two whole years, and Tony still couldn’t believe how a boy like Peter could belong with a monster like him.

“Boss, the prince is upstairs,” Barnes warned him as soon as he stepped into the tower, to Tony’s surprise. They hadn’t scheduled anything for that night and, for a few seconds, the older man panicked and it must have shown, no matter how hard he tried to suppress it. “He’s unharmed. He insisted that I brought him as a surprise, just a heads-up.” He added and the boss let out a breath slowly, nodding.

“Very well.”

Tony hurried upstairs and as soon as he stepped inside the apartment, he was gifted with the sight of his young lover sitting on his armchair. He was wearing one of the older man’s t-shirts, his favorite one, the oldest Tony owned. He didn’t seem to be wearing anything underneath it, as Tony got a glimpse of his cute little cock peeking out from under the hem of his shirt, between his parted legs. The boy was sleeping, head resting on a hand, propped on the arm of the chair.

The older man walked towards him, loosening his tie, then stopped in front of him. He knelt by his feet, stroked his calves lightly and kissed both of his knees softly. The boy’s eyes fluttered open in surprise, until they finally focused on Tony.

“My prince,” The older man greeted, kissing his way up the pale, plump legs, stopping at the hem of the t-shirt. “Did I keep you waiting?”

“Tony,” He mumbled sleepily, running his fingers through the other’s graying hair. “It’s okay, I was hoping to surprise you, actually, but I guess I fell asleep.” His hand slid towards the older man’s cheek and he leaned into it like a cat, turning a little to place a kiss on his palm.

“Good boy,” he resumed his kisses on pale, shivering thighs, and Peter sighed quietly. “What was this surprise about, baby boy?”

“Just missed you, it’s been a while,” Peter adjusted himself on the chair, sliding his lower half down the seat and spreading his legs wider, until Tony could see a sparkle between the boy’s cheeks, where his pink, tight hole should be. The young man was blushing slightly, Tony found it endearing that he still did, after all that time.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, have I been neglecting you?” His fingers slid across Peter’s legs, thumbs drawing circles on the sensitive skin on the inside of his thighs, and the boy’s breath hitched as he got closer and closer to his balls. Tony saw his small cock flushing pink as it stood to attention, and the toy inside his hole jerked.

“It’s okay, you’re busy.” Which was absolutely true. Between Peter’s classes, Tony’s tight schedule and having to keep the boy a secret, there wasn’t a lot of time for them to meet, but Tony would correct that soon. When the boy graduated in a couple of months, he wouldn’t be such an easy target anymore, at least he wouldn’t have a predictable schedule in such a public place. He could live at the tower, where it was safe, and Barnes and Rogers could take care of him whenever he needed to go out.

“I was, little one, but I have all the time in the world for you now, let’s see this surprise of yours, shall we?” He spread Peter’s legs further, placing each of them on the arms of the chair, his boy was incredibly flexible, gorgeous to watch. He raised his shirt a little bit, just up to his stomach, but didn’t take it off. “Ah, I see. What a beautiful surprise you have there, baby boy. Thank you.” His little hole was stretched around the plug Tony had bought for him, a slick, black one, with jewels encrusted on the handle, now sticking out of him. It wasn’t too big or thick, he liked him to be tight, after all. “Did my prince come while putting this in?”

“Yes, sir… Twice,” He was already panting and Tony hadn’t even touched him where it mattered yet. He smirked and clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

“I’m so sorry, you must have been really starved for cock, right? Daddy haven’t been feeding you properly. We’re gonna correct this now.” He held the end of the plug and pushed it in a little more, moved it around a bit, only to hear his boy gasp when it brushed his sweet spot. Then he slowly started pulling it out, watching in amazement as his rim stretched to allow the thickest part of the toy to come out. Once it was completely out, his hole gaped for a few seconds, before clenching furiously around nothing.

The kneeling position was hard on his knees, but his prince deserved nothing less, so stayed there and leaned in, licking the wet, quivering hole, eliciting a desperate moan from Peter, as he held his own knees in an attempt to keep his legs spread open. Tony gripped his thin waist, fingers digging into his soft flesh, hard enough to leave marks, and tried to fuck his tongue inside him. Since it was already a little loose from the toy, it gave in and he was able to lick inside him, and the boy cried out in pleasure, rocking his hips against his mouth.

“Oh, I missed this, Tony… I missed this…” He mumbled, arching his back, and the older man kept going, tongue buried inside his hole, fucking and licking it, biting his ass cheeks carefully when the young man tried to close his thighs around his head. He tasted delicious and smelled amazing. Tony made his way up to his ball as he pressed two fingers into his hole. They went in with barely any resistance as the boy moaned desperately when Tony sucked his balls into his mouth.

Peter writhed on the chair, hands buried in the older man’s hair, trying to pull him closer, small whimpers leaving his mouth every time the man’s fingers brushed his prostate. Tony licked his way back to his hole, as he tried to fuck it with both his tongue and fingers, until he could see Peter was way too close to the edge.

He got up from the floor and undid his pants. As soon as his cock sprung free, Peter launched himself at it, grabbing it with one hand and sucking the head into his mouth, like a starving man. Tony’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he groaned, burying his fingers in his wild curls and tugging just a little, enough to prevent him from deep-throating his cock – he probably wouldn’t last long if he did, sometimes he thought he might come just from rimming him.

He held his head with both hands, setting a steady pace, and Peter obeyed happily. He licked the tip of his cock, kissed it gently, then went back to sucking as one of his hands came up to play with the older man’s heavy balls – he hadn’t come in days. He took a deep breath and allowed his boy to have his fun for a while, but then pushed him gently and lifted him from the chair, taking a seat himself.

“Come sit on your throne, my prince.” He grinned devilishly, and Peter didn’t even blink an as he placed a knee on each side of Tony’s thighs, reaching behind himself to guide his cock inside.

“Oh, fuck,” He cried, as he sank down onto his cock, mouth hanging open, head thrown back in ecstasy. Tony watched, mesmerized, as the boy took him in slowly, inch by inch, until his cock was completely sheathed inside his tight heat. Peter’s inner walls massaged him as his little hole fluttered, trying to adjust to his girth, and he made little sounds of pain and pleasure.

“You’re perfect, baby, perfect for me,” Tony held his face by the cheeks and brought him closer, licking his lips open to kiss him messily and hungrily. He’d missed him, too, his soft skin, his high-pitched voice, his tiny hands stroking his face, the bouncy, sweet-smelling curls. Peter truly belonged in another world, and although he should feel completely out of place in Tony’s arms, nothing ever felt so right in his life.

The younger man started moving after a few seconds, whimpering against Tony’s lips as he rocked his hips back and forth, up and down. His hands clutched the back of the chair as he bounced on the older man’s cock, following the pace set by Tony’s hands on his hips. The older man slapped his ass once, twice, only to see the boy coming undone, biting his lips and trying to stop himself from screaming.

“Let me hear you, baby,” he grunted, fucking up into him as he bit the younger man’s lips, holding his neck with a hand. When he slapped him a third time, Peter couldn’t hold it in anymore, he screamed the older man’s name as he came with a blinding force, arching his back and gripping his shoulders. If the sight of Peter out of his mind with pleasure wasn’t enough to push him over the edge, the way he clenched his hole on his cock would do it. The older man followed suit, as he grunted against the boy’s neck, leaving marks on his skin.

Peter went limp in his arms, completely relaxed and safe, arms wrapped around his shoulders as Tony held him close, protectively. If it were up to him, Peter would never leave the penthouse, he’d quit his job, and school, and be right there where Tony could look after him. But of course he was a feisty little one, so it wasn’t up to Tony.

“Have you eaten, little one?” He whispered, placing soft kisses on his shoulders and neck, and the boy shuddered.

“No, I was waiting for you.” He whispered back, snuggling further into his arms. “But now I’m sleepy.”

“Poor baby.” He placed a kiss on his temple. “Why don’t you take a nap while I cook you some Bucatini Carbonara, huh? Isn’t that your favorite?”

“No, I’ll cook, you always cook for me,” he mumbled against his neck and Tony could barely understand what he said.

“But you’re sleepy, baby. Besides, you’re a terrible cook on a good day.” Tony chuckled, feeling the boy laughing against his chest.

“Fine, I’ll help, then,” he compromised, pecking his lips.

“Sounds great.”

Peter carefully lifted off of his cock, then stepped out of the chair, hurrying to the bathroom. Tony watched, heart clenching, as his boy walked away. He squeezed his eyes shut for a minute, trying to rein in the feeling of dread that overtook him as he imagined Peter in danger, held captive by someone like him, someone as cruel and heartless as him, someone who would torture him, make him suffer, just to get to Tony. He opened his eyes wide, feeling helpless, as he realized there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to protect him. He’d give away his entire kingdom, he’d give his own life in exchange for his.

Peter came back to the living room, still wearing his old t-shirt, a huge grin on his face as he rambled about school. Tony smiled to himself. He was worth it.