#starker fandom

[pretty-bratty]

I'm downright screaming, it was so perfect!!!❤️‍🔥🔥❤️‍🔥 glaring at the fruit bowl lmaaooo🤣daddyish tone❤️‍🔥 obsessed with this chapter, the best.

Peter gets drunk at a party - part 2

Part 1 here

..

Peter woke up the next morning feeling like utter shit. His head was pounding and his mouth was extremely dry. He also wasn’t in his own bed, which was alarming. He sat up as quickly as his hangover would allow, scanning the room, trying to remember where he was and how he got there. It took only moments for him to gather he was at Mr Stark’s place, in the spare room he’d longed to stay in for months now. There was also a large glass of water and some aspirin on his bedside table, which told Peter that Mr Stark must have brought him here last night.

Last night, last night… there had been a party. He’d been drinking. Then it was a blur. What had happened? He felt a sudden panic when he realised that Aunt May must be pulling her hair out with worry. He quickly took the aspirin and finished his glass of water before grabbing his phone which Mr Stark had kindly put on charge for him on the bedside table. He opened his messages. Aunt May was right at the top.

Peter felt a wave of relief wash over him when he saw that he’d messaged Aunt May last night saying he’d be staying at Ned’s place and May had replied in a very calm, non-suspicious way. He definitely didn’t remember typing that message but he’s thankful he did, in his drunken state.

He was about to put his phone away when he glanced at his chat with Mr Stark. He’d been messaging him last night. He was wary to open the messages, but he forced himself to. He needed to know more context about last night.

As his eyes scanned over the messages he became more and more horrified at what he’d said. Daddy? I love you?

Peter tossed his phone onto the bed next to him, feeling nauseous. Mr Stark had said ‘when you’re sober we’ll have a discussion about this “daddy” thing’. Well, Peter was sober now. Painfully so. And he did not want to discuss this “daddy” thing. But he was stuck in Mr Stark’s spare room. Sure, he could escape through the window but somehow that would be worse. He’d have to explain why he made a sneaky escape. No, he had to face Mr Stark. Today. Now.

As if on cue, the bedroom door opened. Peter didn't have time to lie back down and pretend to be asleep. Instead, he sat, staring sheepishly at Mr Stark, who was standing in the doorway holding a tray of food.

"Good morning," Mr Stark said, stepping inside the room and placing the tray down on the bed next to Peter. "I made you breakfast. Eggs, toast, pancakes, waffles, cereal, fruit... hey, I didn't know what you like for breakfast so I made everything. You hungry?"

Peter stared down at the food and then up at Mr Stark, face red. He wasn't planning on bringing up the messages unless Mr Stark did first. "Thanks. Yeah, I'm- I'm hungry. Thank you, Mr Stark."

Mr Stark smiled. "No problem." Peter noticed him glancing at the empty glass on the bedside table before speaking again. "How are you feeling, Kid?"

Peter let out a shaky laugh as he started eating. "Uh, pretty bad. Thanks for the aspirin and the water and the... the bed. I must have been pretty out of it because I don't even remember getting here."

"To be fair, you were asleep during the drive here," Mr Stark said. "After that, I carried you inside bridal style."

Peter felt his face redden even more and he started shovelling food into his mouth to distract himself and to give himself an excuse not to respond to that comment.

"I'll leave you to eat your breakfast. When you're ready, we'll talk, okay?" Mr Stark said, getting up and heading for the bedroom door. Peter nodded his head quickly as Mr Stark left the room, feeling dread in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't hungry anymore. In fact, he felt like he would throw up if he ate any more.

We'll talk.

Talk about what? The "daddy" thing? Peter desperately hoped that Mr Stark would take pity on him and not bring it up, but he doubted that would happen.

After a very long ten minutes of fear and apprehension, Peter got out of bed, carrying the tray with him. He walked out of the room and headed to the kitchen to dispose of his leftovers, where he found Mr Stark sitting, drinking coffee from a large mug. Mr Stark looked up when Peter entered, gesturing for Peter to sit down opposite him at the breakfast bar.

Peter put the tray down by the sink and sat down, almost robotically. To say he was terrified was an understatement.

"So," Mr Stark said. "The "daddy" thing."

Shit, Peter thought. He really just came out and said it.

"Hm?" Peter mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

"Tell me about it."

"Tell you about what?" Peter said, trying his best to sound like he genuinely had no idea what Mr Stark was talking about.

"Don't act so innocent, Kid," Mr Stark said. "You can look back at the text messages you sent me last night if you need to jog your memory, but I know full well you know what I'm talking about."

Peter knew he was bright red with shame and embarrassment. He still refused to make eye contact with Mr Stark, when he spoke in a quiet, mortified voice. "Why are you making us talk about it?"

"Punishment."

"Punishment?"

"For the underage drinking."

"It's not your place to punish me for underage drinking, dad," Peter said, feeling annoyed.

"I think you mean daddy."

Peter let out an embarrassed whine and folded his arms, staring - no, glaring - at the fruit bowl next to him.

"What do you remember from last night?" Mr Stark asked, his tone softer than before.

"Nothing."

"Nothing at all?"

Peter sighed. "I remember going to the party, drinking... then it's a blur. Next thing I know, I'm waking up in your guest room."

"Would you like me to fill you in?"

"Yes. I mean no. I mean... yes? Actually, no. I don't want to know. Don't tell me."

Mr Stark snorted. "I'm telling you. More punishment."

"GOD, Mr Stark, don't," Peter groaned. Mr Stark however, appeared to completely ignore Peter's request.

"So after your very interesting and enlightening texts where you called me "daddy" multiple times and told me you loved me, I turned up at the party to pick you up-"

"-The short version, Mr Stark. I beg you. Keep it short."

"Fine," Mr Stark said. "I found you. You were crying about how much you loved me and how "hot" I am and how you want me in you-"

"-OH MY GOD, STOP!"

Peter felt like he would die of embarrassment. He decided in that moment that he'd never drink again.

"Then you called me hot again," Mr Stark continued.

"Great."

"You told me my beard would feel good against your thighs."

Peter groaned again. His cheeks felt like they were on fire. "Okay please stop. I'm begging."

"I'm almost done," Mr Stark said, speaking annoyingly calmly as if he wasn't totally humiliating Peter. "You then thought I... how did you put it? That I "fucked" you. You asked me if I really had. You must have hallucinated me fucking you or something."

Peter tried to ignore how hot it sounded hearing Mr Stark talking about fucking him. He just continued glaring at the fruit bowl in embarrassed silence.

"Then you called me "daddy" some more and I helped you to my car and put your seatbelt on and you... well, you... started trying to kiss my neck. I say try because it was more like you were slobbering all over my neck."

"I didn't."

"Oh, you did."

Peter could feel a tingling in his lips at the thought. His lips had been against Mr Stark's neck. He'd have to make a note to never wash his lips again after this.

"Hm. So? I was drunk. Is that all?"

"Then you fell asleep in the back of my car and I brought you here. I sent a message to your aunt on your behalf so she wouldn't worry."

"Right. Thanks. So, can I go now?" Peter asked, getting up quickly and trying to make a quick exit. Mr Stark stood up abruptly and blocked his escape route.

"Not so fast, Kid," Mr Stark said, placing a firm hand on Peter's chest. Peter hated the fact Mr Stark could now feel how fast his heart was beating.

"Look at me," Mr Stark said, voice full of authority. "Peter. Look at me."

How could Peter resist when Mr Stark was asking him in such a daddyish tone? He looked up at Mr Stark, catching his gaze and blushing harder. "I'm looking," Peter responded weakly. He was starting to realise he'd have to talk about this, as much as he didn't want to.

"So," Mr Stark said. "Let's talk."

..

(There will be a part 3)

[pretty-bratty]

Amazing inspo by @spideyslag again

[starkerfucker]

[definitelynottony]

"Look at you dressed in red. My favorite color - It suits you, Petey. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" 

"I…" Peter paused, then restarted - "I finally know the answer." He said matter of fact. 

Mr. Stark's nostrils flared, and a growl formed deep in his throat. He put his glass down and unbuttoned the top of his shirt, getting more comfortable after a long day. "You've had plenty of time to think on it. Three years is a long time to make a man wait, Peter." 

Peter nodded in agreement. It had been a long time, but the young omega needed it. Needed to be sure, and now he was. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting, alpha. But I know now that I do want it. Want you. Want to be yours." 

The man's breath came out harsh on his exhale, and he closed his eyes for a moment. He was proficient in the art of composure. Had to be in his line of work. He took a seat in his large office chair, much like a king on a throne. The power he commanded in such a mundane act was terrifying and hypnotic all at once. "So, show me how much you want to be mine, sweetheart..."

[scholarlystarker]

Untitled Starker fic featuring appearance by Deadpool

Rating: Mature for language and content, rating will go up as the fic continues. Pairing: Tony x Peter (aged up, College student!Peter) Words: 2036 ***

Apparently, it was just going to be that kind of night. 

“This is… humiliating,” Peter whined, his face red hot below the mask. He tipped his head back as far as it could go within the tube created by his own webbing and felt the back of it hit metal. “Ow.”

“Hey don’t even talk to me about humiliation until you’ve been buck ass in Shanghai with at least two grams of— you know what? Story for another time. Where do those Avenger buddies of your stand on extradition bee-tee-dubs? No reason.” Deadpool was animated as ever despite all of his limbs being bound just as tightly as Peter’s currently were. He swiveled his head left and right. “How flame resistant are you? I might have something up my sleeve that could help us out.”

Peter fought back the urge to headbutt his companion just for a moment’s silence so he could think. He wasn’t wearing the fully upgraded suit tonight because the latest edition was back at the lab where he and Tony had been tinkering. 

It hadn’t really needed that holographic field display upgrade but Peter had a running fear that if he ran out of Spidey suits or other projects to throw at Stark, he might somehow lose the older man’s interest.Tony Stark’s attention span was notoriously limited, after all. It had been six whole years now since they started working together, off and on. Peter was no longer the impressive teenage whiz kid. 

Which was good, in a way, because he’d long ago lost that frazzled, starstruck feeling (most of it) and even made friends with most of the team. There was a standing invite for him to be an Avenger (whatever that meant these days) once he was done with college. He’d been on multiple missions, including off world, and Nick Fury once gave him a backhanded compliment that was very close to praise itself. There were contacts in Peter’s phone for Sam, Pepper, Clint, Bruce, and even Tony Stark, himself. Not that all of them would answer if he called or texted about anything more casual than a terrorist attack. Still, it was a pretty impressive roster for a broke-ass kid from Queens. 

Of course, at the moment Peter’s phone was useless to him since it was back home in a dorm with the rest of his secretly real identity. But he could ask Karen to put out some discreet feelers. There was likely an Avenger nearby who could swoop in for a second and cut through the worst of it. 

Peter wiggled again, his lower back suddenly itchy. “I don’t even know how you managed this one, man…” He sighed. 

Deadpool wiggled back, the roll of his hips feeling deliberately suggestive. “I just wanna be close to you, Spidey-buddy… in a ‘why do birds suddenly appear’ kinda way, ya know? Quality time?”

Peter scoffed, letting his eye roll reflect on the mask. “I meant literally how. I had this whole thing set up to catch the guy who has been doing fire escape break ins. And then you… and now this.” He tried one more time to press out against the binding but his own work held too strong, which he accepted with a mixture of pride and disappointment. “So now I’m gonna have to call for help like the… like someone who needs help. Which I don’t. Not usually. And then he’s gonna know I couldn’t. Ugh.”

“He?” Deadpool cocked his head to one side. 

Ignoring the question, Peter muttered some general non-urgent distress keywords for Karen, hoping against hope that maybe Sam or Rhodey was nearby. Hell, he’d take Natasha seeing him like this over…

“Holy shit it's Iron Man!” Deadpool practically vibrated against him in his excitement. 

“Fuck,” Peter muttered, his stomach full of lead. 

Iron Man hovered beside the fire escape where Spider-Man and Deadpool were lashed together by a veritable cocoon of webbing. 

“Do I want to know?” Tony asked, a hint of amusement obvious even over coms. 

Deadpool had no problem jumping in. “Oh you know, just blowing off some steam. Two guys in our tight lil super suits having a lil web-filled fun!”

“I was not having fun, Sir.” Peter interrupted, the embarrassment sinking into his bones as he felt like a schoolboy at the principal’s office. 

Six years of teamwork and lab time, late nights hunched over screens together, eating cold pizza as they vollied ideas the way some folks play table tennis, and Peter still couldn’t get a handle on it. This rush of feeling he got when Tony was around, the deep rooted desire to prove himself worthy of that great esteem. The fear that Tony’s favor had somehow been wrongfully bestowed and one wrong move would be all it took for the genius to finally figure that out. 

Everyone seemed to think that Peter put Tony Stark on a pedestal, all heart eyes and hero worship. While he couldn’t deny the heart eyes — seriously who wouldn’t have them around Tony??— Peter actually knew perfectly well that Tony was a flawed and fallible human. He liked the man so, so much more than the Iron. Or the Stark, for that matter. 

What no one seemed to see, save maybe Bruce (who saw much but said little) was the slippery edge of Peter’s very own pedestal. The one where he toed the line of independent adulthood versus a mentee who still desperately needed his mentor’s guidance and approval. Spider-Man or just… Kid. 

And sometimes he wasn’t sure which would be worse. 

Iron Man separated Deadpool and Peter’s bound bodies from the fire escape and carried them up to the roof where there was more space to stand. 

Meanwhile Deadpool was fussing at Peter. “Tattletale. I know you didn’t mind it that much. Totally felt you getting a lil chub earlier, Spidey. Don’t lie.” He rolled his hips again for emphasis. 

Peter, being a young man with heightened senses, could feel his body wanting to react to the stimulation and there was an unintentional note of stress in his voice as he called out; “Mr. Stark, please hurry?”

As Stark silently sawed through the webbing, both of the other men held still. But that did not stop Deadpool from running his notorious mouth. 

“Okay wait. You call your coworker mister? Or is it more than that? Is this, like, a kink thing? What did I get in the middle of and how do I get into the middle of you two specifically?” Deadpool turned to look at Iron Man as the webbing finally fell away. 

In response, Tony seized Deadpool by the throat, lifting him off his feet like a rag doll and proceeded to dangle him over the edge of the forty floor building. 

Deadpool gagged and struggled, holding onto Stark’s metal arm with both hands so he could breathe. 

“Shit okay. I get it. No more web pranks. Lesson learned. Coulda just spanked me or something. At least made it fun!”

Stark’s hand tightened slightly and he shook Deadpool bodily as Peter ran toward them both with hands out in a placating gesture. 

“Mr…. Tony! It’s okay. He’s not that bad. Really.” 

Stark’s voice was difficult to read this time, devoid of amusement but not exactly angry. It was almost colder than anger, precise and clipped. “He’s a vigilante and a predator. Not really a hardship, here. I heard he doesn’t die but this might put him outta commission for a bit.” 

Deadpool made a sort of noncommittal sound, swinging his legs. “Hey. Hey now  Look vigilante I'll take because it sounds cool. But predator? Pfffbbt. Hardly. Spidey here is a friend. A pal. Maybe with benefits if I get my way, sure! But I’ve never. Y’know.”

“I’ve seen the footage, Deadpool. You cornering him. Rubbing up against him. And tonight’s stunt? No. You need to learn some fucking manners. Boundaries.”

Footage? Peter paused, his mouth falling open. Hadn’t they turned off all of the cams except in case of emergency? 

“Wow. Boundaries. Iron Man in therapy or what?” Deadpool shot back, he gave Tony a long flat look. “Cause I don’t think it’s working.”

Taking a step sideways, Peter put a hand on Tony’s shoulder. On Iron Man’s shoulder. “Tony. Put him down. I can handle it from here.”

Deadpool looked down, his mask seeming to grimace. “You know, it’s not the fall that kills you. It’s the splatting organs all over the ground. Which won’t kill me either. Probably. But it will hurt like a bitch. So, I’d really appreciate it if you listen to the Spider?”

Tony’s head turned and Peter wished they could look at one another eye to eye but it wasn’t worth risking his identity. After another silence, Deadpool was hauled back in and dropped unceremoniously onto the rooftop. He scrambled to his feet, brushing dust from his suit and complaining under his breath about bruises that were not ‘earned either of the fun ways.’ 

Iron Man was aloft once more, staring down at Peter in a way that implied he had more to say but he glanced at Deadpool and took off. 

Deadpool made a rude noise and flipped the bird at Tony’s receding back. “Y’know Spidey you coulda saved a guy a lotta trouble if just mentioned that your boyfriend was A. Iron Man and B. The Most Possessive Guy Ever. And maybe C. Goddamn Fucking Iron Man?!?”

Peter shook his head, cleaning up the webbing and dissolving it neatly now that he could access his tools. “Not my boyfriend.” He straightened and looked at Deadpool. “Which is not an invitation for you to keep dry humping me by the way. He was right about the boundaries thing. I mean. Don’t most people at least start with dinner and a movie or something?”

Deadpool touched his forefinger to approximately his mouth area. “Yeah I’m not gonna risk asking out Iron Man’s boyfriend.” He put his hand up, palm out to pause Peter’s reply. “Call it whatever you want but I’ve been dangled over a few roofs before and that guy was seriously considering dropping me.”

“He doesn’t see me like that,” Peter insisted, stubbornly pushing down that childish bubble of hope that arose whenever someone made this mistake. 

It had happened a few times in the last few years; people suggesting their relationship might be… more. Especially now that Peter was starting to look a bit less like a fresh faced kid, had the shoulders to fill out a real tailored suit. And yeah, he and Tony had their silly inside jokes, their movie nights (no longer weekly but at least once a month) and sometimes traveled to scientific conferences together. 

But Tony had been single since he and Pepper called it a final quits about a year and a half ago and he never once made a move. Peter was around more than probably any of the Avengers, since he’d stayed local for college. He spent enough nights at Stark Towers to have his own room, with changes of socks, underwear, and gym clothes. If Tony was going to hit on him, surely he’d have done it any of the countless nights they’d spent falling asleep on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn between them. Or over those sleepy mornings when everyone else was out and Peter and Tony sipped coffee at the breakfast island in comfortable silence. 

Just picturing it now made Peter ache a little inside. It was a foolish kind of self inflicted torture, really, to keep letting himself fall into moments of quiet domesticity with the man he… was very much not dating. 

Taking a full, deep breath and exhaling it slowly, Peter sat down on the ledge of the rooftop. “I need to go. You owe me some bad guys for making me miss the break-ins tonight.”

“Oh them? Please. I know where they fence the stuff. I’ll have ‘em tied up in a pretty lil bow for ya by the end of the week. So long as you tell your…Iron Man to lay off me?”

Peter nodded, absentmindedly. “Deal.” He shot his web and took off in the direction of Stark Tower.

[neoreader0805]

Another prompt outplaced:

After two years of being married to Peter, Tony's body started to deteriorate from palladium poisoning, and now his days are numbered to the grief of all his loved ones, especially his husband himself. And after weeks and months of looking for all types of medicine available, no cure was found. Tony died at age 49 and Peter was declared as SI's successor.

The general public firmly believed that Peter was responsible for Tony's death, fueling claims that Peter had only pursued Tony for the company's assets. However, as the years went by, Peter raised SI to new heights through his brilliance and earned the respect of all its employees. Despite his success, skepticism about his original intentions lingers, and the media continues to speculate regarding his husband’s death.

Except Tony has been chilling inside a cryo for 10 years by his husband's order.

Peter, grieving since Tony's body started to fail, has tried to create a cure for Tony himself. But time was not on his side, and he was not able to finish it on time. After everyone said their goodbyes, Peter secretly took his husband's body (with the help of FRIDAY), put it in the cryo, and bid his time to create a cure that can treat all illnesses. And after 10 years of juggling his duties to the company and reviving his husband, Peter finally did it. The sight of THE Tony Stark walking among the living again left every one scrambling. When the whole story was revealed, people were perplexed by the lengths Peter went to in order to bring his husband back.

Now we got a hotter more matured Peter in his 30s and a really fit Daddy Tony in his 50s, they are both superpowered and will live a long, long, happy lives. The end.

TLDR:

Peter created extremis to bring back his husband to life after being frozen in cryo for a decade

p.s. I want the angst and mad scientist!Peter still being his precious, pure, innocent, fluffy, wholesome self through it all

p.p.s. Oh, and I would like to see a whole press con drama with Peter (after missing Tony for a decade) and Tony (just being his smitten and whipped self) smothering each other with sweet whispers, soul-gazing stares, and affectionate touches in front of a whole bunch of reporters, live-streamed, for the whole world to see the true nature of their marriage.

[veenusboy]

Thought:

A fic about widowed Tony going to visit the grave of his recently departed wife late at night while on a booze binge only to find a nearby grave completely dug up and coffin opened in such a bizarre way. He hears growling behind him and stumbles upon Ghoul!Peter feasting on the corpse he was tearing apart.

He yelps and falls backward, crawling away from the sight only for Peter to gain on him in inhuman speed and on all fours which is really creepy, with dried blood on those small pink lips that revealed enlongated sharp teeth and a shrill shriek leaving Peter's throat. Tony is pretty sure this is how it all ends, the great Iron Man done in by a fucking MONSTER he thought only existed in story books and movies.

But wait?? Peter is sniffing him?? Giving his face a lick with a weirdly LONGG tongue from scalp to chin only for the boy to scuttle off into the night without hurting or taking a chomp out of him?? What the fuck??

Later on that week and after many long nights trying to decide if he was crazy or not he attends a college tour happening at his tower and aims to put on a nice presence for the students only to find THE SAID BOY among the bunch? Not full monster mode, hair glistening a soft brown in the windows rays and emitting a laugh that made Tony's belly feel tingly and heart skipping.

What was going on??

AKA: Ghoul!Peter being taken in by Tony and Tony finding out what the term 'monster fucker' REALLY means

Yes, this WILL be written

[rainghosted]

Tony decided to facetime his sleepy husband during his boring board meeting

Tony: Hey baby, How's your beauty sleep?

Peter: *hangs up*

Tony: ...

[theonestarker]

Starker Discord Server

Hello! I made a post about a week ago searching for an active Starker DC server, but found none (update: there is actually another one! Super Starkers. I think you can find it on disboard). To fix that, we created a Starker discord server, Starker Haven, with several channels, bots, roles, etc.

There is a verification process, but please don't be scared off by it, it's merely reading the rules and answering a few questions. (No ID is required at all, but proof of not being an antishipper is.)

We are an 18+ server (no minors), and strictly proship.

We'd absolutely love for other people to join, so for more people to see this, if you could reblog this post, it would be really appreciated <3

Here is the link of the server, and thank you so much to anyone who will join and reblog this!

[yanderejustforyou]

The Nightmares of Iron

Summary:

"Tony, it’s okay," Peter said, his voice soft but urgent, as he reached out to shake Tony’s shoulder gently. "You’re safe. I’m here."

The night was unusually quiet at the Avengers Tower, the usual hum of activity stilled. Peter Parker had stayed late in the lab, tinkering with a few gadgets. He was trying to distract himself, but his mind kept drifting back to the same thought: Tony Stark.

Peter had always admired Tony, but lately, his feelings had transformed into something more intense. The more time he spent around the older man, the more he craved Tony's attention and approval. It was no longer just admiration; it was something deeper and more obsessive, and Peter struggled to control these emotions.

As Peter worked on a small project, a strange sound cut through the silence—Tony’s voice, muffled but unmistakable. "No... no, please... stop..." Tony’s words were low, pained, drifting through the walls from his private quarters. Peter’s heart skipped a beat. Without thinking, he stood up from his workbench and moved toward Tony’s room. He hesitated for a moment before gently knocking on the door.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter’s voice trembled slightly, the oppressive silence wrapping around him like a heavy blanket. “Tony? Are you alright in there?”

A muffled voice broke through the silence, louder this time and filled with desperation. "No... no, please... not again..."

A knot formed in Peter’s stomach, an uneasy blend of concern and a darker, more unsettling feeling that he couldn't quite identify. With a shaky breath, he pushed the door open, stepping into the dimly lit room. The sight that met him was disturbing, sending chills down his spine as he took in the scene before him.

Tony was thrashing in his bed, covered in sweat, his face twisted in pain. The blankets were tangled around him, and his body jerked as if trying to escape an unseen threat. His eyes were closed, but his expression was full of terror. He was trapped in a nightmare, reliving some horrific memory or vision.

“Tony,” Peter whispered, his voice trembling. He couldn’t bear to see the man like this—so vulnerable, so broken. The urge to comfort and protect him surged in Peter’s chest. He moved closer, sitting at the edge of Tony’s bed. 

"Tony, it’s okay," Peter said, his voice soft yet urgent, as he gently shook Tony’s shoulder. "You’re safe. I’m here."

Tony's eyes shot open, wide with a raw panic that consumed him, his chest rising and falling with erratic, uneven breaths. The dim light of the room flickered as his gaze finally locked onto Peter, revealing a fleeting moment of recognition amidst the chaos. Yet, that recognition was overshadowed by a deep, haunting fear that reflected in his wide eyes.

“Peter?” His voice cracked under the weight of emotion, strained and desperate as he struggled to push himself upright. The terror etched on his features was palpable, but it was accompanied by something equally distressing—a profound, aching exhaustion that seemed to seep into his very bones.

Before Peter could muster a response or offer comfort, Tony's hand shot out with a fierce urgency, gripping Peter's wrist with an unexpected intensity. The tremor in his grip betrayed the depth of his panic. “Please… don’t let it happen again,” Tony pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper, hoarse and filled with anguish. “I can’t—” He trailed off, the unspoken fear hanging heavy in the air between them, a weight that threatened to crush them both.

Peter’s heart thundered in his chest. The desperation in Tony’s voice, the way his hand gripped him, sent a thrill through Peter’s veins. He wasn’t sure if it was pity or something else that made him want to reach out and hold Tony—comfort him—but the intensity of it all consumed him.

“It’s okay,” Peter repeated, though his voice wavered. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Tony. I won’t leave.” Peter moved closer, his breath shaky, as he gently pried Tony’s hand off his wrist and took it in his own. The warmth of Tony’s skin sent a jolt through him. For a moment, he simply held Tony’s hand, unsure of what to do next. He could feel Tony’s pulse, fast and uneven, matching his own rapid heartbeat.

Tony leaned back against the headboard, breathing heavily. His eyes were wide and unblinking, but his gaze lingered on Peter, the fear still apparent. “I... I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending everything’s okay,” Tony admitted, his voice soft but strained. "The nightmares... they never stop."

Peter felt a strange sense of satisfaction as he noticed how much Tony seemed to depend on him, even if he didn't completely understand why. This moment of vulnerability was something Peter had longed for, even if he hadn’t realized it before. He wanted to be the one to save Tony—to be the one Tony relied on. He wanted to be the person who made everything right.

“I’ll be here for you,” Peter said softly, leaning forward to press his forehead against Tony’s. Their faces were so close that Peter could feel the warmth radiating from Tony’s skin. “I’ll always be here.”

Tony’s eyes fluttered, and for a moment, Peter thought he might pull away. But Tony didn’t. Instead, Tony’s fingers slowly traced the back of Peter’s hand, an unconscious motion that sent a shiver down Peter’s spine.

“You don’t have to do this, Peter,” Tony murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion and something else—something that Peter couldn’t quite place. "You don't know what you're asking for." Peter’s lips twitched into a faint smile. His heart raced, and his thoughts felt clouded. All he wanted was to be close to Tony, to make him need him. To be more than just the kid who idolized him.

“I know exactly what I’m asking for, Tony,” Peter whispered, the words hanging in the air, heavy with meaning. He gently cupped Tony’s face in his hands, the touch lingering longer than necessary. “I’ll stay with you tonight, okay? No nightmares. Just us.”

Tony’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and when they reopened, they held a softness and vulnerability that Peter had never witnessed before. The depth of emotion in Tony’s gaze made Peter’s heart tighten. As Tony leaned into Peter’s gentle touch, a shaky breath escaped his lips, filled with uncertainty. “Okay,” he whispered, the word hanging in the air, fragile and tentative, as if he were testing the weight of it.

Peter didn’t require Tony to offer reassurances. He didn’t need Tony to grasp the full magnitude of what he was feeling or the complexities of their situation. What he needed was for Tony to continue seeking him out, to lean on him like a sturdy pillar in a storm. As long as Tony relied on him, Peter would hold on tightly, ensuring that he was always there to catch him.

As Tony’s breathing slowly steadied, Peter remained at his side, never once considering leaving.

[aimless-alpine]

Thinking so many thoughts rn

[rubypearlbubbles]

Hello!! I’m going to start a write new father x son (incest) starker fic. And i wanted to consult about the prompt. Should it someting that already happened/ happening or should be slow build? You can choose from survey!!

[pretty-bratty]

[starker-4-lyfe]

Nnnnnoooooo I was reading through someone's recommendations for starker fics and I accidently closed the page 😭 quick someone recommend something starker to me please ���

[definitelynottony]

Tony: Get on your knees and pr-

Peter: Oh. I'm not really religious, Mr. Stark.

Tony: Zip it when I'm talking. Get on your knees and prepare to get the worst punishment of your life, kid. Not even your healing factors will keep up with this. *the iron man gauntlet forms over his hand.*

Peter:😳

Their convo when Peter did something dumb and reckless, after Tony specifically told him to stay put when he was out of the country.

[scholarlystarker]

A Starker inspired chat - thanks to @theonestarker for the GenZ input!