#do not worry i am not being bodily shoved around or choked by strangers. but i do remember the double armbar | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

peterparkerstarker · 4 years

Text

Aimless Fools - pt. 2

Part 1

TW/CW: Starker, murder, serial killer/vigilante Peter, blood, throat slitting, dying from illness Tony, intense PTSD, suicidal ideation/attempt, strangers trying to coerce/take advantage of Peter, Peter pretending to be underage, barely legal Peter, pedophilia (which is made clear to be wrong/bad!), noncon, abusive power dynamics, hitchhiking, drug/alcohol use/abuse, choking on cock, gagging on cock, blowjob, bodily fluids (cum and saliva) DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!

--------------------

He was just about to give in for the night, it was 4:23 am and he’d hardly had any passersby. An elderly couple coming back from a road trip tried to talk him into accepting a ride. The mom line went swimmingly, just the right amount of reassurance that he was a good kid who would be picked up post-haste by his loving and concerned parental figure.

God, if only they knew.

He was about to pack in for the night, call an uber and sleep off his disappointment, when a red sports car pulled up, a smooth stop that meant business. And the man inside had just the same air of confidence as his ride.

Sleek suit, gelled hair, teeth that were too shiny and straight. Fake. The perfect LA business man, all shine and no substance.

Perfection.

Peter put on his most demure expression, exaggerating the shivers in his body as he slowly, cautiously approached the car. After all, he was a nice boy, lost and scared and alone, for all this man knew. Peter knew he was buying it hook line and sinker by the way the man’s teeth glimmered shark-like in the glow of his car’s dashboard.

Jackpot.

After a brief exchange, Peter climbed into the car, making sure to keep up the doe-eyed appearance. All “Wow mister, this sure is a nice car, what do you do? You must be pretty important and powerful to afford such nice things. I’d do anything to have such a pretty car like this…” It was so passe, but it worked every time.

Every fucking time.

Really, he felt like laughing at how easy it was to play these idiots. With their overpowering Clive Christian cologne and Bulgari watches. It was all about brand recognition with these tools. A little batting of his eyes, a chaste lip bite, and an overly friendly brush of his hand and they’d be eating out his palm, thinking it was just the opposite.

It worked every fucking time.

“So tell me kid, what’s a poor thing like you doing out so late on a cold night? Aren’t your parents worried sick?” The man put on a false show of concern, but Peter could’ve sensed it from a mile away. He knew the man was actually staring at the exposed skin of his creamy pale legs, and shifted a little in the plush leather seat, letting his shorts ride up even higher.

“Nope,” he let the word pop on his tongue. They loved that, it always made them think of other things his tongue could be doing. “Just me out here, trying to make it on my own, but it’s hard you know… I’d been out there for hours, not knowing which way was home. I’m so happy you came along to rescue me. I just wish I could pay you back... Somehow.”

A sharp inhale of breath from Mr tall dark and dumbass in the next seat over, and Peter knew he’d made a good catch tonight. This would be easy pickings.

He shifted again, letting out a breathy sigh and toying with the hem of his shirt. Another doe-eyed glance. Another pop of his lips. Like clockwork.

The man cleared his throat, and asked, “And how old did you say you were, kid?”

“I didn’t… I’m 16, but I’m about to turn 17! My name’s Peter by the way,” he answered cheerily, the voice of naivete, someone who didn’t know better than to get into cars with rich strangers in the dead of night.

“Almost legal…” the man muttered.

“What?” Peter asked breathily, but the man dismissed it.

“Never mind, I was just talking to myself.”

The car began to slow, pulling to the side of the road. Peter’s heart pounded, this was the good part. The part just before the guy realized who really held the power in this scenario. It always made him a little more excited than he was willing to admit to himself. This is when the fun really started.

“Wh-why’d we pull over?” Rising concern but not panic in his words, this part was crucial. His tone of voice mattered so much in this moment.

“Well, Peter, I was thinking of a way you could repay me, that is, if you really wanted to. I am going pretty far out of my way to get you back home safe…” The man trailed off casually.

“What’s that?” he asked, leaning in closer to inhale the heady cologne.

“Just a little favor between friends…” The man glanced down expectantly at the zipper of his pants, and slowly began to undo them.

“Oh… oh! I uhm… I want to… I mean, how could I not? Look at you, you must work out everyday for a body like that. But I, ah. I don’t… I’ve never… I mean…” Peter trailed off, forcing a blush to rise to his cheeks, looking down as if ashamed.

“That’s okay Pete, I can show you how I like it. It’s easy once you get started.” He said, a pushiness rising in his voice, like Peter better get started soon.

Peter nodded furiously, made a show of gulping back a breath, and slowly took the man into his shaking hands. He’d gotten really good over the past year at playing scared and excited and innocent all at once. Oscar worthy, he thought to himself.

He looked up, eyes wide and lips wet and parted, before the man started shoving Peter's face down onto his cock. It was okay, as far as cocks go. A nice length, nothing remarkable besides a slight bend to the right. Nothing to write home about, but it would do.

He let out a gagging noise. Faked of course. He’d trained himself early on to control that reflex, but the guys went wild over the sound and feeling of his throat constricting and choking on their mediocre cocks. Anything to stroke their egos as he stroked them.

He kept it slow and experimental at first. After all, he had to stay in character. Had to play the ingenue being ravished in the front seat of an obscenely expensive sports car. It was all part of the plan.

Slowly he let himself relax into it, letting his tongue circle the head, growing more confident, more assured. The man kept shoving Peter's head down on his cock, forcing himself deep into his throat. They all did this, all wanted to believe they were god’s gift to receiving blowjobs. He rolled his eyes and let out yet another loud choking groan, and the man moaned, gripping Peter's hair even tighter, hands sweaty and firm.

They kept at this for a few more moments, before the man suddenly came, spurting and gushing hot sticky cum into his mouth, filling him with the stuff. And Peter let it dribble back onto the man’s cock, his saliva oozing down just as much as the hot wet cum.

He released his mouth from the now quickly shrinking cock, and looked up, pupils blown wide and mouth dripping wet, and kissed the man, gripping tight onto his chest, and then around his neck. The man squirmed a little, whether at the force of Peter's grip or the cum-soaked kiss, Peter didn’t know, and frankly didn’t care.

It was at the exact moment that the man tried to push him away that he pulled out the razor blade hidden in the hem of his too-short shorts, and slit the man’s throat, blood spurting hot and wet and salty all over Peter and the interior of the car.

As much as he’d hated it in the beginning, he’d grown to like the coppery taste as it hit his lips. It was a nice reminder of why he did this.

One less creep in the world, taking advantage of helpless kids. He was doing the world a service, he reminded himself, as he got out to shove the man into the passenger seat and got in to drive the car. He was making the world a safer place for good people.

And as he drove off into the night, a long, quiet drive to the secluded cliff spot where he left all his victims, he smiled softly to himself.

A man needs to have a plan, and he was certainly not an aimless fool.

He pocketed the wrist watch before putting the car in drive and giving it a push to crash off the dark cliffside and down into the rocks and water below. It would be weeks, maybe months before the evidence was found, and by that point any DNA of Peter’s would be stripped away by the water and the fish feasting on this new present.

He cleaned himself off with a cloth, tossing it down into the water beneath, and walked down the hill, a long and peaceful walk back to his humble one bedroom apartment, a job well done on a cold morning.

He was making the world a little better, one less sexual predator at a time.

-------

stay tuned for the next chapter!

#starker #My writing #My fic #cw #tw

15 notes · View notes