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graceful-starker · 2 years

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I Need a Divorce Pt. 4

Summary: Tony knows he needs to change; but can he?

Warnings: mentions of suicide attempt, brutal divorce, mean characters, unhealthy relationships, unhealthy coping mechanisms, POV switches. Also: this is absolutely inaccurate medical and legal stuff. Please look past it 😂

Notes: so it’s literally been over a year since I updated this my b 🥺 but when my old blog was deleted, this is one of the fics I had a pretty long draft for, and now it’s gone forever. But anyway, I can’t stay bitter forever—here’s the next part!

Peter doesn’t look up when the door opens. Nurses come in all the time to check on him and his vitals, on how his heeling is going.

It’s been a little over a month since his attempt, and he’s mostly better. Physically, anyway. And mentally; he’s been moved to a better room. There’s still no sharp objects or any strings, and there’s a camera in his room, and the nurses come in once an hour…but he isn’t chained to the bed anymore. He can move around and use the bathroom when he wants, and he’s allowed books without supervision.

That’s what he was doing when the door opened. He was reading, trying his hardest to ignore the real world and immerse himself in this fictional one.

“Peter?”

Peter freezes at the name, not even daring to breathe. This is it, he’s officially lost his mind. He’s officially crazy. He’s hearing things, imagining things. He’s lost it.

Peter slowly turns his head, knowing his soul will be crushed when his ex-husband isn’t there. But then-

Peter feels his breath hitch, and suddenly he’s nauseous. Because Tony really is there, standing in the doorway and looking at Peter with a shocked expression. “Tony?”

The older man seems to come back to himself, clearing his throat and straightening up. “I um…I paid the nurses to let me in.”

Peter tightens his grip on his book in fear. “Here to finish the job? Because I’m sorry, but it won’t be my fault if you go to jail after.” His voice only breaks a little, and he’s proud of himself for that.

Tony winces at his words, looking down at his shoes. “No, of course not. I’m here to take you home.”

Peter scoffs at that, hands shaking and in turn making the book shake. “Funny. What do you want? Did you come to gloat that I can’t even kill myself right? Just another thing you asked me to do I failed at, right?”

Tony’s shoulders slump, and Peter doesn’t know if it’s guilt or if he’s holding himself back. “I’m serious. I’m taking you home.”

“You can’t,” Peter says, finally closing his book. “What would your girlfriend say, first of all? I bet she-“

“She wasn’t real,” Tony interrupts. “I paid her to hold my hand to make you jealous, there is no girl.”

Peter blinks, taking that in for a moment. “Wow. You’re even more cruel than I thought before.”

Tony looks up, anger in his eyes now. “I’m trying here, okay?! Cut me some slack, you’re so ungrateful!”

Peter winces, shrinking back into his chair. “I don’t owe you a god damn thing,” Peter spits, trying to get his courage back. “You ruined me.”

Tony works his jaw, the fire still in his eyes. But he sighs, rubbing a hand over his face before looking at Peter again. “Please, baby, I’m really trying here. Morgan misses you, you’re making her sad.”

Peter’s eyes widen at the shock of the sheer audacity Tony’s showing. “And who’s fault is that?” He hisses. “You’re the one with full custody, you control who sees her.”

Tony narrows his eyes ever so slightly, before forcing his face into something sort of resembling pleading. “I’m going to change,” he promises. He looks over his shoulder at the sound of clicking heels speeding towards them. “I’m working on myself, baby. I promised Morgan. I’m going to change.”

Peter knows he shouldn’t believe Tony. He knows it. But- “You are?”

Tony nods, ignoring the whispered arguing outside. “I swear, baby. No more working so hard and so long. No more being mean, no more putting myself first. I miss you; I need you, Peter. You’re my everything; you and Morgan. You’re everything. I was just…” he sighs, looking down and Peter thinks he sees a tear fall. “I was just so scared of losing you, that I pushed you away. I tried to make it so you couldn’t leave me, instead of making you want to stay. And I—I’m so sorry, Peter. I was…I was wr…wrong. I was wrong. I’m sorry. Can’t you forgive me, Angel?” He looks back up, eyes red and wet. “Please?”

The door suddenly slams open, and a murderous looking Natasha storms in. “You have some fucking nerve, Stark.”

Tony turns his back on Peter, and the younger man feels like he can finally breathe again. All those pretty words… “they weren’t supposed to let you past.”

Nat scoffs. “As if they could stop me. You have no right to be here.”

“He’s still my husband, for now.”

“Oh, so that’s what this is about!” Natasha laughs, eyes still fire. “I’m about to take away everything you’ve ever had, and now you’re out of options? You’re trying to bully Peter back into submission? Pathetic.”

Peter winces. Oh, yes. Of course. That’s why Tony’s back. Stupid boy, getting hope.

“No!” Tony says back, huffing in annoyance. “I’m being honest. I want Peter back, and I went about it all wrong.”

“You did. And now you’re going to lose everything because of it. You don’t deserve Peter. You deserve nothing.”

Tony’s fists clench, and Peter is suddenly nervous for Natasha. “What would I have to do to prove that I really do just want Peter back? This entire thing was to get him back, I just—I just did it wrong!”

“You’re a god damn narcissist, Tony,” Natasha spits, eyes red. “You only think about yourself, and what you want. What’s good for Tony, not what’s good for Tony and Peter. You are a monster, incapable of putting others first or doing anything that doesn’t lead to a direct reward to you!” She crosses her arms, breath coming quicker in her anger.

“Oh, I’m a narcissist?” He asks coolly, and Peter can practically see the eye narrowing that follows a verbal berating. Tony is, if nothing, consistent. “You’re the one that’s so desperate to make a career for yourself that you checked your client into a looney bin so you can take everything from me, against his wishes!”

Natasha laughs at that, smirk sharp. “You think I need this case? Honey, I made a career for myself long before Peter needed me. I’m not even doing this for the money, I’m doing it pro-bono. Don’t look so shocked, you think he could afford me if I was charging? You kicked him out and left him with nothing. He was living in a god damn studio and surviving off of canned soup; you know, the ones that say “10 cans for $10”? Not to mention you had Potts fire him, so he didn’t have a job anymore. He had nothing but college debt to his name, and you even asked for more from him in the divorce.”

Tony doesn’t say anything, but his shoulders are heaving, likely with the power of his breathing.

“Only a monster would do that, Tony. You deserve nothing. Especially not a second chance. Oh, sorry, more like millionth chance.”

Tony storms past her, knocking shoulders and stomping his way out of the building.

And the spell breaks.

Peter really thought that Tony was willing to change. That he would do his best to be what Peter needed, because he loves Peter.

But no, someone willing to change wouldn’t have left just like that. If he’s being honest with himself, someone wanting to change wouldn’t pay out the nurses to get access to someone they aren’t allowed to see. He should have known better.

“Are you okay, Pete?” Natasha asks, fixing her hair and brushing off her suit.

Peter nods, shakily grabbing his book again. “Yeah. I’m just…I really wanted to go with him. I thought…” Peter chokes on tears. “I thought he meant it, Nat. I thought he would change for me. That he thought I was worth it. That was dumb…”

Natasha hugs Peter, kissing the top of his head. “Not stupid, baby. Hopeful.”

“That god damn bitch!”

Bruce looks up, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. He puts his tumbler down as Tony walks in, and crosses his arms over his desk. “Excuse me?”

“Romanoff!” He screams, slamming the door shut and then kicking it in anger. Bruce raises a brow, unimpressed. “She’s a fucking bitch.”

“Watch it,” Bruce warns, looking back down at his paper work. “What were you doing talking to her in the first place?”

“I went to visit Peter at the hospital he’s staying in-“

Bruce’s head snaps up, and he crinkles the papers he’s holding. “You did not,” he whispers, horrified.

“What?!” Tony asks, defensive. He sits aggressively in the chair in front of Bruce’s desk.

Bruce groans and puts his head in his hands. “You’re a fucking idiot. What is the one fucking thing I told you not to do?!”

Tony is silent until Bruce looks up. At least he has the decency to look smaller. “You told me never to talk to Peter again, after the call Morgan made to him. But this was different, you told me to change-“

“You can’t change!” Bruce yells, standing up so he’s towering over his client. “I’ve been your friend for twenty fucking years, and you don’t change. You don’t change!” He slams a fist on the desk in frustration.

“I-I could if I wanted to! If I had the right reason, Bruce, and I have the right-“

“She was leaving you,” Bruce interrupts. He watches as Tony’s jaw snaps shut. “When she got in the crash. She was taking Morgan and running, because she was scared that you would treat Morgan as badly as you treated her.”

“You’re lying,” Tony whispers, holding onto the armrests tightly. “You’re lying, she wasn’t-“

Bruce sits back down, pulling open a drawer. He’s satisfied that it makes Tony stop. He only needs to search for a moment, before he finds it. “‘Dear Bruce, I regret to inform you that I am leaving Tony and taking Morgan with me. I know you would never-‘ don’t say a god damn word Tony, listen to this. ‘I know you would never represent me over Tony, so I won’t ask you to. The only thing I ask is that you stall Tony until I can find a lawyer myself. I’m going back to California, I won’t tell you where in case he asks, so you won’t have to lie. Hopefully he won’t notice we are gone until it’s too late.’” He tosses the letter at Tony aggressively, watching it hit him in the face before settling in his lap.

Tony stares at it, refusing to touch it though. “No. No, she was going to the store. She told me she was going to the store, and then-“

“Of course she did, she didn’t want you looking for her.” He stands again, going over to a bookshelf and browsing just so he won’t have to look at Tony. “You’ve always been this way. Always been a narcissist, always-“

“That!” Tony yells, standing up and pushing the chair behind him with a scrape. The noise irritates Bruce. “That word. She called me that, Natasha.”

“Because you are one,” Bruce scoffs, and then he freezes. “You are one…” his voice tilts as the realization dawns on him. He turns on his heel, eyes wide. “You are one!”

“Okay, I get it, stop-“

“No, you are one.” Bruce laughs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not just an insult Tony, it’s a personality disorder. You can get diagnosed and treated for it.”

Tony shakes his head, hands up in a confused gesture. “What are you-“

“Tony, don’t you see?” He goes back to his desk, opening another drawer and fingering through the files. “If you can get treated, you can change. It’ll take years, countless therapy sessions, and more work from you than I’ve seen you put into anything in the twenty years I’ve known you—but if I can prove that you—a hah!” He pulls out a file and throws it on the desk, opening it quickly. “I had a client that successfully postponed a divorce because he could prove he had undiagnosed bipolar disorder, which when treated, stopped the symptoms that made his wife want to leave him. She didn’t want the divorce anymore after he was treated, so-“

“Bruce, this is different…” Tony sits back down. “I’m an asshole, but I’m not-“

“I think you are.” Bruce says, looking through the file until he finds the phone number. “I’m calling a psychologist, she can diagnose you. If we can get this diagnosis, we can force the judge to postpone the court date, which means he’ll still legally be your husband. That means you can let Peter adopt Morgan, which is the biggest thing he wants. If you do that, he’s sure to at least try and wait it out, see if you can get any better.” He punches the number into his phone, and holds the phone to his ear.

Tony shakes his head. “I’m not a god damn narcissist! And I don’t want Peter to-“

“Hey Betty, this is Bruce Banner. The very one! Yep, I have another client that needs to see Dr. Pennington. I would like for her to screen for narcissistic personality disorder, but I’ll also take any diagnosis she sees fit. Yup. Wow, really? She’s be willing to do that? Aw, shucks Betty, you’re gonna make me blush. Perfect. I’ll tell him. Yes, the upmost discretion. Perfect. See you then. Bye.” He hangs up, looking at Tony with a smile. “She was on vacation, but she’d be willing to cut it short to spend a few days with you.”

“Days?!” He hisses, standing up again. “No, this is a waste of-“

“Do you want Peter back, or not?” Bruce asks.

Tony stutters, clenching his hands into fists. “What will the press say if I’m diagnosed with personality disorders? I’ll be ruined!”

Bruce rolls his eyes. “Really? That’s what you care about right now? Your image? Tony, you could get everything you ever wanted. Peter back, Morgan happy, no divorce and no losses. The only thing you’ll have to do is actually try to be a good person for once.” He snatches up the letter Tony’s late wife left Bruce, putting it with the other letters she sent him. He isn’t ready to see those.

Tony huffs again, and then throws his hands in the air. “Fine. Whatever. And burn that letter, don’t keep it! What’s wrong with you, what if someone had found it?”

“Found a letter I keep locked in a drawer that’s in an office I’m either in or is locked in a building that you have to have a key card and you have to get past my receptionist to get into? To find a letter nobody knows exists?” He quirks a brow. “The amount of confidential information in this building is enough to put the pentagon to shame, Tony. Anyone found in here without my explicit permission would be in jail for a minimum of 6 months, not to mention black listed from the journal industry for life. No one will get it.”

Tony stands, working his jaw. “Just send a car to my house when it’s time, I’ll pay him.”

Bruce sits, locking the drawers and turning his computer on. “Of course.”

Natasha sighs heavily, putting the rest of Peter’s file away and locking the drawer. It’s been a long day; she’s finally finished putting together enough evidence that Tony was abusive in their marriage to entitle Peter to most of Tony’s things, and put Morgan’s custody up for question.

She groans in annoyance as her phone rings, and picks it up without looking who’s calling. “Romanov.”

“Tasha,” the man starts, and Nat freezes. “Is this a good time?”

“Is it legal related?” She asks carefully.

“Yes. It’s about the Stark case.”

“Then no, it isn’t.” She’s pulling the phone away from her face when she hears Bruce yelling. “What, what do you want?”

“I wanted to let you know, before the judge does, that the court case is postponed.”

Natasha feels ice crawling up her back. “What?”

“Last week, I had Tony see a psychiatrist, along with a few other doctors. You remember the Wilson case I had a few years ago?”

Natasha purses her lips, but doesn’t say anything.

“Well, I did basically the same thing. Signed him up to get diagnosed. I can’t disclose what he has without the judge’s permission, but she’ll tell you Monday anyway. The point is, the case is postponed and so if you want Mr. Stark to lose legal rights to Mr. Parker, I would file for a temporary separation order.”

Natasha doesn’t say anything for a long time. Long enough that she hears Bruce shift to check she hasn’t hung up. Finally, after several minutes, she says “I have this case in the bag, Banner. There’s no disorder you can diagnose Mr. Stark with that will change that.”

Bruce hums, and it’s his turn to be quiet for a moment. Then, “Meet at your place, or mine?”

Natasha clicks her briefcase shut, turning off her computer and making sure everything is locked. “Mine, I need my tools.”

She can practically hear Bruce wince as he thinks of the night he has ahead of himself. “Need me to bring anything?”

Nat walks out of her office, locking it before waving at her receptionist goodnight. She waits to answer until she’s out of the building, and the busy noise of New York will drown her words out to anyone but him. “Coffee. You’re in for a long night, Banner, I have a lot of frustration to take out on you.”

Bruce hums, and she hears a car door shut in the background. “Promise?”

Peter looks up, and then does a double take. “Mr. Banner? What are you-“

Bruce looks over his shoulder, closing the door softly with a click. He limps over to the window, standing in front of Peter but at a distance. “I came because I wanted to talk to you. As a friend, not as a lawyer.”

Peter gestures for Bruce to have a seat, but he puts a hand up in a ‘no thanks’ gesture. He thinks it’s a bit odd, but doesn’t comment. “I didn’t know we were still friends.”

Bruce looks a bit sad at that, but nods slowly. “It’s difficult, with me being a lawyer in your case. There’s not a lot we can talk about that won’t get me in trouble. Which reminds me—do you mind if I record, so I can prove I didn’t talk about the case?”

Peter nods, and watches Bruce take out his phone to record. He blinks. “If you didn’t want to talk about the case, then why are you…here?”

Bruce sighs sadly, putting his phone on the window sill. “I really was your friend, Peter. Before…all of this. I’ve been Tony’s friend a lot longer, but I like you.”

Peter has a hard time trusting that. “Okay…I…I thought we were friends as well. I thought, when you stopped talking to me, that meant it was one sided…”

Bruce looks guilty. “I know. That’s why I…I wanted to come today. I wanted to let you know that I still think we’re friends, or at least I would like to be. Look, I even brought a peace offering.” He holds out the box he had been carrying, and Peter takes it.

Peter opens it carefully, and then gasps. “This is my-“

“Shhh,” Bruce looks over his shoulder at the door again. “You aren’t supposed to have it, technically. But I thought as long as I supervise…”

Peter stands, putting the box in the chair and hugging Bruce tightly. “Thank you, Bruce. Thank you so much. You have no idea—no idea how much this means to me.”

Bruce smiles, hugging Peter back before pulling away and pointing at it. “Well, I have a couple hours until I need to go. Go ahead and get as much as you can done, and then I’ll come back tomorrow.”

Peter beams, sitting down and pulling out his laptop. It had been kept at Tony’s place, since it was bought in his name. But his books were at his apartment, so he must have made two stops at least. “I was only a few months from finishing my thesis. I bet I could set up a board soon, and defend it, and I’ll have my doctorate by the time the divorce is over!”

Bruce beams at Peter, but there’s something in his eye Peter doesn’t like. “I’m glad you’re thinking like that, Pete. We can get you out of here in no time with plans for the future like that.”

Peter blushes a bit, but starts to work on his thesis some more.

As if Natasha would clear me as in my right mind before the case was finished…

#starker #bruce banner #tony stark #peter parker #natasha romanoff #my writing #fanfic #tw: angst #tw: abuse #tw: past character death #tw: mentions of suicide #tw: mental illness

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sandrasoapbox · 11 months

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Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb), Spider-Man (Movies - Raimi) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Peter-Two/Peter-Three (Spider-Man: No Way Home), Peter-Two/Tony Stark (past), Peter Parker/Peter Parker Characters: Peter Parker, Peter-Two (Spider-Man: No Way Home), Peter-Three (Spider-Man: No Way Home), Tony Stark Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, If you don’t like DoubleParker keep scrolling, MCU Peter is Peter-2 and Peter-3's son, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Aged-Up Peter Parker, Tony Stark never forgets a bitch ever, Peter 1 is over 21, I suck at drama, fluff is my wheelhouse, Awkwardness, Happy Ending Summary:

Rich older omega, Tony Stark decided to treat himself with a hot younger alpha, Benjamin Peter “Pete” Parker. Except his childhood house looks familiar…

Based on a Tiktok and the fact that Robert Downey Jr. and Tobey Maguire played lovers twice in past films.

Chapter Two and it is completed! An awkward yet sweet conclusion!

#starker #ironspider #tony x peter #doubleparker #peter 2 x peter 3 #tony x peter 2 (past)#tonypeter #peter2peter3

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bulkhummus · 2 years

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in honor of 10 years of welcome to night vale

[ID: A grayscale WTNV comic. Cecil’s narration floats over panels, bolded here and also placed at the end in a solid paragraph. He is a tall, thin white man with an eye on his forehead and two below his eyes. Cecil looks scared or surprised as he stands against a white background with a narrow black strip behind him. A tapping noise sounds out as Cecil, back now facing the viewer, looks through a thin white strip between a black background. He says, “My existence - is not unlike a tomb.”

Cecil moves forward with an upset expression, indistinct black rising and twisting around him. From the black, the white outline of a three-eyed tall and thin person outlined puts their hands on his shoulders, startling him. Then the black recedes when the Cecil from the Narrow Place collapses onto Cecil, who looks upset. “Every choice I never got to make - resides with me.”

“I lost agency-” A panel of multiple silhouettes--one with two eyes, one with three, and one with five like Cecil’s. Then a low angle looking up at the NVCR radio tower as speech bubbles asks, “Who are you? How did you get here?” Cecil supports the other Cecil through the streets, who is sketchy and clad in dark clothes. Cecil looks up with apprehension at the radio tower as the sick-looking other Cecil clings to him and radiates black. “- The moment I left the womb.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever come to terms-” A series of panels: Cecil and Abby talking with sad, resigned expressions at a dinner table with a third plate set out for their absent mother. A close-up of Cecil’s torso as he holds papers with an intern badge on his shirt. A barn owl looking at the viewer against a black background. A hand clinging from below to a bathroom sink, above which is a broken mirror that has dropped shards into the sink. A case of Cat Ballou held in front of a DVR. A cockroach with “Huntokar” written on it. A hand withdrawing a paper from an envelope that says “Lot 37.” “-With this path-”

Cecil’s hand pushes the door to the recording booth. A view of the booth is shown, and Cecil leads the deteriorating other Cecil in to sit. The other Cecil says, “Carlos. Carlos? Carlos!” as he turns into starker, smudgier black streaks. Cecil looks at him with sorrow and sympathy, then withdraws his hands when the other Cecil disappears when they reach the chair. “That I’ve been forced down.”

“But I do know two things.” A view of the crescent moon shining. Then Cecil unlocks the door to his house, and a frowning Carlos notices a “thunk” from behind him. Carlos is a short, muscular brown man with long hair. He turns on the couch and calls, “Cecil? Is that you?” Cecil strides past him with clenched fists, face not in view, and Carlos stands and asks, “Ceec?”

Carlos peers nervously around a wall as Cecil looks into a dark room with a frown and crossed arms. A dim view of a sleeping Esteban, a young brown child in bed. Cecil’s clenched fist trembles. “I have them-” Carlos puts his hands over his chest, a soft smile on his face, and then moves behind Cecil, shown through their torsos and Carlos’ hand reaching for Cecil. Cecil smiles gratefully as he leans back, and Carlos looks at him with a gentle smile and says, “I’m here if you need me.” “- And they have me.”

The full narration reads: “My existence is not unlike a tomb. Every choice I never got to make resides with me. I lost agency the moment I left the womb. I don’t know if I’ll ever come to terms with this path that I’ve been forced down. But I do know two things. I have them, and they have me.” End ID]

ID lovingly created by: @princess-of-purple-prose

#here it is!!!#so glad i finished it before the 15th :)#so much symbolism packed into this baby #I hope it translates well!!#and i hope everyone is excited for the episode!!!!#Wtnv #welcome to night vale #cecilos #night vale #this is the longest ‘personal’ comic ive ever made hehe #art tag

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noordzee · 1 year

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Ceramic adventures from the past few months! A local potter put on a couple painting workshops where she provided premade cups, bowls, etc and my friend and I were like oh heck yeah

The first time I painted a cup with Dionysus and Hestia chatting. Thanks to the stories where she gave him his throne I like the idea of them as an unlikely favorite auntie and nephew duo. Unfortunately the potter made a mistake when glazing them... you can't see the figures and the underglaze is weirdly pockmarked, making it impossible to even drink from it. Ah well, such is life... someday I'll make the Dionysus+Hestia kylix of my dreams...

The second time around I painted a different opposite duo, Apollo and Artemis. I like to draw Apollo wearing his more feminine accoutrements, it makes the differences between him and his sister Artemis even starker, and that's fun! And this time you can see through the glaze, woo!

Descriptions in the alt text!

#ancient greece #greek mythology #tagamemnon #artists on tumblr #illustration #crafts #ceramics #pottery #hestia #dionysus #apollo #artemis

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madeforstarker · 29 days

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Prompt Fill: Stealing Clothes | Sitting on Lap

🧸 ♡ 》 ~

"WHERE IS YOUR MIT HOODIE DADDY?!"

"They're in the laundry right now, baby love."

Tony looks up from his work when he doesn't hear a reply from his little, the baby boy looked so heartbroken, eyes glassy and lower lips wobbling.

"How am I suppose to live then?" Peter cries out dramatically, stomping his foot on the floor.

Tony couldn't help the soft and amused chuckle that slipped past his lips, he pats his lap, calling out for his little, "how about you sit on daddy's lap while I finish my work and we'll have nuggies and fries later?"

Peter gasps and runs to Tony's lap, almost tripping but Tony caught him in time, the boy looked at him with such excitement, "dino nuggies, dada?"

He smiles at Peter and adjusts the kid on his lap before placing a soft kiss on his baby boy's pout, "dino nuggies and maybe some letter nuggies? Show daddy how to spell your name and Daddy's?"

Peter nods rapidly, "yes yes!", "then I will get your hoodies after they dry, dada?"

Tony chuckles, "you can have all of my clothes, bambino, what's mine is yours because you're my little love."

"And you're my daddy love!"

"I wouldn't have it any other way, baby love."

《 dedicated to my co-kiddo @starker-raving-mads i love youuuu 》 🧸🤎

#starker #tnpt #daddy!tony #little!peter #starker moodboard

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starkerhowlter · 2 months

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Performative Dom

Ship: Starker Rating: E Contains: Language, Blowjobs, collaring, Lingerie, Dom/sub, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Dubious Consent (But corrected by Tony to give Peter the right to consent), Objectification (Not by MCs), BDSM Posing, Collar pulling, Coming Untouched, Daddy Kink, Peter Parker is 18, leashing Initial prompt: @starkerfestivals Valentine's Day exchange prompt 1: Peter is a sub but they won't let him go to college without a Dom sponsor. Tony thinks he's too brilliant for those dumb rules to ruin his life so he takes up the role only to fall in love with how beautiful Peter looks on his knees. Words: 5426 Summary: Peter needs a dom. And the perfect candidate is right in front of him. But what if they fit better together than either of them ever expected?

AKA: Five Times Tony realized this was a mistake, and one time he embraced it.

Gift for: @the-mad-starker

Read Below or on AO3

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY MADS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you so much for this prompt and for giving me the opportunity to write it! I hope you love it and I hope this does your prompt justice! Also I hope you love the bonus moodboard I custom built for you! A number of the images were made just for you ♥♥

Also also, hi Starker fandom! It's been a minute since I've been back! I've been on a "fandom tour of the world" recently and joined 3 fandoms since July. You haven't gotten rid of me yet!

This was edited by one of my fave humans @starkerkitty! Thank you so much, Jacy!! <3

note: any underlined words are links

The entire thing had been a spur-of-the-moment decision.

Peter bursts into the lab seething, and Tony's met with a fire he's never seen in the younger boy's eyes.

Tony's brow furrows as he kicks his feet off the desk, "Peter?"

"I thought we were past this as a society," Peter shouts, dropping the envelope on the desk in front of him. He continues pacing the length of the garage, stepping onto the walls to pace across the ceiling.

"What? Acceptance letters?" Tony smirks, raises an eyebrow and picks up the envelope. He pulls the paper out, reading. "’Dear Peter Parker, you have been accepted to MIT.’" Tony murmurs, "I mean that was expected..." He continues, "blah blah blah... Orientation is on Monday.. blah blah blah... ‘Unfortunately, we can't allow you to enroll in classes until you present a Dom to sponsor your journey with MIT to allow for you to be enrolled and to keep you accounta’-- Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me," he scoffs, tossing the paper on his desk. "They're really holding you from a degree because of *that*?! Just because of the little pink heart on your license?! Maybe I can call my associates, surely they know I'm the one who recommended you. They can't possibly be holding you for anything at all." He scoffs, "I'm going up there. If they want to play this game, we'll play this game."

"Or..." Peter starts, hopping down from on top of one of the server towers.

"Or?" Tony asks, arms crossing over his chest as he looks up at the boy.

"Never mind."

"Peter..."

He sighs, "I have a plan. But you... you have to trust me, Mr. Stark."

-----

"Peter, we can't do this. I mean, I'm all about fucking over tradition, but you do realize they do checks. And not just one. They do them throughout the entirety of your time in the program." Tony stares at the younger man from behind his sunglasses, frowning, "We can't possibly make them believe that I'm your Dom."

Peter's shoulders fall, "You don't want to..."

Tony scoffs, reaching over to clasp a hand over Peter's shoulder, "Now when did I say that? I'm just worried because you're just a kid. I don't want to be preying on you because you're vulnerable."

"You're not. You're just helping me to get into a prestigious university. Speaking of, we need to go get some supplies."

"Supplies?"

Peter shrugs and nods, "Y'know... A collar, whatever outfit you think fits your standards, Mr. Stark. If you feel it's appropriate, you can even pick it."

At the mention of an outfit, Tony's mind fills with images of Peter wrapped in ensembles of his dom's choosing. He considers a suit but settles for something more casual. And Peter in his mind looks stunning.

This is a mistake.

"Oh. We can uh... go tomorrow, deal?"

Peter nods, "Sounds good, thank you, Mr. Stark! Goodnight!" He skips out of the penthouse, leaving Tony alone with less-than-appropriate thoughts about his young mentee.

_____

There are a few times in Tony Stark's life when he knew he is well and truly fucked before the consequences happen.

This is one of those times.

Before him, Peter’s standing on a fitting platform presented for Tony.

"Now, Mr. Stark, what collar are you thinking for your sub? Have they earned a lock? Have they leveled up to a buckle, or is he still in training where they haven't earned more than a snap? As you know, your sub must earn a place beside you."

He allows himself a few deep breaths, glancing at Peter to confirm he's okay with this.

Instead of a nervous disposition, Peter looks almost comfortable. His eyes are glazed, lips parted as he waits for Tony -- his dom-- to decide what he's worth.

"I think he's earned a lock." Peter's chest shudders at the words and Tony smirks, "And let's put my name on it. He should bear my name since he belongs to me."

The worker nods, hanging on to Tony's every word. "Done! Give me just a few minutes to get the collar together for you. We can cut it today and size it so you can walk out with the piece before you leave the mall today!"

"Sounds good. I think my sub and I are going to do a few other errands but we will be back. If you wouldn't mind giving me a call?"

"Sure thing, Mr. Stark. I will start on your piece immediately." The worker takes the black metal card from him, disappearing into the back room to swipe it and get his receipt, but Tony isn't interested in the receipt.

He turns towards Peter, hands resting gently on his arms, "You alright, kid?

Peter nods, mutely, and takes Tony's hand. "Do we need to... show our status while we're in public?"

"It's probably a good idea. What are you comfortable wearing?"

"Whatever you'd like me to wear... daddy?" Peter tacks on the title as an afterthought and Tony fights the urge to react visibly.

"I think that they will believe us more if we put you in a lingerie set and then dress you in a nice outfit on top of it. We can pass it off like I picked the outfit to match your collar, and if you are comfortable, some harnesses latch onto the type of collar I picked for you. But honestly, it's whatever you--"

"Mister Stark? I apologize for the interruption. Here is your card back and your receipt."

"Oh! Thank you!" He takes the card, putting it back in his wallet before taking Peter's hand and leading him out of the shop.

Holding Peter's hand feels far more natural than it should as they walk through the mall. No one gives them a second look, and Tony wonders if they pass as a couple.

"Follow me," Tony states, leading him through the mall toward the lingerie store.

"Mr. Stark..." Peter tries, voice cracking with nervousness, "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. If you aren't, we don't have to do this. But I will tell you from experience, they are going to want proof."

"Okay..."

----

This was a mistake.

Peter's standing in the middle of the store, surrounded by a rainbow of lace and tulle, and staring at Tony with wide brown eyes.

"What is the-- um--" His voice cracks and Tony's heart melts.

This was a mistake.

"How about we start you in a simple lace playsuit? Do you have a favorite color?"

"I... You should pick."

"Alright, deal." Tony approaches one of the racks, sifting through the outfits to pick out a couple of styles in various colors. "What do you think about red?"

"L-like Iron Man red?"

"I mean... If I'm going to be 'owning' you, it'd make sense to have you wearing my colors," he replies, "Just seems appropriate."

Peter nods and follows after him, hands shoved in his hoodie pockets.

"Your clothes are in there," he states, pointing into the third fitting stall, pulling the purple curtain back. "I'll wait for you out here. If you feel comfortable, I'd love to see how you look in the outfits... baby"

Peter's eyes widen at the title, but he steps inside the booth before he can splutter out a reply and begins stripping off his hoodie and jeans, dropping them onto the gaudy cheetah print chair in the corner of the stall.

Tony hadn't held back.

The pieces before him held no semblance of modesty, yet would show off every curve and muscle of his body. One’s black and frilly, another’s pastel silk, and behind them is a hot rod red harness and lace playsuit.

"Holy--" He whispers, running his hand over the black, lace, off-shoulder negligee, pulling it gently off the hanger. The piece weighed next to nothing, but it felt like it'd shatter into a million pieces if he wasn't careful. He lifts it, pulling it over his head and down over his body.

It wasn't a piece of clothing so much as one long-sleeved lace sock, in Peter's opinion. The bottom of the negligee touched just beneath his ass, and the sleeves pulled down over his hands to leave just his fingers bare.

The lace covered nothing. His nipples and boxers were visible through the lace and at that second, he felt very, very exposed.

"M-Mr. Stark?" He ekes out, peeking his head out of the curtain, keeping his body covered.

"Yeah, Peter?"

"How's this look?" Peter pulls back the curtain, revealing his lithe muscular form wrapped in the delicate lace dress.

Oh... Tony fucked up.

The kid - the one he had told himself he wouldn't drool over - was standing before him in a skin-tight lace bodycon dress, and Tony wanted nothing more at that moment than to devour him.

"You look-- The lace and-- and your figure... um..." He clears his throat, "You look good. Can I see the next one?"

"Oh! Of course!" Peter replies, rushing back into the room.

Back in the room, Peter removes the lacy garment and picks up the silky one. It doesn't even make it off the hanger before it's dropped to the floor.

"No on the silk."

"No?" Tony replies from outside the door, "Just don't like the color or...?"

"Texture," Peter replies bluntly, picking it back up to hang it on the hook. "I can't do it."

Tony huffs what sounds like a laugh, "That's alright, sweetheart."

The title slips out, and the younger man blushes as he picks up the next piece.

On the hanger is a lacy bright red harness playsuit. Bands cross along the back and front, over where his midriff would be, and he shivers slightly at the intricacy of the piece. He steps into it, slowly pulling it up over his thighs, hips, and stomach, spreading the lace over his form.

He turns towards the mirror and the sight of himself catches him off guard. Peter's breathing hitches at the sight of Tony's colors, his red, stretched over Peter’s pale skin. His hands ghost down the front, and the feeling causes him to shiver.

"You okay in there, kid?" Tony calls, shattering the moment, "Didn't get tangled did you?"

"Uh... no!" He calls out, turning away from the mirror and towards the curtain. "Did you want to see this one? It's a bit... much isn't it?"

Tony gives an affirmative noise, and Peter pulls open the curtain, revealing himself to him.

"Holy shit..." Tony whispers.

"That bad?"

"Look at you..." He steps forwards, and reaches for his hips, but stops just a few inches shy. "I-- Sorry." Tony inhales and steps back. "You can uh.. get dressed. I'll meet you out front."

He is so fucked.

---

A few days later, Tony's sitting on the couch next to Peter, reading paperwork on his tablet. "Okay, kid, we need a game plan for this Thursday. I mean... how are we planning on convincing them?" He swirls the bourbon in his glass, sipping it slowly. "Are you just thinking you'll sit in my lap or was there something else you thought might work better? What's the move?"

"I figured I'd sit on your lap, um... maybe we can have me wear a button-down shirt so they can see the lingerie and collar you picked? Just... basically... um... what do people usually do?"

'Fuck.' Tony's brain unhelpfully supplies.

"They tend to use less... orthodox methods. Some bring their subs in on leashes or feed them from their hand, make them sit down on the floor at their feet... It really depends. All I know is that when the day comes, I need to know what program you are going into and why so that I can vouch for you. Because as much as I hate it... in that room, you have no voice."

Peter shivers at the implication and nods. "Noted. Would you like me to uh... put on the outfit again so we can practice? I don't think it'd do us well for either of us to be stumbling and shy the day of."

'Oh, fuck, please put the outfit back on...' Tony thinks.

"Good idea. I expect I will wear a usual suit, so there really isn't any need for me to change, right? I mean the entire thing is just a meeting. Nothing major. What's the worst that could happen? I mean, it's just an interview."

-----

This is a mistake.

Whatever they'd planned for, it wasn't this.

"M-Mr. Stark..." Peter whispers, eyes wide as he's led into the room, feeling small in the cavernous space. Their shoes thud against the floor as they walk, and he takes note of many famous art pieces along the walls as they're led to the office.

At the last second, they'd decided on a leash, and now Peter realizes that may have been a mistake. The skinny chain is connected to the D-ring of his collar, and the other end is held by a wrist strap in the same metallic red leather as his collar. The weight of the piece creates a heady feeling at Peter's core and he finds himself thinking of taxes, his grandma... anything to keep the bulge in the front of his pants minimal.

Tony pulls on the chain, leading Peter through the halls, following a woman with a tight black bun who's talking far too fast for Peter to keep up with.

"This school is one of the most prestigious in the country, you're not going to regret sending your sub here. We do offer a few check-in options if you want him to live on campus, but at the end of the day, it's about whatever works for you, Mr. Stark."

He replies with a simple, "As you know, I was a student here when I was younger. I think I want Peter here to have the same experience. Back then, we knew I was going to be marked a dom, just as my father was, and I didn't need any sort of sponsor. I'm not quite sure how this process works." Tony's entire being exudes confidence, and it puts Peter's racing heartbeat at ease. "Do you need to verify my 'status' or is that just understood?"

"I will need to verify your designation when we get to the office, but at this time it's not a major issue." She gives him a tight smile, not sparing Peter a second glance. "Oh, I should remind you, there will be a confirmation test before the meeting begins, will you be needing supplies for it or have you brought your own?"

Tony scoffs dismissively, "What the hell is a 'Confirmation test'? You don't believe that I own my sub? That's ridiculous!"

"I do apologize, Mr. Stark. We've had a recent spike in subs acting as doms to get into college or having others of different designations pretend to be their dom to try and bypass the system. Therefore we've had to implement a check. There will be an agreement signed by all parties present if you're worried about it being leaked."

Peter blanches at the concept, heart racing when he hears that others have tried and failed to do exactly as they are.

"Ah, that makes sense. We won't be needing supplies, my sub here is trained well enough to take it no matter how I give it." He shrugs, "Well then, where should we wait?"

"Just through here," she replies, ignoring the snark in Tony's voice.

He sends her a fake smile, pulling Peter closer to him to wrap his arm around Peter’s shoulders. Peter's racing pulse presses against his wrist. With a whisper, he soothes Peter, "It's okay. I've got you, baby," putting on the facade of a doting dom, much to the woman leading them's approval.

"My dom is the same way when I get nervous," she muses mindlessly, opening a large white door to lead them into the office. "Have a seat over here." She leads him over to one of the plush velvet chairs sitting before a large wood desk, "Your sub can wait by the door."

Tony frowns, "Absolutely not, he stays with me. No questions asked." Unconsciously, his hand tightens around Peter's leash, keeping him close as though someone would steal him away. "He'll sit at my feet."

"If that's what you choose. Mr. Donahue and Mr. Arroyo will be in soon. Would you like any coffee while you wait?"

"I think we're alright. Thank you." She nods, leaving them alone.

"Hey, kid, are you okay?" Tony asks, helping Peter to sit comfortably on his knees by Tony's chair.

Peter nods, shifting slightly to ensure Tony's shirt parts over his chest to reveal the lacy bodice of the lingerie.

He runs his fingers through Peter's hair, "You look good. I don't know what this 'confirmation test' is, but we'll get through it together."

"I trust you. We can do whatever we need to to get through this. I want to go to MIT so bad, Mr. Stark..."

"I know, Peter, and I will do whatever I have to to make it happen. Even if it means lying to the panel at my alma mater." He smirks, ruffling the younger man's hair, "We will get through this... together."

Before long, the large door at the side of the room opens and two men walk inside.

"Good morning, I presume you're Mr. Donahue and Mr. Arroyo?"

"Yes, and is this..." He lifts his clipboard, "Peter Parker?"

At the mention of his name, Peter looks up from his place on the floor.

"Yes. We're here to get Peter set up in the program for biochemistry and chemical engineering."

The two suited men before them snicker, "That's quite the program... Are you sure it's for him?"

Tony frowns, chewing his cheek to keep from mouthing off and blowing it for the younger, "He's actually quite brilliant. But let's be honest, any sub worthy of me would have to be more than just a pretty face."

His words pinken Peter's cheeks, and he blushes, leaning against Tony's leg.

"If you're sure, we can progress to the next part of the meeting. Before that though, I have this sheet of terms and conditions for you to read."

The man on the left hands Tony a sheet of legalese.

It's a basic NDA, nothing he really needs to worry about because he's sure he could break it with a check and some lawyers if needed. Rolling his eyes at the places saying that he and his sub consent to the test, he moves to sign it, and then hands the pen to Peter, but notices at the last second there's only one line.

"Oh, we don't need his signature, your signature of consent is enough."

"Yeah, well I want his signature of consent next to mine." Tony glares, pointedly dragging the pen along the paper to create a line for Peter to sign. "Baby," he summons, snapping his fingers.

"Yes, Mr. Stark?" Peter replies, just as practiced, "How can I service you?"

"I need your signature on this NDA."

Peter obediently rises to his feet, leaning over the table to sign the paper.

"You don't even need to read it?" The man on the right asks.

"Of course not. If my Sir read it, I trust him to know what's best for me."

Clearly, that was the right answer, as Tony's hand wrapped around his hips, pulling Peter back to sit on his lap.

They hadn't discussed this.

Tony smiles softly at him, left hand running up his chest, and under the shirt.

Neither of the men before them seem bothered by the display. If anything, they're pleased.

"Before we begin, I need to see your IDs. Just to confirm your designations."

"Of course." Tony nods, pulling his wallet out to produce both of their IDs from the pocket they'd tucked them into the day prior.

The men look over their ID cards, confirming the black heart on Tony's and the pink one on Peter's. They hold them up to the light, confirming the words etched beside the icons aren't forged.

When they seem satisfied, they stand at the desk, handing Tony back the cards.

"Now, for the next part of this process, we're going into this room next door. There will be some equipment for you to use, should you need it. Essentially, we just need to see how you and Mr. Parker interact to confirm that you are actually in an agreement."

"Sounds like a plan. Let's go," Tony replies calmly, following behind them and leading Peter into the room as well.

---

The giant room is simple, with dark red walls and black wood flooring. There’s only a few pieces of equipment Tony's never seen outside of an obscure sex club he frequented in '05 in the room.

"When you're ready Mr. Stark." They take a seat on the black couch in the corner of the room.

Tony nods, "Alright. Peter, I want you to strip out of my shirt and head to the display platform over there." He unclips the leash from his wrist and the chain falls against Peter's front.

"Yes, Daddy," Peter replies obediently, unbuttoning the shirt the rest of the way and allowing it to fall off his shoulders. He folds the garment, setting it on the floor next to him. Silently, he steps onto the circular acrylic platform and waits at attention with his head down and arms behind his back.

"Inspection," Tony states, crossing his arms, and standing just off to the side of the stand.

Without a second thought, Peter raises his arms behind his head, spreading his legs to wait for his next command.

Tony walks behind him, circling the platform as the world shrinks to just them.

"Service."

He nods, dropping his hands in front of his crotch, patiently eyeing Tony for the next word."

"Good. Nadu."

'Fuck.' Peter thinks, dropping to his knees. He kneels back, spreading his thighs just enough to place his hands palms-up on them, eyes trained at the floor just before him.

It feels like the room has suddenly grown 800 degrees hotter as Tony watches the younger man drop to his knees from just his command. He fights the urge to respond. To go over and take control and ownership of Peter, but instead, he coughs and delivers the next command, "Collar."

Peter lifts his head, presenting his throat as though Tony were to place or pull on the leather wrapped around his throat.

"Humble."

He drops forward, chain hitting the ground with a dull thud as his nose touches the floor, arms sliding before him, and his ass pushed out into the air for Tony or any passerby to inspect him. It wracks shivers down Peter's form as he lays there.

Tony's eyes widen.

This was a mistake.

Had Peter's ass always looked that good in those jeans or was this position just stretching the light fabric over his form? He clears his throat, glancing over at the suited men writing notes in the corner.

"Ready position," he commands, snapping his fingers to grab Peter's attention.

Peter pushes up, pulling his hands back towards himself, sitting on his knees with his lips slightly parted. The chain of the leash runs down his body as Peter raises his gaze to just above where Tony's face would be if he stood over him.

The thought fills Tony's head with more visuals than he's prepared for, and he feels himself going lightheaded.

This was a fucking mistake.

"Last one, Peter..." he states, "Captured."

Gracelessly, Peter rolls onto his back, spreading his arms and legs to present his body to Tony, inviting him to take control. His breath leaves his lungs. If it weren't for the jeans obstructing his view, Peter's cock, hole, and balls would be on display for him.

Tony chokes out a simple, "R-Released." Clearing his throat, he adds, "Good job, Peter." He offers him the button-up from next to the platform, helping him put it on, but stops him before he can button it.

"Thank you, Daddy, I'm glad that I could please you."

He presses a gentle kiss to Peter's temple and reattaches the chain leash to his wrist.

One of the men interrupts the exchange, catching Tony's attention, "Well, Mr. Stark, I can say that we are thoroughly impressed with you and your training of your sub. If you wouldn't mind having a seat with us over here, we can sort out his schedule for this semester."

"Gladly." He leads Peter over, dropping into the white chair across from them, and pulling Peter into his lap.

----

Two hours later, they arrive outside with one sheet of classes for Peter to begin in a week.

"We did it!!" Peter squeals, wrapping his arms around Tony in a tight, celebratory hug.

"We did, kid! You are now officially a student of MIT," Tony replies, "Congratulations! Wanna head home?"

"Please..." Peter replies. 'Just a little longer.'

----

The air in the penthouse is thick as Tony drops his keys on the counter in the kitchen.

"Now what? I expect you want to change into something more comfortable?"

'Please do, before I eat you alive,' Tony thinks.

"Um... I thought..." Peter walks around the counter, standing before Tony, "I thought I might stay in this a little longer. If that... I mean... If that's okay?"

"Fuck, kid... Of course it is," he murmurs, hand reaching out and stopping just before Peter's cheek. Peter's breath ghosts across his wrist, crushing the last of Tony's reserve. He places his hand on Peter's jaw, running it down toward his throat.

They'd removed the leash once they'd gotten in the car, and Tony mourned its loss, but instead reached for the ring at the center of Peter's collar.

"Is this okay?"

"Please..." Peter whispers, eyes falling to Tony's lips before flicking back to meet his eye.

"Fuck, kid..." Tony grabs the D-ring with his right index finger, pulling him forward into their first kiss. It grows heated almost instantly, as Peter presses his body back against the counter, caged in by Tony's left hand.

Peter whimpers against his lips, licking into Tony's mouth.

"I've wanted this so badly... For so long," he murmurs, sharing breaths with the older man, "Please, Mr. Stark, let me have it?"

"Of course, you can have whatever you want, Peter. Anything." He kisses the younger again, reveling in the soft whines slipping past Peter's lips. "What do you want?"

"Can you... Tell me what to do again?" His voice cracks, nervously and Tony smirks at the sound.

"Of course I can. You can say stop at any time. I won't hold it against you and it won't affect me sponsoring you for college, okay?"

Peter nods, waiting for his first command as soon as Tony lets go of his collar.

"I want you to go into the living room, strip out of your outside clothes, and pick one of your kneeling positions. Either Nadu, Collaring, or your Ready position. I will be there in a moment. Also, you will call me ‘Daddy.’"

"Yes, Daddy." Peter rushes out of the kitchen, and into the den, stripping and kneeling in his ready position, just like he was trained. He watches the kitchen door, patiently waiting for Tony to come through.

Tony pushes open the door to the den, and there in the center of the floor is Peter kneeling in the Iron Man red lingerie Tony'd picked a week prior, waiting patiently for the older man to claim him for his own. The red elastic bands wrap diagonally around Peter's center, and the lace at his crotch and chest stretches over the skin perfectly.

He looks edible.

"Fuck, look at you..." Tony gasps. "I swear it took everything in me earlier not to step up on that platform and kiss you earlier."

As if imagining it, Peter shivers. Tony smirks, and runs his fingers through Peter's hair. "I have a feeling you would have liked it if I had, baby."

The title makes Peter's eyes widen and he blushes.

"Noted." Tony chuckles, "How far do you want to take this?"

"All the way. I just... I want your cock so bad, Daddy..."

"Fuck..." he groans, "Yeah, we can... we can make that happen. Fri, lock down this floor, make sure no one gets in."

"On it, sir," she replies.

"You have my full attention, Daddy," Peter whispers, shyly, "Do what you think I am worthy of."

"Honey, you've had my full attention since I put my name on your neck. And as for what you're worthy of? I think you've earned being spoiled on my cock until you're begging. How does that sound?"

Peter shivers and nods, "Please, Daddy... Make me yours."

He chuckles and unbuttons his slacks, watching as Peter tracks every single motion of his hands. "Desperate?"

The younger man blushes, and lowers his gaze to Tony's shoes, not replying.

"I'm going to take that as a yes."

"Can we just... Can I--?" He raises his hands to Tony's belt.

"Fuck, of course you can, Peter." Tony nods, pulling his cock through the front of his boxers. "It's all yours."

Peter pushes forward, taking the tip into his mouth with practiced ease.

"Have you done this bef-- Oh fuck there..." Tony groans, hand falling into Peter's hair.

"Never kiss and tell, Daddy." He winks, licking along the side of Tony's length, sucking kisses into the skin.

"Fuck, Peter..." His hips jump when the younger man takes the crown into his mouth, sucking slowly down until he's buried the hilt of Tony's cock in his mouth. "How... did you... get to be so good at this?" His chest rises and falls as Peter watches through a hooded gaze. "You're so good for me, Peter..."

He pulls off, lips swollen and pink, "Say it?"

Tony runs his fingers through his hair, catching on the curls, "So good for Daddy."

Peter whimpers, taking Tony’s dick back into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and suckling sloppily. Slowly, Tony's hips push back against his sucking, creating a slow rhythm.

"Can I fuck your mouth, baby?"

He nods as much as he can, dropping his jaw to allow for space.

Experimenting with a thrust, Tony pushes his dick further into Peter's mouth, reveling in the tight heat surrounding him. He pulls back, repeating the motion a few times, gasping when Peter's gurgles vibrate around his length.

Releasing his hold, he allows Peter to pull off and catch his breath, watching as the younger man wipes drool from his lips, and tears from his eyes.

"Again?"

"When you're ready, sweetheart. You're doing so good for Daddy, baby. I'm going to go a little faster."

As promised, he speeds his rhythm up, thrusting into Peter's mouth, each breath carrying a desperate moan. "Fuck, Peter..." He tangles his hands in Peter's hair, pulling Peter's head in an opposing pattern to his hips, "Just a little more, sweetheart... And then I'll make you feel good too."

"Don't... Don't have to." Peter croaks, pushing his hips down against the ground. "'m good."

"Are you getting off on this, Peter? Enjoying me using your mouth? You enjoy being used by Daddy?" Tony purrs, tangling his hands in Peter's hair, pulling him forward again, "Good. Because Daddy loves using your pretty mouth."

Peter whimpers, sucking Tony back into his mouth, licking the beads of precum off the tip and down the side. He shivers, fucking his own mouth.

"Fuck, sweetheart... Can't... Can't fucking do that, I'm too close."

Tony swears he sees Peter's eyes sparkle when he says that, but he couldn't be sure. Not with his head falling back in a louder-than-necessary moan.

Peter shivers at the sound, and the vibrations of his own moans are what brings Tony over the edge.

He shouts Peter's name, bucking sloppily into his mouth, groaning loudly. "Fuck, so good for me baby... So fucking good."

Peter swallows around him, licking the remnants away, pulling off with a soft pop.

Tony tucks himself back into his boxers and sinks next to Peter, "God... Why haven't we done this sooner?"

Peter shrugs dazedly, head falling against Tony's shoulder. He wraps his arms around Peter, kissing him softly. The man tastes himself, and he smiles against Peter's lips.

"As for you..." he reaches down, slipping his hand into Peter's lingerie, and is met with a wet spot, and Peter's hypersensitive cock. "You-- You came untouched?"

"Mhmn.."

"Fuck, kid..." Tony gasps, "What did I do to deserve you?"

"Everything," Peter whispers back, nuzzling closer, feeling completely owned. Just as he should be.

Thank you so much for reading!!! Likes, Comments and reblogs are MUCH appreciated!

#starker #tony stark x peter parker #SFSecretStarker24 #shut up nika #nika writes

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winterspiderpurrs · 5 months

Text

Pepper sighed as she exited the elevator to head toward the lab. About two hours ago, she received the notification she and Rhodey set up several years ago. Rhodey was already en route to the tower. Should be here in the next twenty minutes.

When the doors slid open to the lab, she found Tony sitting in a chair, hand deep into a robot, but his focus was on a projected screen in front of him. Looks like he was reading paged of book. When he tilts his head a certain way, the pages turn.

" Tony. What are you doing?"

" Nothing. Just reading"

" Uh huh. Then why did Friday notify me that you unblocked Peter's on the server"

" Hey! Big tattle tell Friday! Don't worry about it, Pep. It's been a while, and I heard from Brucie that Peter published another paper. And I just wanted to read it. "

" Don't start this up again Tony. You go down this rabbit hole its going to be like before"

" Have faith Pepper! I'm just reading a paper, I'm not asking him out."

" Again?"

Tony swirls around in his chair and faces Pepper.

" I can control myself!"

" Said that the last 3 times. This time isn't going to work. Just leave him be Tony"

" It's not going to be anything! His idea to use some nano tech in closing wounds is intriguing, but we would have to test that out. Lots more research. I could get a grant for him to explore it. "

" Tony!"

Pepper stomps her foot to get his attention before he goes off on a tangent. This is how it always goes with Peter and Tony.

See Tony met Peter when Peter was 18 and was doing a summer internship at the tower. They hit it off and started a whirlwind romance. And that's how it went.

Things would be great, then Peter would ask for more, and Tony would break up with him. They separate for a while. Peter does something that draws Tony back in, and they try to be friends and end up where they started.

It's not like Tony doesn't know that Peter knows himself in the ways of science. But it came to the relationship? The long haul? Tony wanted that, but Peter was just so young, so he kept pushing him away.

They have been doing this song and dance for years. The last break up was a year and a half ago.

And Peter left without a fuss this time. Simply packed up his bags, told Tony to stop contacting him til he grows up and figures out what he wants. But not wait for him cause he was absolutely done.

The doors open to the lab again and Rhodey walks out.

" i don't smell alcohol so Tony is still sober. Whats the emergency Pepper"

" PGMATDK Protocol "

" Shit okay. "

Tony blinks.

" Hey! Only I'm allowed to have acronyms!"

"Sure Tones. But brace yourself."

"What?"

Pepper sighs and looks to Rhodey before back to Tony.

" You've read just Peter's papers. Haven't researched into him again correct?"

Tony frowned and looked between the two.

" No just his published work..."

" Well I'm sorry that this is coming out but...Peter got married"

Tony stares at them before standing up and pacing.

" We have only been broken up a year and a half? When? To who? "

Tony spins around to look at them.

" Tell me it wasn't to that Strange guy"

" No he didn't marry Dr. Strange, someone else about a month ago.

Tony stares at them again before sitting down. Rhodey comes to stand next to him and puts his hand on his shoulder.

" I'm sorry Tony..."

They stayed like for a while before Tony whispered.

" Does he seem happy?"

" Don't open that box Tony. But... he does... yes."

Later that night Tony was looking up the photos.

#who is he with now???#whatever floats your boat #could be #winterspider #shieldspider #spidershield #spiderfalcon #spideydevil #spideytorch #spideycap #spideypool #writing prompt #winterspiderpurrs #peter parker x bucky barnes #past starker #starker

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starkerfestivals · 2 months

Text

StarkerFestival's Extended AUpril!!

Hello everyone! Thank you to all the participants that joined us for our Valentine's Day exchange! We still have a few posts we're waiting on to close the event and once we have everything collected, we'll have a master post for the gifts.

Meanwhile– Us mods are extremely excited to announce our newest event! We are calling it Extended AUpril, and I believe we may have done something similar in the past.

For AUpril, we have made 2 community 4x4 bingos. The bingos will last all three months, and are light and dark themed. (Note: The prompts are themed this way. You do not have to do angst for dark prompts and fluff for light prompts. Feel free to be as creative as you want!)

Duration: This event will start today and last until the end of May.

Reminder: There is no obligation for these community bingos. Do them all, do exactly one prompt--it's completely up to you! Just make sure to tag properly.

Other Events:

March - There will be a list of 7 prompts dedicated to Omegaverse week (info post will be tomorrow). While it is a 'week,' this event will last the entire month of March.

Edit: This event is now live Here!

May - Mer-May week to be posted in May! Again, although it is a week's worth of themed prompts, it will last the entire month of May.

Below the cut are the written versions of the prompts.

Extra rules:

In order to get it reblogged, please @ us here, and feel free to use these hashtags! #StarkerFestivalsEvents , #SFAUpril24.

Crossovers are allowed and welcome for all prompts! Some of the prompts themselves are cross over prompts, please feel free to do so!

Edit: 1 prompt per content created. Multichapter fics can claim 1 prompt/chapter. Ex: One shot and moodboard = may claim up to 2 prompts)

You only have to complete one card to get a 'bingo.' We only separated the light and dark prompts for people who prefer to avoid angst! A bingo is four in a row for this event, meaning horizontal, vertical, or diagonal.

Tag every trigger appropriately, as always.

Have fun with it! This is to encourage AUs, not any specific prompts. Feel free to take it in any direction you want to.

Happy AUpril everyone!

Light Bingo AUs:

Royal

No Powers/Modern

Coffee shop

Education (Teacher, High School, College, etc.)

Celebrity (Actor, Singer, Streamer, etc.)

Artist/Author

Fix-it

Librarian

Star Wars

Magic (HP, Realism, Fantasy etc.)

Aged Up/Down

Angel/Demon

Lesbian Starker

Decorator

Soulmates

Cottage/Countryside

Dark Bingo AUs:

War/Military

YA Distopia (Hunger Games, Divergent, etc.)

Criminal

Superior Iron Man

Supernatural (Ghost, Vamp, Alien, Were, etc.)

Firefighter

Game of Thrones

Detective

Apocalypse

Break Up/Make Up

Blood

Lovers to Enemies

Stockholm Syndrome/Kidnapping

Historical

Hospital (Staff, Setting, Sick, Diagnosis, CI, etc.)

Mafia

#starker #starker event #SFAUpril24 #starkerfestivalsevents

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babybatscreationsv2 · 3 months

Text

Off Camera

Marvel | Starker

Peter really wants Tony's attention while he's working. He does his best to ignore him, but Peter is just too tempting.

Rating: Explicit

For H<3

Warnings/tags below

Warnings/tags: daddy kink, semi-public sex, teasing, orgasm denial, cock warming, face fucking, rough sex

Tony ignored the sight of Peter's pouting face around the side of his monitor. The faces on his screen discussed their current project back and forth, updating him on the status, always asking for more time and more funding. Which Tony was happy enough to provide. Peter was happy about none of it. They'd slept in and there was no time for a morning quickie before Tony's meeting. Hence the pouting.

"Daddy..." he whined quietly. Tony flicked his eyes at him in a silent warning. Peter blew air from his pouting lips and flopped back in the chair.

Tony kept his eyes on the screen. It was all the usual stuff. His staff were skilled and well compensated and it was rare anything of concern came up in these meetings, but the shareholders liked it when he was hands-on.

"Ahh..." A little gasp came from across the desk. Tony looked at Peter to see his legs were spread over the arms of the chair. He'd rucked up his stolen t-shirt and tucked it under his arms so Tony had a clear view of his gorgeous body and the hand that was rubbing his cock through his underwear.

He ignored him still. Peter's frustrated glare almost made him laugh. He tried to focus on the meeting, but every now and then Peter made a soft sound that pulled him away. Tony muted his mic to be on the safe side. He wouldn't put it past the little brat to start moaning directly into the mic.

It was an impressive few minutes before Peter pulled his cock out and started stroking himself. He was louder now and Tony could tell by the sound which whining little moans were forced and which were very much real. His near exhibition was turning him on probably almost as much as being as absolute pain in the ass was.

He let him go, watching from the corner of his eye. Tony could feel his control slipping bit by bit. He just had to hold out until his meeting ended, let the boy think he was unaffected, and then he'd punish the brat like he deserved. But he sounded so sweet. And the way he spread his legs wide, showing off that pretty cock and that tight little hole. His eyes darted away from the screen to get a better look and finally he snapped.

Tony grabbed the webcam from above his monitor and yanked the cable out. It clattered against the floor or maybe the wall he didn't care to look. He moved around the desk so fast Peter hardly had time to react and when he reached him there was fear in his big doe eyes. One hand closed around his throat and the other grabbed his forearm, pulling his hand off of his cock.

"Who told you to touch yourself, huh? Because it sure as shit wasn't daddy." He didn't waste time waiting for an answer, but he enjoyed Peter's fearful little mewl of 'please daddy, I'm sorry' while he unhooked his belt with one hand and pulled out his cock. For a second, a pleased little smile crossed Peter's lips, but he wiped it away. Not fast enough to avoid daddy's wrath.

Tony dragged him out of the chair to sit down in his own and shoved him down to his knees. Peter's mouth opened without question as he pulled him in and stuffed his cock down his throat all at once. He slapped his cheek as he struggled to take it.

"There. Now shut up and let daddy work." He looked at Peter and his pleading eyes. His mouth looked so pretty stuffed full like that. He let him take a breath before he turned his attention back to his confused subordinates.

"Sorry about that. Something's wrong with my webcam," he said with a laugh.

"Should we take a break?" someone suggested.

"No, no. Who needs to see my handsome face anyway, right?" The group all laughed. "Please continue."

Tony muted his mic and stared down at Peter's wide wet eyes. "Does it hurt baby? Too big for your little throat?"

Peter nodded his head, cock stuffed back his mouth.

"Good. It's what you deserve you impatient fucking brat."

Peter whined and Tony let him up to catch his breath. "Yes, daddy," he gasped. "I'm sorry." He took Tony's cock back in his mouth without being told.

Tony pet his hair. "You can't help yourself can you? You're only a cock hole. Must be terrible for you to sit there all empty."

Peter whined in what Tony could only assume was agreement. He hadn't thought through exactly what he intended for the little slut, but his mouth suckling on his cock like that was driving him crazy. And well, the camera was already gone.

Tony pulled him up from the floor. He turned him and pushed him down over the desk. Peter spread his legs before he could even ask. He rubbed a fistful of lube along his cock while he checked in on the meeting. He wasn't needed at the moment, but he still had a job to do. Two jobs really. Keeping Peter satisfied was a career in its own right.

As he pushed inside him, Peter gripped the desk, moaning and pushing up on his toes. Tony sighed happily. "We should have just done this from the beginning. My meetings would be much more interesting."

He moved his hips as Peter tried to speak and grinned when he whined instead. "You got what you wanted, sweetheart. Now keep quiet." Tony pushed his head down onto the desk and covered his mouth with one hand so he could unmute his mic.

The meeting was just wrapping up and there were a few questions for him to go over, opinions to give, before he could call it done. It was no trouble at all to fuck the boy deep and slow while he talked. When a few lingered in the call for some post meeting pleasantries, he stayed and chatted with the group about plans for the afternoon. Peter made tiny noises under his hand, but he kept perfectly still.

The call ended and Tony turned his attention to the pleading face beneath him. "Getting uncomfortable, baby? Need some attention?"

"Please, daddy," Peter begged, fluttering innocent eyes.

"You were a very good boy being so quiet, but I want to hear you now." Tony grabbed the back of Peter's knee and lifted his leg up onto the deck. He fucked him like he meant it now, all teasing done. Peter panted beneath him, moaning and whining, little whimpers escaping when he went too deep. He looked up at him with wide eyes and an open mouth, brain melted from being denied for too long.

It was impossible to last when he looked like that. All too quickly, he was cumming inside him.

Tony pulled Peter against him, keeping his cock inside his warm little hole as he sat back down. Peter twisted his head, searching for kisses that made him moan and his wet cock jump against his belly. A hand wrapped around it and Tony pulled it away.

"Daddy please! I need to cum," Peter said so innocently as if he didn't already know.

"What makes you think you get to cum after you acted like that?"

"Please daddy, please daddy-" Peter begged. His eyes squeezed shut in frustration.

"Shh," Tony trailed his fingers around Peter's open mouth. "You wanted to be played with so badly. I'll decide how I use you."

Peter whimpered.

"You just keep my cock warm until I'm ready for more. If you're quiet while I make some phone calls, I'll let you cum."

#marvel #starker #prompt fill

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graceful-starker · 2 years

Text

This Is Fine--Ch. 4

Summary: Peter learns a lot of things that make him question his decisions.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of past self-harm, mentions of alcoholism, implied/referenced dub-con, very ambiguous ending.

Notes: This was voted on to continue by the New Years Resolution poll. I was excited for this one, because the angst this fic has in it always makes me so emotional!

~~~

Peter sighs heavily, taking a sip of coffee slowly. “And I didn’t really say anything after that. I didn’t know what I could say to that...”

Harry shakes his head, tapping his fingers. “And he was drunk?”

“Drunker than he ever was when we were together,” Peter answers. Then he pauses. “Actually, I don’t think he ever drank anything when we were together.”

Harry pulls his phone out. “Never blame yourself for the actions of other people. You didn’t tell him to drink, it isn’t your fault.”

“I know,” Peter sighs, taking another sip. “I don’t know what to do now.”

Harry shows Peter his phone. “This article says that drunken confessions should never be taken seriously. If they can’t say it sober, it means they don’t want you to know.”

“Or he was too scared to tell me sober,” Peter argues. “I heard that drunk confessions are sober truths without a filter.”

Harry huffs, picking up his own coffee. “I don’t like Tony. He hurt you.”

“But it sounds like he wants to change,” Peter whispers, unable to look at Harry.

“Good for him,” Harry says with a scoff. “But he still doesn’t deserve you. He hurt you too deep. I’m all for people growing and becoming better people, but there’s no way you could ever be in a healthy relationship again. I mean, could you ever trust him not to look at other people again? Honestly, not just a gut feeling. If you got with him again, could you really be comfortable? Knowing that he can shift interests so easily?”

Peter looks down again, tears in his eyes. “Harry...”

Harry sighs and puts his coffee down again. “I’m not saying it to hurt you. I’m saying it because I don’t want him to hurt you.” Harry reaches over and grabs Peter’s hand, kissing the knuckles softly. “I want you to be happy, and I just want you to think very hard about if he can anymore.”

Peter reaches down to touch his toes, stretching carefully. It’s been a while since he’s done strength training.

He walks over to the bench, and sets up. Two minutes later, he’s grunting quietly as he lifts.

“No, Bucky, I’m not going to drop it,” Steve’s voice rings. Peter almost freezes, but he should really let them know he’s there.

“Steve...”

“I’m serious!” Steve says. “All he does is hurt you.”

“I’m not his boyfriend Steve, he doesn’t owe me anything. If he wants to try again with Peter, he’s free to do so. Drop it.”

“Hey,” Peter says, but Steve talks over him.

“Stop letting him use you, then!” Steve yells, far louder than Peter was being. “That’s all he’s doing, Buck. He’s using you.”

“He loves me,” Bucky argues. “He just can’t let himself, because he loves Peter more.”

“I don’t think-”

“He wants to have kids with Peter, Steve. He hates kids. If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is!” Bucky waves his arms dramatically. “He loves Peter, so much that he’s willing to let Peter go. He doesn’t love me that much; he wants to keep me in his circle of toxicity, he doesn’t care how much he’s hurting me. He cares how much he’s hurting Peter. God Steve, I’m the biggest regret in his god damn life! He knew it was a mistake to sleep with me before he did it.”

“That’s my point!” Steve yells back. He doesn’t care if you get hurt, but I do. You’re my best friend, and-”

“And I deserve to be hurt!” Bucky interrupts. “Especially by him! I’m broken, Steve. And nobody who was whole or who was good like Peter would ever look at me like that. Ever.”

“Bucky...you...you like...?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter.”

“So when you had a th-”

“He told you that?” Bucky asks, sounding hurt.

“Only that it happened.”

It’s quiet for a long time after that, and then Bucky speaks softly. Like he doesn’t want the words to leave him. “It took everything in me not to look at him. I knew he hated me. He didn’t want me there. I was so...I was touching him, and looking at him, and it was everything I wanted; except Peter didn’t want me there.”

“Bucky...Are you saying Peter didn’t-”

“He consented,” Bucky amends. “And I didn’t realize until after. Because he said he wanted me for so long, and he was smiling and he was encouraging me to do what I was doing.”

“So what changed?”

“He started crying. After. He pushed me off of him as soon as he could, and he ran away from me. Like I was...” Bucky clears his throat, as his voice was getting wet and rough. “It was like he hated me. I realized he probably already did, and he was just pretending. I still don’t...I still don’t have a clue why. Why he would agree to do it if he hated me.”

“Did he think he had a choice?” Steve asks, sighing and shifting. “Or did he think Tony would leave him if he disagreed.”

Bucky shakes his head. “No, no that isn’t it. Why would he do it if he knew Tony would leave him after?”

“He didn’t know Tony would leave him,” Steve points out. “What if he thought he either lost Tony and didn’t have the threesome, or he had the threesome and at least got a chance?”

It’s quiet for a minute, and then Bucky lets out a shaky breath. “He never wanted me?” And it sounds so broken that Peter almost makes a noise.

“Bucky...”

Peter hears Steve sigh heavily and the gym door slam loudly, likely behind Bucky. Then Steve sighs again and his footsteps drag all the way to the gym door.

Peter finally lets out his breath, and puts the weight down. Funny how all three of them didn’t feel like working out anymore after such a conversation.

Tony looks up as Bucky walks in his lab, forcing a smile. “Hey, Buck. I don’t really feel up to-”

“You lied to me,” Bucky accuses, and his voice is so full of hurt and anger that Tony turns his full attention to the man.

“What?” He asks. “I-”

“You told me he wanted me,” Bucky yells, hands clenching into fists. “You told me he wanted me. You told me he wanted a threesome. You said-”

“Bucky, why are you-”

“He never wanted me, did he?” Bucky says at a normal volume, voice breaking. “Admit it.”

“Of course he didn’t,” Tony says, and winces as Bucky looks away to keep his tears from falling. “What did you think happened?”

Bucky swallows thickly, and his voice is wet when he speaks several moments later. “I thought he wanted me, but just for a threesome. I thought he wanted me and he knew about you and me and he thought it would be a good idea and he was wrong.”

Tony stands, going closer to Bucky. “It’s not that different. He always knew it was a bad idea, so what? Isn’t that better? That’s what you said-”

Bucky pushes Tony away from him. “I said it was better that he knew we were--whatever we were, not that he never wanted it!” Bucky yells. “That he never wanted me.” His voice breaks on the word, and he turns away from Tony, unable to look at him.

“Why are you so worked up on if Peter wants you or not?” Tony asks angrily, losing his patience. “It was never about him, it was about the two of us being selfish together.”

Bucky turns around and starts backing Tony into a wall. His eyes are so filled with anger and hurt it scares Tony. “You aren’t this fucking stupid, Stark.”

“Maybe I am!” Tony yells in Bucky’s face, pretending to be braver than he is.

“Let me spell it out for you, then,” Bucky spits through gritted teeth. “Peter did not want to sleep with me, but I fucked him.”

Tony shakes his head. “No, you’re twisting it. He consented, he could have said no at any point-”

“Could he!?” Bucky yells, arm whirring in his anger. “You told me that you were going to leave him if he said no. What if he knew that? What if he knew that if he said no, you would leave him? What choice did he have?”

“No,” Tony pushes at Bucky’s chest. “You aren’t pinning this on me. I’m not a good person, but I’m not-”

“I wouldn’t have said yes if I knew!” Bucky yells, fighting the urge to hit him. “And you knew it! I said I would do it if Peter was okay with it, and he wasn’t!”

“Get away from me,” Tony gasps, shaking his head and calling his repulser. “Get away from me.”

Bucky scoffs, stepping away and stomping towards the door. “You were right, Stark. You can’t fix mean.”

Peter steps off the scale, sighing in annoyance. He lost his pound. He yawns and throws a clean shirt on, rubbing at his eyes; he needs coffee.

He’s just about to leave, when there’s a knock at the door. “I’m coming!” he yells, fixing his shoes on before opening the door. He freezes when he sees who’s on the other side. “Oh.”

Bucky is looking much more put together than Peter has seen him in a while. He’s dressed in a nice casual attire. His hair is washed and brushed; but most noticeably, he’s chopped it off. “Um...Am I interrupting?” he mumbles, looking down.

The fact that Bucky admitted to Steve yesterday about wanting Peter is making Peter want to do stupid things. “No. I was just about to grab breakfast, that’s all.”

“Oh,” Bucky seems to be losing confidence. “You should-you should do that, I was just-”

“Come in,” Peter says, opening the door wider. Bucky hesitates for a couple seconds, but he finally nods and walks in. Peter shuts the door behind Bucky, and turns to look at him. “What’s up?”

Bucky stares at his feet, opening and closing his mouth several times. “I...I wanted to talk to you,” he finally gets out.

“Okay,” Peter says, trying to sounds welcoming. “I’m here.”

Bucky finally looks up, makes eye contact. “I wanted to...um...I never really apologized,” he says softly. “And I have a lot of things to-”

Peter steps forward, taking Bucky’s hand into his own hands. “None of it was your fault, Bucky. Tony and I were never going to last.”

“Well,” Bucky clears his throat, and he squeezes Peter’s hands. “That, but also, uh...” Bucky looks away, swallows thickly. “I just wanted to apologize because I um...I know I should have realized sooner, and for that I’m even more sorry, but what I’m really apologizing for is...Look, I never would have slept with you if I knew you didn’t want me. I know I should have seen the signs, but-”

Peter kisses Bucky’s knuckles, and it startles the other man into silence. “I consented, Bucky, if that’s what you’re worried about. I did want you, still do honestly. I knew the risks of what we did. In my head, I was thinking that if Tony is going to leave me, at least I’ll get a really good fuck out of it. I was more nervous you didn’t want me, honestly. I knew he was going to leave me either way.”

Bucky stares at Peter for a moment, before he takes a bold step forward. “You did want me?”

Peter nods, starting to blush a little. “I just thought you were doing it because you wanted Tony. Like I was just...Just something you had to put up with because I was a package deal. I mean you couldn’t even look at me, you-”

“I don’t think,” Bucky interrupts with a whisper. “That I have the words to tell you how wrong you are about that.”

Peter’s breath hitches as Bucky’s face gets closer. “I-I mean, I would understand, you know how I feel about myself and my appearance, I’m not-”

“Can I kiss you, Peter?” Bucky whispers, and Peter can feel the breath on his lips.

This is a bad idea. A very bad idea. For so many reasons, not even just the obvious one. But- “Yeah.”

Bucky cups Peter’s face, one thumb rubbing against his cheek. He leans forward slowly, connecting their lips.

It isn’t magical. It isn’t like when you get a first kiss with someone you’ve been dying to kiss. But it’s so special.

Peter’s hands rest on Bucky’s shoulders, stepping closer. He pulls away after a moment, looking up with wide eyes. “I can’t believe you actually want me.”

Bucky kisses Peter again, this time with more passion and pressure. He backs Peter up into the wall, his hands slipping down Peter’s face and down his chest, down down down, until they rest on his hips, playing with the skin in between Peter’s shirt and pants. “Of course I want you. Hoe could I possibly not?” He kisses Peter again softly, before moving his kiss to Peter’s nose. Then up to flutter over Peter’s closed eye. He kisses his forehead, and then down his temple and cheek, to his jawline, nipping so softly but it still makes Peter gasp.

“You are so beautiful, Peter,” Bucky whispers, kissing just behind Peter’s ear. It makes the younger boy shiver in want. “Everything about you. Your beautiful eyes, your cute little nose, your sexy jawline...” he kisses under Peter’s jaw, and the sensitive spot makes Peter moan. “Your neck...” He kisses down Peter’s neck, and Peter’s hand fists into Bucky’s now short hair.

Bucky moves his hands up Peter’s shirt, feeling at his abs, as he reaches Peter’s shoulder. Peter pushes Bucky away and sheds his shirt, blushing and wincing as the self-consciousness sets in. Bucky only grins though, taking in the sight in front of him.

He kisses at Peter’s shoulder again, hands roaming Peter’s front. “Even your shoulders. God, the things I want to do to you...”

Peter moans as Bucky moves down, nipping at Peter’s collarbone. “You don’t have to-”

Bucky pulls away, pupils blown. He grinds his hard cock into Peter’s hip, and it makes the younger boy gasp and moan in the same breath. “I’m not lying. I want...God, I want so many things. I want to lay you down and have my way with you. You’re so pretty Peter, you have no idea. I couldn’t look at you because I wanted you so bad it hurt.” He kisses down Peter’s chest, hands moving back around Peter’s sides.

“Show me,” Peter begs. “Show me.”

Bucky grins, teeth sharp. He steps back, leading Peter by the hand to the bed. Peter turns and climbs backwards on it, laying down and letting out a shaky breath as Bucky hovers over him. “Tell me if anything is too much,” he says. He waits for Peter to nod before he picks up where he left off.

He moves one hand over Peter’s left pec, thumb brushing over the nipple. He licks the other nipple, kissing it wetly and breathing hotly over it. Peter keens, toes curling. “There’s nothing about you that I don’t love,” Bucky admits, nipping at the bud and making Peter jerk away from it. The older man chuckles softly, but he moves on, kissing down Peter’s tummy. “I’m glad you’re eating again,” he says softly, licking at the lines between Peter’s abs. His hands move back down to Peter’s hips.

Peter whimpers, looking away, embarrassed. “Buck...”

Bucky moans, and Peter looks back just in time to see Bucky grinding his cock into the bed. “Fuck, Peter, even your voice.” He kisses more downwards, pulling Peter’s pants down just enough so he can kiss the very top of his hip. “I could cum just listening to you saying my name.”

Peter feels tears fill his eyes, but he isn’t sad. He feels overwhelmed with Bucky’s desire for him. Even when things where great with him and Tony, he didn’t say things like this. “Bucky,” he moans, twisting both his hands in the other man’s hair.

Bucky groans, his forehead resting on Peter’s hip. His head happens to rest in just the right way that Peter can feel his hot breath on his cock through the pants. “Fuck,” Bucky croaks, and the deep, gravelly noise goes straight to Peter’s cock.

“Take my pants off,” Peter demands, lifting his hips and making Bucky’s head slip just a bit.

Bucky hums, happily leaning up and following his orders. The pants fall to the floor, and Peter's cock springs free, resting on his V. “Fuck,” Bucky whispers, kissing the shaft softly on the underside vein. “You’re so perfect.”

Peter blushes even more, pushing Bucky down with his grip in the older man’s hair. “More.”

“Yessir,” Bucky slurs, licking from his balls up to the tip.

It makes Peter moan loudly, and he bucks his hips up. “Bucky,” he whispers.

Bucky moans against Peter’s cock, hands moving from holding his hips to cupping his ass, pushing his hips up ever so slightly. He takes Peter into his mouth, one finger rubbing drily against Peter’s hole.

It’s almost too much all at once. He can’t decide if he wants to move his hips up into Bucky’s warm mouth, or press down against his finger. “Yeah,” he moans, all breathy. “Oh god, Bucky!”

Bucky moans around Peter, sloppily drooling all around Peter’s cock. The excess spit spills down his shaft, over his balls and in between his cheeks, which Bucky takes advantage of. He gets the area nice and wet with his spit, and then pushes his finger in.

Peter whines, legs wrapping around Bucky’s neck and he keeps his grip on Bucky’s hair. “Don’t stop,” he whines, wiggling his hips more onto the finger.

Bucky moans again, pressing as far down as he can, feeling the tip press into the back of his throat. He wiggles his finger around until he finally finds Peter’s prostate. He rubs over the spot in tiny circles, sloppily sucking around Peter as he does so. His other hand rubs back up Peter’s front, thumbing at Peter’s nipple in circles.

Peter cries out, tears leaking out of his eyes as he wiggles his hips to get more of each sensation. Every once in a while, he jerks his hips hard enough that his tip slips into the back of Bucky’s throat, and the momentary lapse of oxygen makes the older man choke and the muscles spasm around the tip, and- “Fuck!” he yells, pulling Bucky’s face harshly, smashing his nose into Peter’s pelvic bone. “Bucky, oh Bucky, I’m-” Bucky moans, and Peter is done for.

Peter moans louder than ever before, legs clenching around Bucky’s ears as he cums so hard he sees white. After he calms down, he blushes and releases Bucky’s head, feeling bad about trapping him. “S-sorry, I-”

Bucky moans, pulling away for oxygen and licking his lips. “Fuck, you’re so perfect.” He runs his hands up and down Peter’s thighs, and starts to nip and bite at them.

Peter whines at the stimulation, his whole body shaking. “Bucky,” he whines, and whines again wordlessly as Bucky breathes hotly over a new hickey.

“Never stop making those pretty noises, doll,” he requests, and he slips in a second finger almost without Peter noticing.

But he does notice, and he whines. “Hurts,” he pouts, clenching his hands into the sheets.

Bucky coos, pretending to be sympathetic before kissing the inside of Peter’s knee. “Poor baby,” he says softly, but he spreads his fingers apart anyway.

Peter sobs, his cock leaking with the after effects of his last orgasm still. It twitches in a valiant effort to get hard again, but it’s just too soon. “Bucky!” he whines.

Bucky growls, biting harshly at Peter’s inner thigh and leaving teethmarks behind. He adds a third finger, grinding his own cock into the sheets. “I love how tight you are for me, baby. Got a damn death grip on my fingers honey.”

Peter whimpers, putting zero effort into pushing Bucky’s head away. “Bucky...”

The older man pulls his fingers out, making the younger whine in disappointment. Bucky chuckles deeply, flipping Peter over carefully and resuming his fingering.

Peter whimpers, holding his pillow and pushing his hips back into the assault. “Bucky, please...”

Bucky groans, pulling his fingers out and holding Peter’s hips still. He kisses Peter’s shoulder, rubbing one hand over the other, enjoying the feel of it. He moves his hand down Peter’s shoulder blades, kissing between them and licking the sweat away. “God, you’re so perfect.”

Peter whimpers, his cock slowly hardening again. “Bucky, what are you doing?”

Bucky hums, sliding both hands up and down the planes of Peter’s back, before moving down to squeeze at his cheeks. “One day, I wanna give you a massage. A full body one. I want to touch everywhere,” he groans.

Peter whimpers at the thought, tears coming back. The idea that Bucky wants to do this again... “Yes. Yes, please. Bucky, I need you!”

Bucky groans, pulling back again and stripping himself as quickly as he can. He lowers himself, so his cock rests between Peter’s legs and rubs against his balls, and his chest is on Peter’s back.

Peter whimpers, feeling smothered in all the best ways. “Buck,” he moans.

Bucky growls, nipping at Peter’s neck and lifting his hips, rubbing it between Peter’s cheeks and the tip snags on his hole with every thrust. “What do you want, baby?” he breathes hotly over Peter’s ear, licking the shell. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

Peter whimpers, rubbing his cock in the sheets. “I want you to destroy me, Bucky. Want you to make sure I can’t walk tomorrow. Want you to mark me up and make it look like I was ravaged. Please Bucky, want you.”

Bucky grins, biting down harshly on Peter’s neck and sucking. It makes Peter scream, and he uses the moment to push inside in one deep, slow, never-ending thrust. He doesn’t stop until his balls hit Peter’s, and a bruise is so clear on Peter’s neck there’s no way to hide it.

Peter’s eyes roll into the back of his head, and his jaw drops open in a silent scream; silent, because it feels like Bucky pushed all the air out of his lungs to make room for his cock.

Bucky laughs lowly, hot breath tickling Peter’s neck. “Already baby? So fucked out on my cock you’re already speechless?”

Peter whimpers, finally letting out a breath and sobbing on it. “Move!” he demands.

“Yessir,” Bucky drawls, his accent thicker than before. He starts to pull out slowly, before he slams back in. He starts a smooth pace, hard and fast enough to drive Peter mad.

Peter stops trying to hold himself up, crying into his pillow as he lays flat against the mattress with Bucky pinning him to it. The older man bites and sucks all over Peter’s neck, shoulders, and shoulder blades.

Peter ends up screaming as his release overwhelms him, sobbing brokenly into the pillow out of pure bliss. He almost whines when Bucky pulls out, but the older man simply jerks himself off so he can paint his release over Peter’s hole and backside.

Bucky pants heavily after, leaning down and kissing Peter’s neck again softly, right over a blossoming bruise. “Was that good, baby?” he coos.

Peter sobs again, barley able to twitch he’s been fucked so good. “Yes, fuck,” he breathes.

Bucky chuckles, laying beside Peter and pulling the sweaty boy into his arms. Peter whines, but he happily snuggles into Bucky’s chest.

Peter finally catches his breath, and then looks up at Bucky. “Did you mean it?” he whispers.

Bucky smiles down at him, and even though the angle isn’t flattering, Peter thinks it’s the best view he’s ever had. “Every word.”

#winterspider #starker #Gracie's New Years Resolution #my writing #fanfic #tw: eating issues #tw: past hurt

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shoolb · 8 months

Text

"At least she’d still be warm."

check out through the valley to life by @mayybirds

[start id:

a digitally drawn comic made up of ten panels, featuring an abstracted scene from the resident evil fanfic "through the valley to life" by @mayybirds, where ethan breaks through to eveline in chapters 3 and 4.

the first panel is entirely in black and white, featuring a dilapidated room, an upturned wheelchair in the background. the dark gray background turns to white further down the panel, where ethan and eveline stand off, eveline with her hands straight out and exuding black mold, while ethan's hand reaches up to cover his face, standing his ground.

the second image fades into an image of eveline hiding in a vent, with a pair of legs walking past it in search of her. the image fades into black mold.

the third image is a snapshot in time surrounded by dark mold. eveline is younger, with a capital 'E' pinned to her chest and an unknown scientist in a lab coat injecting a needle into her arm.

the fourth image is a snapshot in time surrounded by dark mold. it simply depicts a larger hand harshly gripping a smaller person's wrist, assumed to be eveline. this image is accented by a burst of red-tinged black mold.

the fifth image is a snapshot in time surrounded by dark mold. a hazy white light surrounds mia winters as she bandages the wrist of someone off-screen, assumed to be eveline. behind mia floats the annabelle tanker in the water.

the sixth image is a pitch black canvas with a textured red tinge at the bottom.

the seventh image depicts a large reaching hand in inverted black and white on a spill of textured red and black, obscuring half of a face outlined in white.

the eighth image depicts eveline outlined in white on a black background, her one visible eye wide in shock. the canvas fades to a red-tinged white. an inverted black and white portrayal of ethan hugging a person that is partly obscured.

the ninth image depicts a background of eveline's stick figures in white on a black background. in a starker white, a stick figure of a woman is on the far left while a stick figure of a man is on the far right. in the middle, a stick figure of a little girl. the image fades to white.

the tenth image depicts ethan hugging an old woman, eveline. they are both in black and white except for eveline's red scarf. they are surrounded by a burst of protective black mold.

end id.]

#mayybirds #resident evil #ethan winters #eveline winters #accessible #id in alt as well as under read more #i've had this in the works for a while but after i posted my last ttvtl fanart i realized there's no like. ACTUAL canon fanart for this fic #i debated waiting until the next chapter came out so as not to overwhelm the illustrious author but i don't have the strength forgive me #you ever read a fic that is everything you ever wanted and more? my forehead chakra forcibly activated while reading this fic #anyway also some fun symbolism notes: Ethan's face is always obscured in some way until the last panel #also the red tinge implies fear until the last panel where the red is merely a scarf—a ''red herring'' if u will. still around her neck tho

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preromantics · 2 months

Note

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

But

Starker + voyeurism?

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.

#starker #ask box fic #whoops this is like 2700 words lol #will clean up and probably thrown on AO3 tmmrw #prompts open :)

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