Tumgik
#starker cu
ravenlost2187 · 2 years
Text
Does anyone else find it kind of problematic when fanfics aren’t like….properly tagged to a degree where you can still be surprised but aren’t so thrown into whiplash by the suddenness?
I just came across a fic where it had pretty big changes from the original text and it wasn’t tagged for that at all and I just got more and more sour about the story and just started skimming. Which is like…disappointing cus it was an amazing story idea but the lack of tags, going in and expecting the characters to be one way and find out they’re not really threw me and I was just unable to enjoy the fic…does anyone else feel that?
6 notes · View notes
sillyparker · 4 days
Text
there is nothing that upsets me and ruins my mood more than when i stumble upon anything starker related. has me actually sitting there just so angry like it reallh riles me up More than i should let it cus its so ?!?! BUT IT GETS ME each single time
2 notes · View notes
ravenlostsnippets · 2 years
Text
“I can’t help it I know I’m sick” Starker
Basically, I think it’s like sex pollen and so Peter only trusts Tony to take care of him and Tony wants to go nice and sweet but Peter isn’t getting off so, tired and a little desperate Tony asks Peter what he wants and Peter, feeling gross about it, sobs out that he wants Tony to hurt him. Which has Tony reeling because fuck, that’s what he wants but...really? Peter wants it too?
“I’m sorry I’m sorry, I’m sick -” Peter sobbed and Tony’s head was spinning.
“What? Peter, stop, what are you talking about?” Tony shushed him, trying to figure out what was going on.
“I can’t - I can’t -” Peter struggled out, still crying and Tony shushed him again. 
“Peter, just tell me okay, what do you need?” Tony tried again desperately. 
“I need you to hurt me!” Peter cried out and then went back to sobbing. “I’m sorry...I’m sorry...I’m sick -”
Tony, who had been working so hard to make this nice for Peter, swore. “Jesus christ Pete,” 
Peter’s watery eyes filled further, probably about to say something again but Tony cut him off by shooting his hand out and grabbing Peter’s neck. Peter gasped in surprise and Tony gritted his teeth as he started to pound further into Peter who started choking and making noises, a cross between aroused and still sobbing.
After it’s over:
Tony stayed down for a minute, breathing hard. He hadn’t gone that rough in quite a few years. He let himself stay sprawled on top of Peter for a few minutes before sitting up and looking Peter over. He trailed his fingers down the younger’s body, keeping things feather light and warm. He thought about leaving to get a cloth or something but he didn’t want Peter to spiral.
So instead, Tony gently placed kisses around the bruises that had formed, keeping them light and warm and not harsh. He didn’t bite or nip, just left quiet touches. Peter mumbled something and Tony gently turned his head to give a wet kiss on the younger’s lips before whispering, “What?”
Peter blinked, a little bleary eyed. “What’re you doin’?”
Tony hummed. “Aftercare sweetheart. Trying to just be...gentle. After all that. I’ll probably get a…” Tony trialed off when he realized that Peter looked like he was crying again. “Hey, hey, what’s that about?” Tony sat up a little before using the pads of his thumbs to gently wipe the underside of Peter’s eyes to get those tears away. “Come on lovely, what is that?”
“I just…” Peter hiccuped. “‘m sorry. I know ‘m sick. I...I know - you didn’t - you didn’t want’it like that…”
Tony for five seconds felt a split moment of fear. He could - he could if he wanted to...lie. He could say that Peter wasn’t sick, and it’s fine, and it’s something that other people do too, you’re okay but…
“Peter,” Tony leaned down, gently kissing the underside of Peter’s eye. “You’re not sick. And if you were then I guess I’m sicker.”
Peter squeezed his eyes and then blinked. “Wh...why?”
Tony kissed his forehead. His mind kept running, trying to come up with the right words. “I liked that Pete. I didn’t want it soft. I like doing that with my partners. And...fuck Pete, I wanted to see you hurt probably just as bad as you wanted to be hurt.” Tony was starting to cry now and he blinked them away. 
A trembling finger gently pushed a tear away from Tony’s face and the older man looked down at Peter who looked just a bit stunned. “Re...really?”
Tony took a breath but nodded.
Peter chewed his lip. “Well...then...if I’m not sick then neither are you.”
Tony almost laughed but closed his eyes instead. “Peter…”
“I - I only think it would work with you,” Peter bursted out suddenly and Tony opened his eyes, frowning a little. 
“What do you mean?” 
“Like,” Peter let out a frustrated noise. “Like, the getting off? On getting hurt? I don’t...that doesn’t work with anyone. Cus then, uck - then I’d get real embarrassing boners during fights -”
Tony couldn’t help the snort and he felt so relieved when Peter broke into a wide smile.
“But anyways, I think it...it’d only work with you,” Peter reached up and started tracing lines on Tony’s face.
Still not quite understanding, Tony pressed a kiss to Peter’s palm and pressed further. “I don’t understand.”
“I trust you.” Peter whispered. “I...I didn’t - I didn’t know if it was normal. And I was scared it wasn’t. But I figured...I figured if anyone knew then it’d be you. And I - I sorta, found it online, y’know? And when I tested it -”
“Tested it?” Tony blinked.
“I choked myself?” Peter winced. “Um, just to see how it felt. And it felt good. And I figured...well, I trust you...and I’ve always kinda...had a crush on you so…”
“So you trust me and that’s why you’re able to get off when I hurt you.” Tony finished and Peter nodded. 
“I’m still sorry.” Peter added suddenly. “Even though...even though you said you wanted to -” and the younger’s eyes got a dark look suddenly. “Wanted to do that too, I … I know you wanted -”
“Hey,” Tony interrupted. “Hey, no, I wanted you to feel good. And if you feel good when you’re hurt then that’s just a bonus for me.”
Peter looked a little shy suddenly. “I...I love you…”
Tony’s mouth didn’t give his brain any time to react, “I love you too honey,” 
Peter beamed and reached up, wincing a bit so Tony swooped down the rest of the way to place an open mouth kiss on the b - young man.
a/n afterwards - listen….secretly pain slut peter is my jam. this trope literally owns my life the fEELS of peter wanting to be good for tony but wanting to feel good and tony loving the same shit as peter does but wanting to make the kid’s first time specIAL and sOFT but can’t bc the boy doesn’t like it is just - *chef’s kiss* muAH love it.
11 notes · View notes
starkeristheendgame · 3 years
Note
Hii i was wondering f you know of any like... realistic fics? I know that sound weird, but i mean basically non-AU fics and maybe easy on the daddy/dirty talk stuff. Not that that stuff isn't great but i sometimes feel like the starker fandom doesn't have many fics where I'm like "oh yeah thst would totally happen". Sorry if this is a lame request. Thankyou!!
Please never feel like your preferences in fanfiction are something to be ashamed of or are 'lame'. Realistic fics can be the best! I'm more than happy to help you find something that fits your tastes. Likewise; please don't ever hesitate to send in requests to any of the amazing authors in the amazing community for more canon-compliant or realism-based works!
Only A Kiss | @starker-oasis Take Me (Off Speaker) | @starkeristheendgame
There is also this ask where another Anon asked for the same thing, which has 6 other recommendations.
21 notes · View notes
starkerisendgame · 4 years
Text
A State of Undress
Loosely inspired by this post by @starkerobsession. The basic premise being that Peter wears Iron Man panties under his Spidersuit. This takes place during and following the iconic rooftop scene during Homecoming.  I decided to post it to this account because I’ve been sorely neglecting it since making my other main. I also said on Discord this was gonna be short. As always; that idea got fucked pretty quickly. Big love to everyone on Discord who hyped this up.
TW: Slight angst | Undernegotiated sex/kink | Power imbalance | Referenced D/s | Underage 
Humiliated doesn’t even come close to covering how Peter feels. Thoroughly checked and put in place, there’s nothing for him to do but retreat to the edge of the rooftop, sitting on the ledge and curling over himself to watch the people milling about in the streets. 
Would they care? He wondered miserably. Would they wonder where Spiderman went? Will they miss him? Will they be okay without me? 
Stupid. That last one is stupid; of course they’ll be okay without him. They have people like The Avengers. People like Tony. They have the police and the general good people amongst them willing to help. 
They don’t need Spiderman. The only person who needs Spiderman is...Peter. 
He looked down, trailing his fingertips over the ornate pattern that curved and stretched from his fingertips to his shoulder. It was the last time he was going to touch it. The last time he was going to wear it. He risked a glance back at where Tony stood near the hovering suit, on a connected call to Happy. 
It was undoubtedly going to be the last time he saw Tony, too. 
Like he could sense he was being watched, Tony turned smoothly on his heel, dark gaze finding where Peter had cowered in the corner like a scolded dog. His expression was both impassive and telling, teeth pressed firmly together and brows level as he motioned for Peter to come closer. 
He didn’t dare speak as he pulled himself to his feet, arms and thighs still aching, stomach still taut and rolling where it had felt like his arms were going to be ripped off like in the movies. He didn’t dare to lift his gaze when he got closer, staring at the polished black oxfords that Tony wore. 
“Happy has clothes for you. You’re gonna change in the car, and then because I’m nice and an adult, he is going to take you home”. The unspoken for good lingered between them, terse and volatile, and Peter closed his teeth down over his tongue as his eyes burned with tears, reaching up to tug the mask over his face so Tony wouldn’t see them. 
Tony took a step away, the suit lowering to mold to his form like water flowing through the curves of a landscape, and then they were both masked, Peter finally lifting his gaze to those glowing, cerulean slits. He’d always thought the suit looked kind of adorably grumpy, but now it just seemed cold and impassive, scowling at him from an arm’s length away, as out of reach now as it had ever been. 
Tony’s head tilted, like he was about to say something, before he seemingly changed his mind and made a finger-crooked ‘follow me’ motion, striding to the edge of the root not far from where Peter had been and stepping off it with simple, dramatic elegance. Peter, needing momentum to swing, jogged after him and jumped, arching like a diver before he twisted, letting a web snake out and propel him onwards. 
He relished in the feel. It would be more or less the last time he ever did this. 
He followed Tony, but took an extra building or two’s liberty along the way, just to draw out the feeling of sailing through the air, of the comfort of the suit fitting against every curve, every line of his body. The joy was over in seconds though, as he landed on the asphalt next to the SUV, where Happy stood waiting and where Tony had only just landed. 
Peter tugged the mask off, eyes wet and cheeks ruddy with tear-tracks. Happy’s mouth opened, then closed, and he looked away, brows pinched and mouth downturned. It made Peter breathe out a sigh of relief, though he knew the additional scolding and rant would come when he was trapped in the car with no escape. 
“Clothes are in the back. Dress quickly” Tony instructed him, tugging open the back door of the SUV. “Knock on the window when you’re decent”. And Peter was vaguely surprised, because he’d expected Tony to just...Leave. But then, maybe Tony was sticking around to make sure that Peter didn’t try to take anything from the suit. 
Sniffling, he wiped his eyes and ducked into the car, pulling the door shut behind him. Whilst it was a spacious vehicle, it was no Limousine, and he had to remain ducked over and folded up as he reached to press the pressure sensor that would disengage the form-fitting suit. It fell away from his shoulders with a soft sound, and he instantly felt cold and exposed, instantly missed its reassuring texture. 
He was tugging the suit down around his hips, trying to keep his balance, when the cool air blew on the topmost slope of his ass, and he cursed. 
Fuck. 
How could he have forgotten? The moment Tony said he wanted the suit back, it should have clicked in his mind. It had, in some way. He knew he was only wearing underwear beneath the suit, but he’d forgotten which underwear. The sleek fabric was a cross between a thing and panties, the front enough to cover his slender cock but the fabric diminishing as it hugged his hips and sank into the groove of his ass. What covered his tight little hole was barely more than a string. 
Red was outlined with rich gold, and a detailed arc reactor nestled just at the top of his assline, where the small of his back sloped into the parted curve of his cheeks and where the last of the fabric dwindled. On the front, just under the jut of his hips, two blue strips to resemble the mask’s eyes stood out against the burnished red.
Peter let out a soft whine and shifted back onto his haunches, trying to squirm out of the suit in the limited space. He was thankful that the clothes Happy had picked out were far too big - The shirt looked like it would come down to his thighs, and the garish pink sweatpants were thick enough that they would obscure Peter’s shameful secret from view. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck” he chanted, risking a glance over his shoulder. The windows had been tinted, and Tony had his back to the car, but Peter still tried to hurry, leaning backwards and kicking his legs as he fought the fabric down his thighs. He was leaning fully backwards now, one hand braced on the arm-rest of the door as he scrabbled to undress. He was just kicking the suit away from his ankles when his weight shifted, shunting as his hand slipped and his head whacked off the lower portion of the window with a dull thunk. 
He groaned in pain and shuffled, trying to regain his balance when there was the soft click of the door lock, and his heart raged against his ribs as the door bracing his weight suddenly disappeared and he fell backwards, head lolling out of the vehicle and nearly between Tony’s thighs, giving him a perfect, upside view of his clothed cock as his own thighs and arms splayed for grip. 
“You shoulder consider a career in quick cha- Jesus Christ”. Tony’s voice was sharp, stunned, and Peter cringed, a ragged whimper of defeated humiliation hitching in his throat as he forced himself to tip his head forwards a little, look past the rise of Tony’s groin and up his shirt, to where the older man was staring unabashedly at his own cock, at the red and gold and blue that stretched over it. 
And then he was looking down, meeting Peter’s gaze with dark yet electric eyes, and Peter flushed, letting his head ball back and squeezing his eyes shut. 
“Happy” Tony barked tersely. “Take a walk. I’ll text you”. 
“What? Boss, I can’t just-”
“Take. A. Walk”. 
Footsteps, fading. 
Peter daren’t open his eyes, trembling where he lay as the silence seemed to stretch between them like a piece of elastic at the point of breaking. He’d seen the panties in the window of a women’s lingerie store, limited edition and the last pair. It had been sheer chane that they’d fit him, and sheer luck that the girl behind the counter hadn’t even bothered to ask him his age or who he was buying them for. 
“That’s all you were wearing under the suit?” Tony asked after a moment, voice strained and low, and Peter risked a short, curt nod, not wanting the make the scenario any worse by accidentally headbutting his ex-boss(?) in the cock. The silence continued for a beat. “And you bought those. Personally. You chose them, and you chose to wear them”. 
He nodded again. No sense in lying. What could he say otherwise? His Aunt had bought them for him? May hadn’t bought him underwear since he’d turned ten. And she certainly wouldn’t buy him a set that verged on a thong. 
Silence. Peter risked opening his eyes, gaze finding and fixing on the brief peek on Tony’s zipper for lack of anywhere else. He didn’t want to disturb this by moving, didn’t want to shake Tony out of his distracted or rage-induced silence and unleash whatever verbal lashing Tony was going to unleash. He did shuffle a little though, bringing his thighs closer together, trying to tuck his legs up a little to cover his indignity. 
“I didn’t know you’d see it” he mumbled after a moment, cheeks flared red and voice weak, breathy. The overwhelming sense of you fucked up threatened to overlap him, envelop him. It had never actually occurred to Peter that Mr. Stark might actually ever see it. Since that day before the whole ‘Civil War’ shebang, Tony hadn’t set foot in the apartment, much less his room. 
And Tony had never seen Peter in anything less than the suit. He’d even built an undersuit for it, a thin sort of spandex-like wearable for under the suit so he’d be less exposed when getting in and out of it, though Peter rarely wore it for the sake of quick changes. He was deeply lamenting that decision now, though, when Tony’s gaze still hadn’t moved from his barely covered cock, his fingers flexing then fisting at his sides. 
“You’re wearing my face on your crotch” Tony announced again, and Peter cringed. He probably shouldn’t mention the arc reactor on his ass, then. When he dared to look back up, he noted with surprise that some of the view from before was now obscured by the black fabric of Tony’s pants. And the man hadn’t stepped closer. Which meant that...
Tony Stark was hard. Or...Hardening. To the thought of Peter wearing Iron Man underwear. He blew out a harsh breath and squirmed a little where he lay, jolting heat coursing through his body at the notion. “You...You know you’ve always been my hero” he weakly defended. As if that made this whole scenario any better. 
“Martin Luther King is also a hero figure, but I’ve never seen anyone wearing a thong in his likeness” Tony pointed out, and Peter’s cheeks erupted like a volcano, flaring hot and red. He gave a mumble in response, fingers flexing against the frame of the car where he’d gripped as he fell. “Is that why you agreed, when I asked for your help? You wanted to fuck me?” 
Peter scowled, head tipping forwards to furrow his brows at Tony past the rise of his cock. “I agreed because you’re Tony Stark. Nobody says no to you; least of all someone that idolises you. I was excited. I was flattered. You wanted my help and you were offering to help me be Spiderman. What was I gonna say, ‘no’?”
Although, he’d tried to. He’d had homework, after-all. 
“Did you own these, back then?” Tony asked, one hand lifting to rest of the open door, fingers flexing around the metal. Peter huffed, but shook his head. 
“No”. No, these he’d bought only a few months ago. An impulse buy. He drew a breath and tried to push himself up, but as he began to a hand fell to his shoulder and pushed him back down. Something thrilling shot down his spine, lips parting as he relaxed back under the touch, looking at where Tony fixed him with a dark, almost unreadable gaze, except for how his pupils were blown and his breathing had deepened. 
“Mr. Stark. I’m- I think I’m humiliated enough. Right now” he gathered the courage to say after a moment where nothing else happened, and Tony’s fingers flexed against his shoulder, teeth audibly grinding together. Beneath the silk blend of his slacks, his cock twitched. It stole the breath from Peter’s lungs and he didn’t dare lift his gaze for fear of shattering the moment. 
“You always make things so difficult, kid” Tony breathed out, almost like he didn’t mean for Peter to hear it. And then louder; “I’m trying to do the right thing here. I’m trying not to be like- I’m trying to be better than Howard. I’m trying to be responsible and you’re there between my legs wearing Iron Man panties”. Peter was so stunned he couldn’t think of anything to say in reply, brain grinding to a halt. 
“Mr. Stark?” Was all he could manage in a bare whisper, and Tony’s fingers dug gently into his shoulder before releasing, sliding up and over the extended column of his throat, touch featherlight. For all that it was gentle, it scorched a path of heat along the skin, forcing Peter to swallow heavily. He felt like he was frozen glass, fragile and liable to shatter at the slightest pressure. He was confused, slightly turned on, and a little afraid. 
“You’re too pretty. I should have taken one look at you out of the suit and found someone else. Not least because you’re a kid. Look at me, I’ve just destroyed your life, broken your heart, and I’m thinking about...” He trailed off, nothing but a ghost of a whisper, and Peter swallowed. 
“Thinking about what?” 
“You” Tony answered simply, but the meaning behind the word was anything but simple, and it sent a thrill down his spine, gaze once again falling to find where Tony’s cock pressed against the zipper of his slacks, not fully hard but invested in the situation none the less. He thought about it carefully. He wasn’t an ignorant child - He knew the power imbalance between them. Knew that the age difference was deplorable. Knew that Tony would be taking extreme advantage of him, especially after this. 
And yet. 
“I would” he whispered after a moment, soft and hesitant. “Even...I still would. I’ve always wanted to. I know it wouldn’t get me the suit back. But I’d do it anyway”. And above him Tony’s teeth ground and he swallowed, gripping the door tighter, gaze darker than obsidian. 
“This is why you shouldn’t be around me, kid. I’d let you” Tony managed roughly, voice no more than a strained rasp. It made Peter’s head spin, rapidly re-thinking, re-evaluating any and every interaction they’d had post this. Had Tony thought this when they met? Was he thinking about it when they were shut safely away in his bedroom? Would he have done something then, if it had come to light? 
“Then let me” he rushed out before he could second-guess it, drawing his hands away from the edge of the door to reach slowly and shakily for Tony, who hissed a breath and reached for him, then stopped, fingers clenching around air as Peter lay his palms on his thighs. The muscles were thick and taut beneath his palm, near trembling like a startled horse as he slowly slid them up. He’d never done anything like this before, not with anyone, but he kind of knew what felt good on himself. 
And porn made it look easy enough, even though he was old enough to know not everything in porn was real. Still, he knew enough to close his grip around Tony’s zipper, dragging it down awkwardly until a large hand wrapped around his wrist, stilling the motion. He couldn’t really see Tony with his head lolled back like this, but his sinking heart when Tony pulled his hand away lasted only a moment, before Tony dragged the zipper down for him. 
Peter breathed in, out, let his head fall to the side. They were so openly exposed here. Anyone could walk past at any moment, or a street camera could turn there way, or- 
“JARVIS. Smoke and Mirrors, please” Tony rasped above him. Peter watched the still deployed suit turn, the hologram activate, and the air around the entrance to the alley shimmer. He didn’t have to question it, he knew that meant a real-time projection of the ‘empty’ alley was now being deployed. Anyone walking past would just see an unwelcoming, empty space full of garbage bins and litter. 
“If you’re doing this because-”
“Mr. Stark,” Peter interrupted, fingers flexing against his thighs. “I know this is conceptually wrong. I know this won’t get me the suit back. I know this doesn’t mean anything. But just...Let me”. It came out more as a plea towards the end, high and breathy as he fought the urge to cry again, and Tony fell silent above him, grip and stance relaxing. 
He reached for Tony again, fumbling with how to approach it, when Tony’s hands moved as a buffer and took over, reaching down into the dip of his slacks. Peter’s throat went dry and his heart hammered as he watched the fabric move, watched as Tony drew out a sizeable, mostly-hard, flushed cock. It made his entire body ignite, tongue peeking out to slide along his lower lip. 
Tony Stark’s cock. In his face, about to go down his throat. 
He made a soft sound, low in his throat, and reached for it as Tony stroked himself slowly, pushing into the curl of his fingers. His cock was on the thicker side, curved and cut and sticky at the tip when Tony made his own guttural sound in response and angled his cock downwards. Peter shuffled, got comfier and without a better range, and tipped his head up, breathing out before he closed his fingers over Tony’s. 
He damn near cried at the fact of what he was doing as he shifted, nuzzling up against the underside of his cock and the thick swell of his balls, still confined in his slacks. Tony breathed out heavily above him, cock twitching beneath their grip, and Peter did it again before shuffling backwards further, pulling down until the sticky-wet tip brushed over his parted lips. It was kind of like a gloss, smooth on his lips and mostly tasteless when he licked them, and above him Tony grunted, pulling his lower lip between his teeth. 
“Kid, we-”
Peter pushed his head forwards and up, sucking the tip into his mouth like a popsicle and hollowing his cheeks. It worked, anything Tony had been intending to say cut off with a hiss and one of his hands pulling away, down to cup Peter’s cheek while his other squeezed his cock. Peter kept suckling, pressing his tongue flat over the rounded tip for lack of any better ideas. It was big and warm and soft in his mouth, and he briefly imagined in sliding down his throat, filling his mouth. 
Several moments of soft sucking passed, and he pulled his head back a little before pushing it back up, copying what he’d seen in porn by sliding the spongy tip in and out of his mouth, licking at it whenever it pushed back between his lips. Tony’s hand stayed on his jaw, gentle and without pressure, but his other hand moved in short, alternating little pumps, stoking the pleasure that Peter offered. 
“Is this your first?” Tony whispered above him, and Peter pulled slowly off Tony’s cock, mindful of his teeth as he licked his wet lips and nodded. He didn’t get any response after a brief pause, so he sucked Tony’s tip back into his mouth slowly, flattening his tongue to the bottom of his mouth as he let his lips pop over the flare of the tip, until he began to work at the length. He kept pushing until his neck ached from the angle and it felt like his mouth was too small to take anymore, eyes closed and focused on the feel of it. 
Tony’s hand wriggled free from beneath his own, cupping Peter’s jaw gently, thumbs rubbing a circle, before they slid down and back, cupping his head and taking its weight so his neck was no longer straining to hold it up. Peter moved both of his hands up to wrap around what his mouth couldn’t take, not wanting the experience to falter into sub-par. He knew he was nothing compared to the rest of Tony’s long list of lovers, knew it couldn’t be all that great compared to the other countless blowjobs Tony had ever received, but Tony hadn’t stopped him yet, and it spurred him on. 
His own cock was achingly neglected as he licked and sucked and nodded his head, doing his best to form a tight, wet, warm sleeve for Tony’s cock, but he squeezed his thighs together and ignored it, focusing on referencing every piece of porn he’d ever seen or read and all of his own jerk-off sessions as he worked Tony’s cock. His mouth and the top of his throat already ached a little, but it was easy to ignore. His arms had burned since the ferry, anyway. 
“Fuck, kid” Tony uttered above him softly, stroking through his hair, and Peter gave a muffled sound around his cock in response, high and keening. Tony’s hips jerked forwards and Peter half-gagged in surprise, even though Tony hadn’t moved more than a half-in forwards. It made Tony groan above him, fingers tightening in his hair, and Peter had to squeeze his thighs until they trembled not to reach down and take care of his own drooling length. 
He tried to take Tony’s length deeper, pressing his tongue down and pushing his head forwards, but it only went a few more inches in before he was gagging, his throat feeling like it was completely closed off. Tony’s hands were gentle as they pulled him away. “Easy, kid” he soothed above him, tugging a thick handful of curls before Peter sucked in a breath, swallowing around what he could take. He began to move his hands in earnest, mindful of the lack of lube as he applied a little pressure and pumped each time he sucked down. 
For all he could swing around all day, he was losing breath quickly at this, though he supposed it was more down to the sheer emotional wring of the situation and the fact that it was his first time. Tony didn’t seem to care either way, grunting above him, fingers tight as he fought the urge not to fuck forwards. It was sloppy, over-careful and inexperienced, but Peter could taste the salt on his tongue, could feel the gooey-thickness of tell-tale precum. 
He’d lost count long ago of how long they’d been there, the sounds of the city faded well into the background as Tony twisted his curls around his fingers, as Peter felt the heavy slide of skin over his tongue. He had no idea of how many minutes had passed since they’d started, only focused now on how his panties stuck uncomfortably to the wetness that leaked onto his own hip, on how Tony’s cock seemed to twitch and pulse on his tongue here and there, a sign Peter knew meant Tony was close to orgasm. 
He sucked harder, closing his lips over the soft skin, pushing himself until each thrust was uncomfortable and threatened to make him gag again, but Tony was cursing above him, hips stuttering now, single-focused on the wet, warm channel around him. Peter mewled as Tony’s thrusts became sharper, a little less careful of his abilities, and the signs began to culminate. Tony’s heartbeat spiking, his cock suddenly stiffening and seeming to swell over his tongue, a sharp rasp of his name and then a flood of salty, thick cum to the back of his mouth, sliding down his throat so his breath hitched and he spluttered, convulsing around Tony’s cock, Tony, who groaned as fucked forwards, chasing the flex of his throat. 
Tony rode his orgasm hard, milking his cock with Peter’s throat until it seemed to relax on his tongue again, hard but not as raging as it had been before, and he slowly began to pull out as Peter snuffled and jolted and swallowed on sore muscles, lips dark and wet and swollen when he finally sucked in a gasp of air, letting Tony’s hands carefully tip his head forwards. He spluttered as he heaved for breath, the taste still rich on his tongue as Tony stooped a little and coaxed him into sitting up, into leaning back against a strong thigh. 
“Easy. You did good. You’re...Okay”. It was an awkward but soft attempt, and Peter let his head fall back into Tony’s hip, looking up at him through wet lashes, suddenly hyper-aware of his own undress and his own arousal as Tony’s cock began to slowly soften in his peripheral. Tony looked suddenly stilted and tired, and Peter ducked his head again, bracing himself for the second lecture of the day. 
Instead, Tony’s hand slid up into his hair, gentle as he stroked through the messed up curls, tender it slid down his jaw to wipe away a glob of drool from the corner of his mouth. 
“I should...Get dressed. Happy won’t be...Happy. With waiting so long. And you’ve probably got stuff to do” Peter whispered after a moment, surprised by how rough and scratchy his voice had become. It almost hurt to talk. 
“...No” Tony murmured after a moment, and Peter frowned, head tipping back again. Tony’s gaze, when he met it, looked torn and heartbroken, but determined. Steeled against his own internal rage of emotions. 
“No?” He echoed fearfully, dread rising in his gut. 
“No” Tony repeated, then looked up and away. “We’re going to get in the car. Fully. And I’m going to show you what a blowjob is meant to be like, while you wear those fucking panties. And then...You’re going to get dressed, and we’re going to go to the Tower. We’ll...Figure this out. Like adults. Reasonable adults. Well. As...Best as an old pervert and a fourteen year old can” Tony breathed, frowning at the end, though Peter’s lips were already curving upwards. 
Hope. 
“Fifteen” he corrected, like he had on the rooftop, except now he was smiling.
406 notes · View notes
starkersgalore · 4 years
Text
hrmmmm.... a ‘sex doll au’ where every citizen is assigned a random 16-character code the day they turn 17. And every year a percentage of the population is randomly chosen to immediately give up their freedom to be transformed into fuck toys. Not literally turned into dolls, but they go through surgeries and lobotomies to have their minds altered to the point where they have no thoughts of their own other than their newfound responsibilities as a sex doll. Once the procedure is complete, they’ll be fitted and placed on an auction block - mostly for the rich. 
Virgins obviously go for much more than non-virgins. 
Upper middle class and middle class buyers can “rent to buy” so long as they put out collateral of equal or lesser value. 
Anyone lower on the caste basically can only buy second-hand. Unless they’re given a ‘sex doll’ as a gift. 
each ‘sex doll’ is fitted with a chip in their brain, and a collar around their neck. In the past, remotes were also handed out, but nowadays an app has been created where you can take full control of your ‘doll’ directly from your smartphone. 
the chip acts as a computer that makes the ‘doll’ comply with demands. whether they’re verbal or typed (for mute buyers)
the collar seconds as a shock collar should any ‘doll’ defect from it’s owner. In the case of constant disobedience, one may schedule for a memory wipe of their ‘doll’. 
Now, imagine Peter’s “Parker Luck” pulling a 180 fuck you on him, and he’s being hauled away from his apartment with a defeated may being held back by authorities, and someone in professional clothing coldly lets her know that she’ll be seeing a “severence pay check” in the mail shortly. 
Who ends up buying him? (I have Tony in mind, but really it could be anyone.)
(Also still a WIP. Feel free to add more to this, or if you choose to write your own fic/ficlet, I’d like to be tagged)
111 notes · View notes
starker-au · 4 years
Text
I don't read manga often (rarely if at all) but I recently read this manga called Unfather and honestly I want a starker version of it so bad
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Peter as Kyunghee
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tony as Sihyun
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Steve as Kim Junsik
24 notes · View notes
starrystarker · 5 years
Text
ik i already posted a screenshot of that starker taglist but like i just want to say
can you imagine having so much time on your hands ???? like i can’t even get up in the mornings,
what are they even anti about lmao like go off sis why u so anal u tense go do some hot yoga or some shit like relieve that negative energy we don’t stan
i ain’t tryna do shit let me enjoy my life and starker and leave us the fuck alone
go do smn with yall lives bc rn they empty as fuck if yall anti starkers be having this time n energy for so much uncalled for hate
create ur content and let me create my content thanks
49 notes · View notes
goofatron · 6 years
Text
oh boy here we go again...
“You can ship _______ but ONLY if it’s with the adult version of the younger character!” 
Fucking go fuck yourself I will ship whomever I want with who/whatever I want. 
245 notes · View notes
blazingparker · 3 years
Text
holy SHIT the uncharted trailer is giving me SO MANY FIC IDEAS
---
“aren’t you a little young to be a bartender?”
“aren’t you a little old for prom?”
uM STARKER HELLO?!!?!?!?!??!?
---
undercover peter parker doing his best but being just a cutie patootie that doesn’t know how to handle girls flirting with him cus he looks damn good in his tux
enter tony to save him and fuck him because, as i said, he looks so fucking good
---
peter getting knocked out of a plane without the suit, hybrid scene between what’s in the trailer and the iron man 3 scene with the people who fell out of air force one
cue frantic, overprotective tony
---
GUYS SO MANY IDEAS
7 notes · View notes
spideyspeaches · 3 years
Note
AHHHXBSBSHSVWH so you know how you said you hate starkers? cus like 10000% valid. shit makes me queasy,, well anyways, apparently there’s something called “winterspider”. and because i love you so much, i just want to grant you with this piece of information and let you ponder and wallow in it. much love ❤️
UGH IKR!!! Like how do people ship such shit 😭😭😭 it's scarring and like, media has influence on people okay? Believe it or not. Also heheh ly2 but I was unfortunately already aware of that shit, I've been on ao3 way longer than I've been on Tumblr and lemme tell you I've seen some shit there before I worked out the tagging systems 😭😭
Much love from me too 😘😘
5 notes · View notes
ravenlost2187 · 2 years
Text
I’ve resorted to asking on here but APPARENTLY I didn’t reblog this really good starker fic
It’s an a/b/o universe with omega Peter and alpha Tony. It might still have powers? I can’t remember exactly but the avengers exist. It sorta starts with Tony announcing that he’s going to participate in this old tradition of kidnapping an omega and I distinctly remember MJ ranting about it and Peter agreeing but also being like whoever that is is going to be lucky cus he ofc is crushing on Tony. And it ends with Peter walking home one night and I think Bucky and Steve convincing him to get into a car and therein meets Tony
Oh and also, there is like a rule where an alpha announces it and then has like some amount of hours to get their omega. And I’m absolutely confident that this is a tumblr link, I’ve been scouring tumblr since two am this morning and have continued my search for more hours but I just can’t find it
38 notes · View notes
gumnut-logic · 4 years
Text
Flannel (Bit 18)
Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 | Bit 4 | Bit 5 | Bit 5a | Bit 6 | Bit 7 | Bit 8 | Bit 9 | Bit 10 | Bit 11 | Bit 12 | Bit 13 | Bit 14 | Bit 15a | Bit 15b | Bit 16a | Bit 16b | Bit 17 | Bit 18
Oooh, a bit more than a bit this time. Kinda resembles a chapter...oooh, scary :D 1574 words.
-o-o-o-
The lodge was at the end of a winding single lane road lined by pines and firs. John remembered them last as a wall of grey and green shadow. The difference today was as stark as it could have been. Unlike their first visit, it was summer, the sun was out and the deep green of the wet conifer forest was just gleaming.
The Cascades towered up above them as the road followed a natural valley cut by a stream before beginning a steep climb into the side of the mountain. The car’s engine shunted down several gears under the strain as the road wove higher and higher among the trees.
“Why did Dad book a place so far out of Seattle.” Alan was almost leaning out the window on his side. The draught after tropical Tracy Island was chilling.
Scott sighed. “He wanted it to be a vacation. We were splitting up more and more with me at college, Dad caught up in business and Mom returning to work after her maternity leave with you. He wanted us to be together. And we were, for the most part.”
It was all new for Alan and possibly Gordon as well. The story was unspoken taboo out of respect for the feelings of the eldest two…and, if he was honest, John as well.
Perhaps Alan was right. This trip would help.
He really hoped it did.
The drone of the car’s engine switching gears as Virgil guided it through the curves was both comforting and annoying. John resisted the need to pull out his phone and access Five. He was unaccustomed to doing nothing, to watching the scenery. The almost dread of where they were going and what it might do to him and his brothers was gnawing at him.
He had been twelve. He watched Scott turn frantic when their mother did not return. John hadn’t been worried. He had a good book and was grateful for the opportunity to just sit and read. But as time wore on and Scott worried more, it slowly crept into his mind that, yes, there might be something wrong.
It wasn’t long before baby Alan picked up on Scott’s anxiety and began wailing at the top of his lungs. This, in turn, aggravated Gordon who was no longer happy to play with his toy fish. John attempted to distract the six-year-old, but like Alan, he had picked up on the eldest’s anxiety and wanted his mother.
But their mother didn’t come back.
John blinked as the car turned into a driveway and took the last rise up to the large log cabin from so long ago and came to a stop.
“It is unoccupied. I checked.” Gordon was repeating himself. He’d said that before they left the Island, but he said again it anyway. The aquanaut was in the middle seat, caught between John and Alan. He unbuckled himself, but nobody moved to get out of the car.
Virgil’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel.
Scott reached over to his brother, his hand touching his shoulder.
Virgil flinched away and threw off his seatbelt. Without a word, he shoved open the car door and, letting in the chilly air, climbed out.
Scott stared after him.
Swallowing John opened his door and followed his brother. His feet crunched on gravel as he came to stand beside Virgil, but the engineer did not acknowledge him. Instead, he stared at the lodge, his expression a little lost.
John didn’t offer a question. He just stood there with him and turned to look at the building from his nightmares.
-o-o-o-
Alan watched Scott hesitate, his hand still mid-air as if beckoning to the now absent Virgil. The frown on his face was one of both concern and loss.
Quietly, Alan climbed out of the car and stepped into the cool air. Gordon scrambled to follow.
Without a word, Alan reached over and opened Scott’s door.
His brother jumped.
Alan didn’t ask if Scott was okay because it would have been a stupid question. “I have the number to the key safe if you want to look inside.”
Wide blue blinked up at him. “Uh, sure.” His big brother swung around and pushed himself to his feet.
He had yet to look at the building.
On the other side of the car, John said something quiet to Virgil. As if cued, Scott straightened and turned.
The lodge was little more than a big log cabin. Long, single storey, a front porch ran the length of it. Big enough for a family of seven with room to spare.
“They painted it.” The words came out in one breath, his eldest brother simply staring. “It used to be green. They painted it blue.”
Alan looked at the building again and yes, the panels below the windows and the guttering were all a pale blue.
John said something else to Virgil who shook his head.
Scott immediately noticed and Alan saw the sudden switch to concerned older brother in every line of his body.
“Virgil?” Scott strode around the car and beelined to the engineer.
Alan sighed to himself.
An arm wrapped around his shoulders and he turned to find Gordon beside him. A small, sad smile and he turned to watch their three eldest brothers.
Virgil was shaking his head again as Scott asked him something.
Gordon shifted beside him. “You want to get the keys, or should I?”
Alan shrugged. “I’ll get them.” After all, the building held no memories for him at all.
Except the ones they were going to create today.
-o-o-o-
“Virgil?” Scott approached his brother almost fearfully. The last time Virgil had been here, he had been with his mother. They had left together and neither had returned.
His brother held up a hand. “I’m fine, Scott.” Strained eyes peered up at him. “I should be asking you that question.”
“Me?” Scott fought the sudden need to take a step back. “I’m okay.” He gestured with one hand. “They painted it.”
“I prefer the green.”
“Are you kidding?”
“No.”
Scott glanced sideways at Virgil. Both of his fists were clenched, but not tightly. His eyes were tracking over the building as if absorbing all the details. Beyond him, John was a red-headed mirror to Scott, both of them worried for the man between them.
Virgil straightened. “I want to go inside.”
Scott blinked. “Alan has the code.”
“Alan has the key!” His sixteen-year-old brother approached, holding up the metal trinket.
Scott held out his hand.
Cool metal was placed carefully in it.
The key was different.
He filed that tiny piece of information away and strode to the front door.
The shade beneath the porch was cold out of the sun. Scott focussed on the task of opening the door and ignored the memories trying to crowd him.
Dad, late that Friday night, grinning as he opened the door. Scott had his arms full of sleeping Gordon. The six-year-old had been heavy, but Scott didn’t mind. It had been a long day and his little brother had been so excited to be going on vacation, he’d worn himself out.
Mom had her hands full with Alan, feeding him in the car drive up. Both John and Virgil had been buried in their tablets, the first reading, the latter drawing despite the swerves on the curves.
Dad let him in. The place was lit up in warm yellow light. Pre-prepared by the owners, a log fire was burning in the fireplace and a complimentary supper was spread out on the table, everything ever so inviting. The sounds of his family around him whispering in deference to the two sleeping children.
The bustling arrival of a family on vacation.
This time the door opened to silence.
The only light was from the sun outside and it cast dull shadows on quiet furniture. He took a few steps into the room and his brothers followed. Gordon, now twenty-one walked in under his own power, now a strong, grown man.
Virgil followed. Not much taller, but ever so older, his expression echoed the darkness of his hair. Solemn eyes took in everything. He said nothing.
John and Alan entered last. Alan had little but curiosity on his face, whereas John’s face held memory.
The absence of two other family members had never been starker.
The interior of the building had been renovated in the last fifteen years. There was barely anything left that Scott recognised other than the shape of the room and the placement of the kitchen and the fireplace.
But there was one piece of furniture he did remember.
A single rocking chair sat in one corner. He could remember Gordon claiming it and then attempting to rock himself into the next dimension. Mom had to kick him off before he lost his breakfast. It then became her corner.
Wrapped in a shawl, baby Alan in her arms, rocking gently back and forth.
It was one of the last images he had of his mother.
“Scott?”
Alan stared up at him.
He blinked. “Alan, sit in that chair.” He nodded in the direction of the old piece of furniture.
His little brother frowned a query at him, but did as he asked.
Alan sat down and rocked himself a little, his blue eyes looking up in question.
Scott let a breath out.
It had been a hard fifteen years.
-o-o-o-
Next
44 notes · View notes
spideythot · 5 years
Note
idk if you're still taking requests, but I love your starker hypnokink, and I would love it if you did just a tinny winne bit more ;))))))
I can’t resist hypnokink 🤤 - so here’s a little something to satisfy us! Hope you love it! 💙
Contains: hypnosis(duh), nff, abuse of power, Doctor/patient
———
This was Peter’s sixth visit with Dr. Stark. He was strangely nervous, a little excited though. He didn’t remember a lot about his previous sessions with Dr. Stark, but he left each one feeling much than before. Dr. Stark was the best therapist Peter ever had, but the man made him feel all fuzzy inside. He’d even started to have wet dreams about his doctor. Peter was sure that wasn’t normal. He was just supposed to be coping better with his uncle’s death, not developing a crush.
“Peter, good afternoon,” Dr. Stark greeted as Peter entered the room. “How’s my favorite patient?”
Peter smiled at him, blushing only a little. He couldn’t believe that was true - Dr. Stark helped so many people - but it was nice to hear. “I’m doing a lot better,” Peter answered.
The doctor nodded. Peter plopped down on the couch and hugged one of the pillows to his chest. It smelled like Dr. Stark - coffee, expensive cologne, and just a hint on engine oil. It was one of the man’s hobbies, working like a mechanic. He had showed Peter some of the devices he built. That’s how they first bonded, over a love of science and technology.
Peter settled into the couch and they began speaking. He was doing a lot better, feeling less guilt and shame over the loss of his uncle. He rarely had nightmares anymore, the dreams replaced with much more pleasant ones. He was doing better in school again too, thanks to Dr. Stark.
As Peter spoke, his whole body tingled. Dr. Stark looked so pleased with his progress. Peter loved the proud grin on the man’s face as he thoughtfully took in all the boy’s words. He wanted to please Dr. Stark more than anything.
Live to please, live to obey. Good boy.
Peter felt his face flush at those thoughts. He’d been having intrusive thoughts since his third visit to the therapist. “Is everything alright, Peter?” Dr. Stark asked.
What could he say? He couldn’t just blurt out that he’d been having inappropriately sexual dreams about his doctor... or that he had fantasies about being on his knees in this very office... begging for Dr. Stark’s cock.
Cock. Worship cock. Suck cock. Obey.
Oh, god, there they were again. Peter shook his head and directs his gaze to his lap. He attempted to hide his face in the pillow he was holding. “I’m fine,” he squeaked.
It was a poor lie, and obviously Dr. Stark saw through it. Instead, he leaned back in his own chair and spread his legs. “Peter, look at me,” he said, his tone lower than before.
Despite his embarrassment, Peter raised his head to gaze at the doctor. The man raised his hand and snapped his fingers. The sound echoed through the office space. Peter’s eyes glazed over slightly, but they stayed glued to Dr. Stark. “That’s it, relax for me,” Dr. Stark purred, “It’s Playtime.”
Playtime, good boy. Be a good boy. Obey time.
Yes, time to be good for Dr. Stark. Then Dr. Stark would make him feel so amazing. Peter had done this before - it was so easy. He loved being Dr. Stark’s good boy. He loved to obey. Obedience is pleasure. Please Dr. Stark, receive pleasure.
Peter slumped on the couch, body relaxing but eagerly waiting for Dr. Stark’s orders. His heart beat faster, his body heating up and tingling. “Stand Peter,” the therapist said, “Take your clothes off.”
Peter did as he was told, slowly rising to his feet and stripping. He set his clothes in a loose pile by the end of the couch and waited for the doctor’s next command. Peter covered his dick with his hands, a little self conscious in front of his therapist. Dr. Stark motioned for Peter to sit back down, so he did keeping himself covered.
“Doesn’t that feel better?” Dr. Stark asked. Peter smiled, it did feel good - his bare skin against the comfy sofa. “Spread your legs Peter, there’s no need to hide.”
Peter slowly opened his legs and moved his hands to his sides, giving the doctor a full view.
Dr. Stark frowned suddenly, making Peter’s gut twist. Oh, no. He’d done something wrong - he was a bad boy. “Doctor...” he tried to apologize. But his mouth snapped shut when Dr. Stark’s gaze met his. He shouldn’t speak without permission - he knew that.
“It’s alright, Peter,” the man said, sensing his patient’s panic, “I expected you to be hard.”
Oh. Peter glanced down at himself. He wasn’t hard, though he could feel something stirring low in his belly. “Maybe you need some help,” Dr. Stark spoke again, calling Peter’s attention back to him. “Maybe you need my voice to get hard. Is that it, Peter?”
Peter bit his lower lip and gave the man one curt nod in response. Tony grinned and continued, “You like the sound of it, don’t you? Close your eyes, just listen.”
Listen. Obey. Good boy’s listen, good boy’s obey.
Peter’s lovely eyes fluttered shut, his head tipping back against the couch. His fingers twitched on the cushions, but he didn’t move his hands at all. Tony watched Peter roll his hips on the couch. “Feel it - feel the heat coursing through you. You can’t stop it, can’t resist it, no choice.”
Peter whined, his hips bucking slightly as his cock twitched to life. “That’s right, Peter,” Tony continued, “No choice - but you like that. You don’t need to think, Doctor thinks for you.”
No thoughts. No choice. Only obedience.
The boy’s cock was hard and even dripping precum now. Peter moaned, “D-doctor...” He moved his hands to his thighs, itching to touch himself.
“Behave,” Tony warned. Peter moved his hands back to grip the couch cushions again with another whine. “Doctor knows exactly what you need. To loose all those bad thoughts in your head.”
Peter nodded again. He slumped on couch, legs spreading wider. “Replace them with better things, right?” Tony teased. The boy shuddered, images of the wet dreams he’d been having flashing through his mind. They all featured Dr. Stark - touching him, kissing him, fucking him. He could almost feel Dr. Stark’s hands on him now. He wanted it so badly, but he couldn’t say anything, at least not until Dr. Stark gave him permission to beg. All Peter could do was hump at the air and hope to entice the man for more.
Tony watched Peter fall apart on the sofa, shivering and whimpering, desperate mewls and half-words coming out of his mouth. He thrust hips toward Tony, his little cock bouncing against his tummy.
“You’re ready to burst so soon,” Dr. Stark chuckled, “But I’m not quite done with you yet. Open your eyes.”
Peter obeyed, half-lidded chestnut eyes staring at Tony. Dr. Stark opened his trousers, taking his dick out. Peter’s eyes immediately drifted to it; he licked his lips.
“You want this?” He asked.
“Y-Yes, Doctor,” Peter pleaded.
Yes, cock. Need it. Beg for it.
“Think you can take it in that pretty little hole of yours this time?” The man asked. He stood and crossed to where Peter was sitting. Peter’s breathing quickened as the doctor approached him. His hands moved to his thighs and he held open his legs for Tony.
“Such a good boy,” Tony praised. He grinned when a thick stream of precum spurted from Peter’s cock. Tony quickly reached for the drawer on the end table. He grabbed a small bottle of lube from it and popped the cap open. This was going to be Peter’s first time; he needed to be gentle, to get Peter’s subconscious addicted to this feeling.
Peter cried out as Tony slipped two lives up fingers inside of him. His hole clenched as his hips bucked. They’d done this before. After Tony trained Peter to be an expert in giving head, he’d been teasing and fingering the boy, preparing his hole for more.
“Cu-cumming-“ Peter panted.
“No,” Tony said, his finger curling up inside of the young man, “Not until I say.” He gripped Peter’s shaft and squeezed. “Remember who owns you.”
“You do, Dr. Stark,” Peter gasped. He keened as Tony thrust his fingers in and out of him. His dick throbbed in Tony’s tight grip, but he couldn’t cum - not without permission. Dr. Stark owned him, owned his mind, owned his body, all of his orgasms... everything.
Tony removed his fingers from Peter’s hole and lined up his cock. “You my good boy?” He asked.
“Yes!” Peter mewled, “I’m a good boy, I obey!”
Tony slowly pushed into Peter’s tight hole. “Again,” he said, sliding as deep as he could into the boy.
“I’m a good boy,” Peter repeated, his eyes rolling up toward the ceiling as Tony’s cock bumped against his prostate, “I obey.”
Dr. Stark kissed him, slipping his tongue into Peter’s mouth. Peter eagerly and sloppily kissed back. He bucked back against Tony, still murmuring his obedience against the man’s lips. Tony thrusted, snapping his hips hard against Peter’s body. He gripped Peter’s thighs and hoisted the boy’s body up a bit more on the couch. Peter grasped Tony’s lapels and held onto the man, softly gasping out his mantra. His body trembled with every plunge of Tony’s cock in his hole. He was tight and hot, clenching around the Doctor in an attempt to milk him.
Good boy’s obey, good boy’s get Doctor’s cock.
“D-Doctor Stark!” He moaned.
“I’m close baby,” Tony promised. He kissed Peter again, shoving in deeper. His thrusts became more erratic, faster and rough. “Cum with me!”
Peter screamed as he came, feeling his doctor spill inside of him. It was better than he ever imagine, being totally pumped full. “Oh, Doctor! Dr. Stark!” He whimpered. His dick kept jumping, spurting more and more. Tony stayed buried in him, chuckling and watching Peter fall apart. The boy hadn’t cum in weeks, thanks to Tony’s subliminal commands.
Tony gently lowered Peter’s legs, slowly pulling his cock free. Peter whimpered at the loss of it, but didn’t protest past that. Tony sat down next to him on the couch and pulled Peter into his lap. Peter melted against the doctor’s body, head dropping against Tony’s shoulders. He sighed, content and satisfied.
Now Tony had to focus on implanting more triggers and commands into Peter’s subconscious... but he would sit with the boy like this a bit longer, savoring what little time they had before the end of the session. There would be other appointments anyway - Tony had all the time he needed to make Peter his plaything.
369 notes · View notes
starkeristheendgame · 4 years
Note
If you are okay with it, I was wondering if you could do a body switch soulmate au. When you first make eye contact with your soulmate you switch bodies. You stay in each other's bodies for 24 hours. I feel like this could cause some shenanigans on both sides. Tony hasn't had to be taught anything in awhile and Peter doesn't know how to run a company.
I was a little apprehensive about this idea at first but honestly? I adore it. I am afraid, however, I took this away from the ‘humor’ pathway and plopped it straight down into ‘light angst’. Please accept my apologies for that - And I’d be happy to write something more lighthearted if this doesn’t hit the spot. Keeping your own emotions and mindset out of what you write is hard sometimes. 
Slight AU in that they meet differently to CW. 
TW: Light angst | Slight hurt 
He was going to lose his fucking mind. He could feel each one of his IQ points disintegrating as he stared at the board (an actual digital board, what fucking year were they in? 2015?) and tapped his pen restlessly on the desk. He hadn’t been to school since he was eighteen. The last time he’d been in a classroom was January, giving a motivational speech to Princeton graduates. 
He felt too small and too stifled and if this woman pronounced Epinephrine wrong one more time, he was going to launch his desk at her and snap that stupid board in half. 
Because he could do that, now. Displays of sheer power. Because Peter Parker had been bitten by a genetically modified spider and Tony was currently occupying Peter’s body. 
Soulmates were so, so overrated. 
“Hey, wonder kid. Tap that pen one more time” the girl to his left whispered, and Tony shot her a cool side-eye. MJ quirked a brow at him, equally unimpressed, and nodded to the board. Tony scowled but knew the effect was ruined by the soft, pretty baby-face he currently wore. Curse Peter and his lopsided brows and his huge eyes. Curse soulmates for existing. 
MJ was thus far the only one who’d noticed The Switch. It was only sheer coincidence that Peter and Tony both had brown eyes of a similar enough shade that the telling switch of eye colour between soulmates hadn’t given them away. MJ, however, was astoundingly attuned into her best friend, and it had only taken three minutes in her presence for her scowl at him and ask who the fuck was wearing her friend’s meatsuit. Tony had to begrudgingly admit that he could see why her and Peter were good friends. She’d looked unimpressed at his claim until he’d pulled out his (Peter’s) phone to show the frantic texts from that morning, and then she’d huffed, rolled her eyes, and dragged him to first period. 
He thought lunch would be a reprieve when it came, but instead he found himself staring with growing dismay at a tray of food that he’d refuse even if he was a prisoner, blanching in disgust when a sloppy excuse for a mac’n’cheese was dumped into one of the slots. “I’m going to die” he complained, ushered along by an unsympathetic MJ. “This is cruel. This is inhumane. Dogs don’t even get fed this”. 
“Yeah, well. You’re a billionaire, so. Put up or shut up. I have no sympathy for capitalist elitists”. And, wow, rude. But understandable. He sank down onto one of the bench seats and tried to stop his stomach from rolling at the way the meal wobbled when it was set down. He’d been poking at it for several moments, largely ignored by MJ, when a shadow fell over his table. He looked up and stared with disinterest at the sneering figure above him, before he sighed. 
“Which one are you, then? Neb? Flake?” 
“Flash” the form above him frowned, and Tony waved a dismissive hand. 
“Yeah, whatever. Class killed off half my IQ points and I’m not wasting the rest on you. Off you pop”. He turned back to his pitiful excuse of a meal, prodding the macaroni distrustfully with his fork. The boy besides him gaped, flustered, before turning on his heel and stomping off. When Tony glanced up, the girl was looking appraisingly over her book at him. 
“Maybe you should leave your balls behind. Peter could do with them” she noted, before dropping her gaze again. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
“How much money does he actually have?” 
“Sir’s total net worth including assets, liabilities and investments are currently estimated at just short of a trillion, Mr. Parker. In terms of ‘real time currently’ Sir has £515,268,385,012 as of the current hour”. 
Peter was gonna pass out. He was wearing the body of a man with five-hundred billion in the bank. He’d known Tony Stark was rich, obscenely and un-necessarily so, but that was a whole other level. Vaguely unsteady, he sank down on the plush couch, feeling a little green. It had already been a few hours since waking, but he had yet to get used to the fact that he was, for all intents and purposes, Tony Stark. 
“Does that bother you?” The artificial voice asked after a moment, sounding impossibly curious. Peter hadn’t thought AI of this level possible, but here he was, talking to a voice that was more realistic than some of the living people he knew. 
“Its...A shock, I guess. I mean, it does bother me, I suppose. Nobody needs that much money. That much cold cash alone could eradicate homelessness in America. But...I don’t know. Its his money, he earns it. He saves the world and stuff. I don’t know how you could put a value on some of the things he’s done”. 
The AI was quiet for a moment, pensive. “Sir’s ‘profession’ is high cost also, Mr. Parker. The worth of the Mark IVII alone is £6,000,500,000”. Peter thought about it for a moment, then gave in, humming softly. He supposed in that sense, having that much money kind of didn’t matter, then, when a huge chunk of it was consumed by saving the world. He’d seen how often that suit got dinged up, and had no doubt repairs and replacing parts was costly. 
“Am I allowed to get something to eat?” He asked after a moment, stomach rumbling a little. He’d spent so much time this morning freaking out and being consoled by JARVIS that he’d missed breakfast and lunch had slipped him by. 
“Of course, Mr. Parker. Several components of the kitchen are automated, but I am capable of guiding through any recipes or devices you are unfamiliar with”. 
JARVIS had apparently activated something called ‘Romeo and Juliet Protocol’ when it had been revealed that Tony had been Switched, and a large majority of the Tower was closed off and protected. Peter couldn’t leave the penthouse and JARVIS had strict control of everything, even down to the doors. Peter was happy enough to just sit there and wait it out, though. As amazing as being here was, snooping was rude, especially when what he could find could potentially compromise the entire world. 
He chose to make a simple, small sandwich which involved nothing more than a single knife and plate, marvelling at the giant fridge and the ridiculous amount of food within. Apparently Mr. Stark had a chef that stopped by once every other day with prepared meals, and was on-call for whenever he required a fresh meal without having to cook it. The produce was organic and far different to the sad, wilting lettuce that could be found at the local Cheap Fresh. 
Technically, if it was plausible, when you Switched you were supposed to follow a specific protocol set up by the Government, but Mr. Stark had ultimately lost his entire mind at discovering his soulmate was fourteen and had immediately demanded Peter stay locked up like Rapunzel while he pretended to be him for the day to throw off suspicion. Peter couldn’t deny that had hurt a little, but he understood it. Soulmates or not it would be the scandal of the century - Tony would be called all sorts of things at best and investigated at worst, and the nature of their age difference meant a lifetime of interference and monitoring by the Government and protective services. He knew it was easier to pretend it hadn’t happened, to hide it from the world. Tony had suggested a private agreement, a ridiculous sum of money in exchange for Peter’s silence. 
He realised he’d been staring morosely at his plate when JARVIS prompted him softly, and he sighed, taking a bite. There was no physical remote for the TV but JARVIS helped him to access a cache of movies and he settled on Inception, his weakness for Tom Hardy and Leonardo DiCaprio soothing the ache of his new reality. 
“Am I allowed to ask what running a business is like?” He asked after a while, head balanced on his palm. 
“In what regard, Mr. Parker?” 
“Well, I don’t know. I mean, I’m fifteen. I don’t know how to run a company, let alone run a company and be a superhero. What kinda stuff does he do? Does he attend meetings? Does he fly around the world on company retreats like in the movies?” 
JARVIS sounded lightly amused when he replied. “Sir has delegated much of the daily company operation amongst several trusted employees, but he is still the namesake, owner and CEO of Stark Industries. He does attend frequent meetings, but most of Sir’s ‘flying around the world’ is done for leisure or Iron Man related activity”. 
“Sir spends most of his time in the lab, conducting important work for both his priorities. Sir also does a respectable amount of charity work, investment work and supportive work. I believe his latest venture is funding the entirety of MIT’s PhD graduate projects”. 
Wow. That was...That would be a lot of money. And being supported by someone like Tony Stark was bound to be something to boast about, something that would fluff up your resume a little. 
“Does he enjoy it?” Peter asked after a moment, fingertips raising absently to the arc reactor in his chest. It ached constantly, a low-level background pain that never quite faded out of touch, the odd sensation of a gaping maw in his chest something that had made him heave earlier that morning. Mr. Stark was tired, burnt out, but still going. It made Peter want to spend his twenty-four hours just sleeping, to try and soothe the man’s headache. 
“Sir finds great gratification in his duties” JARVIS replied quietly, though he did not specify which. Peter gave a hum and succumbed to the desire to nap, curled up on the corner of the couch with Inception fading quietly into the background. 
He ate again when he woke up, and blinked when he saw the time. Mr. Stark’s phone had been heavily locked down, but he could still access the message channel between this number and his own. The messages there were disheartening. 
Told your hot Aunt I’m staying at that Nate kids house tonight. I’ll be coming to the Tower, but you won’t see me. I’ll stay on the level below.
Sorry, kid. Seeing someone else wearing me like a Givenchy suit is just too head-spinning. 
JARVIS will keep you safe up there. We switch back at midnight, so try and get some sleep. You’ll wake up as yourself and I’ll get the plan in motion. 
“JARVIS, when was the last time Mr. Stark cried?” He asked timidly, and the AI was silent for a moment. 
“Four years ago, Mr. Parker”. 
“Oh,” he breathed out, vision blurring. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’m about to ruin that” and he let the teardrops fall.
206 notes · View notes
starkerisendgame · 4 years
Note
Hi! This is weird to ask but can you make a starker fic with Peter being a camboy and he doesn't know that his idol is watching his shows. Eventually when Tony figures out that Peter is Spider-Man, he goes to Peters apartment like in the movie and they chat. After the whole civil war is over, Tony proposes to be Peters Sugar daddy. P.s. Love your fics 😘❤
I hope this is what you wanted! I’m so sorry WIPs are taking me a long time, I’m working across three accounts and I’m finishing up in college for the semester. Thank you sm for such an invigorating, exciting prompt!
TW: Breathplay/Choking | Daddy kink | Online sex work/sexual cam work | Overstimulation | Age difference | Secret voyeurism
[P.2]
Struggling financially sucked in general. Being a struggling student was even worse; because supplies weren’t cheap and textbook price tags made him whimper and there was only so much ramen a guy could eat before looking at the packets made him want to headbutt a metal spork.
Arguably worse, though, was being a struggling student who spent most of his nights running around as Spiderman, using expensive chemicals for his web formula (there was only so much he could steal from the school) and constantly having to repair his suit. Not to mention the eye-watering medical bills on the very rare times he actually dragged himself to hospital.
All in all, whilst he enjoyed his life; he also spent most of it envying the people who didn’t have to choose between their water bill and a new winter coat. Or patching up their secret superhero suit and eating something other than instant noodles for the rest of the month. When he’d received a message on his Instagram account from a supposed ‘director of entertainment’, alongside a link to what had turned out to be sexual camshow website, well. He’d almost immediately marked it as spam and moved on.
Except.
Peter had always been complimented on his looks. His ‘pretty face’ and the lithe way his body had developed, trim little waist and strong arms. His plush mouth and his wide eyes. At first it was as a young child, doe-eyed and chubby-cheeked. How cute other parents would coo, prodding at his long lashes and his tight little curls.
As a young teen, there had been some negatives thrown in. Sneers at his slightly feminine looks. Though it hadn’t stopped him from brawling about on the football field or going through that horrible phase where he didn’t give two genuine fucks about his clothing. Girls had asked if he wore mascara, if he curled his hair, had giggled over how pretty he was.
As a young adult, Peter’s looks were both a bane and a privilege. He had endless compliments, advances, all the sex he could want (and didn’t accept). People bought him drinks or let him buy the last of something at a bat of his lashes. And in turn, people sneered at him and called him gay. Told him he needed to ‘man up’ and that a face like that didn’t belong on a boy. He got carded for everything and the time the delivery guy for his dildo asked him for ID would forever be the single worst moment of his life.
And the sexual remarks…Well. Peter stared at his phone, at the site address typed into the search bar but unpressed, biting nervously at his lip. He’d been told before he’d be good at porn. That he was good looking enough to do things like sell nudes, or model. And it brought in a lot of money, even for basic stuff, right?
He hit send.
And that was how Tony found SpiderTwink2001. Not very creative on Peter’s part, but then again, the boy hadn’t actually expected his profile to go anywhere. At first it was filled with meh quality shots from his phone. Awkward playing the camera and fumbled editing as he learned.
But then he taught himself and used what spare money he could find doing odd-jobs and as thank yous from the people he saved as Spiderman and bought himself a pretty basic DSLR recording camera. Some mid-quality editing software and his videos became clearer. Smoother. He learned how to talk as though the camera was his partner and learned what angles worked.
By the end of the year, SpiderTwink2001 was the 55th most popular blog on the entire site, and Tony Stark was invested.
He hadn’t meant to find it. Not at first. Well. He’d been looking for porn, obviously, but he’d stumbled across Peter’s blog after searching for close up videos, full on scotch and overcome with the sudden desire to watch a cute little ass stretch open around a cock.
He was barely on page three by the time he found the video, apparently one of the guy’s most popular shoots. It begun with a shot of his lower back and the fat, round swell of his ass, sitting above one of the largest dildos Tony had seen in a while. A little bubble in the lower hand corner of the video informed him the toy was almost four inches in circumference, and almost eight inches in length. His own cock, of similar measurement, immediately made its presence known.
The boy begun to sink down in a controlled, slow movement, the camera at just the perfect angle to catch the toy’s shimmery blue body disappearing slowly, so slowly into the welcome embrace. The softest, sweetest moan Tony had ever heard drifted from the holo-screen, high and keening as the boy just kept sinking down, swallowing the toy inch by inch. The camera zoomed in as the boy then begun to lean forwards, bending the dildo and giving the camera a HD view of where it was hidden in the plush depths of his ass.
“Kid’s good” Tony grunted, digging a heel into the bulge of his cock. Knew how to perform. The kid was breathy but not the overly fake every-second-of-the-video moan/scream sounds that most porn contained. Just the odd sound at suitable intervals that had Tony sinking lower in his bed, thighs parting as he kneaded lazily at his arousal.
The boy rode the toy at a torturous pace, so much so that even Tony was impatient in his pleasure, intent on watching the video until it ended, but not wanting to cum too quickly into it. The boy’s raw little rim stretched around the toy, rosy and tight as he bounced and ground in turn. Greedily clinging to the toy on each upwards motion, swallowing it down with ease on each downward. He was a pretty thing, shaved and clean with tight, round little balls. Strong thighs when the video panned out a little.
About mid-way through Tony let his head fall back, lifted his hips to let his cock flop free of his boxers and against his hip, his own pre-cum hot on his skin as he reached down, wrapped long fingers around a longer length and squeezed just enough to stave the ache. On the screen the face-less boy had sunk deep onto the dildo and was rocking on it, no doubt grinding his prostate as just visible between his legs, he pumped his cock in time to his movements.
The boy was letting out desperate little unfs with each motion, quiet, almost like he was not home alone. Tony stroked himself firm and slow, more feeling the length than doing anything about the way it drooled over his stomach. The video still had a way to go, and he wanted to be there for the end of it.
Tony breathed out as he watched the boy, who was riding his sweet spot like he’d die if he didn’t. Tony found himself responding each time a sweet, high little moan or whimper came from his speakers, stripping his cock in time to the way the boy’s hips began to twist and grind faster.
And then the boy was slowing, staving off his pleasure, and rising to his knees. Tony was about to spit a curse - because how cruel was this? - When the camera cut, and the scene stole his breath away, fingers locking around the base of his cock.
Now, the boy’s front was to the camera, hips pushed forwards, low on his haunches so the dildo was bent backwards into his pert little body, the boy’s round, small balls resting on its base. His cock was a true thing of beauty, petite and slender, cut neatly. The tip was dusky pink and sheened with slick.
His hips rolled sensually five more times, and that pretty, pink dick jerked against a taut stomach and prominent hips, a cracked cry filling Tony’s ears and pearly globs of cum splattered against that slender stomach and began to dribble down the muscles slowly. Tony spat a curse and his hips hips lifted in response, barely managing to lift his shirt out of the way of his own cum.
It got worse from there. He followed SpiderTwink2001, and found it was his go-to blog. When he was tense and full of adrenaline after missions. When he came home from Galas in need of stress relief. When some little shit riled him up with no intentions of following through.
That pert little ass and pretty little cock almost became akin to an addiction. Tony set up a software that would send him an alert on any new videos, found that he’d more or less abandoned any and all other porn in favour of watching the boy, who never showed his face but was still the body behind all of Tony’s wet dreams.
He was in a meeting when his phone vibrated softly, just enough to draw his attention, in the specific three-beat pattern that he’d designated to SpiderTwink2001′s alerts. He sucked in a sharp breath and risked a glance across the room, making sure that Pepper was watching the slides and not him before he risked sneaking his phone from his pocket, just enough to see the top portion of the screen.
SpiderTwink2001: Face Reveal.
Tony nearly dropped his phone, leg jerking up and knee banging into the underside of the table. He spat a curse, cringing as he looked up to find the rest of the room eyeing him warily.
Except for Pepper. She eyed him like she was mentally throttling him with great sincerity.
“Lab stuff. Continue” he dismissed, waving a hand. The poor marketing employee was only three words into her sentence when he abruptly stood. “Actually, I’ve changed my mind. Continue, I just won’t be here”.
“Tony fucking Stark, sit down or I-”
“Will be receiving a very big gift basket very soon. Do enjoy the lunch!” Tony hastened to cut her off, darting passed before Pepper’s manicured nails could snag his arm. He could feel the irritation radiating off her, and vowed to upgrade her gift basket from ‘very big’ to ‘the biggest’.
He was barely in the safety of his own penthouse when he was waving up the holo screen, hands already unbuckling his suit pants as he moved towards the expensive couch. As an afterthought he asked JARVIS to lock down his floor, sinking onto the plush seat with a groan as he set SpiderTwink’s video to the screen.
It began with just a body shot, the boy naked save for a pair of sleek black shorts, like he’d been at the gym or in bed before deciding to make this. And then he began to talk. SpiderTwink’s voice was soft and lilted, a little higher than most men’s, but delicious to Tony’s ears. He’d heard that voice mewling out ‘Daddy, please!’ More times than he could count.
“Okay. Uh. So I mean this is kinda two things? At once. Two reveals, I guess. Firstly, I’ve decided to branch out into camming, and doing live shows. Which is kinda why I’m doing this video”.
Tony’s fingers stilled over his buckle, both invested and mildly disappointed. Clearly this wasn’t going to be a porny kind of face reveal, but it still meant getting to see the visage that belonged to every wet fantasy from the past four months. He let his hands fall away and shifted to get comfortable instead, listening intently.
“And, uh. I mean, I can’t really stop any of you trying to like, stalk me on Facebook and stuff, really. But…Please don’t? Its kinda weird, and-”
The talking continued for a little while, endless, cute rambling that bounced from topic to topic. Tony increased the volume and went to get himself a scotch, buckling his belt again as he went. He was back on the couch when the boy sucked in a sharp breath, stomach muscles flexing, and reached for the camera.
Tony brought the scotch to his lips for a slow pull, and inhaled the burning amber liquid when the single prettiest boy he’d ever seen blinked owlishly at the camera, nervous and shy.
He had a slender face, with a strong jaw and prominent cheeks. That was about as much as Tony could notice behind the blurring of his eyes, waving for the video to pause as he hacked a series of coughs, thumping at his chest.
“Sir, do you need-”
“No! No” Tony wheezed, shaking his head. Several more moments of feeling like someone had dropped a petrol bomb into his lungs, and he sank back against the couch, wiping his eyes and motioning for the video to continue. SpiderTwink gave him a sheepish, meek smile, like apologising for the incident.
“So. Uh. Hi”.
Hi indeed.
The boy had slightly mismatched eyebrows, one ticking upwards midway through, but it gave him a sweet, inquisitive look. He had a wide mouth and even wider eyes, dark brown and framed by thick lashes. He screamed pretty as much as strong, as Tony knew from his lithe, toned figure. Tony paused the video just to stare at him a little longer, transfixed.
Somehow, knowing he was so invested in someone so attractive only served to make it even better. The kid almost seemed too good to be true, such a perfect little body and a pretty face to boot. His fingers itched to type the command, to find out everything he could on the boy, but whilst he was somewhat of a pervert, he wasn’t a creep. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming against his whiskey tumbler.
“JARVIS. I want to be notified the instant this kid goes live. Every single time. I don’t care if I’m mid-battle or mid-meeting” Tony instructed, then he paused, and raised his free hand to rub at his jaw. “And hide any financial connections to this from Pep. And Rhodey. In fact…Make another ghost account. I don’t want another lecture”.
“Of course, Sir” JARVIS responded diplomatically, and Tony shifted, clicking off the video and onto one of his personal favourites. His cock had immediately perked up at the kid’s face, and wasn’t going anywhere soon. Besides, now that he could imagine that pretty little mouth and those gorgeous eyes while watching the kid fuck himself stupid, the videos were just so much better.
“Lock down all communications. I don’t want any interruptions for the next 60 minutes” Tony commanded as he began to open his belt buckle, tongue sliding across his lower lip in anticipation.
425 notes · View notes