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readysetstarker · 4 years

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will you write peter and wanda seducing a very guilty tony together? everyone seems to forget that wanda is also a super young hero with daddy issues

i know i said i was going to post this last night but my family and i ended up watching that tiger king documentary on nextflix when i got home from work and i needed a good break. also, i got distracted. please do not trust me ever. but it’s finally here! if you still follow me then honestly, i don’t know what to say, you’re the most patient and gracious soul there is.

also, no sex scene for this one. i made several attempts at writing a threesome scene and it just did not pan out. i hated every single one. so y’all just get the buildup on this one. sorry to disappoint.

warnings: peter and wanda are 20+, established starker. pining, lingerie, potential threesome. shy!wanda and enabling!peter.

—

After Peter noticed the first sign, things became more obvious. He could no longer ignore them when they popped up; small as they were, he was finding it easier and easier to catch them. Sometimes they were little glances towards Tony’s lips, a look that lasted just a second too long, or a helping hand in the field that was a touch faster than Peter’s own. Tony had been surprised the first time, still taking it, but the novelty had eventually worn off.

Peter saw the intent behind it, even if Tony didn’t.

He didn’t mind; Peter was aware of the effect Tony had on people, whether they wanted him to or not. It had only been a matter of time before it finally happened:

Wanda Maximoff was falling, and crashing, for Tony Stark.

Peter took to watching her for some time, eyes focused on her face during each interaction. She would spontaneously show up in the lab with food for both of them, but she would hover around Tony and ask him what he thought of the flavor. During nights where the team drank and mingled and ribbed each other after PR events in the tower, her eyes almost never left Tony.

(Once, she noticed Peter watching her, and only then did she restrain herself and duck her gaze. Had she looked for a second longer, she would have seen an amused smile grace his lips rather than the mirthful or jealous scowl she might have expected.)

He supposed it needed addressing, and what better time to do so than to ambush her in the kitchen while she was making a bowl of popcorn for a movie night. Clint had insisted on Pulp Fiction, despite multiple protests, and Peter wasn’t exactly enraptured by the movie choice. He pretended to be inspired by Wanda’s snack choice to get away from Tony, stealing a quick kiss and promising to coat it in a little extra butter just for him.

Wanda was standing by the microwave, dark blue plastic bowl in hand, focused on the bag spinning and popping in front of her.

Peter had barely taken two steps before she said, without turning to him, “I’m not planning on stepping between you two.”

Her voice was quiet enough that the others wouldn’t pick it up over their bickering of movie choices, but Peter had no problem hearing her. Whatever insult Sam threw at Bucky went completely ignored as he moved to the counter near her and picked out an un-popped popcorn bag of his own. He flipped it around in his hands while waiting on hers to finish.

“I wasn’t going to say anything about that,” Peter lied. He watched her from the corners of his eyes. She purposely looked down at the bowl in her hands, fingering tracing the edge and curled as though she was going to perform magic on it.

“I can read minds, Peter. I know what you’re thinking.” She picked at a loose sliver of plastic hanging off the rim. It bent and twisted under a red furl of her magic until it snapped off. “It is nothing but a fascination. I’ll get over it.”

Nothing but a fascination. It sounded awfully close to the rejection Peter’s first confession got him.

“You really won’t. I know Tony, and if he’s got to you, you’ve got it bad.” Peter chuckled, hoping she would catch the joke. A friendly jab with his elbow wasn’t well-received. She cowered away, and Peter decided to change his approach.

He cleared his throat and tore at the plastic covering over his unpopped bag.

“I’m not upset, or mad,” he said. “I don’t even blame you, I mean, you have seen him, right?” That earned him a small smile, even as she folded her lips in and tried to hide it. Peter grinned and continued. “I think we can arrange something, if you want.”

The microwave signaled that Wanda’s popcorn was ready, and she missed her cue to retrieve it in favor of gawping at Peter’s words, mouth hung open, brows disappearing beneath the veil of her brown hair. She blinked, closed her mouth, opened it again. For someone with few words during missions, seeing her speechless now was oddly satisfying.

“What does that— I mean, Peter, you can’t be-be serious,” she stammered. When the microwave beeped at her, a reminder that her food was ready, she hastily retrieved it and began to pour it into her bowl. “I’m not coming between you and Stark. I know you’re committed to each other.”

“‘Commitment’ doesn’t mean exclusivity all the time,” Peter amended. He stuck his bag into the microwave and set it spinning before he turned towards her. She was clutching her bowl now, painted fingers digging into the curve of it.

“I couldn’t. Stark, despite everything we’ve been through, has been good to me. I don’t want to risk angering him or ruining what you two have, or making him feel uncomfortable.” Wanda pulled her bowl to her chest. “I’m sorry if I’ve done any of those things.”

Peter reached out, taking her arm, startling her but stopping her from retreating. She nearly let go of her bowl.

“Wait, Wanda. No one’s upset with you.” Peter shot a quick look into the lounge area. The argument has dissipated for now, replaced instead with laughter and a smart comment from Bruce. (Peter missed the context.) He lowered his voice and gently stepped into her space. Warily, she allowed him to.

“Just, hear me out, okay?” Peter said. He squeezed her arm. “I just want to propose something to you. There’s no pressure to say yes, no consequences to saying no. Just an idea I’ve had. And if you say no, you’re still free to stare at my boyfriend. He has a nice face and a nice ass, and I stare at them pretty often, too.”

Wanda’s laugh was nothing but a huff of breath through her nose, but it was accompanied by a small, awkward smile. Progress. He was getting somewhere.

“So,” he started, ignoring both the beep of the microwave and the summoning yell from Tony that their new movie choice was starting up, “Tony’s birthday is in twelve days…”

—

Hiding the lingerie purchase from Tony had been leagues easier than either of them was expecting. Tony would get notifications if any of his cards were used, and Peter had seen him brush the emails aside to allow Peter his privacy. He didn’t mind Peter spending his money every now and then, and he didn’t make a habit of hovering over every purchase or demanding receipts.

But Peter couldn’t blame Tony when he had seen the shop’s name and given him a very intense stare. Peter did his best to deflect and act nonchalant, as if buying women's lingerie was a normal purchase amongst limited-edition LEGO kits and nights out with Ned, MJ, Betty, and Liz.

The silent and amused smirk on Tony’s face had him caving; he could give his boyfriend something, he supposed, just enough to get Tony off his back without ruining the surprise.

“It’s for your birthday,” he explained. Tony’s brows rose while Peter pushed away the notification himself. He didn’t want Tony opening the email and reading the receipt. The size would require more explanation.

“For my birthday?” Tony repeated, pulling Peter into his lap and placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. Peter allowed himself to be pulled down. He slipped his arms around Tony’s shoulders. “Will it even fit? I mean, you didn’t ask me for my cup size.”

“Oh, my god, I hate you so much.”

Tony chuckled as Peter pushed against him and made as thought he was going to leave. He let Tony to pull him back down and kiss him. “Well, whatever it is you have planned, I’m very excited to see it.”

“Good.” Peter pried Tony’s hands off of his hips. “But you get no other hints until your birthday. I’m not spoiling anything else for you.”

Tony pretended to pout, but Peter just smiled at him and kissed him again before escaping Tony’s lap and moving to work on replenishing his stock of web fluid.

When Wanda came down to deliver them boxes of hot, freshly-ordered Chinese, he could feel her magic creep into his mind, let her pull the information about his talk with Tony, and smiled when he felt her surprise at Tony’s response. He shot a wink over his shoulder and watched her cheeks burn the same color as her shirt. And she had been so worried about his reaction. If anything, this should have helped her feel more confident about it.

The package was set to be delivered two days before Tony’s birthday, and two days before they would execute their plan. So long as Wanda didn’t suddenly get cold feet.

—

At Peter’s request, the rest of the team made themselves scarce on the evening of Tony’s birthday. To avoid suspicion, Wanda hid away in her room with the package Peter and her had ordered and waited for the others to disappear before daring to come out. Any questions about her whereabouts, Peter had deflected by coming up with some story about a weekend of seclusion to work on strengthening her powers. No more questions came from it.

Also part of Peter’s request was for the others to leave Tony be in his workshop; the man wasn’t exactly his own biggest fan, and thus, wasn’t too keen on celebrating his own birthday. Only in recent years had he allowed it to become something of a holiday, and only at Peter’s own insistence.

Tony spent his entire day working on his suits while Peter and Wanda did their best to prepare for their gift. Candles were set in Tony’s bedroom, lit precariously with little crimson flames, and Peter helped her pull the lingerie on when it was finally time.

Wanda had tried it on the same day it came in, refusing to allow Peter to see in case he said or did something that wore down her nerves and made her change her mind.

Now, she was wishing he had made the suggestion sooner, or asked for his assistance when she first donned it. For one, he had helped her pull it down and straighten everything out when she hadn’t been able to do it herself, and the dark red, leopard-print babydoll dress looked far better than her rushed attempt at fitting into it. It hugged her just right, the print helping to exaggerate the curves of her hip.The two black bows that connected the straps to the dress looked a little silly, now that she really looked at it.

But the look in Peter’s eyes when she caught them in the mirror helped assuage some of her own doubts.

“Holy shit,” he said, voice breathless when she turned.

Though her breasts were smaller than the model’s, it still seemed to be cut to fit her chest size; her nipples stood out amongst the spots of the sheer fabric. Even though he had brushed away her shyness when he originally suggested helping her into the dress, his eyes still drifted down to them.

She wore a black thong beneath the dress, since both of them forgot about buying something underneath to match. The black garter belts and stockings made up for the mismatching lingerie. Wanda had almost thought about asking Natasha to borrow a pair of her heels. Almost. But the thought of anyone else knowing what was about to go down between the three of them was too much for her to stand.

Peter blinked, bringing his eyes back up to her face. “Wanda, you look amazing.”

“You think so?” Wanda turned back to the mirror in her bathroom. She pinpointed each and every imperfection in her reflection, stopped immediately by Peter’s arms snaking around her waist and his chin resting on her shoulder.

“I know so. And Spider-Man never lies. It’s illegal for him, in fact. Instant jail time.”

Wanda snorted, and her arms, wrapped protectively around her chest, dropped to her sides. Peter pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and smiled.

“See? You look great. Gorgeous.”

Wanda nodded, releasing a heavy breath. Peter kissed her cheek before pulling away.

“I’m going to go get Tony, okay? Wait here.”

Wanda’s fingers drummed nervously against the countertop while she waited for Peter to return, trying and failing not to find every little possible flaw in her hair or makeup (or body, in general) in the mirror. She brushed a stray eyelash from her cheek and paced, messed her hair up only to brush it out again. A quiet assurance from Friday that she looked lovely followed with no prompting, but it did help her fight the way her heart was racing in her chest.

Her escape plan was already in the planning stages by the time she heard voices in the adjoining bedroom, laughter and stumbling feet. She twisted her hair in her fingers.

Approaching footsteps kickstarted her heartbeat, and she must have looked ghostly when Peter opened the bathroom door because he approached and gave her cheeks a pinch.

“If you still want to bail out, you can at any point,” Peter whispered. He took her hands in his. “Even if Tony says yes, you can leave. At any point.”

“I want this,” Wanda said, her own voice just a breath. “I’m just… nervous.”

Peter smiled and gave both her hands a squeeze before carefully leading her out into the bedroom where Tony waited, perched on the side of the bed, leaned back and cradling a glass of amber liquor in his right hand. Wanda wanted to reach out and read his mind, but Tony knew what her magic felt like. She didn’t want to give herself away, not as Peter was ordering Tony to keep his eyes shut and not to peek.

Tony’s response went unheard over Wanda’s own heartbeat in her ears.

Peter had Tony close his legs, thighs spread far apart in anticipation for his young lover’s return, and helped Wanda settle herself onto Tony’s lap with her thighs on each side. Tony’s hand was warm on her thigh, and the pad of his thumb instantly found the thin garter belt running the top curve of her thigh.

Peter’s hand on his wrist stopped him from venturing further, but Tony’s lips quirked up. He remembered the lingerie.

“Got something special planned for you, babe,” Peter said, and he used his other hand to guide Wanda’s to rest against Tony’s chest. That seemed to throw him off, brow pinching together. Wanda was almost worried he would open his eyes, but Tony held out.

“Peter,” Tony said, and it sounded like a question beginning to form.

“I told you I was putting something special together for you.” Wanda felt Peter’s hand at her back, gentle circles rubbed into her shoulder. “What do you say, Wanda? Should we let Tony open his present?”

Tony’s eyes snapped open that moment, and to her own credit, she didn’t sound so scared when she nodded and answered, “Can’t keep him waiting all night, can we?”

#starker #peter parker x tony stark x wanda maximoff #my work #nff #kinda #what pairing do i even tag this as #Anonymous

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ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 4 years

Text

This Too Shall Last

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Notes: This is based off of @dumb-bitch-starker‘s post that you can find here! I saw it and had to try my hand at it. I’ve got some personal experience with marriage young, so it was a fun one! Warnings: NSFW stuff - lots of fluff, be ready! Summary:

Peter Parker is from a small town in rural Virginia. After winning the National Spelling Bee, he's given the opportunity to go to an advanced private school. Midtown is where he meets Tony Stark, a brown haired boy with an affinity of beating him to the punch. They grow up together and find that what they were looking for wasn't all that far away. This is the story of how these two move from friends to boyfriends to husbands.

Or, the one where Peter Parker is a genius and has an epic friendship turned romance with Tony Stark.

Read it on AO3 here

For Peter, being smart was his foot in the door to a world that for the longest time, he could only imagine. In the town he lived in with is Aunt, there was one school that catered to all of the grades, K-12. There were two stop lights and a singular gas station nestled in the heart of town. Aside from a handful of transplants, most of the town’s population consisted of long lines of families and those that were establishing them. May still had her mail delivered to her by the same man from her later childhood.

All and all – getting out of that place was the only option and luckily – Peter was blessed with the means to do it.

After winning the National Spelling Bee at the young age of 6, Peter got several scholarship offers for some of the private schools around the Virginia area. It would have been nice to actually get away from his little town and go to one of the more prestigious ones – but May needed him around and could only truly afford to see him go 45 minutes away instead of the several hours some of the other schools offered.

Midtown Private catered to the rich of the Virginia Beach area – Peter understood that immediately. Even as a young kid, he realized that his old backpack and battered shoes were something completely different compared to the people around him. It didn’t take a genius (even though he was,) to catch onto the fact that everyone else had drivers drop them off – he watched them file out of their pretty cars from the bus stop every morning. There wasn’t much to be done, though – the opportunity was there, and he planned to take it.

Despite all of the differences between him and the rest of the student population, Peter excelled. After a few days in his second-grade class, it was obvious that the people around him were also of another caliber in the classroom. In his old school, he spent most of his days completely bored. Since the first day at Midtown, Peter felt challenged – his brain finally stretched the way it needed to be. His classmates were able and more than willing to participate in the classroom. A brown-haired boy with quick hands beat him to the punch a lot of the time – but he didn’t mind, there was something to be said about someone just as interested in the information.

At the end of his first week, Peter found out who the brown-haired boy was. His eyes were still wide from the initial shock of walking into a lab that he could fit his entire house into. There were so many different tools and instruments he’d never seen before – things that he couldn’t wait to get his hands on. It looked like a scene out of some of his favorite science fiction movies that played late at night. He sat down at the closest cluster of chairs and looked around with marvel.

The chair at the desk next to him moving on the floor brought him out of his excitement induced trance – he cracked a smile when the brown-haired boy sat down. “You’re the new kid, right?” he asked – the question rattled off without an ounce of hesitation. There weren’t many kids his age that behaved that way; his difficulty making friends stemmed from a lot of things and that was one of them. Tilting his head, Peter took him in for a moment.

“Yeah, I’m Peter,” he finally replied, his body shifting slightly in the seat to see the other kid a little more clearly.

They met eyes for the first time then, the brown of the other’s eyes reminding him the color of milk chocolate melting on the stove. For some reason, that made him feel a little calmer – the hue reminding him so much of fondue night with May.

The kid was smiling at him, his hands flipping open the folder he pulled out of his bag. “Hi. My mom makes me introduce myself as Anthony – but that name is stupid, so just call me Tony.” While he spoke, he slipped a worksheet in front of Peter.

“Do you like science like you like math?” Tony asked him, his eyes looking at the sheet briefly, then straying back in Peter’s direction. It felt weird, having someone understand his likes without evening knowing him – Tony pinpointed him just by observing. He wondered, not for the last time in his life, just what else Tony effortlessly observed about him.

Glancing down at the paper, his eyes lit up when he recognized the microscope on it. Just last Christmas, he got a small lab set that came with beakers and a microscope – he spent hours taking it apart and putting it back together for many weeks after that. The reading level of what he was looking at surpassed even what a class like this would provide for them – so he was immediately excited.

“I love science. I’m going to go to space one day,” Peter muttered, his eyes still looking over the paper in front of him. He wondered where Tony got it – the board at the front of the room said they were looking at the different types of rocks and there wasn’t an accessible microscope in sight. “This is a light microscope, right? What are you looking at with it?” He finally pulled himself away from the difficult information, his brain on fire.

He couldn’t tell if Tony was on the verge of excitement or blowing up at him, the look on his face a little unreadable. “You want to go to space? I want to build rockets. I’ve been trying to read through a book about Apollo 13 – but that words are kind of hard.” He shrugged then, his hand reaching over to take the sheet back from Peter’s desk.

“I don’t know what I’m going to look at yet – my dad said I needed to learn more about it before I could touch his expensive equipment.” Tony made the infamous air quotes and rolled his eyes – the look on his face making Peter laugh.

“My aunt says stuff like that, too. She bought me a starter lab kit last year for Christmas – and I’m terrified to break it. I may never get anything cool ever again, if I do.” He crinkled his nose, the thought making his brain hurt a little. “I’ve taken the microscope in it apart and put it back together a bunch of times – I can help you, if you want,” Peter added in after a second, his eagerness in the suggestion apparent.

Tony took a second to answer back – his cheeks were turned up in a smile, but he stayed silent, regardless. “Okay,” he said simply, a soft look on his face. “Sit with me at lunch – I want you to tell me more about this lab kit.”

That day was forever engrained in Peter’s head – he later came to find out that Tony, who was Tony Stark, son of Howard Stark, the frontrunner in plane, boat, and submarine technology and construction – was the smartest and most sought after friend in the entire school. People did not talk to him for weeks after they sat together that first day at lunch. It was laughable that something as silly as that was the thing that made him an outsider.

For years, Peter ran in the same circle as Tony in a lot of ways. From that fateful day in science on, Tony sought Peter out as a lab partner. Even being in a school where everything was advanced, both boys were more than capable of bigger things. Tony invited Peter to his dad’s lab every now and again – despite how much May hated having to drop him off at the fancy gate whenever he went.

After proving his worth and commitment to thorough research and a safe approach, Tony got access to a lot of cool things; a few of these things he shared with Peter. Between third and sixth-grade, Peter and Tony built a different (and progressively more advanced) robot each year for the science fair. Being friendly with someone like Tony was like being shown a different world; both the boy’s personality and background contributed to that, too. He learned something new about the boy every instance they spent any time together.

Middle brought the ability to do extracurricular activities – an opportunity in which Peter took complete advantage of. Enjoying the robot building process so much, Tony convinced him to join the Robotics team. He also found himself recruited to the track and field team after a startlingly fast mile during physical fitness week. Both activities were so much more than he ever thought imaginable for himself – so he went above and beyond to be amazing at them.

Running came naturally to him, he quickly came to find out. All of his middle school years were spent going to conference, regional, and national meets. The year before entering into high school, Peter broke the 1500-meter record and won a middle school national championship. Walking onto a new campus the next year, Peter found himself embraced by the teammates he had previously and the new ones he gained – not for the first time, he felt surprised by the odd dynamic of the people he luckily found himself surrounded by.

The opportunity to get ahead in college came around his junior year. He took all of the AP science classes and passed with ease, so there wasn’t much left in his high school to take – a select few that were of similar academic standing were cleared to take dual enrollment classes that would count as college credit. There were tons of science he was going to need in college, the ability to knock out a few of them was too hard to pass up.

He barely made it to the early college campus before his first class started late one September – the bus was running behind again and had been all week. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Peter took a seat towards the back of the class – the person next to him none other than Tony Stark. “I thought I’d see you here,” Tony mumbled towards him as he settled in, the now very, very, very handsome boy’s cheeks curling up into a grin. “Did you have to run to get here?

Looking around for a second, Peter noticed there wasn’t much happening – the front of the class empty, no professor in sight. “From the bus stop, yes. The earlier buses always run a little late,” he explained, his chest finally relaxing, the tightness ceasing now that he wasn’t running at full speed, anymore. It felt good to sit down after that.

“That’s no bueno, Pete – I need my lab partner fresh and on his toes. You can ride with me,” Tony stated, his voice definitive, the tone just barely shy of being bossy. “We’re both going to the same place – I don’t mind.” He finished his words with a smile, the look enough to make him laugh a little.

There wasn’t any reason not to accept the offer – the thought of not having to take the bus four times every day sounded pretty dang good. “Okay – if you really don’t mind.” Peter reached across and placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder, his fingers tightening. “Thanks, Tony,” he murmured, his eyes alight.

Tony tilted his head a little, brown eyes watching Peter closely for a second before he nodded – his eyebrows arching. “I really don’t mind. You’re welcome, Pete.” As he spoke, the door opened and the professor walked in, everyone in the class straightening up – the authority of the person at the front of the class still respected at their age.

For the rest of the day, Peter didn’t think too much about Tony or his offer, there were too many interesting things being thrown his way. It wasn’t until they finished their Biochemistry lab that Peter even remembered the offer. Tony caught up to him out in the hallway, his glasses slipping down his nose a little when he stopped in front of Peter. “You don’t have practice until later, right? Want to study for a bit? I’ll take you back when we’re finished. That lab report could use a little work before we turn it in tomorrow,” Tony spoke with such confidence, the quirk in his lips natural looking, not forced like it might’ve been on Peter himself.

The glance down at his wrist was unnecessary, without looking at his watch, he knew it was pushing 2. He wouldn’t need to be back to the high school until 4:30 and with a ride, he didn’t have to worry about catching the bus. “That sounds okay to me – I think I finally figured out how to do the last problem set,” Peter replied, his thumbs slipping under the straps of his backpack. “I think I saw some good reference books when I was in the library yesterday. Let’s head that way.”

That afternoon started a chain reaction of studying together every day after class, the two of them nose deep in books until Peter’s alarm went off. The first couple of times it happened, the dirty looks were numerous – then they got smart about it. Since they were in the early college program, classes ended at the same time every day – so, they rented out a study room and spent the two hours in there, instead. The whiteboards were good for everything they were trying to accomplish, anyway.

One afternoon about halfway through the semester, Peter walked out of his last period lecture hall completely done in. Practice the day before kicked his butt and they were running low on food in the house. He snuck in a granola bar earlier – and his metabolism demolished it before he could even think about being at least somewhat satisfied. School breakfast that morning ran out a earlier than usual, so he was feeling it.

When Tony stepped up to his side a couple of minutes later, Peter looked at him blankly. “I don’t think I’ve got it in me to study today, Tony – I’m exhausted. And starving. Mostly starving, honestly,” Peter babbled, his right hand settling on his stomach – he hoped if he got there fast enough, the growl wouldn’t sound between them.

Peter rolled his eyes when they both heard the gurgle – a spot of red pressing into both of his cheeks almost instantly. He pressed against his stomach a little more firmly then, his thoughts willing the damn thing to shut the hell up. Chancing a glance up, Peter was surprised to see empathy in Tony’s eyes. Despite knowing him relatively well, there was no real way of anticipating how the boy would react – Tony worked on a scale of differing levels of sarcasm. He figured it would take the rest of his life to truly understand the rules to Tony’s game – but it felt good to see the other at least respond positively to his insignificant troubles.

“We’re so caught up on everything, Pete – I’m sure the library can do without us for the day. Do you want to go grab some food? There’s this place, Chester’s, they make the best burgers.” Tony spoke while he fidgeted with his hands, his body much like his mind – always moving, never quite satisfied.

At the mention of food, Peter’s stomach growled again, his mouth watering, too. There were a few dollars in his pocket, the idea of using it to afford food sounded like an excellent one. He nodded his head excitedly, eyes bulging a little. “Yes, that would be amazing. I’d eat your shoe if you seasoned it right. A burger sounds delicious,” Peter agreed, his feet already antsy to start moving towards the door and closer to the food.

It took a little while to get used to driving around in Tony’s fancy car. The contrast to May’s broken-down Chevy made his stomach churn a bit – but on the other hand, he got a little excited about it, too. The black Audi drove like a dream and had an engine that could easily become something too fast for its own good. The inner console was completely touchscreen and the family AI, FRIDAY, could be reached with the controls. One day he expected to walk out to a car that would drive itself.

Settling into the passenger seat, Peter felt better than he did all day and tried not to think too hard about that. In the past couple of months, Peter’s feelings about Tony went from neutral to completely over the hill for him. It wasn’t hard to feel that way about the other, though – Peter knew that from being in school with him so long.

Girls and boys alike would trip over their feet to get his attention. Yet, no one managed to catch it. Tony kept to himself for as long as Peter could remember – no matter how much people wanted him, he didn’t budge. Now that he was starting to feel the same way about the other boy, his stomach felt a little funny – like a weird mixture between giving a speech and watching Batman on TV.

There wasn’t any hope for his silly feelings to be returned, Peter knew that. He couldn’t claim to be a genius without understanding the reality of the situation in front of him. Even still, Peter was unable to keep a lid on it and found himself smiling over at Tony more in the last three weeks than in their entire existence together. Not for the first time, Peter wondered if Tony knew – his friend was too smart not to.

The drive was pretty easy – there wasn’t much traffic at that time of the day, so they were skating down the highway in Tony’s beautiful car in no time. He fiddled with the screen for a while before The Used started to play – the throwback making Peter laugh outright.

“I never pegged you for a 2000’s emo fan,” Peter said through the chuckle, his brain already supplying the lyrics to the song, regardless of his own taunt. Lots of things happened in the early days of Peter’s life – he found a weird kinship with the early 00’s songwriters; their grief and pain were tangible, and he liked that.

Peter watched Tony drum on the steering wheel with one of his hands, the other loosening and clenching with the beat. It was easy to tell that Tony was not a stranger to this type of music – the chorus of Bird and the Worm started and they both broke out singing it, their voices surprisingly meshing together pretty well. “I’m full of surprises, Peter Parker. I also happen to like old rock, too. What do you have to say about that?” Sarcasm dripped from the words, each one settling in the pit of Peter’s stomach – each one making that little flame of want grow the slightest bit bigger.

Catching himself smiling, Peter turned his face towards the window, the cityscape of Virginia Beach flying by them. “I think that’s okay by me. I kind of like surprises. Makes life a little more interesting. I don’t like tomatoes – I’m sure that comes as a great surprise to you,” Peter retorted, his own joke pulling a chuckle from his lips.

Tony shook his head, eyes breaking from the road to glance in Peter’s direction. “Something tells me there’s a lot more to you than just not liking tomatoes. For instance – you can run a 1500-meter race in under 4 minutes. Now that, my friend, is very surprising. I probably couldn’t even make it around the track once in 4 minutes.” Tony joined him in laughter then, the self-depreciative statement nowhere near the truth – Peter could see the obvious signs of that in the way his bicep bulged when he turned the wheel.

“It’s always a surprise to me, too. The last lap, I’m always just running on pure instinct, adrenaline, and dopamine. I didn’t know you knew that, though. We’ve never really talked about it before,” Peter realized, his thoughts manifesting in the words slipping from his mouth. Over the years, they spent so much time together and never broached the layers beneath the surface. Peter felt compelled to change that, even if it was for his own sick pleasure of knowing more about Tony, of having little pieces of him that not a lot of people get access to.

“I like statistics. Me and a couple of the guys from robotics got together to watch last year – it was cool to see the variance in all of our time guesses. You’re talented, Pete. That’s pretty hard to miss.” Tony shrugged then, his hands returning to their incessant drumming on the steering wheel.

Peter was glad for Tony’s shift in attention – the pink color on his cheeks already embarrassing without getting caught out by the boy he wanted to impress. Despite the roaring redness in his face, Peter wrapped himself in the knowledge that Tony noticed him and let the hum of his feelings crank up just a little bit louder.

That first burger stop led to a change in their routine – instead of hitting up the library, they camped out at a table in the corner of Chester’s dining room and studied. At least, it started out as studying. The topics progressively moved from Biochemistry to track and field – then even further past that into a much more personal territory. Peter learned that Tony’s parents weren’t ever around and when they were, he was avoided at all costs. In turn, Peter told Tony about his parents and uncle Ben – about the travesty of the start of his life and the small town he couldn’t wait to get away from.

He figured out pretty quickly how good it felt to simply talk to someone, especially a someone that seemed to understand more than anyone else Peter could remember encountering. Tony listened so intently, like Peter’s words were ones he needed to absorb and digest. Peter felt heard, the feeling so novel that he almost didn’t understand it – that burning sensation of actually being acknowledged. The similar look in Tony’s eyes when Peter gave him the same attention clued him in, though – the boy across from him seemed just as eager to have a pillar to lean on.

And interestingly enough, he chose Peter for the position.

A couple of days before finals week, Tony and Peter were in their normal booth at Chester’s – their shoulders pressed together to look at the textbook between them. The ringing of Peter’s phone shattered the peace of their study sanctuary – he let out a soft sigh at the break in concentration. Answering it swiftly, Peter was surprised to hear the Stanford Track & Field team coach on the other side of the line. After listening intently, Peter dropped the phone back to the table – his chest alight from the news he just received.

“That was Mike Eskind from Stanford – they want to bring me out to campus for a visit when next semester starts.” Peter looked up to catch the tail end of Tony’s huge smile – the look making his guts churn with that all too familiar heat. Shaking his head of the thought, he beamed back – their eyes locking.

“Holy shit, Pete!” Tony exclaimed, his voice the loudest pitch Peter heard him use all day. The boy jumped out of his chair – their gazes still connected. Peter followed suit without much hesitation, his entire body thrummed with excitement and pent up energy. Tony threw his arms around his hips and pulled him close – the throb of the other’s joy enough to make Peter suck in a breath, his own arms wrapping around Tony’s to join in on the embrace.

It felt right – being wrapped up in Tony’s arms. They were solid and warm, the presence of them on Peter’s hip grounding him, keeping him in the moment – the one where he got some of the greatest news of his life. He felt Tony’s head turn a little bit, his breath now gusting against the length of his neck. “Congrats,” Tony mumbled into the skin there.

Pulling back, Peter felt his grin widen, their arms not leaving each other. In the years to come, he wouldn’t be able to say who leaned in first – but all of the sudden, they were kissing. Tony’s lips were warm like the rest of him, the fullness of them pressing elegantly against Peter’s.

The initial kiss was soft, the chasteness of it a little like taking the first sip of a drink to test the flavor. Peter knew in that instant that nothing else would be as good as this – the smooth taste of Dr. Pepper, french fries, and a thing that he could only describe as Tony. It was intoxicating and enough to realize just how fucked he really was.

They inhabited the same space for another couple of moments, then Tony pulled away – one of his hands moving from Peter’s hip to cup his cheek. “I’ve wanted to do that for forever,” Tony whispered, his forehead tilting forward to rest against Peter’s. “Forever,” he mumbled again – the singular fact that they were in the middle of a public restaurant not registering to either of them. Peter closed his eyes and let himself relax into the embrace.

“Me too,” Peter replied after a while, his eyes opening for a brief second before Tony leaned forward and pressed their lips together again. The thought that maybe this might be a thing from now on made his heart skip and his head tilt a little further to the side, deepening the kiss.

Later that night, Peter thought so much about that kiss – about how utterly perfect the first one he ever got was – how, out of all the people in the world, Tony chose him to be on the receiving end of his affection. After getting to know the boy, Peter understood just how big of a thing that was – he didn’t get any in his home life, it made total sense that being able to give it wasn’t the easiest thing. Yet, it seemed to be earlier that day, the memory of Tony’s lips still ghosting across his own.

----

Finishing out the semester with all A’s, some college credit, and a boyfriend still felt surprising – even two months later when he slid into Tony’s car bright and early in the morning. This new ritual of theirs started when winter break ended, and their high school classes started back up. Since they didn’t have any early college stuff until the middle of January, both boys were free to do what they wanted after 11 every morning. Peter didn’t have any commitments until track practice at the end of the day, so they capitalized on it. His lips were so chapped by the end of the three weeks of freedom they had, and the boys were closer than ever.

He still didn’t understand why Tony wanted to drive 45 minutes in both directions to come and get him – but he wasn’t going to complain. Not having to sit on the bus so early in the morning was a beautiful thing, and all the extra time he got to spend with Tony was even better. Sometimes they were early enough to stop off and get some breakfast – and sometimes they skipped the McDonald’s and took advantage of the extra time; Tony’s back seat felt like a second home after so much time in it.

Though they were always all over each other, things hadn’t escaladed between them. Peter knew the feel of Tony’s cock through the tightness of his jeans – he knew the face Tony made when he came in his pants, but that was the extent of it. For a while, Peter worried that Tony would be mad at him for keeping things low level between them. The emotional feelings he felt for the other boy were so strong – he could only imagine what adding more to the physical sense of those feelings would be like.

With the thought in mind that junior year was the most important and the hardest, Peter and Tony kept their hands to themselves more or less and merely enjoyed being in each other’s company. When they weren’t making out in the back of Tony’s car, they studied at Chester’s or in the library, and spent time with May.

She initially wasn’t on board with the whole relationship when Peter first told her about it – then Tony came to the house for dinner and charmed her pants off. The deal was pretty much sealed after that. Tony seemed to enjoy the family aspect of being with her, and Peter enjoyed the look of happiness on his face too much to deprive him.

Peter thought that track season would put a damper on things between them, but it only seemed to strengthen their bond. Tony didn’t have anything other than robotics going on after school and they were currently on a break until championships at the end of the year – so he came to all of Peter’s meets. By the middle of the season, Peter’s teammates recognized Tony and May as his cheering section – and when things got really intense, many of them would join the pair in cheering Peter on. This was his year and the closer he got to it, the more Tony being there meant – the fact that the other cared about him enough to stand in the hot sun and rainy days was motivation and pushed him harder than he ever thought imaginable.

Winning nationals that year felt so sweet – his entire season was more than amazing and a lot of it had to do with all of the love and support he felt on a constant basis. So, it was easy to finally let Tony have the little bit of love they hadn’t experienced with each other yet. It seemed like the perfect celebration for an achievement that most people couldn’t even fathom – let alone achieve three times. The look of pride on Tony’s face made the decision pretty simple. Not even May looked at him like that – like he was the most prized trophy in the world and that Tony was the true winner here, not Peter.

It wasn’t nearly as awkward as he initially thought it might be. Tony spent a long time prepping him – the view of the boy with sweat on his brow and a look of pure concentration on his face something Peter didn’t ever want to forget. He came more than once throughout the process and when Tony did finally press inside of him, the burn of the stretch felt like the lactic acid build up at the end of a race – something he could easily push through. Watching Tony fall apart above him was almost as good as the rush of intense pleasure when his boyfriend finally found his pleasure center deep within. The utterance of his name never sounded sweeter than when Tony gasped it in the throes of pleasure – his lips finding Peter’s as he rode through it.

Slumping together on the hotel bed after they were done, Peter relaxed into Tony’s arms – the other’s soft hands ran over his hair, lips pressing against his neck every couple of seconds. “I love you, Peter Parker. I love you and I’m so proud of you. So proud, Petey,” Tony mumbled, his lips against salty skin disguising some of the words – but Peter heard enough. His heart picked up its pace, the organ not used to this sort of rush. He loved Tony – that much was obvious to everyone that got to see them together. Never in a million years did he think Tony would be the one to say it first, though.

“I love you too, Tony. Thanks for being here. Not just today, either. You’ve been the best support I’ve ever gotten. I can’t thank you enough,” Peter whispered back, his eyes a little teary. Between the exhaustion of his two days of racing and the emotional roller coaster of it all, Peter felt drained – and that meant a little more susceptible to being smacked in the face with his feelings. Looking over his shoulder, Peter reached for an awkward angled kiss – the move stopping the tears in their tracks.

Without missing a beat when they pulled away, Tony pressed a kiss to his neck and shoulder, hands traveling down Peter’s side. “You deserve it. Not just because you’re good – even though you’re fucking amazing. You bring a lot of things to the table, Pete. The more people get to see that, the more they realize just how big of an asset you are. Why do you think your teammates came up with us to cheer you on? You make an impression – you’re the greatest person I’ve ever known.”

Peter turned over to get a better look at Tony, the boy’s words so big. Now that they were facing each other, Peter could see the post-orgasm flush on Tony’s cheeks and the soft smile his lips seemed to be in on a near permanent basis these days. He pressed a kiss to the edge of his smile on both cheeks, then licked his nose in jest. “I think you’re just biased, babe,” Peter decided to say, all of the other words he could have blurted out stuck in the filter – his head everywhere and nowhere all at once.

The rush of air against his cheek when Tony laughed made his body shudder, the goosebumps taking over his flesh a nifty side effect to the soft sound of his boyfriend’s happiness. “You’re probably right.” His reply was quick and followed by a series of kisses against both of Peter’s cheeks. Tony’s hand ran hypnotically from the middle of his back all the way to the top and then back down again – his entire body now completely relaxed into the comfort of his favorite person.

As most do, their relationship changed a little bit after that. With the summer months ahead of them, there wasn’t much else to do other than spend time together. Tony’s parents left the day after they got back from nationals and would be gone for the rest of the summer – which meant they got run of the huge Stark mansion, just the two of them. They spent way too many hours in the lab constructing a couple new versions of some of their older robotics models – and fucking over available surface, too. It was one of the best summers Peter could remember and they didn’t even leave the city.

Throughout the week, Tony took Peter back and forth between his place and May’s – he still needed to do track workouts and such, so he used the mornings away from Tony to do just that. After his last win, it felt important to make sure he kept at it and tried to advance even more than he already was. He committed to Stanford at the end of the school year and didn’t want to give the school a reason to rescind the opportunity they were giving him. He and Tony were both polishing up their essays before sending in their applications – he still needed to get into the school to actually be able to go be an athlete there.

Peter felt lucky, spending the summer days surrounded in the haze of his love for Tony and the fun they could so easily have with each other. Most of his summers before were spent doing odd jobs around town to make a few extra bucks and counting down the days until he could get back to Midtown. It was miserable and Peter dreaded everything about it.

Not anymore, though – the days were dwindling down way too quickly; the freedom of the summer was too sweet to want to give up.

Regardless of his desires, senior year started without much preamble. The beauty of being with someone as smart as Tony came with having every class with him – even their early college classes on the other campus. Each day got to start and end with Tony, the exact way Peter preferred it.

About halfway through the year, May pulled him aside before he could walk out the door – her eyes filled with concern. “Pete – don’t you think you and Tony might be getting a little bit too serious? We haven’t had dinner without him in months,” May said, her face pinched up tight with discomfort. “It’s just – you’re in high school and you two act like you’re a married couple.”

He couldn’t help the laugh that fell from his lips – the truth of that statement hitting him square in the chest. They did and there wasn’t a single part of him that didn’t like that fact. Life with Tony in it was easy – more natural than breathing, even. It never crossed his mind, how the time they spent together might look to people around them. Tony brought him joy and happiness – and those feelings quickly became the sole focus in his life. He felt good and there wasn’t anyone who could take that away from him – not even May.

“Yeah, we do. And that’s okay. It’s not unhealthy, or anything. I like being around him, May. He makes me happy. Isn’t that what you want – for me to be happy? He’s my best friend. I’m not going to give up on the way that makes me feel – even if you think it’s too much.” Peter didn’t wait for her answer, he simply pressed a kiss to her cheek and walked out the door – the black Audi sitting there immediately making him feel better.

Settling into the seat, Peter buckled himself in before reaching across the middle console to put a hand on Tony’s thigh. “Want to know what May just said to me?” Peter asked, a soft smile on his lips. The thigh under his hand moved as Tony adjusted, his boyfriend turning a bit in the seat to see him more clearly.

“That sounds like a trick question – but I’ll bite. What did May just say to you?” Tony put the car into gear and pulled forward, his hand grabbing Peter’s and tangling their fingers together. “If it’s juicy girl talk about me, I definitely want to know.”

Peter brought their joint hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss to Tony’s knuckles – his nose rubbing there for a second. Tony’s hands were always warm, the constant presence of it one of his favorite things about the other boy. “She said we act like a married couple. I can’t lie – I liked the sound of it.” And he did – very much, almost to the point where he wanted it to be the case.

Tony must have liked the sound of that, too – his fingers squeezed Peter’s tightly, his head nodding vigorously. “I too like the sound of that. We might as well be. You’re not ever going to be able to get rid of me,”

Not that he wanted to anyway, Peter thought to himself. The rest of the drive to school, Peter kept the thought at the back of his head – his brain already moving in a billion different directions. They were heading out to California together in the summer, Tony already had plans for their house (though, he failed to share them with Peter,) and his boyfriend was right – there’d be no getting rid of Tony now that the attachment was created. Peter didn’t think either of them wanted to know what it was like to be without the other.

As the year mark of their relationship crept up, so did early acceptance time for Stanford. Between finals week, making goo-goo eyes at each other, and waiting by the mail – Peter felt a little bit of stress. There’d be another opportunity to get into Stanford later on the year, his entire future wasn’t riding on this acceptance letter, yet, he couldn’t stop himself from worrying about it nonetheless.

His record was spotless – but weirder things have happened in his life and he was unable to let himself relax completely. Tony would get in, that was a given – everything about the boy shouted pristine. And despite not wanting to lean on the Stark name, Tony couldn’t escape the prestige that his family offered him.

When the letters did eventually come, Peter almost passed out when he saw the ‘Congratulations’ in the first sentence. He spent so many sleepless nights brainstorming back up plans for no reason. The ability to drop all of the stress and worry away was like lifting the bag from his head – Peter could breathe fully for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Tony pulled him into his arms and pressed a kiss to his lips, the touch lingering only for a moment. “See, you were worried for nothing,” Tony whispered, his nose brushing against Peter’s softly. “Proud of you, Pete.” He kissed him again, this time his lips lingering for a couple of minutes.

The pride they felt for each other made the celebration of their acceptances into college that much sweeter – Tony took his time with every aspect of it, his fingers reverent, his thrusts long and thorough. He pulled every ounce of pleasure from Peter’s skin, while whispering sweet words of nothing the entire time. As Peter hit his peak and felt Tony tumble down with him, the thought of forever came back and hit him again – there was a lot to be said for spending the rest of his days just like this; completely and utterly absorbed in everything Tony was and could be.

----

The rest of the year went pretty quickly after they came back from winter break. Peter scheduled his final semester to be as easy as possible – between the hopes of having his best track season and starting a life with Tony, school was the last thing on his mind. There weren’t too many options for the more advanced classes, anyway – their aeronautical engineering classes the next year would be more than enough.

Some of the best parts of the end of their senior year didn’t come from school or the track. Tony surprised him with a scavenger hunt around Virginia Beach to ask him to prom. The day ended with Tony at the end of their favorite dock with a single red rose. The other knew there wasn’t any need to even ask – they simply put on nice suits the year before and danced the night away. Yet, the fact that Tony went out of his way to make it special felt pretty damn good.

They rode in one of the Stark limos to the big hotel Midtown always held their prom in and spent the entire time making out in the back seat. For some reason, Tony’s fire burnt a little hotter that night. He pulled Peter close and kept him near when they were standing with a couple of the different groups of people they were friendly with. The last slow dance of the night ended with Tony pressing soft kisses to the shell of his ear and muttering about how much he loved him. Getting into the back of the limo, Jarvis didn’t even try to engage them in conversation, he simply rolled up the window and pulled the car away from the curb. Peter couldn’t remember a time when Tony’s touch was so hotly determined.

Their good time at prom translated into an abundance of energy for Peter – the rest of the school year and track season went by in the blink of an eye. Before anyone really knew it, he was lining up for his last ever national’s meet – that thought making his heart thump against his chest. Track was going to get him exactly what he wanted out of his life – it felt a little weird to be closing that particular chapter.

Settling onto the line, Peter closed his eyes and got himself to his spot – the place somewhere in his mind that he could just relax and let his body go. He’d been sprucing the spot up a bunch over the past year, this season one of season best yet because of it. After another second, the gun sounded and Peter took off, his eyes snapping open and completely focused on the run ahead of him.

As he turned the corner of his last ever straightaway in his high school track career, Peter found himself smiling. The last few steps felt like his best yet and when he crossed the finish line to the announcer saying his name over the speaker, he raised a hand in the air and let out a shriek of victory. What a way to end what turned out to be some of the best years of his life so far. Getting there meant so much, Peter couldn’t have done it without the people in the stands supporting him. He looked up to catch eyes with Tony and frowned when he didn’t see him. After a quick look around, Peter noticed him at the edge of the track, a smile on his face.

Tony stepped onto the track; his strides purposeful towards Peter. Tilting his head in question, Peter narrowed the space between them – “Tony, what are you doing?” Peter asked, his face pulling into a grin despite his confusion. “The next race is – “ he started, but was shockingly interrupted by Tony getting down on one knee before him. Whatever was going to come out of his mouth next was stopped in its tracks, his brain all of the sudden narrowed down and completely focused on the person in front of him.

“This is a long time coming, Pete. I know we’re young and there are so many things that are going to change here soon – but I want to be with you when they do. Growing with you these past couple of years has been the very best thing in my life. You put a smile on my face, and I want that for every morning – every day, for the rest of the ones I have left. Marry me, Pete.” Tony flipped open the box of a simple white gold band, the elegance of its basic nature something that made the rightness of the situation standout. The decision seemed pretty easy after that.

Pulling Tony up, Peter crashed their lips together – his sweaty face and the crowd be damned; his best friend and very favorite person just asked him to share forever. He broke the kiss before it could get too heated, their lips separating just enough for Peter to mumble “yes” in the space between them. The world was narrow for a few seconds as Tony slipped the ring on his finger, a huge smile on his face.

“Well, folks – it looks like our record holder and national champion just got engaged; congratulations, Peter Parker!”

His face flushing, Peter urged Tony off the track and out of the public eye – his heart was pounding, and he wanted so much just to have Tony wrapped around him and nothing else. “I can’t believe you did that. We’re getting married,” Peter exclaimed when they were nestled into the safety of the team spaces under the bleachers. Tony was full of surprises and constantly sweeping him off of his feet. It wasn’t necessary – they both knew that. They were solid and nothing was going to change that. Yet, the weight on his left ring finger spoke volumes, the sweet whisper of the rest of their lives together, and the gentle murmur of a commitment that Peter knew Tony was never afraid to give him.

The glitz of excitement lasted all the way through the metal ceremony and the near constant interviews he gave for a couple hours after that. Everyone wanted to know about the gorgeous stranger that stepped up and asked for his hand. They were curious about everything except his last run around the track – and Peter couldn’t blame them. He didn’t have any interest in talking about running when he could still hear Tony’s words in the back of his head, each one fresh – each one trying to dig a hole in his brain and stay there, to be remembered and kept close.

Peter wasn’t naïve, he knew exactly what getting married young would be like. There were still adult things he didn’t know how to do and leaving May’s house to not only go to college, but be someone’s husband – it was scary. The thought of not having Tony with him, for any reason, was much more frightening than anything else, though; he could learn how to do the laundry and pay his taxes, his genius level intelligence needed to be good for something.

Getting back to the hotel room, Tony pulled Peter through the door and proceeded to slip his hands under the warm-up he’d been wearing since he took off his uniform. His skin was dry now, but Tony’s touch brought the goosebumps rushing back, the surface feeling like it might crack and break all over the carpet if Tony’ didn’t keep touching him. A loud cough from the other side of the room stopped them in their tracks – Peter’s eyes widening when he saw May sitting there, a weird look on her face.

“May – what are you doing here? I thought we were meeting you later?” Peter asked, his brain trying to recall when he gave May his room key. She’d been staying at the nice hotel across the street on Tony’s dime, his boyfriend adamant about making sure May was taken care of. Moving a little, Peter felt Tony’s hands fall from under his shirt, the boy grabbing for his palm, instead – their fingers tangling.

It would have been nice, to marvel in the fact that from here on out, they were going to be together. May didn’t seem to have the same idea, though. She stood and closed a little bit of the space between them – the fact that both parties were standing not lost on Peter. He knew her battle tactics – staying on her feet was the easiest way for May to prepare for an attack. Peter bit down on his lip and prepared for the worst – whatever she had to say, it probably wasn’t pretty.

Turning to Tony first, she looked him square in the eye, her lips moving without any sound coming out for a moment, the woman obviously searching for the right words. “When you asked me if you could marry him, I didn’t think you meant ten minutes later!” May exclaimed, her voice cracking a little with the intensity of it. “I would have liked to have gotten some pictures, or something.” She shook her head, then moved her glance over to Peter, eyes now soft – the heat in them gone the second she started talking at Tony.

“And you – you know you’re only 18, right? Marriage isn’t a joke. Picking up his underwear for the rest of your life is taxing and takes a lot of work. Are you ready for that? To be someone else’s before you even figure out who you are?” May’s questions were valid, her empathy obvious in every action she ever made with Peter in mind. His aunt only wanted to see him excel and succeed – he couldn’t hold her worry or curiosity against her.

Dropping Tony’s hand, Peter narrowed the space between himself and May, his arms wrapping around her shoulders to pull her into a hug. “Do you remember what Ben used to say? When the bones are good, the rest don’t matter. There’s no cracks in the foundation, May. It’ll be okay. I’m scared, too – but I want this.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek then, her arms tightening as the words seemed to sink in.

He knew using Ben against her wasn’t the fairest thing he could have done – it was obvious she felt his loss so sharply still, all these years later and she was still so desperately in love with him. His uncle’s words were ones that stuck out, though. Even as a young kid, Peter knew things weren’t always good for them.

It was a struggle to pay rent with their meager jobs – they were constantly pulling at everything they had to make ends meet; for Peter and more importantly, each other. Peter’s favorite memory of the man was when he pulled both Peter and May into his lap – he looked around the room and said, “this house won’t crumble – the bones are too good.”

And for some reason, that stuck with him. At 5, he had no idea what it meant. He looked around for days to find the bones of the house. Then Ben died and he watched May do everything she could to keep things afloat – the literal backbone of the little family unit that they were. Finding himself with Tony finally made the words mean something to him – the foundation of their relationship was strong enough to keep whatever they decided upright and standing, regardless of the things that came their way.

Tearfully, May looked between them, Peter back by Tony’s side, their hands tangled together once again. “You’re such a dick for using Ben, Pete – but you’re also right. And no matter what I say, you’re going to do what you want. I’m not stupid enough to lose either of you because I’m trying to be a responsible adult,” May stopped then, shaking her head and filling the space between them with silent steps. She embraced them both, one arm around Peter and the other around Tony – both her babies now. “I love you – both of you. Even if you are a couple of idiots.”

Tony’s parents weren’t as kind and made their opinion about it pretty clear. Peter stood next to Tony while Howard berated him about bad decisions and getting ahead in life – his heart broke with every word, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop himself from busting open. “Why do you care now? I’ve known Tony my whole life and you’ve never been this interested in what he does. I spent almost every day with him last summer and you didn’t call once. It seems like it’s a little late to have such a strong opinion about his behavior now, Mr. Stark.”

Everyone in the room looked at him for a couple of minutes – the silence sitting heavily in the already toxic air around them. Tony broke the trance and wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulders, his lips pressing against the side of his head. “I fucking love you,” Tony murmured. He pulled away and grabbed Peter’s hand, the clank of his boots heavy on the floor as he started to walk out of the room. Neither of his parents said anything or tried to stop him – so they walked down the stairs and left.

There wasn’t anything holding them back now.

----

They decided to be understated about it. Tony used a hefty portion of the funds he miraculously did not get cut off from to buy plane tickets to Hawaii. With May in tow, Tony and Peter got married on the beach in Maui – the sunset in front of them and flower crowns made with the local flora in their hair. The man that officiated the ceremony was a native on the island and took them around to all the best spots in celebration – it was absolutely gorgeous to see the beautiful place from such an insider perspective. Their hired photographer took pictures of them on the beach right as the sun was setting. The whole day absolutely magical, despite the fact that it was just the two of them for most of it.

May stayed in Maui when Peter and Tony left to spend their last week before heading to Stanford together in Honolulu. Their penthouse suite was bigger than his entire childhood home and had the most amazing view of the beach from the balcony at the back of the room. They spent their wedding night getting tipsy with May, so it would be the first night they spent together as husbands – and Peter was a little nervous.

For whatever reason, it felt like a totally new thing, being intimate with Tony now. They were the same people – still Peter and Tony, the young idiots in love. And yet, his heart pounded hard against his chest when Tony wrapped his arms around his hips from behind, his husband’s face settling over Peter’s shoulder. “I can hear you thinking all the way across the room. What’s on your mind, husband?” Tony questioned softly, the movement of his jaw a nice weight against him.

“It’s nice to be able to call each other that, isn’t it? Husband.” Peter reached up and placed his hands on Tony’s, his body relaxing back into him.

Tony moved a bit, giving the side of his neck a kiss. “Yeah, it is.” He pressed another kiss against Peter’s skin, and then another – his lips roaming across all the bare pieces of his neck and shoulder that he could find. “You’re the one, you know? I’m glad I finally get to have the world know that now, too.”

Turning in Tony’s arms, Peter wrapped his own around the other’s neck, their chest’s flush together. If he concentrated hard enough, he could feel the gentle beat of Tony’s heart against him – the rhythm of it steady. “Your possessive nature is kind of my favorite. I’m yours, Tony. Forever and ever.” Peter whispered the words, his nose brushing back and forth against Tony’s. “I love you, husband.” He finished off the sentiment with a kiss, his lips slipping across the other’s until he opened up to him, their tongues tangling.

It didn’t take much to stumble their way inside and land on the large bed in the middle of the master bedroom. The hotel chose a high thread count sheet set, Peter sighing when he relaxed against them. Tony really did go all out. Thoughts were soon replaced by nothing but feeling, Tony’s lips devouring his for minutes at a time, his husband only pulling back enough to catch a quick breath, then driving back in.

Tony took his clothes off one by one. He started with Peter’s short sleeve button down. He’d been growing some facial hair, and it tickled when he pressed his lips to the sensitive skin of Peter’s chest. With only three buttons undone, Tony got sidetracked – his mouth finding first the right nipple, tongue and teeth toying with the nub until it was hard and air sensitive. Only then did he switch, the man taking his time to get his desired result out of that one, too.

Nimble fingers finished the job, the tips of them caressing the lower part of Peter’s stomach and ever so slightly under the waistband of shorts and boxer briefs. He didn’t waste any time at all, either – he pulled the button of Peter’s pants out of the loop and tugged the offensive garment down. That beautiful mouth attached itself to the bulge in Peter’s underwear, the warm air making him toss his head back – his traitorous hips thrusting up off the mattress to get more friction.

Peter slid his fingers into Tony’s hair when he pulled the waistband of his underwear down just enough to let his tongue run over the very tip of an already leaky cock. He couldn’t control the babbles that were coming out of his mouth, most of them not even words – just breathless pants and choked off syllables. Tony worshiped at the alter and took his time slipping his boxer briefs completely off, tracing the length of his cock with eager fingers and tongue, then finally closing his mouth around him completely.

The tight grip at the base of his shaft kept him on the edge of his seat for what felt like forever. Both of Tony’s hands were on him, one hand gripping tight, the other moving with his mouth on the downward stroke – it felt like a fire being stoked from the outside in. “Tony, you’re killing me – I’m so close,” Peter mumbled, his hips thrusting up uselessly into the tight grip of his husband’s hand. Brown eyes completely taken by a lust-addled pupil looked up at him, a glow there.

“Cum, then,” Tony challenged, his lips barely coming off of Peter’s cock to get the words out – he felt the hum of every single one.

He wasn’t one to not listen to directions, so he did just that – Peter’s fingers tightened in Tony’s hair, the strands bunched up between them. “Oh, fuck – “

It took him a second to come back around, his eyes blinking the black dots from them to get a better look at the man between his legs. Tony was still laving his sensitive erection with his tongue, his eyes closed, a look of complete contentment on his face. He watched him long enough to feel the heat bubble in his gut – arousal coursing through him once again.

“Mm – back already. How do you want me?” Tony asked, looking up to catch Peter’s eye. He reached down to tug Tony up, his weight settling on top of him once again. He pressed up and gave his husband a kiss, the taste of himself still fresh on Tony’s tongue. The way the essence of who they were tangled together never ceased to drive him crazy – the underlying taste of Tony below the bitterness so intoxicating.

With Tony over him again, Peter could feel his hardness pressing into his hip – the tip wet, small dribbles of precum dripping from it as they kissed and thrust against each other. Breaking away, he let his fingertips brush Tony’s cheeks, a small smile on his face. “How about you sit back and relax for a minute – I’ll show you exactly what I want.” Peter laid another kiss on his lips before using his hands to push at Tony’s chest, his husband moving without much prodding.

“Sit back against the headboard,” Peter instructed, both of them adjusting until Tony was propped up against the back of the bed, creamy thighs straddling him. With eager hands, Peter reached over to the bedside table, his boy scout of a husband leaving the essentials there when they first got in. “Always prepared,” Peter said with a giggle, the lube bottle swinging between them. Uncapping it, Peter poured a generous amount on his fingers and let it warm up – the slickness something he couldn’t wait to feel.

Sitting up a little, he widened his legs across Tony’s lap, his finger finding his own entrance and pushing in. it still took a little while to get used to, the feeling fingers inside of himself, but Tony’s hands running up and down his thighs helped, his entire being relaxing. “You look good like this, Pete. Your eyes are glazed over and your skin is flushed. The running gives you these amazing thighs – and watching you put your own fingers inside yourself… I want to be those fingers, Pete. I can’t wait to be inside of you,” Tony babbled as he watched and caressed, his eyes glued to Peter’s.

He threw his head back, all of his nerve endings on fire – the delightful tug-o-war between the naughty words coming out of Tony’s mouth and the stretch of his own fingers. It was hard to break away from the intensity of his husband’s gaze, but he needed more – he swiftly replaced one finger with two, a groan slipping from his lips from the delightful burn. “I can’t wait either, baby. I can’t – I need you.” He was groaning, the words dripping from his lips without much of a run through his brain to mouth filter.

Neediness in mind, Peter rushed through the rest of the prep – the tease of it doing its job – Tony was mindlessly thrusting up against him and his own body was humming with want and heat; all of it so very delicious.

Peter uncapped the lube again and poured a generous amount directly onto Tony’s cock, his husband opening his eyes wide – “Fuck, Pete,” he shouted, neither of them all that worried about the noise level. He gripped Tony tightly and spread the slick down his cock, his length glistening when he pulled away. “Please, baby – “ Tony mumbled, his hands gripping Peter’s hips tightly as he settled over him.

There wasn’t much finesse to the way Peter simply sat back and took Tony’s length in – he felt the biting burn of stretching muscles and the tight grip of his husband’s fingers, but not much else. His legs were spread wide, his hips merely rolling to keep the entirety of Tony in him, the tip of his dick sitting just barely against his prostate. With the small thrusts up Tony couldn’t hold back, Peter’s innermost pleasure spot was constantly getting serviced, the divine ache of It out of this world.

It didn’t take much time for Tony to start to lose control – “Move, please – more… I need more.” Tony wasn’t much of a talker when they got to this portion of the evening, he showed his pleasure and appreciation through the touches, each caress saying something different, portraying his feelings in that instant. It sent a jolt to his core and spurred him up onto his feet, his arms holding onto Tony’s shoulders for dear life.

Tony’s hands moved to grip an ass cheek in each one, his hold helping Peter lift up a little more. He moved rapidly, then – his control swiftly shot, the shift in position pressing Tony in a little deeper. The only sounds in the room were the slap of skin on skin and harsh breaths – Peter whimpering every few thrusts down against the tip of Tony’s cock; his insides burning, the heat eating him up cell by cell.

When Tony started to lift his hips to meet his thrusts, Peter saw stars – his orgasm rushing over him without warning. “Tony, oh god – “ his cock emptied between them, each splash of cum coating Tony’s still flexing abs.

The rhythmic clenching of his hole must have been too much – Tony came undone beneath him only seconds later. He gripped Peter so hard he could already feel the bruises starting to form there. The delightful wetness within him made him clench again, the move drawing a long groan from his husband’s lips.

“You’re going to kill me one day,” he mumbled, his hands brushing up the length of Peter’s back as he leaned against him. “But what a way to go.” Peter shut him up with a kiss, their shared laugh almost as amazing as the love they just made.

The rest of the week was spent much the same – Peter and Tony tangled up together. They walked along the beach and spent time exploring each of the islands – one of the days, they met May for lunch and talked about all of the cute island guys that she’d been gathering up the courage to talk to. It was pretty perfect – a good way to relax and enjoy the last couple of days of freedom before the fun started.

Tony didn’t let him leave the bed all of the last day. They bought movies on demand and ate really expensive room service. After the burn he got the day before, Peter was grateful to spend the day in the air conditioning, his body worshipped by his very new and very beautiful husband.

----

They said goodbye to May at the airport and took a left when she went right. Peter was expected to check in for track workouts the very next day. It was hard to see her crying face take the corner – Peter wouldn’t get to go back to Virginia until winter break and when they did, it was only for a week. The indoor season would take up so much of his time, he wondered for a while if he’d be able to keep up with the aeronautical engineering program. There wasn’t any point in worrying, though – they hadn’t even gotten there yet.

After the 5-hour flight into Palo Alto, Tony got them a car that took them to their brand-new town house. It was the first time that Peter saw it, so he brushed off the tiredness and explored the two-story home – Tony must have spent a lot of time ordering furniture while Peter took care of their clothes and other belongings.

The entire house was set up – and their books for the semester were sitting on the dining room table. “I had Jarvis come ahead and set everything up for us. He wanted to buy us a wedding gift, but I thought a week in California for a little bit of interior decorating was a good trade-off,” Tony said, his hand caressing Peter’s cheek when they finally settled into the bar stools in the kitchen. “Do you like it?”

Peter moved quickly out of the seat, wrapping Tony in his arms before his husband could move or even think. “It’s perfect. There’s so much space, I won’t even know what to do with myself. I can’t believe this is ours,” Peter replied, a little bit of awe in his voice. It felt weird to be on his own for the first time, but also amazing – they were finally together, finally on their own, and completely free to start their life together.

Of course, it took a little bit of adjustment to get used to things. Tony didn’t do a lot of his own cleaning growing up and Peter washed the dishes for May every night – so it took more than a few discussions to come to a compromise that worked for them both. When Peter was unhappy, Tony listened to his complaints and tried his best. Peter tried to do the same for his husband and most of the time – it worked. The times that it didn’t, there was enough space for the two of them to separate and cool off. Fights were never major, though Tony sometimes tried to make them so.

It was funny – how different married life actually was to what he pictured in his head. There wasn’t much difference to their relationship. They laughed together often and explored the city – when Peter had track events, Tony went with him. People looked at them oddly when Peter introduced Tony as his husband – many of them telling them both that they would have never guessed they were gay, let alone married. Peter merely smiled and pulled Tony towards him; a soft kiss being pressed to the man’s cheek. “Yup, gay and happily married,” he always replied, a soft smile making the words as convincing as they were true.

Tony took a job in the physics lab during their second semester freshman year, his need to fill the time even more pressing now that Peter would be gone pretty frequently. It gave them a bit of separation and made coming back together a lot sweeter. Right before Peter left for his first ever college track meet, Tony took him to the plant nursery to pick out a couple of the foliage he’d been looking at. They initially wanted a pet but figured that a plant dying would be much less scarring than a dog or a cat.

They went home with a whole selection of house plants – a spider plant, a lucky bamboo, some ponytail palms, and a sword fern. They were perfect for the back part of the house where the morning sun peaked in. They would be successful parents one day and that journey started with the plants that they picked out with care. It was fun to argue about how to arrange them and when they ended up on the floor with nothing on but a little dirt from a tipped over pot, Peter figured they’d do an okay job keeping their little babies alive.

College track was a lot different than the high school circuit – the abundance of meets making it a little harder to recover and by default, Peter a little grumpier than usual. A Thursday after a long practice, Peter came home to an empty house. He’d been looking forward to pouncing on Tony, his need for comfort almost overwhelming to the point where he was a little pissed by his husband’s absence.

Pulling out his phone, he called Tony, his head tilting when he heard the man’s distinct ring up the stairs. A soft sigh left his lips when he saw Tony on the bed, fast asleep. All of the bad feelings slipped from him – his face pulling into a grin. The siren song of the love of his life looking so cute in bed pulled him in, too – Peter kicked off his shoes and wrapped himself around Tony, his eyes slipping closed within moments.

The smell of bacon woke him up a little while later. Glancing over at the clock, Peter saw that it’d only been a couple of hours. Grinning at the thought of overcooked pig, he climbed out of bed and hobbled down the stairs, his body still a little sleep addled.

The sight of Tony at the stove was heartwarming, he wasn’t the best cook – he never had to make a meal for himself before moving out here in his life; but he tried, and that was enough. The one thing Peter knew he could make was bacon, though – his stomach grumbled hungrily at the thought.

“Hey, husband,” Peter announced, his voice making Tony turn from the stove with a slight jump.

“Hey yourself. You’re looking good, Pete. That little bit of sleep did you good, baby.” Tony smiled at him warmly, the bright look in his eye never dulling, the intensity of it only seeming to glow more as the days passed. It felt good – to be loved like that. So selflessly, with so much of a person that was willing to give him absolutely everything.

Walking over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, Peter grabbed his hips, fingers squeezing. “Yeah, thanks – its been a hectic couple of weeks. Conference is coming up, so they’ve got their foot on the gas with training. Speaking of – I can get you a pass, if you want to come.”

Tony flipped the burner off and went about putting things on plates, his husband turning with his hands full to nod enthusiastically at him. “You know I want to come, Pete. I haven’t missed one of your meets yet. It was kind of fun to go to Idaho a couple of weeks ago – I’d never been before.” He set a plate in front of Peter, a glass of orange juice following it a couple of moments later. “I’m going to get your distance coach to like me one of these days.”

Peter ate with one hand, the other playing with the fingers tangled with his own. Tony talked a bit about his day in the lab and told him about the copy of notes he made for Peter that was sitting on his desk in the study. He simply let him talk, Peter luxuriating in the clarity of being with Tony. It didn’t matter if he had a shitty day or that he was tired all the time – having Tony to come home to was nice – better than nice.

A couple of weeks later, Peter was getting ready for a race when one of his teammates came up to him, a question evident in his eyes. Letting out a breath, Peter turned his attention to him. “What’s up, Clint? I’m sure the rumor mill is churning up something good.” Peter said sarcastically, his arms still swinging in an attempt to keep himself warm.

“Why are you married? You’re talented, you’re hot – you could have anyone that you wanted. Instead you’re tied down. Why? Everyone wants to know why.” Clint didn’t beat around the bush, the blush on his cheeks the only sign that he felt a little bit embarrassed by the question. Peter grinned, the question one he could easily answer.

“Because I love him. He loves me. We take care of each other. He’s my best friend. I wanted to be with him forever and so did he. There are lots of reasons.” Peter’s smile grew when he saw Tony coming his way, his husband carrying a Gatorade and a hot dog, the bottle being thrust his way the second he was close enough to Peter. “Because he buys me Gatorade without asking,” Peter added, his arm wrapping around Tony’s shoulder.

Twenty minutes later, when Peter was pulling up from his push through the last lap, he looked up to see a group of his teammates sitting with Tony, all of them clapping and cheering with him – his husband hopping around like a madman. When they caught eyes, Tony stopped, his fingers coming to his lips to blow him a kiss. He mouthed ‘I love you’ at him – Peter’s heart stopping a bit at the softness of his cheeks and the look of pure affection on his face.

Peter ran to the edge of the track and grabbed the edges of the fence, a huge smile on his face. “I love you too, Tony Stark.”

Opening up the text from Clint a couple hours later, Peter couldn’t help but laugh. Tony looked over his shoulder to see a picture of Peter clinging to the fence, the shot of his side profile showing off the huge smile on his face. “Loving me looks good on you,” Tony whispered, his lips pressing against the shell of Peter’s ear.

“Yeah, it really does.”

#starker #ironspider #peter parker/tony stark #tony stark/peter parker #peter parker x tony stark #tony stark x peter parker #high school au #college/university au #marriage #married au #bobbie writes #dumb-bitch-starker #fics #fan fics

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winterironspiderling · 4 years

Note

For the prompt list: 99 and 85 are two I would love to see. 99 takes priority though. I love your writing btw! 😁❤️

Thank you for the compliment! I did 99 with WinterSpider, and I’ll do 85 with Starker in a separate post. :) Conveniently, 99 was requested twice!

“Would it help if I stayed?”

Rated Teen, Hurt/Comfort, mention of a car accident.

Peter had clocked the car going just a little bit too fast all the way from his perch on the rooftop. He swung down with practiced ease, flipping off the end of his web with a flourish and landing in front of the car right before it collided with the passing bus.

He took the impact of the crash, and set the car down on the road as gently as he could. A quick glance let him know there were three people in the car, including the driver.

The car’s front end was crumpled and would be totalled according to the insurance companies, but he’d stopped dozens of crashes like this before. He’d done all the calculations in his head and known that with the way the car was heading into the bus, the three in the car would’ve been dead, and one or two from the bus. Had he not intervened.

Peter rushed to check if everyone was okay, expecting not to have any issues, but something was wrong.

The woman behind the wheel was slumped forward. He could smell the blood before he saw it dripping from her nose.

Peter ripped off the door, and Karen was already calling for emergency services.

“No, no, no. I don’t understand,” Peter murmured.

The children in the backseat were crying.

“She’s still breathing,” Peter realized. “She’s still breathing!”

He had Karen run an analysis to make sure the lady was safe to move, and then he pulled her out of her seat.

There was only so much he could do, though. He was smart but didn’t have any medical training beyond CPR, but was that even what she needed? She was unconscious, not dead.

Peter panicked. He would’ve been willing to lift the mask to save her, but he didn’t know what saving her entailed.

“Karen, what do I do?” Peter cried.

“She is unconscious, Peter. Paramedics are on the way.”

“I know, but what do I do?” Peter put his hands up to his face. The crying from the kids in the backseat was drowning out all his other senses. Now, a crowd was gathering, watching him fail.

Finally, the paramedics arrived.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said. “I’m sorry. I stopped the crash,but I—I think she hit her head.”

“Would’ve been worse if they’d hit the bus,” the paramedic replied in a clipped tone.

Peter went to help the kids out of the backseat, but they recoiled from him, terrified.

“It’s okay, I’m Spider-Man. I’m here to help,” Peter tried. His voice came off as manic instead of reassuring.

Peter backed away. Obviously he was doing more harm than good here. He’d been patrolling for over three years, and he’d gotten into sticky situations, but he’d never lost anyone before. Was she going to be okay? Did he just orphan two kids?

He had to get out of there.

He cut patrol short and went back home to his apartment. Some days were harder than others, and this was a hard one.

His ears were ringing, even the sound dampeners in the suit hadn’t been enough to quell the sound of screaming kids and sirens. The chattering of the crowd watching him fail.

Peter took off the suit and threw it aside. He disappeared under his comforter and squeezed his eyes shut.

Peter couldn’t get his thoughts to calm down no matter what he tried. Was that woman okay? Thoughts of the ferry incident and Tony having to come and rescue him pervaded his mind. Was that all he was, even with the new suit? A screw up?

He didn’t fall asleep, but he hid in his bed for over an hour until the ringing in his ears quieted. A knock at the door was the last thing he wanted, but it was better than the ringing, so he decided not to ignore it.

Peter pushed his blankets away and walked to the door in his boxers . Probably May coming over to check on him

He unlocked the door and pulled it open only to be greeted by Bucky.

“Bucky. What are you doing here?”

He took in the man’s outfit. Much different from what he usually wore when they interacted. Peter had been on missions with him before and trained with him at the compound. They were friendly, but not house-call friendly.

“I was in the area.”

“Oh,” Peter said. “Uh. Come in I guess.”

“Thanks,” Bucky said politely.

The corner of Peter’s mouth lifted up a little bit at that. Bucky’s reputation was way darker than his actual personality.

Peter would’ve offered the guy a drink, or a snack, or something, but it occurred to him that he was almost naked.

“I, uh, I’ll go put something on.”

Bucky nodded. He stayed standing by the door to the apartment. Baseball cap, red henley, jeans, and all. Nothing like the murder costume he usually wore. Peter liked him like this, but still didn’t understand what the hell he was doing there, and why he’d chosen now of all times to visit.

Peter was tempted to put the Spidersuit back on so he could even the status quo of the impromptu encounter, but he didn’t want to look at it quite yet. He opted for his school sweatshirt and jogging pants.

He made is way back into the living room and plopped on the couch.

“You can sit,” Peter said. It was weird that Bucky didn’t do anything he wasn’t told to, but he was a polite person.

Bucky sat on the same couch, leaving a space between them.

“So, what brings you to Queens?” Peter asked.

“Wanted to see how you were doing.”

“I’m good,” Peter lied. “How’re you?”

Bucky ignored the question. “You don’t look so good.”

Peter frowned. “Thanks?”

Bucky sighed. “I saw what happened today.”

“How?” Peter wondered.

“The news.” Bucky shifted in his place.

“Okay.” What do you want?

“How are you doing?”

Peter looked away. Typical. He’d graduated from being under Tony’s watchful eye to being under Bucky’s. Did everyone watch the news to see him make mistakes?

“Shitty,” Peter admitted.

Bucky nodded like he approved of the honesty.

Peter let his expression change to reflect how he felt inside. Miserable.

“I did everything right.” Peter’s voice broke. “I don’t understand what happened. I don’t even know if the lady is okay…and the kids. I can still hear them crying.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Bucky said. “I watched the clip. Ifyou hadn’t been there, it would’ve been worse.”

“That’s what the paramedic said, but I don’t know. I must’ve grabbed the car wrong. If I hadn’t flipped when I came down…I could’ve been a second earlier.” Peter shook his head.

“You’ve been Spider-Man for so long,” Bucky began. “I’m kinda surprised something like this hasn’t happened sooner.”

Peter frowned. “What kind of advice is that?”

Bucky shook his head. “I mean you can’t save everyone.”

“I’ve saved everyone so far,” Peter replied. “I’ve dealt with guns and knives, and bombs. You’ve seen it yourself. I never lose anyone.”

“Maybe you still haven’t,” Bucky said.

“I’m scared to find out what happened,” Peter said. “You didn’t see the look on those kids’ faces.”

“They would’ve looked worse if they’d crashed,” Bucky countered.

Peter shrugged.

“Anyway.” Peter waved. “Why did you come? No offense, but we’ve never really hung out before, and I know you weren’t just in the area.”

Bucky looked away for a moment. “I get alerts on my phone. I sort of keep tabs on everybody.”

Peter raised his eyebrows.

“I watched the clips, and I could tell that you were freaking out,” Bucky explained. “I’ve never seen you act like that before, so I don’t know. Thought I’d come by.”

“Oh.” That was actually really nice of him. If Bucky had noticed him acting like that, then how many others had? How embarrassing.

“It wasn’t obvious,” Bucky added. “I could just tell ‘cause I know you.”

“Right.”

Bucky nodded again. “I’ll check now to see if there are any updates on that lady, okay?”

Peter nodded. He was glad Bucky was there to do it. He didn’t know what he’d do if he checked the news just to find out that she’d died. It would be all his fault.

Peter held his breath.

“No news,” Bucky announced with a grimace. “She’s still under.”

Peter leaned forward and put his head in his hands. “This is all my fault. I really did it this time. I don’t deserve the suit.”

“Whoa, Pete,” Bucky said, voice surprised. “You can’t say that.”

“It’s true.” Peter spoke into his hands. “What if she dies, Bucky? Her kids are all alone and scared…I probably looked like a freak to them. The last thing they needed.”

“Hey.” Bucky sounded uneasy. “None of this is your fault. How many people would be dead if you weren’t there patrolling? I would probably be dead if you weren’t on the team watching my back. Remember last year?”

Peter really didn’t want to cry, not in front of Bucky. Bucky had been through more than anyone he knew, and he didn’t cry.

“My parents died in a car crash too.” Oh shit. Now he was dry heaving. He should’ve known not to bring that up. “What—what if I—”

Peter was really crying now. He registered Bucky moving closer to him and putting his arms around him uncertainly. Peter leaned into the man’s embrace. If Bucky had come to check on him, then he might as well make it worth his while.

“Do you need me to call anyone?” Bucky asked, voice full of concern. “Can I do anything?”

Peter clutched Bucky’s shirt. He’d have to get him a new one even if the snot and tears were washable. He was crying too hard to speak.

“Would it help if I stayed?”

“Y-yes,” Peter managed. “Please.”

“You got it, Pete. I’ll stay. As long as you want.”

Peter knew he and Bucky weren’t close enough for this to be appropriate, but the man was just so warm and inviting. Peter wanted to keep some semblance of dignity for himself, so he backed away as soon as his sobbing calmed down, wiping his face on his sleeve.

“I’m sorry.” Peter ducked his head. “I didn’t mean to.”

“No harm done,” Bucky said. “I came here to check on you, and I’m glad I did. I would hate to think of you being here all alone like this.”

“Still. It’s embarrassing,” Peter admitted. “I just…the heightened senses are sort of a package deal with heightened emotions, too.”

“Even if that wasn’t the case…you don’t have to apologize for crying.”

“Everyone already thinks of me as a little kid. Youngest one on the team. Nobody else cries like this over an accident.”

“Not that you see,” Bucky argued. “And I don’t think of you like that.”

“Yeah, but you came here to check on me. You wouldn’t have done that for anyone else.”

“You’d do it for me. You have.”

“That’s different,” Peter argued. “You got shot.”

“Seeing people hurt is like bullets to you.”

Peter frowned.

“Besides,” Bucky said. “Everyone else has people to check upon them. We don’t.”

“I guess.” Peter wiped his face on his sleeve again. “Thank you,” he added. “It does suck being here alone most of the time.”

“I know how you feel.” Bucky leaned forward and wiped a straggling tear from Peter’s cheek.

Peter nodded. It really was nice to have Bucky there with him. He was such a quiet and calm presence. Large but not overbearing. Just safe.

“I’ll get you some water,” Bucky said. “Then I’ll check the news again.”

“Okay,” Peter agreed.

He used the opportunity to blow his nose and make sure he didn’t look disgusting. Now that he’d taken the edge off with a good cry, the feeling of excitement that Bucky was in his apartment came to the forefront ofhis mind. Bucky cared about him.

Bucky came back with a smile on his face. “Look.”

Peter stared at the phone with wide eyes. A new viral video of the woman from the car wreck with her kids beside her in the hospital bed thanking him for what he’d done.

Peter almost cried again in relief.

Bucky didn’t say anything, but he looked pleased.

“Thank God,” Peter breathed. “I can’t believe it.”

“Well, pal, I guess I should go then since you got nothing to worry about.”

“What?” Peter asked. “You don’t…you don’t have to go. I mean, unless you want to. I—you can still stay.”

Bucky smiled. “Let’s get something to eat, then. I think you could use it.”

“Okay.” Peter leapt up off the couch, his mood vastly improved. He hadn’t killed anyone. That was as good of a reason as any to be happy. “I’ll get you a different shirt too since I sort of wrecked yours.”

Bucky followed him into the bedroom this time. He took his dirty shirt off. “You sure I’ll fit? You’re kinda tiny.”

“I wear my clothes baggy.” Peter turned around while he answered, his breath getting caught in his throat at the sight of Bucky, shirtless.In his room. “Um. Here you go.” He grabbed blindly in his closet and ended up selecting a shirt with a science pun that totally wasn’t Bucky’s style.

Bucky put it on with a grin.

“Thanks again for coming,” Peter said once he was locking the door to his apartment with Bucky at his side.

“Thanks for letting me stay.”

Peter already had a crush, and this was not helping those feelings go away. He’d already embarrassed himself enough. Go big or go home,right? And he’d already locked the door, so…

He stood up on his tippy toes and kissed Bucky on the mouth.

“Sorry,” Peter offered. Was he really sorry, or just using that as a balm in case Bucky wasn’t happy about it? Both, probably.

“Don’t be,” Bucky said. His cheeks were rosy which Peter found to be the absolute cutest thing.

Bucky reached his hand out, and Peter took it. Somehow the worst day had turned into the best one.

#winterspider

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spideythot · 5 years

Note

Hello! How about Superior Iron Man with a little bit of A/B/O mixed in? Like Omega peter being so in love and in heat and Tony taking absolute advantage of it? Your writing is so beautiful 😍 (Starker)

Enjoy!! I’m always a sucker for A/B/O stuff~——Peter liked dream about his perfect Alpha. He didn’t care if his idea of a good mate was stereotypical – handsome, strong, able to take care of Peter without the omega having to work. Peter wouldn’t stop working of course, but he liked the idea. He imagined his dreams were pretty standard for omegas: an alpha who was friendly, good with kids, sweet and caring. He was shaken from his thoughts by Ned, who sat next to him on the bus. “Check it out,” the Beta said, pointing out the window, “Stark Tower.” Peter stared up at the building, gleaming silver in the sunlight. Stark was quite an Alpha, strong and attractive – bonded with Extremis. He was Iron Man, self-proclaimed American hero. Though, Peter knew the truth – Stark was a dangerous genius, master manipulator and murderer all carefully masked with his Iron Man persona.Peter filed off the bus, feeling just a little dizzy among the other students. His heat was on its way in, and he’d probably be skipping classes tomorrow. Flash pushed past him as they exited the bus and sneered, “Finally! Reeks like Omega in there!” Maybe he should’ve stayed home today, but he couldn’t miss this trip. He glared at Flash’s receding back. Alpha wannabe. He took a deep breath and followed Ned into Stark tower. The tour was pretty boring, considering all the technology that surrounded the students. Peter paid attention as best he could, but his guts were turning. He was hot, and his hips were cramping – the beginning symptoms of his heat. The students stopped in the R&D lab, for some hands-on activity and Peter excused himself to the bathroom. He rounded the corner of a hallway, on his way to where he’d last seen a restroom, and smacked into a firm body.“Oof!” he cried out, “Sorry, I was… ohmygod,” His words died in his throat as he stared up into the piercing, glowing, blue eyes of Tony Stark. Tony grinned down at him; his eyes narrowed ominously. The man took a deep breath in, and Peter felt his face flush. “Well, well,” Tony rumbled, “What have we here? Lost, little Omega?”“N-No…” Peter said. He found himself leaning forward, drawn in by Tony’s overwhelming Alpha scent. “The bathroom?” Tony clicked his tongue in understanding. He stepped to the side and held out his arm. Peter slid past him cautiously. Tony joined him, placing his hand on Peter’s lower back. He guided Peter down the hall toward an elevator – away from his tour group and nowhere near the toilets.Peter didn’t really realize what was happening, until they were stepping over the elevator threshold. “Mr. Stark,” he protested, stopping short in the doorframe. Tony gave him another push. “Its alright, kiddo,” the Alpha promised, “You’ll be safer upstairs than in the public bathrooms.” That did make sense. Peter nodded and allowed Tony to take him up in the elevator. Peter was suddenly too aware of the alpha standing next to him and the small space where their scents were mingling. Peter felt slick slipping out of him. He was sure his face was bright red. Tony smelled so amazing though, alpha musk mixed his expensive aftershave and engine oil. The elevator opened up Tony’s private penthouse at the tower. Peter glanced at the alpha who gestured for him to exit.Tony followed Peter into the home as the boy wandered in further. Peter gazed up at Tony, who was watching him with those icy, but amused eyes. “Down the hall, first door to the right,” Tony said wavering his hand in that direction. Tony couldn’t believe his luck. This adorable little Omega has stumbled right into him and responded perfectly to his every request. He had such a sweet smell, caramel sugar and sandalwood.Peter thanked him softly and quickly made his way to the door. He opened it and was surprised to find the bedroom on the other side.Tony was behind him again, hand gripping Peter’s hips. Peter shivered and put his own hands over Tony’s, ready to pry them off.“Its okay,” Tony assured, “I know what you need, little omega.” “Mr. Stark,” Peter whispered, “I can’t… we can’t…” “But you want to,” Tony insisted. “Don’t you?”Peter did… At least his body did. He was responding to Tony’s scent, slick pooling in his boxers, threatening to drip down his leg. His cramps were subdued now that an Alpha was holding him. But the ache to breed was growing. Tony would take care of him; he was an experienced Alpha. “I do…” Peter agreed, “but, you’re… and I’m just, it’s…”Tony kissed his neck, lips connected to his bonding gland, and Peter squeaked in surprise. “I’m Tony Stark,” the man said, “I can do whatever I please. And I want you, pretty little thing.” He pulled Peter’s hips flush against his, pressing his hard cock against the Omega’s ass. “You’re wet for me,” Tony said, “Like a good Omega should be. Wet for their Alpha.” Peter shuddered and whined. “Please,” he breathed, “It’s too much.”Tony walked them forward and pushed Peter onto the bed. “Tell me your name,” the man demanded. “Peter,” Peter replied, “Peter Parker.” He pulled his shirt off and tossed it aside. Tony rumbled again at the boy’s eagerness. He slipped out of his own shirt as Peter wriggled out of his jeans and ruined boxers. Peter scrambled to the center of the bed and laid on his front, knees bent under him so he was fully presented to Tony. “What a good little thing you are,” Tony complimented. He opened his slacks and crawled up behind Peter. Later, he was going to savor taking his Omega apart, fingering and teasing him relentlessly, but now he wanted to quickly make the boy his. Peter rolled his hips, hoping to entice Tony into moving faster. Tony pressed his cock into the Omega’s hot, slick hole. Peter groaned and tensed at the intrusion. Tony sank into him up to the knot. He allowed Peter a moment to adjust before he was thrusting away, rough and deep. Peter squirmed under him and moaned loud.“Yes, yes!” he cried, “Oh, Mr. Stark!”Tony pumped his hips harder. Peter was divine, hot and velvety on the inside, sucking Tony’s cock in so greedily. “You feel so good, baby,” Tony praised, “Gonna make you mine forever.”Peter nodded fervently, “Please, please!” he pleaded.Tony shoved his knot into the Omega’s tight hole, relishing in the way Peter arched off the bed, keening at the sensation. Tony held him there, arm crossed under Peter’s chest, hand around his throat. The Alpha leaned forward and sank his teeth into Peter’s bonding gland, drawing blood. Peter screamed and clenched down around Tony’s knot as he came hard. Tony buried himself deep in Peter, and began filling the boy with his seed. Peter trembled and whimpered.“Mr. Stark…” he moaned.Tony pulled his teeth from Peter’s neck and licked over the wound. “All mine now, Peter,” Tony purred. “My Omega. Forever.” Peter was so full, so content, so ready to just let Tony do whatever he wanted as long as he kept feeling this good. His mating bite tingled, pulsing with the growing bond Tony had given him.He sighed and promised, “Yours forever.”

#starker #peter x tony #au #alpha/omega #requests #superior iron man

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artemuerto · 4 years

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The Thing that lives under the Bed AU or Shadows.

Note: Please, listen to a song Cat Pierce feat James Levy- Regret by almost the end.

This was not what i imagined happening but as Cat release this song i couldn't help but to sank in it and imagine as Tony would feel Peter as much as the angsty song tells you. And i know that by those last lines it could led to a tragic end for Peter, but is up to you to decided if Peter falls asleep forever to dream of Tony of if he ever blinks again.

I did call him sleeping beauty for a reason.

@starker-sorbet, @thestarkerisobvious, @starkerprince

Read on AO3

Startdust and Moonlight

Up to next morning, Peter didn’t feel tired nor restless, he imagined he had dreamed last night, however his mind was foggy and he couldn’t remember what his dream was all about. A sharp knock on the door alerted him.

“C’mon sleeping beauty, it’s time to wake up.” Groovy with sleep Peter marched to the bathroom and got ready for the day. His hair was suffering from a crazy case of bed hair, sticking all over the place as if somebody had played with it before he went to sleep; a distant tune rang beneath him making him blink fast trying to remember. Where did the music come from?

Once again, May knocked on his door, only this time, she appeared smiling at him offering a warm cup of coffee.

“You’re getting late for school, kiddo.” Peter said his goodbyes running out of the apartment after kissing her cheek and stealing her breakfast.

Peter’s mornings were very similar and casual. Tones of boring classes, boring topics, interesting topics, horrible teachers and lots of screaming, whether is the Cafeteria flood with kids and hunger or the long hallways filling with swimming legs and rush breathes as more than one student seemed to late that day.

His one free period was usually taken by the library, on the days Ned and Gwen shared the same hours, they would stay together, eating snacks and talking about their days, their classes, the weekly gossip, dating and the walk of shamed to the principal’s office.

By the early afternoon, right after the bell rang and the students started to leave the school, Peter would take his time. The season was changing, the raging heat was slowly decreasing, although there was no obvious turning on the trees nor any sing of snow yet, surely autumn was taking his time to arrive. The sun still shined above their heads and painted the sky with blues and magentas reminding him of cotton candy on the Carnival.

Waiting for the subway wasn’t really a chore, at least not for Peter, sure May hated it on the rush hours when everyone was trap like a can of sardines, but even then for Peter was a whole experience. Low were the times where Peter would take a seat, and even if he got lucky he would prefer to give it away to someone who actually needed it. He liked to daydream about the lives of the people who traveled with him on short distances on the subway, where would they go? Where did they live? Did they like the subway like Peter or would they hate it like May? Would the people love being in such a restricting place or would they rather be on wide open spaces?

Like that foggy gray ancient mansion Peter used to visit when little.

Wait— what mansion?

Going into a tunnel with the flutter of passing birds, Peter closed his eyes and saw it. The long roads of ladders cover in dirt and dead leaves. The lonely looking mansion resting in dry land and open space, the bindweed created a slithering path that he wishes to dance upon. The creaking of leaves under his bare feet was a delighted sound as he danced an old tune in violin. Would anybody be there to dance with him?

The flashing light of warm sun brought him back to the present. The people around were unconcerned of his thoughts and soon one and another left their places by the time they reached their destination. Confusion clouded his mind, was it a dream? He could recall the fresh memory of a place he was sure; he had never been before even when the details were so firm in his brain. Perhaps he had seen it in class? History was never his forte but Peter could swear it was straight out of a Victorian novel, those which he and his classmate were force to read in literature and study their times in real life back in the 1800s.

Maybe, that’s what it was. A simple made of memory from a past class.

Peter went home without another thought feeling the soothing warmth of sleepy sun at the back of his neck, innocent to perceive the glooming darkness that soon came to follow.

That night the Shadow was small. The longing in their whole being was palpable but the Light was so bright and pure that they could not do much. They questioned what could have changed and what could have happened to their Master for him to be so different in a blink of an eye. Their eyes had not deceived them, Peter seemed happy, content, curious and joyful for the passing of nights where he could play with them, Peter went as far as dancing with them in their home and he looked so thrill; the Shadow thought they had found the one. But now their master was so gloomy, a pale shade of gray where not even his sight would light up the darkness.

What happened to master Peter?

They waited and hoovered, holding back and longing. They stood back until Peter came into his room.

* * *

Peter said goodnight to May with a long sigh, they were both tired after a long day and even when he had a pile of homework soon to become a mountain, Peter wanted nothing but to sleep and forget.

«What Master wants, Master gets. »

Under the covers Peter stayed wiggling his way into comfort, his puffy socks were on and his pillow was extra fluffy he felt swimming in the clouds, the air around him stilled. There was no rusting of wind or lonely dragonflies looking for their partners in the open, like a bubble of peace Peter was surrounded by calm and serenity.

Shadow peeked in curiosity ventured under the bed, slowly reaching the edge of its domain, they had never reached that far before, their limits were bound to the stretch of the bed and the cold floor beneath it. The Light had told them so.

«Impossible to go. Perish you will. Consumed and forgotten you be. »

The Shadow remembers those words, the words that left them powerless and lonely. Cast away in their home waiting, always waiting for someone who would come and dance once again. Fill their home with music and passion.

And surely he came.

Peter came stumbling around, touching the frozen walls of the mansion, painting marks of mist and fog, dark trails of obscurity where not even the selfish rays of light could reach them, the candles flickered, trembled in Peter’s passing. Peter was made to dance for them.

Thanks to Master Peter the Shadow could move, could walk and run, they could dance once again. So the Shadow would dance for Peter.

The roaming of music came in whispers. Peter wasn’t sure on how he knew but he was certain, soon he would be able to hear it all clearly. The shy notes sound peaceful and inquisitive, as if they were waiting for him. And waiting they were.

Bashful tunes came closer and closer, prompting him to walk freely on their soft rugs. Open doors greeted him but instead of the massive dance hall he was accustomed to see, his sight was different. A wide room with oval ceilings and spiders hanging from it with short flames of candles.

“Where am I?” Peter questioned. The flicks of darkness danced its way to him drawing snakes of forms to get his attention.

«Your room, Master. »

“My room?” The large bed was made, the bed post had creamy wavy curtains and nets with opaline wind chimes sparkling and giving light to the space.

«Yes. Yours. »

“How is this mine?” Peter came standing in front of the wavy shadow and extended his hand with clear intensions of touching but never being brave enough.

«His room. Happy Master. Room Master happy. »

Peter still didn’t understand how it came to be his. Who could have given him such room? Who lived in that place besides his friends. The friendly shadows that love to play and dance with him. As if sensing his thoughts, the shadow beamed looking bigger than before, faster than before. The shadow circled him, surrounded him and for seconds Peter feared, were the shadows going to hurt him? The last time he was in that same position, not only him but his uncle was also hurt.

«No. Master, happy. Master, dance. Clothes for Master. And Master dance. »

The Shadows wrapped him in spirals of feathers, later on Peter could picture the difference, the difference between the regular darkness he knew and the absolute blackness that soon followed his eyes to the point where he couldn’t even see himself nor the palm in front of him. His body took another shape, long lost was the soft camisole he always seemed to have in that place and now, a fit white dress shirt, a high neck and a soft cravat was decorating it, resting in the middle a dime of gold. His slacks of a pompous fabric, but quite fit and also white trousers. And all that pristine beauty shined over a burgundy jacket brocade in gold.

He had no trench coat as the Shadow seemed no need for it due to of the extensive waterfall of tail from the vest. Peter could not believe his eyes as he moved and twisted and twirled within himself. A full body mirror came in view and Peter saw himself for the first time.

«Beautiful. »

Peter wasn’t sure who was talking but he recognized the voice from before. The other times he had been in the mansion, they were there with him, all the shadows and whoever talked right now. He took careful steps reaching the mirror, the person standing at his back was at the far corner of the room, so Peter was not able to see him yet, the soft light trembled and soon after died as the mirror broke in tiny pieces.

“Please,” Peter begged with shaky hands, trailing shattered pieces of glass, the Shadow feared he would hurt himself. “Please, don’t go.” Closing his eyes, letting himself be consumed by the lack of light, Peter begged. “Please, I just want to see you.” The Shadow smiled and all the lights came to life creating a path for Peter to follow.

“Dance with me.”

* * *

Everything is easy in the middle of the night Your eyes are stars, your skin moonlight But with the sun there comes the truth It bares the soul and wastes the youth

* * *

With each passing breath Peter could see him better. His hands were cold to touch, Peter’s fingertips reaching the man’s hands with care as he let himself be led toward the center of the room, spinning around in harmony and light feet, Peter’s still bare feet slid smoothly barely feeling the lack of warmth when his whole attention was placed on the man he had to know yet.

“What’s your name?” his curious eyes did not escape the handsome features of the person dancing, Peter was trying to remember. He needed to remember this person, he was sure, he knew him somehow but from where.

“Our always curious Master.” The man smiled all teeth white and shiny, causing a shiver down his spine as Peter couldn’t look away. At that recognition flashed past his mind and Peter came closer as possible. Was it the shadow? Were his friends? The man nodded short but sweet and with a change of tune made Peter take a turn and bubbles of laughter fluttered out of his pale lips.

“But what do I call you?” What to call them? They were his friends, but keep calling ‘it’ or ‘they’ felt odd in a passive way, like he long to connect with them in a greater level. A name could bring love; a name could bring pain but still gave the warmth of memories and knowledge. A named could give meaning.

“I had many names before.” The man explained. “But in here, in our home…” To make a point, Peter twisted once again and was brought to a tight hug. “Master can call us what he wished to.”

“Peter.” He stated. And the man tilted his head to a side in question, like that Peter could take in all the little details. Long, dark lashes outlining whiskey warm eyes that never seemed to miss him, a strong jaw with full lips surrounded by a trim beard, raspy and soft looking.

“My new name is Peter?” Peter wanted to laugh but snorted instead.

“It’s mine.” The music soon came to an end but neither felt like moving away. “My name is Peter.”

«Peter. »

The honey dripping feeling he got from a simple whisper made him shiver and his friend feared he would get cold. They, both, would find a fitting name.

* * *

Hours spent walking and moving, traveling around the open halls and still rooms. The shadow followed close aching to never letting him go. Bright chandeliers on top of their heads and dying candles alerted them it was time to go. The Shadow hurt in longing, he had his master, he had a name and his strength was coming back because of it; his master was right. With a new meaning he could live again, live above from the binding shackles of fear were no longer in his wrist, his Master had given them so much live and love.

The Shadow stood next to Peter as the boy sighed in deep sleep, with no one else around, he could drink in all beauty his Master is, was and it would be in all eternity. With his long curls expanding over the white sheets of the pillows, protected from cold in his comfort cocoon of blankets, the Shadow reached down to touch him, however froze in impression and fondness. Even in his sleep, his master called for him.

“Tony.” To Tony, Peter was made of stardust when his eyes sparkle and moonlight shine of all his pristine skin each time he dares to feel under his fingertips. Meant to guide his path in the sea of black that was his existence. For a short amount of time, faster than a blink, Peter saw him. His master saw him materialized in his world, not the realm of dreams and wonder and smiled at him, called for him. “Tony—” He didn’t have to hide anymore; he didn’t have to be afraid anymore. With one touch of his lips and his Master would be utterly and completely his.

Closing his eyes and holding a breath, Peter thought if that was what it felt like to be loved to death.

#starker #pro starker #starker moodboard #The Thing That Lives Under The Bed AU #a very human Peter Parker #Dark Creature Tony #in english #mis escritos #Arte Muerto #Dark Tony

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tonystarkbingo · 4 years

Photo

TSB August Flash, Week 1!

We’re super excited for our flash bingo! It’s a fun event in between bingo rounds, and anyone can join. No signups required!

Just a reminder, unless you have all your bingo info easily available to the mods when you post your fills, they are not getting reblogged and added to the weekly roundups.

Title: Lucky Picture Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: AO3 Square Filled: TSB 019 - Howard Stark Ship: Maria/Howard, Tony & Maria, Pepperony Rating: Gen Major Tags: canon divergence, fix-it, feels Summary: What if, when Tony went back to 1970 to retrieve the Tesseract… it wasn’t Howard Stark he met at the SHIELD base? Word Count: 3164

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Title: Juice Pop Hero Collaborator: newnewyorker93 Link: AO3 Square Filled: 019 - accidentally saving the day Ship: Tony & Morgan Rating: Gen Major Tags: Domestic Fluff, Parent Tony Stark Summary: Tony and Morgan share their first late night juice pop. Word Count: 939

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Title: Welcome Home Collaborator: dracusfyre Link: AO3 Square Filled: 018 - Floating Free Space (Polyamory/Open Relationship) Ship: Stuckony Rating: Teen Major Tags: none Summary: Tony and Bucky welcome Steve home from a rough mission. Word Count: 1341

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Title: Confectionary Crassness Collaborator: Politzania Link: AO3 Square Filled: 019 - Doughnuts Ship: Pepperony Rating: Gen Major Tags: mildly vulgar Summary: Happy brings pastries to Pepper & Tony and a private joke is revealed. Word Count: 469

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Title: Iron Doughnuts Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: AO3 Square Filled: 019 - Doughnuts Ship: Pepperony Rating: Gen Major Tags: pixel pattern Summary: Iron Family doughnuts pixel pattern

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Title: Donuts Collaborator: von_gelmini Link: AO3 Square Filled: 019 - Doughnuts Ship: Starker Rating: Gen Major Tags: Moodboard Summary: N/A

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Title: A Nominal Change Collaborator: newnewyorker93 Link: AO3 Square Filled: 019 - Howard Stark Ship: Pepperony Rating: Gen Major Tags: Fluff, Post-Endgame Summary: While recovering from using the Infinity Stones, Tony tells Pepper about "Howard Potts" Word Count: 200

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Title: The Avengers Half-Dozen Collaborator: newnewyorker93 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: 019 - Doughnuts Ship: None Rating: Gen Major Tags: Art Summary: Colored pencil drawing of Avengers-themed doughnuts

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Title: Echeneis Hammerensis Collaborator: dracusfyre Link: AO3 Square Filled: 018 - Justin Hammer Ship: none Rating: Not Rated Major Tags: none Summary: Tony offers an olive branch to Justin Hammer. Word Count: 724

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Title: love in every sip Collaborator: chirriko Link: Tumblr Square Filled: 015 - coffee Ship: Stony Rating: Gen Major Tags: none Summary: Tony has a secret admirer that makes him coffee every morning and leaves him little notes on napkins. Word Count: 1918

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Title: Beyond All The Sighs Collaborator: dixiehellcat Link: AO3 Square Filled: 020 - polyamory (adopted) Ship: Pepper/Tony/Rhodey Rating: Teen Major Tags: polyamory, mutual pining, SO MUCH pining for such a short fic. Summary: Three people pining. Two are too noble to interfere with what they think the other ones could have. One's just clueless (that's the genius). Somebody please use your words! Word Count: 1501

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Title: Stop Dragon My Heart Around - Chapter 1 Collaborator: 27dragons, tisfan Link: AO3 Square Filled: 020 - Fantasy AU Ship: WinterIron Rating: Explicit Major Tags: dragon AU, Sacrifice! Bucky, Dragon!Tony, lingerie, crack treated seriously, Steve Rogers is an idiot, found family (with a dragon), it takes a village Summary: Bucky is left as a sacrifice to the great dragon who has invaded Hydra territory. Tony's... not sure what to do with that. Sacrifices are a giant pain in the tail... Word Count: 4860

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Title: Don’t you dare Collaborator: LBibliophile Link: AO3 Square Filled: 020 - Blueberries Ship: WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: Insomnia, Midnight baking, Flour, Dub-con hug (friendly), moodboard and drabble Summary: Bucky looks at the kitchen, covered in flour. He looks at Tony, arms open for a hug, apron rather well camouflaged with said kitchen..."Don't you dare –” Word Count: 100

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Title: One Cloth, One Broth Collaborator: HogwartsToAlexandria Link: AO3 Square Filled: 017 - Coffee Shop AU Ship: Stony Rating: Mature Major Tags: Established Relationship, Implied Sexual Content Summary: They're all set for the big launch tomorrow, only one thing left to be done — have sex on their brand new washing machines. Word Count: 367

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Title: Welcome to the Good Place Collaborator: eachpeachpearplum Link: AO3 Square Filled: 020 - Fantasy AU Ship: None Rating: Teen Major Tags: Good Place AU so they're all already dead, Good Place spoiler, dysphoria due to the Good Place essentially superserum-ing Steve Summary: Dying sucked, but Steve has apparently made it to the Good Place. If only he didn't have a niggling feeling that something isn't right here... Word Count: 494

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Title: Crossed Wires Collaborator: Politzania Link: AO3 Square Filled: 019 - Roommates/Neighbours Ship: IronHusbands Rating: Teen Major Tags: pining!Tony, college AU Summary: Tony’s afraid a few careless words spoken on the phone have cost him his friendship with Rhodey. Word Count: 1055

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Title: Hypotheticals Collaborator: dracusfyre Link: AO3 Square Filled: 018 - Time Travel Ship: None Rating: Gen Major Tags: None Summary: Post-Snap, the Endgame team talks time travel "what ifs." Word Count: 1216

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Title: Learning Curve Collaborator: Politzania Link: AO3 Square Filled: 019 - I Am Iron Man Ship: None Rating: General Major Tags: Drabble, Missing Scene Summary: Agent Philip Coulson loses a bet and learns from his mistake. Word Count: 100

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Title: Make Me Another? Collaborator: HogwartsToAlexandria Link: AO3 Square Filled: 017 - Cheeseburgers Ship: Happy/Tony Rating: Gen Major Tags: Established Relationship, Fluff Summary: Happy's nervous about his cooking. Word Count: 404

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Title: See You Soon Collaborator: HogwartsToAlexandria Link: AO3 Square Filled: 017 - Ultron Ship: ThunderIron Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Canon Divergence: Age of Ultron, Explicit Sexual Content Summary: Thor is leaving for the outer circles of space, they'll miss each other badly enough, Tony knows, that they almost say the words right there and then. I love you. Word Count: 480

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Title: A Whole Family Collaborator: HogwartsToAlexandria Link: AO3 Square Filled: 017 - IronDad Ship: Pepperony Rating: Gen Major Tags: Family Fluff Summary: No matter what he likes to thinks, Tony isn't as young as he once was, and sitting through Star Wars for the umpteenth time in his life is just not possible. Word Count: 299

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Title: Only One (Space) Bed Collaborator: HogwartsToAlexandria Link: AO3 Square Filled: 017 - Bed Sharing Ship: Stony Rating: Gen Major Tags: Getting Together, Sharing a Bed, Idiots in Love Summary: Steve's pretty when he sleeps. He's equally pretty when he pretends to do so. Word Count: 535

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Title: respite Collaborator: chirriko Link: Tumblr Square Filled: 015 - adopted prompt "intimacy without sex" Ship: Stony Rating: Teen Major Tags: hurt/comfort, panic attacks Summary: It was okay, even though it really wasn’t, even though Tony had spent forty minutes shaking violently and having consecutive panic attacks that grew in power each time, drawing potential energy from Tony’s exhaustion, from his fear, from his debilitating, raw vulnerability. Word Count: 1655

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Title: It was Wednesday before, now it’s Wednesday again Collaborator: Purple_ducky00 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: 016 - Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist Ship: WinterIron, ShieldWidow Rating: Mature Major Tags: coffeeshops, time loop Summary: Natasha and Tony have to figure out how to get out of a time loop Word Count: 2629

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Title: The Princes And The Pauper - Chapter 2: The Scars You Left On Me Collaborator: Fighting_for_Creativity Link: AO3 Square Filled: 01- "doghnuts" swapped with "Secret Siblings, especially evil twins" from the Adoptees Ship: Stony Rating: Mature Major Tags: non-graphic torture, force feeding, refusal to eat, restraints, emotional pain, imprisonment, escape Summary: Anthony endures his imprisonment until he isn't Word Count: 2379

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Title: Good Job, I'm Saved Collaborator: deehellcat Link: AO3 Square Filled: 020 - Thanos Ship: Tony & Morgan, Pepperony Rating: Teen Major Tags: Iron Family, Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Tony Stark Lives, the Russos whomst, idk them, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Precious Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Nightmares, Dream Sharing Summary: Tony's recovery after the Snap is slowed by traumatic night terrors, until an unexpected hero comes to his aid. Word Count: 1676

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Title: The Most Spoiled Fish In Existence Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: AO3 Square Filled: 019 - Roommates/Neighbors Ship: Tony & Rhodey, minor Pepperony Rating: Gen Major Tags: animal transformation, crack, Tony is Very Stressed Summary: Tony finds a fish in his lab. Why would someone give him a fish? This remains a mystery, until he realizes that a particular Honeybear of his has simultaneously gone missing... Word Count: 4288

#tonystarkbingo #tsbflash #tsbfmiv #weekly roundup #flash week 1

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twokinkybeans · 3 years

Note

Hello! I absolutely love all of your stories! I have a request, can you do a Starker story where Peter and his class go on a field trip to stark tower? I don’t really mind what happens there I just really want to see the ship. If you can thanks so much 💗

THIS GOT OUT OF HAND SO HERE IS CHAPTER 1/3!

Tower Excursions - Chapter 1: Science Rules

(Read it on AO3)

Summary: Peter is 9 years old. Parents still alive. Still friends with Flash. They go on an excursion to Stark Industries, right before the events of Iron Man 2. Side note: Tony is not romantically/sexually interested in Peter until chapter 3, when they are in an established relationship. Warnings: Even though Peter and Flash are still friends in this chapter, Flash is already bullying him. Other than that, not much, tbh?

Rating: Mature (just to be sure for later on lol).

I hope you enjoy! -Lien

...

“Mister Thompson, you’re old enough to know you shouldn’t stand in a driving bus, please take a seat,” the young teacher sighs while tightening the pony tail on her head. They’re nearly at Stark Tower now, so obviously it was difficult for most students to keep their cool. They all showed it in their own way. Flash got even more talkative and jumpy, something Peter never understood. They’re best friends, have been since kindergarten, and they know each other inside and out. When excitement hit Peter, he turned more inward, like a star waiting to implode, as opposed to Flash’s bomb waiting to explode. They were opposites, yet it fit. Obviously, the school wanted to go to Stark Tower to get them interested in science and technology, something both Flash and Peter already kind of were. However, anybody who cared even the slightest, was more excited to get a glimpse of Tony Stark. Of Iron Man. The metal hero. Even though the chances were slim, they couldn’t help but bounce on the bus seats. Because, what if… The class was going to go and do some kind of interactive walk through the building’s public spaces, with one special look inside a child-friendly lab. Erica had quietly asked how they would be able to get inside a dog and Mrs. Marie had to calmly explain that a laboratory and a Labrador are two very different things. … About two hours after they arrived, they’re in the child-friendly lab. During the tour of the building, nearly everyone forgot about Tony Stark. The place itself is wonderous and gigantic. It’s filled with moving gadgets and displays of future technology. The famous Arc Reactor gets promoted on pretty much every banner they pass. The students were allowed way more than they were at Oscorp two weeks earlier. Stark Industries sure sparked the kids’ interest in science and technology, as was the goal of this trip. Most of the other students were involved in the interactive tests, but Peter had seen all of that fairly quickly. He wanted to know more about the science behind it- he didn’t just want to watch it happen. Peter was all over the place. He’s wearing his dad’s favorite “Science Rules” cap – he was allowed to borrow it for the day – and bounces from desk to desk, asking endless questions that the pedagogically trained scientists answered accordingly. Some seemed surprised by Peter’s brightness, but the young boy didn’t really notice as he was usually quickly distracted by the next shiny project someone else was working on. With a short: “Thank you, bye!” he made his way to the other scientists in the room. “Peter, check this out!” Peter rushes towards Flash, who called for him. The boy has his face pressed against a glass balustrade that looks out over four levels of open space. “What is it?” Peter asks as he mimics Flash’s pose, pressing his open palms and his nose on the surface. “Are you blind?!” Flash exclaims, nodding at the ground floor, two floors below them. Peter follows his friend’s gaze and gasps when he spots him. “Tony Stark!” Both kids immediately waddle their feet in their place, not daring to look away from the legend who is having a casual chat with a red-haired woman. Peter and Flash giggle with delight, but eventually fall silent. “We should go say hi,” Flash whispers. “We- We can go say hi!” “As if! I’m not going down there,” Peter replies, not taking his eyes off Tony. “He’s probably super busy.” Peter is startled when he notices Flash reaching out for him. The boy grabs Peter’s father’s cap from his head and swiftly tosses it over the balustrade. “Flash! No!” Peter shouts as he stands up straight to reach over the fence in an attempt to grasp the cap. When he fails, all both kids can do is watch the hat fall and fall and fall and it seems to take forever before… Thunk. Flash’s face pales and he runs off, leaving Peter – who is frozen in fear – behind. The boy is stuck, clutching the balustrade with both hands as he stares wide-eyed at how Tony Stark picks up the cap that hit his shoulder on the way down. He reads the words that are on it and then looks up, making eye contact with Peter. The boy is so caught up that he barely notices security freaking out around Tony for what happened, but the man dampens the situation by raising the cap above his head and pointing at it with his free hand, nodding up at Peter. “This yours?” … Peter took the blame. He didn’t want Flash to get in trouble and so, both he and Mrs. Marie get taken to a separate room by security. The woman chuckles nervously, certain that she screwed up for losing track of Peter, and that she’ll never be allowed back in Stark Industries. Peter just feels massive guilt for inconveniencing so many people. After a minute of scared silence, the door opens. “But, sir-“ “It’s alright.” Peter perks up at the voice he has heard on TV so much. He turns, jaw slack, as he looks up in awe at Tony Stark, wearing his cap. The man’s attention turns from the security guard to Peter. “Mister Stark, I am so sorry-“ Mrs. Marie stands up and squeezes her hands together, bowing her head in shame. “Don’t worry about it. If I didn’t want things like this to happen I wouldn’t have opened my labs to youngsters.” Something about Tony’s words seems off, like he was frustrated that she distracted him from why he was here. “You can go, I wanna talk to the boy. Alone.” “Tha- sir, that’s highly unorthodox-“ Mrs. Marie protests, but one stern look has her press her lips together. “Just wanna talk about the cap.” Tony shows a tight smile and gestures at the door. “Besides, I believe you still have three hours left to keep an eye on your other students during this excursion.” Mrs. Marie rushes out after quickly thanking Tony for not being in trouble. He leaves the door open and sits down in the desk chair opposite Peter. “Richard Parker?” Tony says casually as he places his feet on top of the desk and cocking his head. He takes off the cap and shows the little label with the handwritten name inside of it. “Tha- ehm…” Peter stutters. “My dad,” he pushes out quickly. “Huh,” Tony says with a curt nod, turning the cap to look at the front again. “Smart guy. Had a couple chats with him a while back.” Peter’s eyes widen in shock. “You know my dad?” “I mean, he’s not in my phone’s contact list, but we’ve had some talks at conventions before.” Tony puts his feet down and leans forward. His elbows rest on the desk. Peter frowns slightly when he sees some dark lines in Tony’s neck. Are those his veins? “Which has me wonder if you’re bright as he is.” “I’m nine,” Peter retorts without thinking. Tony snorts surprised and can’t help a chuckle. “You sure are.” The man seems to ponder for a bit and then he tosses the cap on the desk. “Tell you what, kid.” Peter swallows, scared that this is the hour of reckoning. As much as Tony doesn’t seem angry, Peter is still afraid that he will get punished for what happened. “You get to ask me one question.” The boy frowns again, so Tony quickly continues. “If it’s a good one, you get your cap back and you can go.” Peter opens his mouth, immediately knowing what to say, but Tony raises his index finger, stopping the kid from talking with just a gesture. “If it’s a great one, I’ll give you a tour of the place myself.” Peter immediately wants to ask what the difference between a good and a great question is, but realizes that would be an immediate throwaway of the one question he is allowed to ask. The stakes are high, he can’t screw this up. He licks his lips and takes a breath. His head bows down to look at his fiddling fingers and then back up, noticing the faint glow coming through Tony’s dress shirt. “I read somewhere that the arc reactor uses cool fusion to regulate temperature…” Tony’s eyebrows shoot up surprised. “But I- when we went to Oscorp two weeks ago, we talked about nuclear energy and there someone said the most ideal element to use for cool fusion is palladium.” Peter swallows. “If that is in your body… How do you keep it from poisoning you?” The man’s jaw tightens and his expression sterns. “Still working on that,” he mumbles, nearly quiet enough for it to go past Peter. Peter blinks. Once. Twice. Did he just ask a question even Tony Stark himself has no answer to? No sound is made for a full minute. Peter can hear his heartbeat thump between his ears, though his breathing is slow. “How old did you say you are?” Utter disbelief seeps from Tony’s words. “Nine, sir.” “Jesus Christ.” “Does that mean it was a great question?” This time, it’s Tony who blinks. Once. Twice. “Yes, kid.”

#starker #(though not yet)#peter parker #tony stark #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #AO3 fanfic #fan fic #fanfiction #fan fiction #kinkybeanlienwrites #iron man #ironman #spiderman #spider-man

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sublimestarker · 5 years

Text

The harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the rain

Info: This is for day 1 of starker week. Angst, fluff, more angst. Someone had to rewrite IW and Endgame.

Peter wanted to enjoy one school trip. But as soon as he felt on edge and saw a huge spaceship, he knew that that was a job for Spider-Man. So he got Ned to cause a distraction and he went on to save the day again. But apparently he was saving more than the day, because when Peter stopped the villain he saw Tony.

"What's up, Mr. Stark?" he said, trying to sound cool and nonchalant, despite the pressure of this guy's hammer.

"Kid, where'd you come from?"

"Field trip to MoMA. What is this guy's problem, Mr. Stark?"

"He's from space. He came here to steal a necklace from a wizard.". After getting a few hits in the villain, Mr. Stark said.

"Kid, that's the wizard. Get on it."

"On it!" The younger hero felt bad about leaving his mentor, Tony could get hurt or worse. But this time the world was just a tiny bit more important than Mr. Stark.

Peter was swinging, chasing after the alien which looked like a whitewalker. Why was it after a flying wizard and why did it just float on a pile of rocks? Spider-Man had just grabbed the wizard when a blue light from the spaceship pulled them up.

"Uhh, Mr. Stark? I'm being beamed up!" Peter said desperately. This wasn't happening, he didn't sign up for this. He was holding in for dear life, as the ship went up. Mr. Stark yelled to him.

"Pete, you gotta let go. I'm gonna catch you."

"But you said save the wizard!" He was getting more dizzy by the second, needing more air, he pulled off his mask. That didn't help, so he said

"I can't breathe!" in hopes that Mr. Stark knew what to do.

" You're too high up. You're running out of air."

"Yeah! That makes sense." With a final gasp for air Peter passed out and started falling. A pod stuck itself to him, quickly turning his suit in a new model, similar to Tony's.

"Mr. Stark, it smells like a new car in here!"

" Happy trails, kid. F.R.I.D.A.Y, send him home."

"Yep."

Peter didn't understand how the A.I. would do that, but then a parachute emerged, sending him back to Earth.

"OH, COME ON!"

Peter decided to listen to Tony for once and not stick to the ship like he originally planned. After nearly dying already, he was ready to go back home.

Thanks to F.R.I.D.A.Y, he was back in Queens, safe and sound.

No one called Peter to the final battle. No one warned him about the potential destruction of the world. No one explained to him why his aunt turned to dust. So he watched the news, watched as thousands of people were announced to be missing.

Peter spent days all alone. Everyone he loved was gone - May, Ned, MJ and even Tony. He felt guilty - he couldn't prevent this, he didn't help the Avengers. He couldn't be the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man anymore. Peter called Happy over and over again, wanting to return his suit. The bodyguard finally picked up, glad to hear the superhero's voice.

Peter spent a few days in the Avengers compound. At first he was just there to leave the suit, but it was refreshing to spend some time with everyone else. They all had something in common - they lost someone. Steve had lost Bucky, Rhodey had lost Tony, they all had lost Sam and Wanda.

Peter was about to leave, he was out of the door and in the yard when the ground shook violently. Soon everyone was with him watching as someone landed a spacecraft. Peter could make out a blue android or alien or something else entirely supporting Tony. Before the teen could move Steve ran to Tony, helping him stand up. Tony grips Steve's arm as he joins him. Peter just moves back and listens to them talk.

"I couldn't stop him."

"Neither could I."

"I lost them."

"Tony, we lost."

"Is ummm... Pepper okay?"

"I'm sorry Tony."

Tony had been in space for 22 days, he was weak and malnourished, he looked moments away from death. And when he heard that, he was about ready to die. But there still was a sliver of hope.

"And the kid?" Peter stepped forward.

"I'm right here, Mr. Stark." Tony embraces him and whispers in his ear.

"You should be home."

"May's gone." Peter says back.

"Let's get inside."

They all sat down, Tony with an IV in his arm. Natasha started filling them in.

"It's been 23 days since Thanos came to Earth. World governments are in pieces. The parts that are still working are trying to take a census. And it looks like he did... exactly what he said he was going to do. Thanos wiped out fifty percent, of all living creatures."

"Where is he now? Where?"

"We don't know. He just opened a portal and walked through."

They talked about Thor, about Thanos. Peter zoned out, just watching his mentor in awe. Tony was back, finally. Then it all happened, it was like he was in a daze. He heard Mr. Stark arguing with Cap, saw Tony's weak body get up, ready to fight, calling Steve a liar, he watches how Tony rips his Arc Reactor from his chest and shoves it into Steve's hand, saying something. Tony falls to the ground, losing consciousness. Peter stayed by his side.

Peter stayed by his side after that too. They were in a cabin, all by themselves. Peter knew that it was meant for Tony and Pepper. It was evident by the queen bed. The bed that he sometimes crawled into after a nightmare. They shared their first kiss on that bed. It was needy and desperate, passionate and a little bittersweet. After that their relationship was complicated. It took time for Tony to accept that his feelings weren't wrong and that his partner was a consenting adult. It took time for Peter to realise that he wasn't just a rebound. But they both healed and they started their lives again. They went on dates, lived together, they even talked about their future. They never married, Tony was still technically married to Pepper. Peter still wore a wedding band, Tony made them a pair.

He fiddled with it as he watched Steve, Scott and Natasha talk to his partner. Tony returns without a word. He tells Peter about their plan and he thinks about it. Pete doesn't say anything about it. They eat dinner and Tony stays behind to do the dishes. He looks up to see a picture of Peter and May. Maybe he has something to fight for.

When he tells Pete, the latter panics. He accuses Tony of just wanting Pepper back, for wasting 5 years of their lives.

After Tony explains they go to the lab and work. They figure it out and Tony wants them to go to the compound.

Peter gulps and says.

"I don't wanna go. I don't I'll be able to help when you're in danger. Just be safe okay, I don't want to loose you again."

"I know, baby. Peter, I love you 3000."

"I love you 3000 too."

#ironspider #starker #peter x tony #tonyxpeter #starkerweek2019

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starkeristheendgame · 4 years

Text

Starker Valentine

Firstly, I want to start by wishing @softstarkerstuff a wonderful Happy Valentine’s, and also every other wonderful noodle that may see this! This is my second time participating in a challenge and I am beyond excited! Softstarker requested a High School AU where childhood best friends drift apart after Tony rejects Peter’s feelings for him. Naturally, Peter has the mother of all glow-ups over summer and Tony is quickly forced to reconsider.

I didn’t wanna go absolutely crazy on the word count for this, so I haven’t actually written out the majority of the backplot. This fic takes place after said rejection and focuses on the requested act of Tony developing his character in order to deserve Peter’s affections.

(I said that and this ended up being over 4,000 words!)

@starker-valentines

TW: Light Angst | (Not) Unrequited Love

“Tony. Get up,” Natasha hissed above him, and ordinarily the glint in her eye would have been enough for Tony to hop to, but the situation outweighed whatever horrible consequence she could bestow him, and he shook his head.

“We live here now,” Clint shrugged happily, popping another nacho into his mouth from the bowl he’d swiped before joining Tony in an act of solidarity on the floor, hiding behind a countertop in the kitchen. Natasha arched a dangerous eyebrow at the other boy, and even Tony twisted to look at Clint.

“Why are you down here?” Tony asked, risking leaning over Clint’s thighs to peek around the corner. Fuck. He couldn’t see him anymore, but that didn’t mean it was safe to move. He blew out a harsh breath and curled back up against the counter, scowling.

“Barnes has that leather jacket on again,” Clint announced simply, as though that explained anything at all. Above them, Natasha heaved a put-upon sigh, settling for kicking Tony in the shin with an unimpressed frown.

“Him I can understand,” she begun, motioning to Clint, who paused like he didn’t actually know if he ought to be offended or not. “But you. I had higher expectations of,” she sniffed, eyes scanning the room behind them before she reached down, grasping a fist of their shirts and hauling them to their feet despite their yowls of protest and clamours to hide behind her.

Heart in his throat, Tony cast a quick glance around, but couldn’t find the object of his fears. Or... The person. He relaxed a fraction, mindlessly pawing at Natasha’s iron grip with the dull awareness that his shirt would likely be crumpled.

“Idiots. The both of you. If I were less of a friend I’d complain about you ruining my night,” Natasha sniffed as she begun to drag them out of the kitchen, Clint still desperately clinging to his snacks and having no qualms about stealing a bowl. Tony kept himself alert as they walked, fugitively scanning the rooms as they made their way towards the door.

He couldn’t exactly say he lamented leaving - Contrary to every single clichè American film, high school house parties were often measly affairs, more pizza than booze and always with that one weirdo pretending they were absolutely wasted off alco-pops and mixers.

This party was largely no different, thumping music that made it hard to talk, pizza that had long gone cold and Tony would rather starve than touch, shitty drinks with a 4% content.

Mm, but no. What made this party truly, utterly horrific, was the fact that Peter Parker had shown up. And really, that sounded meaner than it was intended. Tony didn’t hate Peter - Not even close. Wasn’t disgusted by his presence but terrified of it.

Peter was - Or rather, had been, his best friend. This is where Tony’s sort kind of did realise the typical ‘teen film’ plot.

Boy meets boy. Boys grow up as childhood best friends, joined at the hip and vowing during recess to never, never, ever break friends. Boys navigate pre-teenhood together. Boy gets crush.

Apparently, other boy also gets crush. Boy admits crush. Other boy is too emotionally repressed and terrified to admit crush. Boy rejects boy. Summer comes. Boy gets glow up. Other boy now doubly regrets rejection and is left to wallow in pitiful regret and jealousy.

Yeah. Tony liked it about as much as he liked Marmite, which was to say, not at all. When Peter had rolled over on their bed, eyes imploring and voice soft as he admitted his feelings, something within Tony had died.

Because Peter was this perfect, pretty thing he was destined to never have. The flower that Tony was too scared to pick because he didn’t want to see it wither and die.

“He’s gone all thinky and melancholy again,” Clint complained at his side, and Tony thumped him on the shoulder, tripping over the welcome mat as Natasha lugged them along like reluctant suitcases.

Tony would have given a smart quip in response, something scathing about how Clint was also running away from someone, but a soft voice interrupted the quiet of the front yard just as they reached Tony’s car.

“Tony?”

Fuck. Fuck. Don’t turn around. It was easy to pretend he hadn’t heard, grabbing Clint by the scruff to stop the moron from turning and waving as they hauled into the car. He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t face it. Him.

They were barely even in the car before Tony begun to pull away, Clint and his nachos rolling around in the back as the teen struggled to buckle himself in. From her seat up front, Natasha eyed him.

“Coward,” she announced, and Tony immediately agreed without shame. He was, of course. He was a coward. Had been from the start, from the moment he was old enough to let his feelings morph from the love of a friend to just...Love. He drove with a grim expression and an ache in his chest that felt like drowning.

He lay in bed for the remainder of the night, nose filled with chamomile and flora and heart aching with every memory that encompassed all that he had left of Peter. He had run away that night, recoiling from the prospect of ruining something he loved, and knowing he was ruining it by running. A vicious circle; a rat maze he was destined to run forever.

The torture of it had only increased upon their return, when cheeks round with baby-fat had slimmed and sharpened, when Peter’s unruly curls had smoothed into rolling, silky waves. He’d worked out over summer a little too, no longer just slim but lean. Summer glow-ups were nothing new, but Peter’s had hit hard.

Peter’s new looks had only succeeded in turning him from a neutral, friendly nerd to the newfound adoration of Queen’s Public High School, the boy suddenly inundated with attention and propositions. Peter seemed to have taken it in stride, not exchanging his personality for popularity, and still sat with the same two friends at lunch, still studied hard and ignored the feral social ladder.

It only made Tony love him all the more.

His sleep was restless and by Monday he was tired and grouchy, stalking through the halls towards his locker with a pair of deep shades covering his stinging eyes. Natasha cast him a glance as sympathetic as she could offer when she had made her opinion of his torment clear, and steered him towards first period.

Peter was already there when they arrived, slouched over his desk and engaged in an enigmatic conversation with Ned. Tony allowed his gaze to linger for exactly six seconds before he slumped in his own desk, decidedly across the room from Peter and slightly in front, so he wouldn’t have to spend any of his lessons watching the other boy and lamenting the loss of his warmth.

A shadow fell over his desk and Tony slowly lifted his head from where he had been staring at the floor, willing his migraine to jump ship. The shadow belonged to one Steve Rogers, who’s summer glow up had happened over the previous year, and who had gone from your average joe with pretty eyes and a jawline to a six foot tall, broad-shouldered, lean hunk of very biteable meat. If Tony wasn’t fairly (entirely) certain one Bucky Barnes would knock all his teeth out, he’d have tried a taste.

“Can I help you?” he asked blearily, tipping his head so his glasses dipped and he could see Steve without a vignette of black. Steve merely raised an eyebrow, and Tony narrowed his eyes suspiciously in response.

“Hm.” And then Steve turned away, striding towards his own desk. Tony blinked dazedly at the now empty space, cast a sideways glance at Steve who sat down and begun to talk to Clint without a peek in return, and sighed. Ah. So Peter’s presumable warning about not going after Tony for breaking his heart must be nearing its end, then.

Wonderful.

At lunch, Tony snuck off campus and drove to the nearest Starbucks, returning to Natasha’s side with a coffee that was more espresso than water. He slouched in his seat and gave a pathetic whine, rubbing at his temples, and she slid a manicured hand through his hair, deliberately catching the tips of her nails on his scalp.

“If you weren’t such an emotionally repressed baby, you wouldn’t be like this,” she ‘soothed’ gently, and he cast her a sideways scowl.

“Yes, thank you for that. Nothing compares to your compassion and support,” Tony grumbled, scowling at her from behind his glasses. He needn’t remove them - she knew him well enough by now. Across the table Clint leaned forwards, petting idly at Tony’s forearm whilst his gaze remained steadily on Bucky from across the hall.

“Thighs like that should be illegal,” he sighed dreamily, and Tony and Natasha raised a brow in unison. Tony wasn’t the only one afflicted with love-interest related drama; Clint had gone and fallen in utter besottment with Bucky Barnes, also known as the second side of Steve Rogers’ coin.

Unlike Steve; Bucky had always been tall and broad, with a slick haircut and a face that was already breaking hearts across the school.

Tony’s gaze drifted, away from Barnes’ denim clad thighs and instead to the sweater-clad form besides him. Peter was sprawled in his chair, sipping absently at a Cola and paying delighted attention to whatever conversation was happening. He looked...

Soft. Soft in a way that Tony knew was huggable, touchable. His sweater was a deep blue to match the unlaced Doc Martins on his feet and his hair was askew like he’d been running his hands through it all morning.

“Stark!”

Fuck.

“What can I do for you?” he ground his teeth, voice faux sweet as he turned to eye Ms. Hill, who arched a brow at him and leaned down, plucking his coffee cup from his grasp.

“Please, correct me if I’m wrong, but last time I checked, the campus lunch hall didn’t stock Starbucks,” she announced, voice steely as she stared him down. Tony only offered her a short smile and an easy shrug.

“Correct.”

“Well then. I hope you’re sufficiently fuelled for a long day - you have detention. Immediately after last period.”

Tony simply cast her a serene, unbothered smile, taking his cup back before she could throw it in the trash. Tony’s grades more than made up for any mishaps he might incur, but Howard would still be displeased with him. Even more so at the triviality of why he was facing detention.

Neither of his friends deigned to say anything about the instance, though Clint had given a dramatic wince at his punishment and had tossed a scowl at Hill’s retreating back - ever the supportive friend.

Natasha disappeared shortly before the end of lunch, though Tony had long since learned not to question her. He’d once found her lounging behind the bleachers, making a scalpel out of a piece of plastic card, some gum and a pencil.

Since then he hadn’t dared to think too hard about what she might be doing whenever she wasn’t sitting in view and judging everyone.

She was back by the time last period rolled around, sitting primly in her seat with her book open, interest lost in a magazine she had apparently pulled out of nowhere. A glance at the cover showed it was a rifle magazine and Tony was not, at all, surprised.

Last period was history, and their tutor was a decidedly crabby old man who was never pleased with the efforts of his students. He was a fair grader - Never shorting them of their achievements, but he sung little praise and always had something to say about improvements.

They'd been given homework that no amount of groaning would rescind, and Tony pulled his from his bag with a sigh, rooting in his bag for a pen. In this class, he sat at the back, and it gave him a full vantage of where Peter was practically sitting in the lap of the pretty girl that had transferred here not too long ago. He had a vague notion of her name, but he knew for a fact that Peter always called her 'MJ'.

"Students! I should hope your weekend was spent wisely. Anyone not in possession of their homework will receive a detention," Mr. Ardell announced, hands clapping together. Tony breathed through his nose at the sound, pressing at his temple.

"Stark. This is not a nightclub nor a fashion show. Take the glasses off, and keep them off," he added in a snipe, and Tony forced a brittle smile, steadfastly ignoring the way that soft, honeyed eyes turned to him as he slid his glasses off And set them on his desk.

Even the typical 'bad type' student or the dumbest of them all listened to Mr. Ardell. The man had a booming voice and no hesitation about dealing punishments.

At a glance, Tony could see that every student had their homework on their desk. Every student except Peter, who was rummaging around in his bag with a growing sense of urgency. Tony perked.

That was unusual. Peter often had his homework out before the teachers even got a chance to ask. Tony’s gaze remained fixed on the boy, who was now frantic as he dug around, mindlessly passing Mr. Ardell his homework as the man roamed the room, collecting sheets, right up until he stood opposite Peter, who floundered.

“I... I did it! I packed it this morning. It was right in my folder and now it’s gone!” Peter breathed, panic blossoming in his eyes. Mr. Ardell was quite clearly having none of it as Peter rambled and rifled through his bag, until Mr. Ardell finally held up a hand. Despite himself, Tony sucked in a breath, wincing in sympathy.

“Detention, Mr. Parker. And such a shame. You’re one of the few that don’t frequently make me wish I had the money to retire sooner,” Mr. Ardell sighed, and Peter crumpled.

It made Tony’s heart clench in his chest, sympathy surging through his veins. He had no doubt Peter had done the homework - But perhaps he’d simply forgotten to pack it.

He was sitting there, chin on his palm as he watched MJ comfort Peter, when he sat bolt upright.

Detention.

Tony had detention.

That meant -

“Aw, fuck.”

“Mr. Stark!”

As Tony packed his bag at the end of class, Clint came sidling over, nudging him with a meek smile. “Hey, man. It’s not that bad. Just put some earbuds in. I bet he hates your guts too much to talks to you anyway!” he added cheerfully as they strode from the room, and Tony cast him a flat look.

“Gee, thanks.”

“No problem! Hey, I’ll see you tomorrow. I gotta dash if I wanna make it home to walk Lucky before food!”

And then, there was just Tony and the rapidly emptying hallway. He heaved a sigh, ground his teeth, and strode towards the detention room. It was only half an hour.

That was nothing. He could make it. The wild notion of fleeing and dealing with a double detention tomorrow crossed his mind, but Tony could only stand being in school for as long as he had to, and with a duck of his head he strode down the hallway at a faster pace. The sooner he got there, the sooner it was over with.

He reached the door and was about to push it open when the sheet of paper caught his eye.

Detention students - Room 3A12.

Tony frowned, but turned on his heel, making his way towards the other room. Perhaps that one was being cleaned or something. He was putting his earbuds in when he pushed into 3A12, Guns’n’Roses already filling his ears when a yelp of; “don’t let the door shut!” filtered through, followed by the soft slam of the door behind him.

He blinked across at Peter, who had stopped mid-stride, arm outstretched, looking pained. “Fuck! It locks from the outside. Now neither of us can get out,” Peter whined, and Tony scoffed.

“None of the doors in this place lock only from the outside.” to prove his point he turned, grabbed the handle, and slammed shoulder-first into it when it did not move as he did. Tony frowned, lips thinning as he jiggled the knob, tried again.

It wouldn’t open.

“Who the fuck installs a door that doesn’t open from one side!” Tony exploded, panic beginning to seep like cold water through his veins as the reality of the situation hit him. He was stuck alone in a room with Peter. Opposite him, Peter groaned and sank back down onto the -

“Son of a bitch.” They weren’t even a proper classroom. There were barely ten tables in here, a tiny whiteboard and a miniscule teacher’s desk. They couldn’t have been put in a smaller room if they tried. But speaking of the teacher's desk…

“Where’s the teacher?” he asked, nose crinkling. Opposite, Peter heaved a sigh, fidgeting on the edge of his seat and tugging at the ends of his sleeves.

“I don’t know. I’ve been in here for ten minutes, nobody has come in,” Peter sounded quiet, miserable, and Tony’s heart squeezed uncomfortably within his chest as he sunk down into a chair, frowning.

Maybe the teacher was just held up with a student. They’d arrive soon enough, and Tony could be out of here and far away from that plush mouth, those dark eyes.

The minutes ticked by, with nothing but the sound of the clock on the wall. Tony tried texting Natasha and Clint, but they were both home already. If Peter had text anyone, he’d had similar luck, because ten more minutes passed and still not a soul even passed the door.

Tony blew out a breath and tossed his phone down, running a hand through his hair and leaning back in his chair. From the corner of his eye, he could see Peter watching.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re staring.”

“There’s not a lot in this room to look at.”

Tony gave a soft sound, eyes closing behind his shades as he settled. This wasn’t so bad. He could do this. They just had to wait and hope that a caretaker came around, or that someone called the reception to report that they had not come home. More minutes ticked by.

“You’re still staring.”

“I can’t help it. I haven’t...I haven’t seen you in a while,”

Tony sucked in a breath, eyes closing and fingers beginning a tempo against the table. No. He couldn’t do this. If he did this; he’d crumble. He’d get to his knees and beg for all he’d lost, and he couldn’t do that. Not as a Stark, and not to Peter. Couldn’t lead Peter to a reckless end.

“We’re in all the same classes,” he noted roughly, and Peter made a soft, frustrated sound besides him. Tony winced but said nothing more, steeling himself. Peter deserved better than him - especially now, when it would look like Tony only cared because he’d changed. Except... Peter hadn’t changed all that much. He’d just filled out a little, gained some confidence.

“You’ve been avoiding me and ignoring me.”

“So have you,” he replied evenly, relenting to the fact that Peter wasn’t going to drop the issue. He let his head loll to the side, almost startled when he found Peter leaning forwards, arms around himself, staring at Tony with shining eyes.

“I haven’t wanted to. You pushed me away, disappeared, came back and won’t even look at me”.

Tony ground his teeth, chewing his tongue. “It’s not like I wanted to either, Peter, but I couldn’t…” Couldn’t be around you, knowing that, and not taking advantage of it. Couldn’t see you hurt. Couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t.

“What, you were so disgusted with me you couldn’t even bear to be around me?” Peter sounded defensive now, voice hardening slightly, and part of Tony was thankful. Yes. He could do barbed. He could fight. He could take Peter hating him. At least he wasn’t hurting him further, that way.

“I’m not disgusted at you,” he replied quietly, turning his gaze away. He couldn't bring himself to say anything else, throat tight and hands gripping his desk to stop them from shaking. He thought about ringing Clint, bribing him to come open the door, but Peter spoke again.

"I get it if you don't like me that way but... It's not fair. Treating me this way. Being so... Awful about it.”

"I'm not being awful. I'm…"

"Running away from your feelings? Yeah. That's kind of your MO.”

And Peter said it so bitterly that Tony flinched, teeth clipping the edge of his tongue as he sucked in a breath. Low blow. An emotionally neglectful childhood was bound to leave it's scars.

Peter seemed to regret his words immediately, because he actually stood, taking a few steps to reach for Tony. Despite himself Tony leaned away from the reaching arm, mindless of how much he longed for the contact.

"I didn't mean…"

"Words said in anger are still words with intent.”

"Tony…"

"I can't do this. I can't pretend to hate you and I can't be around you without wanting what I can't have!" he didn't explode, but it was said with some degree of passion, standing to round on Peter, who sank into a chair, looking up at him sorrowfully.

"You can have me!”

If only.

"You said it yourself. I run from my feelings. I can't have you because I'll fuck it up, and I’d rather lose you without hurting you and without attaching myself. I'm a fucki-"

The rest of Tony's emotional rant was cut off sharply as Peter reached up, grasping him by the front of his shirt and hauling him down, so he had to brace himself with one hand on Peter's chair back and the other on the table as Peter's plush mouth met his own, clumsy and a little too forceful.

A man with a stronger will would have pulled back. Would have stuck to his cause and not been selfish.

Tony was not that man.

He let his lips part, opportunistic of the way Peter gasped against him, licking into his mouth and moving his hands to cradle Peter's jaw, relishing in what he knew would be the only time he could indulge his festering love.

There was a click, and then -

"I told you it would work.”

They jerked apart, mouths red and eyes wild, Tony twisting to find none other than a prim looking Natasha and a dubious looking Steve taking up the doorway.

"What." Tony managed, and Natasha rolled her eyes.

"Obviously this was a set up. A good one, too. It took forever to sneak around and replace the door lock. You two were disgusting and all... Pining. It had to be stopped," she announced, like a mad plot was nothing unordinary.

But turning, looking at the flushed grin on Peter's mouth and the sparkle in his eyes... Well. It was worth getting another detention for missing the first, and it was worth the hours of agonising emotional talk with Peter, tears and sloppy kissing and the jeers from their friends when they came into school on the Wednesday, hand in hand.

"How come I wasn't in on the whole plot?" Clint whined at their table during lunch, casting a mulish glance around them. Natasha gave a sigh and pet at him with faux pity.

"Because you're an idiot with a big mouth," she informed him, twirling a lock of hair around a finger. Overnight she'd gone from fiery copper to a blue-black. It suited her well. Some black lipstick, and she'd be every boy's wanna-be-goth-girlfriend.

"Only we get to insult the idiot and his big mouth," came from above them, and none other than one Bucky Barnes ducked down, pressing a kiss to Clint's cheek, before moving on to Steve.

"That's... New," Tony managed, glancing across at Peter, who looked equally perplexed. Clint had the decency to look sheepish.

"At least I didn't need to get locked in a room to sort my shit out," he grumbled, and Peter giggled, before kissing the affronted look off Tony's face.

Tony wasn't good at feelings. And he'd never been in love before. But Peter was worth it. Peter was worth trying, learning for.

#StarkerXOXO-2020 #Fanfic #starker #starker fanfiction #starker fanfic #starker fic #starker valentine #starker valentines #starker theme #starker nco #starker ncc #starker au #ironspider #ironspider fanfiction #ironspider fanfic #ironspider fic #ironspider au #ironspider valentine #sie fics

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cagestark · 5 years

Note

Can i request something i dont see enough of, which is AlphaPeter/OmegaTony ? :D Lots of fluffy happy stuff, i love angst too a slong as theres a happy ending - { holographic-starker }

this was a tough one to write, but I enjoyed myself and feel like I learned a lot about myself as a writer, even. Thanks for the request, let me know if you’re displeased

Read here on AO3.

Warnings: ABO, consent issues because Tony is in heat. Alpha!Peter, Omega!Tony. Peter is 18+ though. Explicit.

The thing is, the kid is too polite.

Peter is freshly eighteen when he moves into the tower and begins interning for Tony, spending every last moment Avenging and patrolling and attending online classes. Being thirty years older than the kid, a part of him assumes that he should take on the role of a cantankerous old man complaining about the boorish youth. His knees have certainly taken it upon themselves to method act, protesting hours spent cross-legged on the floor. His hair has obviously been visiting wardrobe and makeup without his notice, because there are more gray hairs there than he remembers there being last year, last season, last month.

All this to say that Tony is getting older, and it is no secret that the younger generations are fucking irritating. Disrespectful, he’d say, channeling Howard or Jarvis through that internal Ouija board that keeps coming back no matter how many times he throws it out. And alright, it’s part of their rite of passage. Find him a generation who doesn’t annoy their elders and he’d eat Cap’s shield.

The one exception: Peter.

The kid has sweetness in his DNA. Authenticity clings to his red blood cells which explains why every bone in his body is genuine and kind. The respect he shows the Avengers is nearly comical—would be, if it didn’t drive Tony up the walls for other reasons. He is firm and gentle, thoughtful and conscientious. There are no valid complaints to be had about him.

The kid, if anything, is too polite.

Which means that he can’t possibly be doing this on purpose.

Peter presenting as an alpha shocked Tony to the core, and he wasn’t alone. “I’ve had him pegged as an omega since he was in diapers, Tony,” May had whispered to him while they watched Peter having his blood drawn by Bruce inside the Hulk-proof enclosure beneath the ground at Stark Tower. Judging by how Peter’s face flushes red, he can hear through the glass.

“A lot people had me pegged as an alpha,” Tony responds, maybe a little too coldly. But maybe it hits a little too close to home—children having their designations determined for them at such a young age. How much of Peter’s upbringing had influenced his disposition? Had he been groomed to be an omega even despite his biology? The thought makes Tony sick. He knows how that feels. He knows. “This doesn’t change anything about him. He’s still Peter.”

But it did change things.

Because now they are playing this game together, and either Peter is a better bluffer than Tony ever anticipated, or the kid genuinely doesn’t know what he’s doing to the older man.

It starts the first day Peter returns to his work in the lab after his rut. They have been putting in hours together working on a new AI, one Peter has affectionately dubbed Saturday, no matter how many times Tony tells him that the key to a good name is all in the acronym). Since it is Peter’s first effort to make an artificial intelligence, Tony is letting him lead. He is bent over the lab table examining a microchip the size of his thumbnail, miniature soldering iron clutched between in his fingers when the door to the lab opens.

He whirls around on the stool, beaming. Peter is dressed in his old Midtown High sweatshirt, the collar of his dress shirt blooming around his neck. His hair is dark from a shower, wet curls clinging to his forehead. He looks—good. Healthy. Strong. Fertile.

They smell each other for the first time.

It’s not Tony’s right to tell anyone to wear scent blockers, though he ingests his own via pill form twice a day, showers with them, has them mixed into the sterilization stations at lab’s exits so he can clean his hands and neutralize any happy-angsty scents that were brought about during the day’s tinkering. Because it’s a polite thing to do. Alphas and omegas are very sensitive to smells. Polite alphas will wear blockers to avoid overwhelming omegas or antagonizing other alphas in public—and when it comes to omegas, scent blockers are like protection, like the nano-tech suit he goes nowhere without. If no one can smell Tony, they can’t look at him like a piece of meat, lust over him, come on to him when all he’s trying to do is walk down the fucking street.

The kid is not wearing blockers. Before he presented, Peter had the blandly neutral scent of a beta, and he would have been incapable of scenting Tony. Peter smells of something fond. It takes Tony only a moment to place it: the mahogany of the bookshelves in his childhood home, the lemon-basil scent that would cling to Jarvis after days spent in the kitchen.

He sees Peter’s nostrils flair, surely trying to take in a scent that for all intents and purposes, he shouldn’t be able to smell. But by the way his eyes go hooded, throat bobbing, he can. The boy’s mouth opens, literally mouths the word wow. Tony feels remarkably like a rabbit caught in a dog’s gaze.

Tony burns himself. “Fucking—fuck!” He drops the soldering iron and it barely misses the microchip.

“Mr. Stark, are you okay?”

Peter comes over to examine the burn, a dark, flushed pink, the skin already raw and shiny. The smell comes with him, each of the boy’s emotions playing out like a symphony for his nose: concern, comfort, anxiety. And yeah, arousal.

Tony pulls away before their skin can touch, jamming his hands into the gloves that he should have been wearing from the start. “Fine,” he says. “Don’t worry about it.”

Peter becomes—distracting. At best. Arousing at worst. Days spent in the lab under Tony’s tutelage are filled with emotions for the young, enthusiastic boy: joy when he solves a problem, frustration when he can’t, the soft melancholic scent of rotting wood on days when his smile is muted and his eyes seem far away. Tony is too receptive to him. More than once, he’s found himself opening his mouth, desperate to ask for the love of God, Pete, will you take a shower? Will you wear something, anything, to come between your scent and my nose? But the kid doesn’t deserve that, and Tony isn’t sure he could stand the embarrassed, insecure scent he’d give off after being confronted. The need to comfort might be too strong to overpower.

Tony does his very best to maintain a professional relationship, but Peter seems determined to cross every boundary.

Next comes the scenting. To be fair: maybe he doesn’t know how incredibly personal it is. Tony knows that it’s common in schools to separate kids by designation and teach them only the information absolutely pertinent to them. Maybe growing up small and thin and soft hearted, pegged O’ from birth, they didn’t teach him what it means when an alpha scents someone who they aren’t related to.

Tony himself doesn’t know what it means when Peter does it. Maybe Peter doesn’t even know, maybe it’s just an itch that needs scratched, and he knows that scenting Tony can scratch it. Some things are just that innocent. But on his dark days when Tony is hunched over at the lab table, back and eyes aching from working through the night, all it takes is Peter brushing by. His steps will stutter just beyond Tony’s shoulders. He inhales—now Tony is trained like one of Pavlov’s dogs, and the relief, the arousal, it often comes right then, even on just the inhale—and then Peter’s forehead will loll forward, soft hair and skin nuzzling at the scent gland on Tony’s neck until their scents are mixed. Until Tony’s body is soft and pliant (except for his cock, which is hard and throbbing).

Then Peter moves on like nothing happened.

What the fuck, Tony sometimes mouths, keeping his eyes on the tablet in front of him, terrified to turn and acknowledge what the boy just did.

It might not be so bad if they weren’t so fucking compatible. Yeah, he can admit it. Tony had spent weeks agonizing about that after the kid first brought his scent down into the lab, he’s come to terms, thanks. It’s a biological fact, one he remembers any time he takes in a whiff of mahogany and lemon-basil. God, he didn’t think a smell could be so comforting and arousing all at once. It makes him ache, someplace in his chest where the arc reactor used to sit, and somewhere lower, deep in his pelvis where he should have grown children, if he’d been a decent omega. If he hadn’t spent so long trying to pretend to be an alpha, frying his biology, cooking his ovaries right to medium-well-done, AKA infertility.

What use would Peter have for him? Tony is old, past safe childbearing years even if he wasn’t barren. Alphas want legacies, they want homemakers, they want everything Howard worked so hard to empty Tony of. Far too often he finds himself maudlin and thinking such thoughts before the futility of them strikes him. His attractiveness is a non-issue; he is determined that he and Peter will never come together that way.

As it is, the scent blockers Tony takes, while being ultra-effective, aren’t as effective for a pair—not a pair. No, they’re not a pair. Just two friendly friends, mentor and mentee, platonic hi there Mr. Stark how are you doing goodness, no knots involved. God. He should not be thinking about the kid’s knot—anyway, the blockers aren’t as effective for people who are as compatible as Peter and Tony are. They are his last defense, and he often burns through them before the afternoon hits, body working overtime to make his scent potent again so that he might have a chance to attract the virile alpha across the room. It’s embarrassing, smelling so badly of pining omega that he can smell himself in the enclosed space of the elevator.

Like he is right now.

Although, it isn’t the elevator. It’s the bathroom.

Tony grabs the hand towels off of the rack and stuffs them at the bottom of the door where the crack is, desperate to keep his own smell in and Peter’s smell out. Then he crawls into the bathtub there and draws the curtain shut. As if that’s going to help.

He looks to the ceiling, wondering why a deity he doesn’t even believe in seems to be punishing him like this. Inside his pants, his cock is aching, and he can’t help but to press the heel of his hand against it, exhaling in the brief relief it gives. Lifting his wrist to his nose he breaths deep and can’t stop the groan that passes his lips. He smells like Peter, their scents combining, lemon and sugar to make lemonade, so sweet his mouth waters and his teeth ache.

When Peter arrived in the lab just moments before, he’d brought with him the scent of fury: scorched earth, and something sadder. His eyes were red from tears, lips pressed thin together. Tony watched him, paralyzed, as he tried three different times to enter his access code to the lab before FRIDAY showed mercy and let him in. Then as soon as there was nothing between them, it was like two oppositely charged magnets coming together.

They collided. Tony’s arms wrapped around him and Peter’s nose buried in that spot between his neck and shoulder, inhaling and exhaling fire on Tony’s exposed skin. Peter babbles away, lips brushing his skin, something about an argument with Ned and MJ, both sides feeling neglected and wronged, long overdue issues just now bubbling to the surface, he’d imagine. He can barely focus on what the boy is saying. It feels like there’s an invisible hand on the back of his neck, tilting him into the perfect position for his alpha to scent and find comfort in him. Tony holds him until all the anger and hurt and helplessness have seeped out of him.

What the fuck, Tony mouths to the ceiling. One of these days, he’s going to ask FRIDAY to create a montage of his WTF moments so that he might literally have concrete footage of how weird his life is.

Then one of Peter’s hands drifts up like he is going to cup Tony’s shoulder, but instead he firmly presses his thumb into the gland there and it’s like Thor has sent a bolt of lightning down. Tony’s entire body jerks and melts, every bone in his body relaxing for his alpha except for the one in his pants, and speaking of, Peter whimpers and shifts and there is no mistaking an alpha’s cock. There just isn’t. It’s veritably huge and hard and how many years has it been since he’s had an alpha inside him, since he’s been knotted—

The scents around them change, thick with arousal. It takes him that long to realize that Peter’s heightened emotional sensitivity might have a biological cause.

He is going into a rut.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter slurs, hips shifting. “You smell sooo good.”

It takes herculean effort to separate their bodies. The sheer heat and pheromones that Peter is throwing off are tangible even when he’s resolutely breathing through his mouth. He must be a sight: eyes wild and terrified, cock stiff, sprinting bow-legged to the bathroom so that he could get just a moment—just a moment to calm himself down and use his brain.

It’s going…about as well as can be expected, Tony thinks, desperately fisting his cock in the bathtub. If he could just rub one out, maybe it will bleed some of the fire from his veins. There is a gentle knocking at the door and Peter’s muffled voice, but Tony can barely hear it. He’s so close, building up to an orgasm so quickly that it should be shameful, but at least there is no one here to see. Wrist pressed to his nose, he inhales Peter’s scent like a man coming up from water, desperate for air. His balls are drawn up tight, stomach twisted into knots—and still he doesn’t cum.

“Mr. Stark, are you alright? Are you hurt?” Peter’s voice is raised, worried. Tony realizes that he has been whimpering, surely loud enough for the genetically enhanced boy to hear.

The pain inside him rises up but never crests, just rests there, aching in his gut. Cramping. Curiously, he reaches down past the petite testicles, down—

He’s wet. Soaked. The touch of his finger nearly brings him to ecstasy. This is what he needs, something inside of him, filling that emptiness that is so acute it aches. One finger isn’t enough. His hole is already loose, taking two easily.

The door breaks down. I’m in heat, Tony thinks numbly listening to wood splinter and hinges break. Maybe there was a slow build up that he missed, but it burned away in an instant in the face of this alpha. That is why Peter went into rut. Because of me. He barely has time to shove his cock back into his pants. For a moment, after Peter wrenches back the shower curtain Tony feels like a woman out of the old bodice rippers his mother used to keep in her bedside drawer. The ones with helpless omegas ravished by alphas who were driven mad by their scents, alphas who couldn’t have stopped their urges even if they wanted to.

The look Peter gives him is certainly aroused enough. He is hard in his jeans, a bulge that looks impossibly huge compared to Tony’s own. Peter’s chest rises and falls so rapidly that the older man is worried for his health. Those dark eyes scan Tony from head to toe and then the boy collapses, knees striking the tiled floor, groaning. He crawls to the bathtub and rests his feverish cheeks against the lip of the tub, mouth open and panting.

“Mr. Stark.” The voice is absolutely wrecked.

It is pure restraint as a result of his years of experience that keeps him from rolling onto his hands and knees to present for this boy, this wet-behind-the-ears alpha who has barely started his second rut and probably never popped a knot in his life.

“Mr. Stark I don’t feel so good,” groans Peter.

Even burning up, cramping, shaking, Tony reaches out to pet at Peter’s head. He hopes to offer comfort, but the boy snatches his hand out of the air in a bruising grip. Then he draws it to his mouth and presses in the fingers that were just inside Tony’s sopping hole. The boy’s tongue slips between the fingers, searching every crevice for more slick, groaning even as he licks the palm tasting only heart-love-life lines. “Mr. Stark,” Peter pants, trying again for words. “Can I have you? Please. Let me have you.”

“Yes,” Tony gasps.

They come together clumsily. It takes a moment for them to realize that Tony is trying to crawl out of the tub while Peter is trying to crawl in. They end up outside of it on the tiled floor, Tony spread out underneath the young alpha. Peter sheds his shirt and there should be violins, there should be mood lighting and a spotlight because the kid is fucking built. He almost has as many abs as fingers, so lithe and strong. He reminds Tony of spider silk, thin and so strong.

“Undress,” Peter says lowly, helping Tony to sit up so that he might pull off his shirt. Yeah, Tony isn’t 18 years old with genetically enhanced muscles but he likes to think he does okay. Peter’s eyes roll, palms flat on Tony’s pecs to drag down and down, over the scarring where the arc reactor used to be, scraping at the chest hairs. It melts the omega’s brain, primal parts of him purring. His body is satisfying to his mate, even if he is older and grayer and harder than any omega has a right to be. “God, you’re so—Jesus you’re hot Mr. Stark.”

“Knot me,” Tony groans. His hips are thrusting up into the hard cradle of Peter’s pelvis. His cock is throbbing, leaking, but it is nothing compared to the emptiness inside of him. The room is small and filled with so many potent scents that he can barely keep his eyes open. All of his senses are consumed by Peter, by what he’s doing with Peter. “Come on, kid. It hurts.”

Peter goes feral at the thought. He tears at their clothes, ribbons of jean and cotton, tennis shoes nudged off of feet. When he is naked as the day he was born, the fever in Tony seems to reach its boiling point. The kid is sculpted; it’s indecent. If there was any doubt he was meant to be an alpha, his cock disputes it. Tony, who has had plenty of fulfilling sexual experiences with people of all genders and designations, is still intimidated. Aroused. Anxious. He knows that his biology has prepared him for this. His body is made to take cocks of that size, but what if it doesn’t? What if he displeases this alpha, displeases Peter?

A hand comes to rest on his shoulder, thumb pressing into that tender part of his neck that has his legs jolting. “Easy,” Peter says, and Tony’s entire body relaxes. That voice drains all the fear and anxiety out of him, Novocain for the soul. Why was he worrying? His head is pleasantly fuzzy like with the buzz of a few strong drinks. Underneath it all is the ache in his cock, the emptiness inside him, but he does not beg. Does not squirm. Because unbearably tender, Peter assures: “I’ll take care of you.”

The tiles under his palms and knees are cold on his feverish skin when he turns over. He lets his back bow to appease the ache inside him until he is presenting fully, cheek pressed against the floor. The sounds Peter makes behind him are wrecked as he folds himself over the omega beneath him, mouth hotly over the skin at the nape of his neck. It makes all the hairs on his body stand on edge—god the only thing better than mating with alpha is bonding with this alpha, bite, bite, please—

“Can’t,” Peter groans. “Can’t bite you. You don’t mean that.”

Tony bucks the boy off until Peter is sitting back on his haunches, cock obscene between his legs, looking more like a confused pup than an assertive alpha. Tony bares his teeth even in the face of his instincts which recoil just at the idea. “I thought you knew what I needed,” he goads.

Peter’s eyes harden. Maybe this polite young man defers to him on most things, but not this thing. He fists a hand in Tony’s hair and wrenches him up until their naked bodies are plastered together from knee to neck. Teeth brush his neck again and it’s like touching a live wire. If he’d jerked any harder, he might have broken skin. As it is, Peter just holds him there, bite firm and bordering on painful until all the fight goes out of him. The boy guides him back down, body lax like all the bones are gone. One hand drifts up and back to run over where the alpha’s teeth were, desperate to feel the indentations.

“Didn’t break skin,” Peter promises, like Tony doesn’t already know. No broken skin, but close. Close enough to have him pliant and purring, the fever in his skin giving him the briefest respite. Then Peter’s fingers dance downward to where the omega is wet and hot and so empty it hurts. Just the brush of fingertips, the promise of pleasure, has Tony groaning into the tiled floor.

Gently, Peter presses in. Attuned to the alpha’s senses, he hears the younger man’s breath catch, turn high and breathy. A second finger joins the first and yes, that’s better, so much better than the gaping emptiness. By the third finger, Tony feels like he could cum from this alone, even if Peter has done nothing but skim his fingers over that spot inside him that’s so good it aches.

Peter hushes him, a hand planted over that fading mark on the back of Tony’s neck. His other hand grips his cock, notching the head where Tony needs it most. The omega takes the first half before he feels full, sated even, but then there is more. Peter makes the rawest noises, and Tony laments not facing him, not being able to see his expression. He can imagine it: the eyes squeezed shut, mouth open, head back. But then there is more cock inside him than he thought was possible, and it burns everything else from his mind. The only thing that exists is that cock, anchoring him to this reality. He can feel the flared base of the alpha’s cock already puffing, desperate to knot.

Content that his cock isn’t going to split Tony in half—though it certainly feels like it from the other side of things—Peter sets a brutal pace. The finesse his fingers might have lacked is overshadowed by his cock which probably couldn’t miss Tony’s prostate if it tried. All he can do is take it, fingers scrabbling to find purchase on the slick floor, body singing, prepared to burn out at any moment.

“To-ny,” whines Peter, drawing the word out obscenely. The next word is softer, said through teeth: “Omega.”

“Alpha,” Tony gasps. “Harder—more. Come on. Need it, need your knot—”

“Then take it,” Peter cries. “Take it! God, you feel so good, you’re perfect, perfect—”

Tony cums, cock spurting onto the tiled floor. Every muscles clenches, cramping, spasming as his orgasm goes on and on, spurred on by Peter’s cock. Tony can’t even take it enough breath to scream, just gapes, cheek pressed to the cool floor. He can feel Peter’s own end coming, the knot growing, the sounds he makes becoming louder and less inhibited.

When Peter finally cums, he howls, crying out the way a man might if he’d just been stabbed only he’s the one stabbing Tony, stabbing him with his cock, forcing the knot past the rim and Tony doesn’t know if he can take it, there is brief pain cresting and then—it’s like it all goes white. His first orgasm was nothing compared to this. This would be painful, if it weren’t so good, if it weren’t exactly what he needed. It’s so much deeper than when he cums from his cock; in a way that feels so external. But this is inside him, deep in his womb, his entire body and being rejoicing at the alpha inside him loading him with sperm. Every spasm of his body is matched a heartbeat later by the cock inside him.

The come-down is slow. Having lost his strength ages ago, Tony is prostrate on the floor, knees and back aching. Above him is a firm, warm weight. The breaths are too ragged for Peter to be sleeping. Still, there is no speaking. Not until the knot inside him deflates and Peter draws back, cum and slick slipping out from inside of Tony.

When he manages to get up on his hands an knees, reaching out to use the sink to brace himself to stand (trying hard not to slip in all the bodily fluids), he sees that Peter is sitting back on his haunches, face buried in his hands, shaking with tears.

Tony nearly flinches at the sight. His heart pounds—alpha, hurting.

“Peter? Pete? God, what is it? Are you—”

“I’m so sorry,” Peter wails.

“Wh—what the hell are you sorry for?”

Peter can’t even answer, he’s so distraught. Tony isn’t good at this. It’s safe to say that most emotional situations have him withdrawing, and hastily. But this is Peter: the young man he’s had a soft spot for even years before the attraction arrived. So instead he lowers himself back down and sits next to the boy, drawing him in. Peter buries his face in Tony’s neck, scenting and scenting. It isn’t hard to exude comfort and warmth, not when he has the young alpha in his arms. Peter’s tears slow and then stop.

Heart in his throat, Tony asks: “What that—not good for you, kid?”

When Peter pulls away, his face is twisted with confusion. “What are you talking about? That—it was—God, Mr. Stark. I’m going to be thinking about that for the rest of my life, probably.”

The omega inside him purrs. “Thanks for the ego boost.”

Peter sighs, wiping at his face. “That’s just so not how I wanted it to happen. When you’re, when you’re in heat you can’t technically consent. You ran from me and I literally—oh shoot, Mr. Stark, I broke down your door.”

“About that—it’s coming out of your paycheck.”

“I’m not being paid, I’m an intern—"

“You—what? You’re not being paid? That doesn’t sound—”

“Can we, like, talk about my pay later?”

Tony’s mouth clicks shut. He nods.

“I just,” Peter sighs, relaxed with his head in the crook of Tony’s neck. They’re both naked, sweat cooling rapidly, but their bodies pressed together are more than enough to keep them warm. “All that effort I put in trying to attract you, trying to treat you right, like an alpha is supposed to treat an omega—then I went and broke your door.”

“Jesus,” Tony mutters. “I should have known you’re too smart not to know what you’ve been doing. Scenting me like I’m going out of style.”

“You’ll never go out of style Mr. Stark,” Peter assures. “I thought I was being subtle. It never seemed to work. Then I got worried that maybe you just weren’t interested. But I can smell you.”

“I’m interested,” Tony says into the younger man’s hair. “Trust me. Interested is putting it lightly. Not to mention, I’m a pretty creative guy. I could have probably stopped you if I wasn’t interested.”

“Even if you could, it’s not right for me to, to just—consent is important!”

“You’re goddamn right it is,” Tony says. He draws Peter’s chin up so they can meet eyes, and even bloodshot and wet, Peter’s are still warm and sincere and painfully adorable. “So, while I’m of sane mind and in between waves, let’s just go ahead and say I’m giving you consent. Enthusiastically. Deal?”

It’s Peter’s turn to melt and then purr, a low growling in his chest, looking like the spider who caught the fly, only more charming and with far less legs thank god. He mouths at Tony’s neck, kissing the gland there to make him shiver, and when he speaks Tony can feel the brush of his lips moving against his skin: “Deal.”

#starker #abo #Omega!Tony #Alpha!Peter

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