#peterparkerbingo2021

[iamnotparticularlyproud]

PPB Square: Free Space | @peterparkerbingo​ super inspired by guilty pleasure by @css1992​

As a broke college student with an unpaid internship, Peter starts a Just4Fans page to help pay for his tuition. After a year of hiding his side hustle from everyone around him and cultivating a sizable audience, Peter’s making more money than he ever expected - especially after a follower who goes by YKWIA starts tipping him a shit-ton of money.

- bingo card below -

#starker #tony stark x peter parker #peterparkerbingo2021 #my writing #if u havent read guilty pleasure first of all... #what r u doing with ur life? #second of all: go read it??? like now???? #its so so good u'll thank me later #the enpsychlopedia joke is from a tumblr post and i'd link the post but op deleted it lol #also like. is this uhh anything #ive been looking at it too long i cant tell

[snowstark]

counting to 100. 🍒

For @tonystarkbingo | Fill: Peter Parker/Spider-Man For @peterparkerbingo | Fill: Villain Redemption The one where the Superior Iron Man finds himself having a soft spot for Little!Peter who regresses after a stressful day as Spider-Man. READ ON AO3

The first time Peter saw him, it was when he was out on patrol.

He remembered hiding behind the line of hedges on the penthouse rooftop, stilling his breath like he was terrified that he could hear him. He remembered letting out a little gasp when the— the thing—armour?—wrapped around his body, enveloping him like a snake slithering up his torso, and remembered the way his blue gaze had snapped to his hiding spot. He’d known he’d given himself away that night.

But the Superior hadn’t done anything; his gaze lingered on Peter for a few moments before he disappeared, leaving behind a trail of dust as he shot off.

The second time Peter saw him, it was when he was sitting on the curbside of the empty playground, humming under his breath as he traced the alphabet into the sand. He’d had a rough day, and he could feel the familiar haze of warmth and safety and softness approaching him when he was interrupted by a set of sharp, clean black shoes at the corner of his vision. He jumped to his feet and stared with wide eyes. It was 4 in the morning; no one ever came to this area by now.

But this was the Superior, and he played by his own rules.

Peter’s chest tightened with fear and he stammered, “I— ‘m not—”

“You’re young,” the Superior noted, and Peter fell silent, wringing his mask in his hands.

Then, he looked down and gasped. His mask! He was— he wasn’t supposed to let anyone see— he tried to yank it back onto his face but a silver tendril shot out and wrapped around his wrist, making him choke on another gasp. “Please,” Peter whimpered.

“So fearful, little one. What scares you this way?”

And that— that was just a ridiculous question. The Superior was scaring Peter, and there was no way he didn’t know that. Peter knew who the Superior was, knew what he could do, but he was little right now, and fear only made him feel smaller by the second.

“I don’t—” A pitiful noise escaped Peter’s throat again, and the tendril retreated to hover over the letters scrawled into the sand. Peter followed the movement with his gaze. He’d stopped at ‘P.’

Then, the Superior wrote, slowly: ‘Q.’

Peter’s lips parted in surprise.

“What comes next, little one?”

Peter’s gaze jumped back to his face, and the armour melted away like a melting snowman. The Superior raised his eyebrows, and Peter bit his lip, then said softly, “R.”

The Superior’s lips quirked into a small smile. “That’s correct. Smart thing, aren’t you?”

Peter felt his cheeks tinting with warmth, and he ducked his head. The warm, fuzzy feeling was approaching his vision again, strong this time, even though deep down, somewhere in his brain, he knew he should be making an excuse, should be trying to put some distance between them, and get home safely.

But thoughts were hard. It was like trying to swim in mud. Fuzzy mud. And Peter wasn’t a caterpillar.

So, he looked down at the sand, bent down, and wrote ‘R.’ Then, he looked up at the Superior, who nodded, and he wrote ‘S,’ then ‘T’ and ‘U.’ He continued until he reached ‘Z,’ where he ended it off by drawing a little heart.

“‘m done,” he said softly, looking up at the Superior.

The man had his hands tucked into his pockets, and he gave Peter an impressed look, drawling, “Look how smart you are. Now can you count to 100?”

Peter blinked, and said uncertainly, “‘s— ‘s a big number.”

The Superior’s lips tugged into a smile, eyes crinkling the slightest bit. “It is, isn’t it?” Then, he turned his head, like he was concentrating on something far away, and Peter got on his tip-toes to try to see too. Except he didn’t see anything but the dark, black sky.

Then, the Superior said, “Practice your numbers, little one,” before the armour covered him in a shimmering case of silver. He was gone within moments, leaving Peter standing there with nothing but the English alphabet etched into the sand.

--- --- ---

For some inexplicable reason, Peter found himself back at the playground again the next day. Someone had erased the alphabet, but he wasn’t upset. He could start again.

The weather was getting colder now. He’d have to bring a jacket or something to wear over his suit when he was done patrolling. He always got a little more chilly when he was slipping into that safe space too, like he was being poked by icicles.

He was sitting on the swings when the Superior arrived, as if they’d planned a rendezvous.

He looked up, surprised. The first day had been a coincidence, this was not.

The Superior was silent as the armour melted away, and Peter fidgeted nervously before squeaking out, “Hi.”

The Superior lifted a poised eyebrow. “You’re out late again.”

“Um, I patrol.” Peter lifted his mask up, blinking uncertainly up at him. “‘s my break time right now. And ‘m hungry.”

“Patrol, huh?” A coil of metal reached out to flick Peter under the chin, making him jump. “Brave boy, keeping this place safe.”

“Sometimes,” Peter said softly. “Because sometimes I see bad things on TV at school ‘n I have to go fix it.”

“Oh, do you? Is that why you can’t count to 100? Been skipping class too much, little dove?”

Peter’s lips formed a small pout before he could help himself. “I can count,” he protested, affronted. “‘s just a little bit hard, sometimes.”

“Well, that’s okay. You can always ask for help, can’t you?” The Superior approached him, watched his feet skitter nervously on the sand of the playground.

Peter nodded timidly, then asked, “What’s a dove?”

The Superior’s lips twitched. “You’re a dove.”

Peter looked down at himself, confused, then back up at him. “‘m not! ‘m just— ‘m just Peter.”

The Superior didn’t say anything, just watched him fidget some more on the swing before he murmured, “I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?”

The Superior gave a slight nod.

“I like surprises,” Peter admitted softly.

“Well, then, you’re a lucky boy.” The Superior extended a silver tendril behind the bushes to draw something out.

Peter slid off the swing, eyes wide. Then, when the object was close enough for him to make out what it was, he gasped. “For me?”

The Superior nodded again, pressing the white teddy bear into his chest.

Peter grabbed it immediately, pressing his fingers into the fur. It was softer than anything else he’d ever touched; it didn’t feel like a cheap dollar-store purchase, but more like the type you would see on display at fancy clothing stores, sitting on the counter. He pressed his face to it, rubbing his cheek against it as he let out happy noises.

“What do you say?”

Peter’s gaze jerked up to meet the Superior’s expectant gaze. “Thank you,” he said breathlessly. “I love her.”

The Superior looked smug. “I knew you would.” Then, he turned around again, just like he’d done last night, staring at what only he could see, and Peter clutched the bear closer to him.

“Um— Mr. Superior?”

“Hm?” The Superior didn’t turn his head.

“Can I— she’s mine?”

“She is.” With that, the silver armour began to ghost over his body again, and Peter almost watched with an air of desperation as his face disappeared from view.

“Mr. Superior?” he blurted out in a rush before he could leave.

The Superior waited.

“Um— thank you. Can I have 100 bears?” The words left without Peter realizing it and he gasped, mortified that he’d even asked such a thing. He sounded spoiled.

But the Superior just chuckled. “Maybe if you learn how to count, sure.”

“And um— will you— will you be here tomorrow, maybe?” Peter bit his cheeks, flushing.

The Superior tilted his head. “Do you want me to be?”

Peter ducked his head, shuffling his feet.

When he didn’t respond, the Superior told him, “I’ll be here,” before he turned and left the playground.

Peter watched him disappear, then looked down at the bear in his hands for a long time before heading home.

--- --- ---

The Superior met him every night after that, and that was just incomprehensible to Peter. He knew the man had better things to do. Maybe he was just interested in him because he knew he was Spider-Man.

But even that didn’t make sense, because the Superior never brought it up, nor did he try to hurt him. In fact, Peter found that the urge to go on patrol and be New York’s brave superhero was lessening in favour of being small with the Superior.

The Superior was nice to him. Nicer than anything he could’ve ever imagined. He always brought Peter nice gifts, like a snack, or a warm hoodie for him to wear, and even some hot chocolate.

He always said nice things to Peter too, like you’re a smart boy and such sweet manners, little one, I’m impressed.

But then, one night, for the first time, the Superior was upset with him.

Peter was terrified, and had nearly started sobbing as he collapsed into the swing, the meat of his palms pressed to his eyes.

“What did you say to me?” the Superior demanded, and Peter had never heard his voice like that before.

“I don’t— ‘m sorry—” he whimpered, breath quickening when he felt a tendril of metal wrap around his wrists, pulling them down from his face. “Just— just don’t wanna keep takin’ gifts, M-Mr. Superior, don’t want anymore—”

“Oh, no, no,” the Superior interrupted, his ice-cold gaze burning into Peter, and that didn’t make sense either, because ice was supposed to be cold, not hot. “That’s not your choice to make. It’s always the same thing with you little ants. Never happy, never grateful, only little brats.”

“‘m sorry!” Peter cried again, sniffling.

The Superior was quiet for a few moments, and all Peter could hear was the sound of the man’s harsh breathing in the space between them before it gradually deepened into its regular soothing rhythm. Then— “You’re a sweet boy.”

The words made Peter’s eyes fly open in confusion, and he asked tearfully, “I am?”

The Superior nodded. His gaze was more gentle now. Not soft like it usually was, but gentle. “And that’s why I keep bringing you gifts, little one. It’s rude to deny them when I’m being generous. I’m not always a generous man.”

“Just to me,” Peter sniffled.

“That’s right,” the Superior crooned. “Smart boy, always learning so fast. C’mere, little one, let your Superior teach you how to repent properly.”

Peter stumbled forward, scrunching his face as he mumbled, “I dunno what that word means, Mr. Superior.”

“It means you show me how sorry you are.” The Superior cupped his chin with a hand, tipping his face up. “Because you were rude, weren’t you?”

“Uh-huh,” Peter hiccuped. “‘m sorry.”

The Superior’s thumb stroked over his cheek. Then, he said, “No more tears, little one. I can tell how sorry you are. Had a bit of a scare, didn’t you, poor thing?”

And that was confusing too, because the Superior was comforting him like he’d just woken up from a nightmare when he was the nightmare. But Peter just pressed into the touch and mumbled again, “‘m sorry.”

“I know, little one. But you’re going to be so much more well-behaved now, I know it. You’re a good boy.”

Peter nodded timidly.

For the rest of the night, the Superior watched Peter struggle to complete the hopscotch he’d drawn for him in the sand before leaving.

--- --- ---

Peter was considerably meeker the next day, and he knew that the Superior knew. But he couldn’t help it; he just wanted to be good.

Eventually, the Superior said, “Want to do something fun, little one?”

“Fun?” Peter blinked, then asked softly, “What kinda fun?”

“Mmm.” The Superior tilted his head, eyes glinting. They almost looked like the moon in the sky, glimmering with light. Like a night-light, almost. “Do you want to fly, little one?”

“Fly?” Peter gasped, eyes wide. “I— I can kind of fly.” He held his wrists out in demonstration of his web shooters.

The Superior chuckled, reaching out—with his hand, for once—to gently grip his wrist and tug it back down. “Oh, sweet thing, that’s not true flight. I can show you how to really fly. I promise it’ll be fun. A reward for being so good today.” He crouched down now, eye-level with Peter sitting on the ground. “Do you trust me?”

Peter stared at him, breath shallow in his chest. He wrapped a hand around the Superior’s finger, looked down at it, then back up at his face. “Yes,” he whispered.

The Superior reached out and picked him up, and Peter let him. “Good boy. Hang on tight.”

“Yes, Mr. Superior.” Peter did exactly as he was told, clinging to the Superior’s arms as they stood with his back to the Superior’s front. He could feel the familiar shift as the armour wreathed over the Superior’s body, but it didn’t cover him.

“Are you ready, little one?” The words were spoken in a low voice, quiet enough that Peter had to strain to listen to him.

“Uh-huh.” Peter tightened his grip, heart beginning to pound. He knew he’d be fine. The Superior hadn’t hurt him yet, and he wouldn’t now. And if he fell, well, he had his webs. He might be a little more clumsy with how small he was feeling, but he could do it.

Or maybe the Superior would be the one to catch him.

“Good.” With that, the Superior lifted off the ground, making Peter inhale sharply.

They went up, up, and up, until Peter was convinced that they could touch the sky. Then they were going forward, picking up speed, and Peter gradually found himself relaxing as fear left him, replaced by pure delight at the sight of the twinkling buildings illuminated against the night sky.

The wind was cold against his face as the Superior let them swoop down. Peter let out a thrilled yelp and let his arms fly out, the Superior’s grip on him the only thing keeping him held and safe.

There was a chuckle from above. “Little dove, flying through the air, hm? Daddy taught you how to fly?”

Peter grinned and twisted in his grip, and the Superior held tight. “‘m flying!” he shouted, feet kicking before he could help himself.

Another laugh, and the Superior didn’t say anything else.

Peter kept his arms extended as they shot through the sky, and the Superior even did a loop-de-loop when he begged him enough. Then, Peter pointed at a little apartment building that they zoomed by and squealed, “‘s where I live!”

“Is it?” the Superior murmured, sounding interested. “Do you want me to drop you off at home, little one? Is it bedtime for you yet?”

Peter shook his head adamantly, pouting. “Nooo, I wanna stay with you.” He glanced up, craning his neck, and found the Superior looking down at him.

“Always saying the right things, little dove.”

Peter smiled. He was being good, and now he got to fly with the Superior, and he’d ask if they could do the same thing tomorrow night, too. He was sure he’d get a yes in return.

He turned his attention back to the buildings they shot past, then gasped. “What’s that?” he pointed at the large tower standing tall and proud amongst all the other buildings.

“That’s my tower.”

“Yours?” Peter gasped, eyes wide. “You live there? ‘s so big!”

The Superior nodded, speed picking up the slightest bit. “Do you want to see it?”

Peter didn’t hesitate. “Yes! Please!”

The Superior chuckled. “Well, only because you asked so nicely. I do have a weak spot for pretty words.” With that, he held onto Peter tighter before shooting off towards the tower.

Peter squealed, covering his face with his hands. “Can’t breathe!” he proclaimed dramatically, hearing the wind whip past his ears.

The Superior laughed above him. “Don’t be ridiculous, little one. You’re perfectly fine.”

Peter gave a little wriggle, but he didn’t voice any more protests as they neared the tower.

It was even more grand up close, with big fat letters that said “STARK” and windows that reflected the moonlight that shone down on them. Peter squirmed to get down, and when their feet landed on the platform, their shadows painted streaks across the floor.

“Wow,” Peter breathed, craning his neck to stare up at the sky. They were so close to the moon, he could feel it. He wondered what the moon would feel like in his hand. Cold and heavy, maybe. “Mr. Superior?”

“Hm?”

“Can you get the moon for me?” Peter turned big, pleading eyes to the Superior.

The Superior chuckled. “Perhaps one day, little one.” He outstretched a hand, and Peter took it, obediently scampering by his heel like an excited puppy as they walked towards the open door.

The Superior led him inside, then let go of his hand. Peter immediately ran to the large windows and pressed his nose against it. “‘s so pretty.”

“Do you like the view?”

Peter nodded without turning to look at him.

Then, there was a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly to get his attention. Peter looked up and met a pair of pale blue eyes. “You see that, little one?” Peter followed the Superior’s finger to stare out of the window and at the sparkling city before him. “This is my world. This is my universe. I own it all. And if you’re good, I can give you some of it too.”

“For me?” Peter’s eyes widened. “But— but I dunno how to own it.” He could barely keep track of where he left his stuffies, never mind buildings.

The Superior chuckled. “Well, it’s why you have me. You can always ask for help.” He ran a soothing hand through Peter’s wind-tousled hair. “Are you hungry?”

“Mhm.” Peter blinked up pleadingly. “Pizza.”

The Superior rolled his eyes. “You always want pizza.”

“‘cause it’s good!” Peter pouted.

“Fine. But only one with veggies on it.”

Peter pulled a face, but he knew he’d already lost the fight. Maybe he could pick them off when the pizza came. He followed the Superior towards the kitchen, counting the number of windows they passed by. Then— “Mr. Superior?”

“Hm?” The Superior looked down at him.

“Can you— can you help me? Um, to count to 100?” Peter asked softly.

The Superior appraised him, then smiled. “Oh, little one, you most definitely asked the right person.”

Peter smiled, biting his bottom lip happily, then got up onto his tip-toes to plant a quick, shy kiss to the Superior’s cheek. “Thank you.”

He knew he could always ask the Superior for help.

part 2?? maybe?? tagging: @vaguekiwi @carelessannie @starkentrprises @thegreenmetblue @professional-benaddict

#starker #ironspider #sim!tony #peterparkerbingo2021 #tsbmv #little!peter #daddy!tony #my fics #please i did not mean to turn this into a 3k fic #idk if i’ll do a part 2 but maybe :0

[lemonpeter]

Angel

@peterparkerbingo (I KNOW, IM SORRY): Corruption

I am officially on winter break lol I’m hoping to be a lot more active here. I’m gonna do my best to finish this bingo and my kinktober. I hope y’all enjoy 💙

Warnings: mafia au (mostly just for reference), blood mention, background de@th implication, idolization

***

From the very beginning Tony made it clear that Peter was only to be dressed in white.

The man’s wardrobe looked like a freshly fallen snow.

Tony always heard that white was the color of purity. It symbolized perfection. No one personified perfection like Peter did. So he was to be presented as such. He was an angel on earth.

Peter didn’t mind. He figured that he could do what Tony expected. And he liked the way the clean white coverings made his freckles and dark eyes stand out. Sure, he was almost constantly worried that he would stain something, but Tony took care of that too.

What couldn’t be washed was gotten rid of. Not a single spot would be tolerated, marring his perfect prince’s image. Everything had to stay pristine if it was expected to touch Peter’s skin.

Everything except him, that was.

***

Peter didn’t move, frozen in place. He hadn’t just done that. There was no way he’d just done that.

The gun dropped from his hands and hit the floor with a loud clang.

Tony looked over him, taking in the thick spray of red that stained the young man’s white button down and slacks. The blood seeped into the fabric, creating stains that he knew would never come out. “Oh, sweetheart.” His lips dropped at the corners in a disappointed frown.

He should have known that the purity couldn’t last. Peter had been tainted from the moment Tony got his hands on him.

Peter’s eyes were wide and full of fear. “I’m sorry. I didn’t- that’s not-” he was gasping for air as if he was drowning.

He ruined his clothes. Not with a drip from lunch or someone else bumping into him or something else not really in his control. He was stained with blood.

And Tony was going to get rid of him.

Tony stood up silently, pain in his eyes as he gently picked Peter up.

The younger man didn’t fight, clutching at his shirt and burying his face in his neck. “Please, Tony, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” He didn’t want to die.

Tony didn’t respond, carrying him to an unfamiliar room. Peter squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to see what was going to happen to him. Then he was set down on a couch and he frowned. “Tony?” He kept his eyes closed tight.

The man started by unbuttoning the ruined shirt. He didn’t say anything. Not yet.

Peter choked on a sob. “What are you doing? Why- why can’t you just get it over with?”

The older man pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Let’s get you changed.” He should have expected it. Nothing pure could exist around him. It was just his nature. “Don’t cry.”

He kept the process slow, carefully stripping away the soiled layers. Nothing underneath had been touched, but he knew that it had to go anyway. His prince wasn’t pure. He’d been corrupted by the very one aiming to keep him that way.

He didn’t speak again until Peter was completely bare, shivering in the chilled air of the room. The young man had stopped crying and just allowed him to work. It was much easier that way.

“I’m sorry I ruined you,” Tony murmured, hands placed gently on the man’s thighs. Even if he was no longer pure, he was still so good. Soft. So many things that Tony wasn’t. “I thought I could keep you the way you were. My angel.” He stood up slowly, walking to the closet and pulling out a robe. It was deep red silk, nearly matching the fresh stains on the clothes on the floor.

“I should have known better than to keep an angel. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

Peter let himself be wrapped in the smooth fabric, eyes on Tony the entire time. “Do I still get to stay?”

“Of course, honey. But now you can be whatever you want to be.”

He’d mourn the loss of his angel. But later he would wrap his prince in the colors of royalty, power, and loyalty.

Things would be okay, even if they weren't perfect.

#starker #peter parker #tony stark #tony x peter #tony stark x peter parker #my writing #peterparkerbingo2021 #I’m not exactly sure what this is or how I feel about it? #but I got really into writing it lol so I hope it’s not too bad

[peterrparrkerr]

We've got a @peterparkerbingo masterlist! Make sure to read the tags before you get into some of these, there's a few that aren't for everyone.

↓↓↓Links to ao3 below↓↓↓

Forced Nudity

Size Difference

"I Didn't Mean To!"

Autofellatio

Muzzled

In Public

Humiliation

Regular Customer

Omegaverse

Punishment

Double Penetration

Non-Con

Mafia Boss X Kept Boy

Sloppy Seconds

Frottage

Lost/Secret Heir

Superior Ironman

Gang Bang

Fake Relationship

Mermaid AU

Accidental Baby Acquisition

Made To Order Bride

Literal Spawn of Satan

Bodyguard

#marvel #peter parker #peterparkerbingo2021 #masterlist #nff #starker #winterspider #spidershield

[starker-sorbet]

It had been several months since Peter had sent his alpha and king off to defend their land from their invading neighbors.

And while it was hard being separated from his lover whilst ruling in his absence as well as attending to his own duties as Omega Consort, Peter comforted himself with the gift his love had given him on the night that he left. Not that Tony knew of the new life growing inside his mate. In fact Peter himself hadn't known of their pup until several days later when he found himself nesting outside of heat and feeling ill each morn.

But with no news on the war arriving Peter began to prepare for the birth alone, despite praying that his love would arrive ahead of their child. Until one day, nearly nine months after the army left, the castle received word that his mate had successfully repealed the invaders and was returning. Peter eagerly began to prepare to greet Tony, so much that he lost track of the weeks and his count of the length of his pregnancy. So much so that when his husband did return not only was Peter waiting at the castle gates to welcome him home, but in the excitement of their reunion the pair soon found themselves greeting a new pup to their pack and a new prince to their kingdom.

Medieval au for @peterparkerbingo

bingo card below

#starker #peterparkerbingo2021 #medieval au #moodboard #my moodboard #tw: omegaverse #tw: mpreg

[sinditia]

The Boss's Boy - Happy/Peter one-shot with background Starker

Summary: Happy’s used to the beautiful men and women who come in and out of Tony’s life (aka bed) but there’s something about Peter, who’s different than all the people Tony’s had before. Happy pines after him and tries to resist when a sad and lonely Peter seduces him one night.

Warnings: nff, infidelity (implied Tony cheating on Peter; Peter cheats on Tony with Happy), voyeurism/exhibitionism (sort of)

--

Happy has been Tony Stark’s chauffeur, bodyguard, wingman, for years and years now. He knows the man’s habits, what he likes and what he doesn’t like, which are important for things like moving him around throughout the day. But arguably more importantly, at least to his boss anyway, it’s also important for filtering the many, many people who vie for Tony’s attention.

Some eager hopeful would approach, Tony would pretend not to notice but he’d pause a little until Happy either gives an imperceptible shake of the head, no you wouldn’t like this one, or discreetly mutter, “they’re cute” and then Tony would deign to give them the time of day. Final decision lies with the boss obviously but Happy helps whittle down the candidates so as not to overwhelm him. Tony Stark’s is a hard life after all.

And so it goes. Happy helps get the people into Tony’s bed and Pepper kicks them out in the morning. It’s a system that works for their boss and it’s one that runs on pretty much the regular.

Until Peter that is.

Peter Parker is the boss’s latest plaything and he’s different than the usual in several ways. For one thing he’s young, younger than what Tony would usually go for. But he’s pretty. So pretty that he puts all the previous conquests to shame. With the boy’s big, innocent-looking brown eyes and slender, tight body, Happy thinks if he were in Tony’s shoes he’d shoot his shot too so it’s not like he blames him exactly. He just thinks it’d be a shame to see this one get discarded like all the others.

For another thing, Peter is genuinely, unabashedly a good person. Hanging off of a billionaire’s arm doesn’t turn him into a grating, entitled nightmare. He doesn’t look down that pretty nose at Happy like he’s ‘the help’ and not one of the very, very few people Tony actually trusts. All of Tony’s hook-ups are gorgeous, that’s for sure. But Peter is the only one Happy actually likes.

Happy ushers the couple out the back door of a club and into the car. Peter’s absolutely smashed. Tony’s been plying him with vodka shots and coke lines all night and he’s been taking it all like the real good boy that he is. He giggles as he stumbles into the backseat, crawling onto the leather upholstery, Tony climbing in predatorily after him.

Happy settles in the seat up front and drives them out of there. Behind him, Tony has Peter pinned against the seats, not so much kissing as devouring him, sloppy and inebriated as they both are.

“Mmh, Daddy, wait-,” Peter protests weakly, slightly muffled against the onslaught of Tony’s attention.

“Come on, baby, you’re so fucking hot tonight. I want you so bad,” Tony says in that coaxing drawl of his, the one Happy has often witnessed capable of literally dropping any pair of panties in the vicinity. It’s the one where Tony always gets his way.

“Happy’s right there.”

“He doesn’t mind. You don’t mind, do ya, Hap?” Tony does something that makes Peter let out a little squeal.

“Not at all, boss,” Happy answers, trying to sound as unaffected as he usually would. But his boss’s usual acquisitions have never been his type. This one, though, with his soft, breathy, little whimpers that he’s trying so hard to hold in, the way his wide, angelic eyes catch Happy’s shyly through the rear view mirror. Yeah, Happy’s starting to get hard in his suit pants.

“See? It’s all good, baby.”

Happy hears Peter let out a gasp that devolves into full on unrestrained moaning. Happy can’t help but take another peek through the rear view mirror, finding Peter with his head thrown back, mouth parted in pleasure as Tony latches onto his neck, one hand shoved inside the boy’s pants deep enough for Happy to know that he’s got a couple of fingers in him. Happy tears his eyes away to focus his attention back on the road before he wrecks his boss’s expensive car.

Peter’s moans get louder as he lets Tony defile him in the backseat. Happy turns the music up on the stereo as far as he could get away with it.

--

Another thing that makes Peter different from all the rest is that he becomes a regular in Tony’s life. Tony has Happy pick the boy up from his apartment in Queens. He always looks so happy to see him, skipping down the steps in his tight-fitting faded jeans and soft-looking sweaters, a bright smile on his adorable face as though it’s Happy that he’s delighted to see and not the prospect of seeing his employer.

Happy would drive him to Tony’s penthouse at Stark Tower where the boy would spend the night, maybe two if Tony’s schedule allows it. Then in the morning Happy would drive him back to Queens, Peter in the passenger seat with a smile that’s a little more subdued, that pale, slender neck mottled with the marks of Tony’s ownership.

It’s the way of the world, Happy’s perfectly aware of this. Rich, handsome bastards get to fuck whoever the fuck they wanted. Men like Tony Stark get their pick of the endless parade of attractive people ready to spread their legs and begging to suck his cock. It’s not like this is anything new to Happy. But seeing someone that pretty, someone that pure get caught up in the debauched whirlwind that is Tony Stark’s life … there might be a tiny bit of resentment growing there.

--

The event Tony’s invited to isn’t on home turf so the security isn’t under Happy’s jurisdiction. He trails loosely behind Tony and Peter, both resplendent in their expensive, tailored suits, watching closely as they make their way around the venue. It’s unlikely that there’d be a security breach at such a high profile event, but you never know.

It’s a work thing, Happy’s never privy to the details. But Stane’s there, and Happy’s never really liked the guy. He likes him even less when he approaches them with that sleazy smirk wrapped around a lit cigar, leering openly at Peter.

“Nice work, Tony,” Stane says appreciatively, gaze raking brazenly up and down Peter’s body.

“Ehh, what’s another award for innovations in science and technology?” Tony says dismissively, pretending not to know exactly what his mentor’s talking about.

“Well, it makes for a good image, that’s for sure,” Stane says, clearly still not talking about the award the company’s apparently there to receive.

Peter is trying not to show how uncomfortable he is, Happy can tell. He can see the way the boy’s grip tightens slightly on Tony’s bicep, but he keeps smiling and doesn’t say anything.

“Baby, why don’t you go get yourself a drink. I gotta talk shop for a bit,” Tony tells Peter.

Peter looks like the last thing he wants is to be left alone in an unfamiliar setting, but he nods all the same. Before he walks away, Tony pulls him in for a long kiss, open-mouthed and much too filthy for a public setting, a clear show of possession. Stane watches them hungrily as Peter pulls away, face flushed and cherry lips bitten red. Peter gives Happy an embarrassed glance before heading towards the bar.

Happy wants so much to go with him, doesn’t like the idea of Peter at the bar all by himself, looking the way he is, much too edible for his own good. But he’s Tony’s bodyguard, not Peter’s, and no matter how much he wants to guard the boy���s body (among other things), he’s being paid to stick with Tony.

While he makes sure Tony is safe enough with the people he talks to, Happy’s gaze can’t help but stray away from his charge and wander towards Peter. The boy is nursing a martini and watching Tony as the man moves around the room. Surprisingly, not many people approach him. It seems like most people at the party are well aware by now that the pretty thing belongs to Tony Stark.

Tony Stark himself isn’t exactly off-limits though. The people who approach him, men and women alike get all up in his space, letting him know that he’s welcome to do whatever he wants with them. Tony relishes the attention, even going so far as to let a particularly curvy brunette press her ample tits against his arm when he whispers something in her ear.

A glance towards the bar has Happy’s heart sinking to his stomach. Peter watches the whole thing with big, sad eyes, jaw clenched looking like he’s about to cry. For the first time in his career, Happy wants to sock his boss in face.

--

Happy is doing that thing where he forces himself to carry an impossible number of grocery bags in the two hands he’s got so he doesn’t have to do it in multiple trips. Taking groceries up to the Stark penthouse isn’t a matter of walking a couple feet of driveway, it’s walking the length of the parking lot, then up eighty fucking floors in an elevator. No, he’s doing it in one trip.

Happy makes a beeline straight to the kitchen before the circulation in his wrist is completely cut off.

In the kitchen, Peter Parker is making breakfast, bacon sizzling in the pan. Peter himself is wearing a wrinkled button-down that clearly belongs to Tony with how loosely it hangs on his slender frame. He’s not wearing any pants and the shirt comes down to just to the top of Peter’s thighs, leaving his long, smooth legs bare and on display.

“Happy! You’ve got the eggs!” Peter exclaims brightly.

Happy takes out the carton and hands it over to him, watching the boy crack a few in a bowl and whisking it.

“Do you want something to drink?” Peter asks, ever the polite host.

“Uh, sure,” Happy hears himself say. He probably should go, shouldn’t stay long. He’s only here to drop off the groceries anyway. But then Peter turns around, reaches up to open a cabinet, in search of a clean glass. The hem of the oversized shirt Peter’s wearing rides up to reveal the delectable curve of his plush, creamy ass, wrapped delicately in sheer, pale pink lace panties. Jesus.

Peter pours Happy a glass of orange juice and offers it to him with a smile that pierces straight into Happy’s heart and he barely manages to choke out a “thanks”.

“Baby, is the food ready yet? I’m starving.” Tony’s voice booms through the kitchen as the man himself walks in shirtless, sweatpants hanging low on his hips. “Oh hey, Happy.”

“Happy got us the eggs just in time. It’ll be done soon,” Peter says, scrambling the eggs in the pan with a spatula.

Tony swoops in behind Peter and wraps his arms around him, enveloping him in a possessive embrace, nuzzling and kissing at his nape.

“Daddy, stop!” Peter giggles, only half-heartedly pushing Tony off him. “You’re gonna make me burn these.”

“Mm, but I’m so hungry, baby,” Tony practically growls. The man relents just enough to let Peter transfer the eggs to some plates and turn off the stove before he’s grabbing at him again, hands slipping between Peter’s legs.

Happy quickly drains his orange juice and mutters, “I gotta get going. I’ll see you later, boss.”

Neither Tony nor Peter make any signs of having heard him and Happy books it out of there. From behind him, Happy hears Peter’s giggles turn into outright moaning and he walks faster to the elevator.

--

Happy isn’t supposed to be here but he couldn’t help it. Tony had let Peter stay in the penthouse while he’s off on a business trip overseas. Happy doesn’t know why Peter would want to. The place is cold and empty and it’s not like Tony would be there to keep him company. The place would be empty except for maybe the housekeeper who’d show up in the mornings to keep things clean.

Happy just wanted to check on Peter, that’s all. Make sure everything’s okay.

The elevator doors to the penthouse slide open and blaring music hits him. Peter is in the living room wearing one of Tony’s vintage band t-shirts and black lacy panties, gripping the neck of a half-empty Macallan, dancing with his eyes closed. He’s a vision of loveliness against the backdrop of the city lights beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, an angel trapped on earth and kept away in a tower.

“Happy!” Peter slurs, face lighting up at the sight of him. His eyes are red-rimmed and he’s a little flushed and Happy wonders if it’s the alcohol or if he’s been crying. Probably both. Peter’s beauty is both devastating and tragic and Happy wants him so much, it hurts.

“Hey, Peter,” Happy says softly. He moves forward to take the whisky bottle from Peter’s hand. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Hmm, never better,” Peter mumbles. Now that he’s got both hands free, he wraps his arms around Happy’s neck and sways his body against him. He continues dancing like that, pressing himself close to Happy’s chest, so close that the man can smell the shampoo in his hair and the alcohol in his breath. The soft swell of Peter’s little, panty-clad cock rubs against Happy’s thighs and the boy’s lips brush against the older man’s neck.

Happy places slightly trembling hands on Peter’s waist, tentative like touching a cauldron over fire. Peter is just as scorching hot and Happy thinks that even if he gets burned, it’s worth it the moment he feels the soft give of Peter’s smooth skin under his calloused hands. He’s only touching to try and stop Peter from pressing closer, maybe push him away. But from the moment he laid his hands on the boy, he’s lost.

By all accounts, Happy is much bigger and should be much stronger than Peter. But he’s helpless to the pressure of Peter’s dainty hands on his chest, pushing him back until he’s seated on the couch. He’s powerless to stop the boy from climbing onto his lap, thighs spread open like he’s made to have men hard and horny between his legs.

Happy runs his hands up Peter’s smooth thighs, wondering if they taste as creamy as they look. Up and up his hands go until they reach the delicate, lacy edges of Peter’s panties hugging the graceful curve of the boy’s hips. Peter plays with the collar of Happy’s shirt, tugging at the top buttons until it pops undone.

“Happy, Happy,” Peter sighs. God, his name sounds so good in the boy’s mouth. “I get so lonely when Tony isn’t here. What do you think he’s doing over there? Do you think … do you think he’s messing around with someone else?”

“I don’t know, kid,” Happy says honestly. He knows where he’d put his money if he was a betting man, but there’s no way to know for sure, really. There’s a non-zero possibility that his boss is sitting in his hotel room pining after Peter the way his boy is pining after him. But if that were the case, then he’d probably at least call, and Peter wouldn’t be sitting here, curled up on his lap like a touch-starved cat. Plus there was that paparazzi photo posted earlier with Tony at a restaurant with some people, a blonde hanging onto him, getting a little too familiar.

“I wanna call, just to hear his voice, but I don’t wanna be clingy. I don’t wanna be like all the others. You gotta be cool if you wanna be Tony’s boy. You gotta keep him into you, gotta be game for anything. You know he likes them bad and slutty.” Peter twines his arms around Happy’s neck and squirms on his lap, rubbing his body against his chest. “God, the things I’ve let him do to me, put inside me.” Peter moans, as though the mere thought of getting fucked is getting him so close to coming already.

Happy is fully, no-turning-back hard right now. Peter knows it too, with the way he’s grinding his perky little ass on it. And fuck, does it feel so goddamn good.

“I’d give it up to him whenever, wherever he wants it. Even at a party, with so many people around, he’d shove his fingers inside me, make me come right there in front of everyone.” Peter throws his head back and moans, moving his hips so that Happy’s throbbing hard-on rubs right up against his hole through his panties. “And now he’s ruined me, Happy,” Peter whines. “I need something in me all the time now. I feel so empty, Happy. You wanna fill me up? Get your fingers in there?” Peter takes one of Happy’s hands from where it grips, tight and desperate on his hips, and sticks two of his fingers into his hot, slick mouth.

“Oh fuck,” Happy curses, the sensation of all that soft, wet suction shooting straight to his dick. He’s transfixed at the way Peter’s lips wrap around him, slipping his fingers in and out of that luscious pout of a mouth. Peter’s eyes are on his as he fellates the fingers in his mouth. His eyes are a little unfocused, a little red around the edges, but so beautiful. Wide, brown, angel eyes gazing up at him, somehow looking both innocent and sinful in equal measure.

Peter takes one final suck of Happy’s fingers before releasing him, letting the tips of them drag down the hot length of his tongue. He guides them behind him, slips them in his panties and down to his hole.

Happy could only groan when his fingers slip inside, nice and easy, like sliding straight into hell. It’s scorching hot too, and sinfully slick. Peter whimpers at the intrusion, and the sound of it goes straight to Happy’s dick.

“Been playing with myself all day,” Peter mumbles, rocking his hips against the fingers he’s shoved inside him. “Needed something inside me, but it’s not enough. I need … Oh God, Happy, I need…”

“What is it, sweetheart, what do you need?” Happy’s certain that Peter would say ‘Tony’, that he’s what Peter needs. The good, decent, and helplessly paralyzed part of him is hoping that Peter would say it so Happy will have the strength to resist the beautiful boy on his lap who’s currently writhing on his fingers. Oh God, Happy has his fingers inside him.

But what Peter says next does exactly zero things to help Happy’s self-control.

“I need to get fucked. Please fuck me,” Peter moans, low and desperate. He clenches around Happy’s fingers and the older man can’t help but shove them in a little harder, a little faster, giving the boy what he wants because how can you not? Not when he’s looking like that, sounding like that. “My hole feels so achy. Just put your cock inside me, Happy. You want it, right? I know you want it. ”

He does. God help him, he does.

Peter unbuttons Happy’s pants and takes out his cock. Happy hisses at the contact, arousal spiking at the obscene sight of the boy’s dainty little hand wrapped around the hard, throbbing length of him.

“I’ll make it so good for you. You know I will,” Peter murmurs, stroking the older man expertly. He rises up on his knees to slip off his panties and leans over to grab a bottle of lube from a side table. Before Happy could even get his lust-addled brain to realize what’s happening, he feels Peter guide his cock right against that slicked up rim, sinking in hot and tight.

Happy lets out a strangled gasp at the unbelievable sensation of Peter’s body wrapped around his aching cock. The boy squirms on his lap, the grip of his hole pulling and tugging so deliciously on him. And when Peter starts riding him, hips rocking in expert, sinuous movements, Happy is completely lost.

“That feels good, right, Happy?” Peter murmurs. When Happy could only nod, panting, helplessly lost in the heated clench of his body, Peter continues in a little whine, “tell me, Happy. Tell me I feel good.”

“God, you’ve no idea kid,” Happy grunts, hips bucking up involuntarily, chasing that unbelievable pleasure that lives inside Peter’s wet hole. “You feel so fucking good, I can’t believe this is happening.”

Happy knows Peter’s only using him. The boy is sad and drunk and vulnerable, feeling unwanted because his asshole of a boyfriend is out of town getting his rocks off with some random slut. How anyone would go around chasing some other tail when they could fuck Peter’s tight hole on the regular is beyond Happy’s comprehension. But he couldn’t give less of a shit right now, not when he’s got his dick buried in the best cunt in the world.

Peter bounces on him mindlessly, rubbing the older man’s rock-hard cock against his insides like he can’t get enough. It makes Happy dizzy with arousal how hungry and desperate the boy looks, eyes glazed with lust, curls shaking with every buck of his hips. Peter’s got a lovely pink glow high on his cheeks, the flush spreading down his neck. The oversized t-shirt he’s still wearing slips past his slender shoulders and Happy can’t help but put his mouth there, sucking and kissing at the smooth, creamy skin.

“God, Peter,” Happy groans, holding the boy close, trailing his mouth up his neck.

Peter makes a frustrated noise at the back of his throat and pushes the older man away. He gets up off Happy’s lap and gets on all fours on the couch with his back to him. “Fuck me,” he pleads, looking over his shoulder.

Happy hesitates, for just a brief second. He knows why Peter wants it this way. It stings him just enough for him to waver for the tiniest moment.

But then Peter reaches back and tugs his ass cheeks open, slender fingers rubbing at that puffy pink hole, the tip of his index finger sinking in that soft wetness so easily, hooking the rim open, and god, fuck, that’s so pretty. Happy moves like a man bewitched.

On his knees on the couch cushions, Happy positions himself behind Peter, aching cock in hand and directs it to that sweet, hungry little hellmouth beckoning him. He shoves in hard, rough fingers digging into the smooth skin of Peter’s slender waist.

Peter lets out a low, pleased noise from deep in his throat, hole squeezing wet and tight and voracious. Happy fucks him like a jackrabbit. He fucks him for more of that, for more of those sounds, for more of that mind-blowingly blissful clench around his cock.

He’s probably being too rough, yanking the boy on and off him like a fleshlight but Happy can’t hold himself back at this point. Peter isn’t complaining, moaning and gasping in a gorgeous incoherent mess, hole fluttering like it can’t get enough.

“Daddy-” Peter’s eyes are squeezed shut, mouth parted, panting.

Happy shoves in harder, faster, shifting his angle so that he’s hitting Peter’s sensitive pleasure spot. The boy cries out even with his face half-pressed into cushions, drool starting to drip onto the expensive fabric of Tony’s couch.

Happy doesn’t falter. He gives as good as he’s got. Some part of him, some tiny little part that’s not completely consumed by the fire of lust wonders if this is how Tony does it, if any of this lives up to the man Peter is no doubt picturing behind his closed eyelids.

“Daddy, please, I need you,” Peter practically sobs.

They both need this, in different ways, for different reasons. Happy slips a hand between Peter’s legs and takes his weeping cock in hand, stroking him in time with his ever-quickening thrusts. It makes Peter whimper and squeeze around him harder and fuck, it’s so good, it’s everything Happy’s ever wanted.

Happy’s a weak man. Here he is, on his boss’s couch, his boss’s boy moaning on his cock, filling his boss’s penthouse with the sounds of his pleasured groans and lewd noises of skin slapping against each other.

Happy wonders if Tony would even care.

Peter tenses in his hold as he screams out his climax. There’s probably Tony’s name in there somewhere but Happy can’t hear it through the white noise in his head. He snaps his hips, fucking through the wet, delicious spasms around his cock until he spills too with a loud groan.

--

The oversized designer sunglasses Peter is wearing covers half his face so Happy can’t tell what he’s feeling when he glances at him through the rear-view mirror as he drives them to the airport to pick Tony up. Peter’s usual friendly chatter is replaced by glum silence as he spends most of the ride there staring out the windows.

They don’t talk about what happened.

Happy stops the car on the runway. It’s not a long wait before the Stark jet descends and makes it way towards them.

Peter straightens up and smiles as the cabin doors are opened.

There’s some fussing with the airstairs and there Tony is, pulling on his suit jacket as a flight attendant straightens his tie. Happy remembers this one. He vets all the attendants on Tony’s flights because he knows what the man likes, the kind of quality of service he expects. Happy notices that the skirt on her short, tight, Stark Jet uniform is a little crooked.

Peter’s smile falters a little.

Tony’s smile is a million watts bright as he skips casually down the stairs to greet them. “Hey baby, you didn’t have to pick me up,” he says, swooping Peter into his arms and kissing him.

“I wanted to. I missed you so much,” Peter murmurs. His arms are still around Tony’s neck and he pulls the man in for another kiss, all teeth and tongue, deep and filthy and possessive.

Happy turns away to start the car.

Tony and Peter don’t stop kissing and groping each other as Happy drives them back to the penthouse. Peter is making those sounds again and Happy tries not think about they felt like under his touch.

Happy hears Tony chuckle. “Fuck, baby, you sure? Happy’s right there.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t mind,” comes Peter’s reply.

Tony groans long and low. A glance to the rearview mirror shows Peter’s head buried in the man’s unbuttoned lap, a hand in his hair guiding his up-and-down movements.

--

@peterparkerbingo

(yes, i'm trying to squeeze in as many peterparkerbingo fills before the deadline)

((in my defence, here peter turns from being a sweet lovely boy into a cheating bastard so it is sort of a hero turned villain story. right? right?? 😅))

#marsha writes #nff #starker #peterparkerbingo2021 #happy hogan x peter parker

[x-gon-give-it]

For the Peter Parker Bingo, using my free space:

Vampire!Peter. An AU where Peter got bitten by a vampire and doesn’t know how to control these wild new urges. Unfortunately, Wade didn’t stop him in time from drawing blood.

(Trying to get a new bingo card before the time limit is up - 3 days - so expect a couple more pictures over the next few days as I scramble to finish this card) sorry if it’s a lil dark

@peterparkerbingo

#peterparkerbingo2021 #peter parker #spideypool #spider-man #deadpool #wade wilson #my art #fan art #otp #free space #vampire AU #angsty #tw: blood

[thegreenmetblue]

✨ mermaid au ✨

click on the pic for better quality

the day peter found that tony stark was drowning, suddenly nothing else mattered. his secret identity ? the fact he wasn’t a human ? the fact all his family’s secret could blow out ? nothing.

all that mattered was saving his human, that ravaging beautiful human peter was now so used to admire everyday through this surface of water separating both of their worlds.

but today, today they’re one, and when tony wakes up, laying on the sand at the beach, he doesn’t know it yet.

he doesn’t know that by saving him, peter let a trace of his magic inside him, a pink mark that’ll bond them forever.

first square for @peterparkerbingo 🙈💖🥺

#starker #starker fanart #leah draws one time per year #peter parker bingo 2021 #peterparkerbingo2021

[sadachmesarthim]

the sun burns out tonight

content: SIM!Tony, kidnapping, puppy play? kind of? minor character death - and everything that could come with all of that shit. no porn just angst 

peter parker bingo fill: muzzled ; starker bingo fill: SIM!Tony ; words: 350 

“Always such a fickle thing, weren’t you?”

The voice was muted, as if heard behind cotton. His eyes burned, he could barely feel his arms and legs-

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you, Pup.”

Peter forced his eyes open, wincing at the drag of swollen lids against dry corneas. The lights were dim but they still hurt, tears clouding his vision from the scene in front of him. 

He still wasn’t sure if he wanted to see or not. 

He hadn’t heard any other heartbeats in the cell for days, screams and struggles fading out steadily. He’d heard Clint go first, Bruce, Steve, and Rhodey following quickly behind. 

They fought as hard as they could, but they weren’t at all a match against their captor. He was... he was Superior, in every way, shape, form. 

Bucky gave up a great fight, teaming up with Sam and Natasha. All things considered, with no weapons and down one bionic arm, they gave Him a run for His money. They were skilled fighters. Peter heard several distinct confrontations between the group before shots finally rang out and his friends’ bodies dropped. 

Peter’d been muzzled almost immediately after. 

He might’ve been too loyal to fight back, but Peter wasn’t above yelling. 

The bit Tony’d pressed into his mouth fit well, forcing his tongue down gently as the straps were tightened. Tony met his eyes as he finished, smile breaking his otherwise icy demeanor. 

“Good pups are to be seen, not heard. And God, what a sight you make...” He stood back, admiring his handiwork. Peter almost thought that was it, before Tony threw a harsh slap square across his face. Stunned, Peter dropped to all fours, silent save for the shaking clinks of his restraints. 

“See? Already so good, so well behaved for me.” He bent down, forcing Peter to meet his eyes.

“If you continue to be good, I’ll take your muzzle off. Okay, Pup?” Peter nodded, tears falling silently. 

Tony turned, pausing in the doorway before taking his leave.

“You’ll learn to love it here. I promise.”

thank u @thebonerpit​ and @callmebill​ for encouraging the angst i adore u both smooch

#.mine #?????? yell at me if i forget tags #starker #tony stark x peter parker #peter parker x tony stark #peter parker / tony stark #tony stark / peter parker #sim!tony #dark!tony #nff #kidnapping tw #violence tw #death tw #peterparkerbingo2021 #sfsummerbingo21 #starkerfestivalsevents #uhh #yeah #idk man #this is angst #tw #kidnapping #yeah i know two in one day woah #do i post this now or later #i'm gonna schedule it for midnight #see u fuckers at midnight

[peterparkerbingo]

Rules | FAQs | Schedule | Sign ups | AO3 Collection

Welcome to our first year of the Peter Parker Bingo! For this event, we welcome anything and everything that has to do with our friendly neighborhood spider-man!

We want to share with you the rules and some frequently asked questions, as well as our schedule for this event, which you can find in the links above or in our bio! SIGN-UPS ARE OPEN NOW! SIGN UP HERE! Cards will be sent out starting July 1st. 

We're hosting this event from July 1st to December 31st, with sign ups ending August 10th. After August 10th, late sign-ups will be available with pre-made cards. 

We can't wait to see all of your wonderful submissions! Please be patient with us; this is our first event and there might be a few bugs!

- Your mods, Jae and Basil

#peter parker #spiderman #starker #winterspider #spidershield #irondad #spideyvenom #spideypool #parkner #teenker #marvel events #mcu #petermj #parksborn #petergwen #peterparkerbingo2021 #team red #spideytorch

[iamnotparticularlyproud]

PPB Square: Possessive Behavior | @peterparkerbingo​

word count: 1.7k rating: explicit warnings: rough s_x, degrading and possessive language, org_sm denial ao3 link: https://bit.ly/36dxXWh

“Do you have any idea how it felt, sweetheart? When I had to watch that piece of shit put his hands on you, and you fucking smiled like you do for me?”

Peter can barely listen, let alone respond. Although the gala just happened, the memory of letting that overly flirty businessman touch him a bit too much is so distant, it feels like a lifetime ago. All that matters now is the feeling of Tony drilling him into the mattress, pushing deeper than Peter ever thought possible.

“I had to pretend like I didn’t care, but I was seeing red, baby.” Tony continues, his breath fanning over Peter’s nape, “Had to keep talking to all those nobodies, when all I wanted was to show that asshole only I touch you like that.” His fingers dig into Peter’s hips, punctuating his point, “Isn’t that right?”

When Peter only gives a choking gasp at the combination of it all - Tony’s claiming words, his bruising grip, his unrelenting pace - Tony abruptly stops, mid-thrust.

“N-No, please,” Peter heaves, because it’s too good to stop, Tony needs to -

“Oh, now you talk?” Tony condescends, and when Peter just wriggles in response, shifting his hips back and forth in a mindless attempt to get that intoxicating feeling back, Tony adds, “Where was this enthusiasm when I asked you a question?”

Peter has to concentrate to recall it, and then to find the wherewithal to answer. When he finally accomplishes both, he responds, high and breathless, “Y-You, only you c-can touch me like that.”

Peter’s still pretty out of it, but he swears Tony growls before he counters, “Then why did you let him touch you?”

It’s still so hard to think - all Peter wants is the mind-numbing cacophony of sensations back - so instead of trying to find another answer, he begs, “I don’t - don’t know, ‘m sorry, jus’ please keep going,”

One of Tony’s hands comes up to Peter’s jaw, pulling his head up from it’s place against the sheets to meet Tony’s burning gaze. The angle is awkward, but Peter doesn’t even consider the strain as their eyes meet; the intensity of it all and the rawness in his stare surprises Peter, and a whine catches in his throat.

“I jus’ - “ Peter cuts himself off, trying to overcome the sudden wave of embarrassment, “I-I wanted to see what you would do.”

The searing look in Tony’s eyes turns incredulous. Tony moves his hand from Peter’s jaw to his hair and pulls hard, so much harder than he’s ever pulled before, and he starts thrusting into him again, still so rough but edging on frantic, now. Peter falls back into the bed, unable to hold himself up against the onslaught.

“What the fuck did you think I would do, sweetheart?” Tony’s angry tone is undercut by the breathless edge to his voice, “You know I don’t like sharing my toys.”

Being referred to as a toy - as Tony’s toy - sends a sharp spear of pleasure through Peter, and his cock leaks precome where it’s pressed between him and the bed. He can barely understand his own muttered words as he tries, “M-Mr. Sta-”

Tony cuts him off swiftly, pulling his hair again and saying, “No, none of that shit. I’m not fucking around. What the fuck did you think would happen, Peter?”

Peter can’t respond, because it’s all too intense in the best way possible. The slick slide of Tony’s cock in and out of him, hitting his prostate head on with each push forward while his own dick rubs against the soft sheets, is about to take Peter over the edge, and he can’t find the voice to warn Tony, only to moan wantonly -

But he knows, anyway. Tony uses his grip on Peter to pull them both upward, effectively sitting Peter onto his lap while leaning on his calves, then squeezes his hand around the base of Peter’s cock. It pulls him from the precipice and rips a mangled groan of frustration from his lips as he jolts in Tony’s embrace.

“No, precious. You’ve gotta answer me, first.”

Peter feels tears prickling in the corner of his eyes as he drops his head back onto Tony’s shoulder, face somehow burning hotter, “I ca-can’t remem - “

Tony doesn’t let him finish the question, saying into his neck as he gives sharp, short thrusts into Peter, “Did you think I’d roll over and let you pull that shit?”

Tony doesn’t even sound like he believes it as he says it, and Peter would laugh at the mere suggestion, but he’s too busy trying to push back onto Tony’s cock, to get him as deep as before. He only manages to shake his head, just a bit.

Tony hums, exaggerated, then continues, “Maybe you wanted me to get jealous? Did you act like a cheap whore to get a rise out of me, huh?”

The shame that courses through Peter from the words is piercing, but thrilling. He nods, hoping it’s enough for Tony to keep going, but he does Peter one better; he moves his hands to under Peter’s thighs and uses the leverage to lift him and drop him back onto his cock.

“Then I’ll treat you like a cheap whore, baby boy.” Tony promises, and Peter only has time to shiver before Tony’s moving him up and down like he weighs nothing, forcing his dick so, so deep into Peter, he wonders if it makes a bulge in his stomach.

Tony completely ignores his cock as Peter writhes on top of him, and when he tries to wrap a hand around his aching dick, Tony catches his wrist and pulls his arm behind his back, holding it there for just a moment before dropping his grasp and trusting Peter to keep it there.

“Nuh-uh,” he teases, “whores come hands free.”

Though Peter tries to blink them away, the tears fall, now. He’s so hard it aches, and it’s beyond any frustration he’s felt before. It makes Peter appreciate the toe-curling pleasure he gets from his cock hitting his prostate even more, and he starts rolling his hips in time with Tony’s.

“Fuck,” Tony groans, “you feel so goddamn good, my own little slut.”

Peter can only choke out a wet gasp in response. He’s lost in the pleasure of it all as they move together, Tony’s large, sturdy hands on his hips the only thing grounding Peter. 

Tony pauses while he’s buried balls deep in Peter to grind into his prostate, keeping the pressure intense and relentless, and Peter knows it’s just moments, but it feels like hours before he’s coming with a strangled sob.

Although Tony stops aiming for Peter’s oversensitive bunch of nerves, he doesn’t let up his momentum, and Peter doesn’t have the energy to do anything but fall limp against his chest. He’s only distantly aware of Tony’s thrusts becoming more and more frenzied.

“You’re mine, angel,” Tony rumbles, “all fuckin’ mine.”

Peter tries to agree, but he can’t get it to come out, so he settles for a desperate, pitiful cry. All the sensations - Tony’s tight grip on his thighs and his warm body pressed against him, Peter’s burning lungs, his too sensitive hole filled to the brim - leave him convulsing, needing more and less simultaneously, and it has more tears spilling down his cheeks. Tony is lost in his own haze of pleasure above him, ignoring Peter’s quiet hiccups and squirming, as he keeps bouncing Peter on his cock.

Then, before Peter can realize what’s happening, Tony pushes him back into the mattress, wrapping his arms around Peter’s torso to pull his back to his chest. Tony drives greedy, aborted thrusts into him, and Peter barely musters the strength to bring his hands up to hold onto Tony’s arms, otherwise laying boneless below him.

With a deep, guttural moan, Tony comes inside of him, his hips jerking in uncontrolled, hectic movements. Peter whimpers as Tony’s pulsating cock nudges his prostate, making his dick twitch valiantly, despite Peter knowing he’s too exhausted for a round two.

When Tony starts to pull away, Peter has a difficult time letting him; his hold on Tony’s arms are tight, tighter than he thought he could hold right now, and he leans back into Tony as he tries to separate them. Tony wins the struggle, though, and as he eases his flaccid cock out of him, Peter can’t help but give another soft cry.

Peter’s hardly aware of Tony’s gentle shushing as he turns him over with accommodating touches and soothing murmurs of affection. He feels Tony reach across the bed, and then he’s easing Peter’s legs open and lifting him up carefully to clean the mess between them.

Peter whines as Tony grazes over his sensitive rim with a cursory wipe. He thinks he hears Tony speak, but it’s too far away for him to listen. Tony leans back, away from Peter, taking his comforting presence and heat with him. Peter feels the shifting of the bed as Tony gets off, leaving him alone in the expansive bed and soiled sheets.

Time is just a vague notion as Peter waits for Tony to come back, but he does eventually. If Peter had the energy, he’s sure he would’ve sobbed with relief - the return of Tony’s hands against him is grounding, and he’s suddenly filled with a desperate need to speak.

“’m sorry,” Peter mumbles, remembering the fierce look in Tony’s eyes when he admit why he let the stranger at the gala touch him too personally.

Above him, Tony sighs. “No, baby. I should’ve -- ” but he pauses before he finishes the thought, continuing instead with, “We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

Peter nods weakly, then starts as a warm, damp cloth touches the skin of his inner thighs. Tony uses his free hand to stroke a line along his side as he cleans the remaining moisture, and Peter’s chest tightens with his overwhelming love for the man.

“Y-You’re -- ” and it’s Peter’s turn to cut himself off, swallowing hard and turns his eyes to the side, because although he needs to know, he feels too vulnerable asking it, “you’re mine, too... right?”

Tony doesn’t say anything for several moments. Peter’s heart falls a bit, but then he looks up to meet his gaze. It’s soft, a bit melancholy, even, and filled with so much fondness, Peter doesn’t know what to do with it.

“For as long as you’ll have me, angel.”

#peterparkerbingo2021 #starker #starker fanfiction #tony stark x peter parker #tony x peter #nff #i hope blanked the words out right so this shows up in the tags lol #that soft ass ending snuck up on me too okay #my writing

[carelessannie]

take a drink with me

While they’re at a dinner party with friends, Peter and Tony curl up on the couch and exchange wine-sweet kisses.

Free Space “Sharing Drinks" for @starkerfestivals and @peterparkerbingo Word Count: 700 Rating: T Warnings: Alcohol consumption, slight daddy kink and implied intimate relationship (Peter is over 21). Find here on AO3 This is for @snowstark 🥰

---

“Can I have a sip?”

Tony looks up, his face instantly melting into a fond and indulgent smile as his boy stands over him, arms crossed. There’s a glass of wine in Tony’s hand— leftover from the dinner earlier— and even though Peter had refused one before, he’s eyeing the drink with a soft hunger.

Patting his thigh, Tony silently invites Peter to join him on the couch. Most of their friends are preoccupied in other conversations or captivated by the card games happening in the dining room, so they don’t notice when Peter sinks onto his lap.

His arms drape around Tony’s shoulders as he straddles one leg, leaning in for a quick kiss. Tony knows there’s a bit of wine left on his own lips, and Peter’s tongue darts out to chase the taste as he pulls away. It’s enchanting to watch the emotions flash across Peter’s face as he processes the flavor.

“You still want a sip?” Tony asks, swirling his Merlot dramatically. Peter squirms and looks around the room, obviously weighing the consequences of getting tipsy in front of their friends.

A determined look settles across his features, “I do. I still wanna try.”

Tony tries to school his features, keeping them serious and not devious, as he presses the rim of his wine glass to Peter’s gently parted mouth. Peter blinks his eyes. Tony tightens his arm around the younger boy’s waist. And then he tips up the glass, letting the warm liquid dribble past Peter’s lips.

Peter’s eyes flutter shut as he drinks, and then his nose wrinkles and his mouth closes.

Tony pulls the glass away with a chuckle, “Not good?”

“Uh,” Peter smacks his lips— both of which are stained grape-red, “I don’t love it…”

“Rather have one of those fruity mixers?” Tony teases, taking his own sip from the glass. The slightly sweet and dry flavor washes over his tongue, immediately warming him from within and coaxing a pleased hum from deep in his chest. “God, it’s good. Want another?”

Peter nods, eyes wide. His gaze is already glazing over, and Tony can feel him relaxing gradually, slumping further into their embrace. He loves the weight of Peter’s body against his like this— loves holding him up, being trusted to be strong for the both of them.

Another sip shared between them, and Peter slides his legs fully across Tony’s— winding both arms around his waist and resting his head into the crook of the older man’s neck. Peter mumbles something into Tony’s skin, and Tony has to urge him to repeat it.

“M’liking it more, now,” Peter murmurs, his breath hot and damp across Tony’s collarbone.

Tony turns his face to kiss Peter’s temple, “I know. It gets better as you go.”

They trade sips until the wine glass is empty and Peter’s eyes have slipped shut. His fingers are gripping loosely onto Tony’s shirt, and he’s absently mouthing at the base of Tony’s throat.

Tony only feels a little turned on from the attention— the wine working to dull most of his arousal and turn it into buttery smooth, molasses-sweet affection for the boy in his lap. He can feel the heat seeping into his bones, weighing him down.

It only takes a moment to shift them both. The wine glass is set on a nearby table, Peter’s glasses are propped up against them, and Tony swings his legs around to intertwine with Peter’s on the couch cushion.

As they’re settling— Peter practically sprawled over Tony’s chest— the younger man grumbles, “M’not sleepy, don’t need’ta take a nap.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” Tony chuckles, carding his calloused fingers through Peter’s messy curls, “but I’m sleepy and need some rest. Wouldn’t wanna leave me alone now, would you?”

“No, Daddy,” Peter whispers, voice already drowsy, and the pet name causes something to tighten in Tony’s chest, very close to his heart.

Sure, there have been plenty of times where Peter calls him Daddy in bed, or jokingly around the house when he needs something from his older boyfriend. But rarely does Peter use Daddy as an endearment, and Tony’s sure he’s never said it in public.

Neither of them are ashamed of the dynamic they have— far from it— but privacy is important to both of them, and public affection has never really been something Peter’s comfortable with.

But now, tonight— in the presence of their closest friends and colleagues— Peter feels safe and content being himself in Tony’s arms. Tony brushes back his bangs and places a lingering kiss there.

He’s never been someone’s safe place before.

He’s never been someone’s home.

#starker #ironspider #soft #tw alcohol #fluff #peter x tony #gift fic #my sweet pea #uhhh i forgot how to tag #peterparkerbingo2021 #sfsummerbingo21

[snowstark]

one way home.

For @peterparkerbingo | Fill: Free Space For @tonystarkbingo | Fill: Vulnerability

“I just really miss you, Mr. Stark. There are paintings of your face everywhere, and I just can’t seem to stop hurting. I bet you'd know what to do if your super secret identity was revealed to the whole world. I... I don't even know how to deal with everything that's happening, and May won't stop freaking out and everyone's staring at me like I'm not the same person I was yesterday.”

“...”

“I just wish you were here with me. I wish I could hold you one last time. I wish I could just see you, touch you, one last time.”

“...”

“I miss you, Mr. Stark. Tony. I'd do anything to bring you back.”

“Be careful what you wish for, Parker.”

“...Mr. Stark? Is that— you’re… here?”

“Not exactly. But close enough, little lamb.”

“...who are you?”

“Your Superior.”

#starker #ironspider #sim!tony #peterparkerbingo2021 #tsbmv #tonystarkbingomarkv #my moodboards #help idk where this came from #it was such a spontaneous edit i spent the past 1-2 hours working on this when i should've been doing smth else #but hey you know what. its SIMping sunday

[lemonpeter]

🧡Day 22: Reward🧡

+ @peterparkerbingo : Fr0ttage

I am sad 💕 that has nothing to do with the fic though lol I hope y’all enjoy 💕

Warnings: nff, fr0ttage, praise k!nk

***

“Trust me, honey, it’ll feel really good.” Tony gave Peter a grin, leaning back on the couch. He looked miraculously put-together despite his kiss-swollen lips and unzipped fly.

Peter, on the other hand, was visibly wrecked already.

Times like that really reminded him of his lack of experience. Tony managed to look composed no matter where they were in an activity and Peter was instantly a mess.

It was kind of hot.

“Okay, okay. I trust you.” The younger man moved to Tony again, standing between his legs.

“Perfect.” Tony immediately moved to undo and push down Peter’s jeans, boxers following just a moment later.

Peter kicked them off, face flushing. He felt incredibly exposed compared to the mostly-dressed Tony. But he liked it. Although he’d like to see more of his boyfriend’s skin.

To fix this, he leaned in more. His hands moved to push Tony’s dress pants down his hips while he kissed him.

The older man lifted his hips, allowing for him to slide the pants off without disconnecting their kiss.

His boxers followed quickly after and Peter found his way into his lap. The position was a bit difficult, but they made it work with a little adjustment and a lot of willpower.

Tony let Peter have his way for a few minutes longer, allowing for rough, unsure kisses and awkward grinding before he took charge again.

The older man gently held onto Peter’s cock, coaxing a soft whine out of him. “You trust me?” He asked, double checking.

“Yes,” Peter breathed.

The older man nodded, slicking his boyfriend’s cock with a generous amount of lube before carefully taking his own in the same hand. He experimented with the angle slightly, deciding that it was easiest to hold them both from the side. Then he began stroking, starting out slowly.

“Such a good boy,” Tony murmured as he moved his hand. “You’ve been so good. You haven’t acted up even though I know we haven’t been together as much as you’ve wanted. I wish I could have been here more.”

Peter took a shuddering breath, hips moving along with his boyfriend’s hand. He was so sensitive to any sort of touch, but being praised along with it drove him wild. He didn’t respond, just drinking in the words and loving the slide of Tony’s cock against his.

“This will only be the beginning, okay? I’ll take care of you. Because you’ve been so good for me.”

The intense sincerity in Tony’s voice made Peter whimper, thrusting faster into his boyfriend’s hand. “Thank you….”

“Of course, honey.” Tony sped up his hand, keeping up with the pace that Peter set. It was all for him, after all.

He brought the young man to the edge, working him through orgasm as he spilled over Tony’s fingers.

“Good job, baby,” he whispered, pressing a gentle to the spot just underneath his ear. “So good…”

#starker #peter parker #tony stark #tony x peter #tony stark x peter parker #my writing #peterparkerbingo2021

[starker-sorbet]

It was just a single mistyped number but in Peter's haste to contact his Aunt Peter found himself spilling his troubles to the stranger on the other end.

But the man on the other end was more than willing to help Peter through the issue he was dealing with. Peter never expected to talk to the other again yet one night when feeling particularly lonely Peter found himself texting the other man. And one conversation turned into another and another.

Until soon they fell into a comfortable relationship with the other, long distance though it was. Peter knew that Anthony worked at SI and with him starting his new job there today they planned to meet up for lunch to get to know each other in person.

But first he had to follow up on a sudden email with instructions to take some reports up to Tony Stark's office. So not only was Peter finally meeting Anthony but he also gets to see his childhood hero, and he couldn't be happier.

Wrong Number for @peterparkerbingo

bingo card below

#starker #peterparkerbingo2021 #wrong number #moodboard #my moodboard

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

Like You Want To Be Loved

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Explicit (E) Notes: This is my fic for my @starkerfestivals summer BINGO “body worship” square & my @peterparkerbingo “carry you to bed” square. This one is short and sweet, so - I hope you guys enjoy the cute little verse I created (that I’ll more than likely revisit soon!!). Here’s my bingo card (x & x)  - if you see something on there you might want written, shoot me a message!!! Word Count: 3K Warnings: There’s a tiny bit of smut in here, but it’s me writing, so when is that not the case? Summary:

By Friday, Peter was clingy in all the perfect ways – there wasn’t any physical need for release, just the underlying necessity of being close to one another. When Tony was cognizant enough, he made a warm bath and spent most of the morning showering Peter with kisses while the omega got them clean. For the rest of the day, they lingered on the couch, watching Netflix and alternating between making out languorously and eating the rest of the snacks they had in the house. By the end of the night, Peter was passed out against his shoulder, out like a light.

Though Tony attempted to rouse him, Peter was asleep and after such a long and tiring week, Tony couldn’t blame him. It took little effort to heft the sleeping omega into his arms, Peter snuggled into him without fail, his nose going right to Tony’s neck, the fingers of his right-hand lingering on the flatness of his belly.

Or: the one where Peter goes into heat after years of suppressant use and Tony is more than there for it.

Read on AO3 here.

It’d been a long week.

Halfway through Tony’s Monday morning lecture, Peter called with a heated panic laced through his voice. Earlier in the year, Tony convinced Peter to stop his suppressants. They’d been mated and married for more than two years. After spending so much time alone, learning how to love each other, it finally felt right to start sharing that love with others; especially those with the dark chocolate of Peter’s eyes and unruly curls coming from either one of them.

When he first met the omega, Tony never imagined wanting kids. Having such a young mate was more than enough. Upon first getting to know each other, Tony was finishing his fifth year of teaching, finding himself up for tenure already. Until Peter stumbled into his lab by accident, Tony wasn’t sure he’d ever take a mate. Adjusting to the upbeat lifestyle of being with someone so young took a while, but Tony soon found himself liking the extra time they spent out amongst the world. In his sappiest times, Tony would easily admit that he’d follow Peter anywhere – as long as the young omega was there, a good time was guaranteed to be had.

It was Peter who first brought up the idea of expanding their family. They were enjoying Tony’s winter break in the Parker’s small family cabin in upstate New York, sipping on Mama Stark’s cocoa recipe. Firewood was crackling, setting the perfect atmosphere for Peter to stutter out – “how do you feel about kids?” without any preamble.

Looking up from his place at Peter’s side on the couch, Tony stopped the rubbing motion over the sole of Peter’s foot. Despite being mated for a while, Tony still felt the need to always be touching his omega. Peter took advantage of that by throwing the random, achy body parts he wanted touched in Tony’s greedy hands – that night it was his right foot. Tilting his head at the thought, Tony snuggled into Peter’s side a bit more, sucking in a deep breath. “I think I might like one or two. Especially if they look like you,” Tony replied, leaning his head against Peter’s shoulder. Though the omega didn’t say anything, Tony felt a soft kiss to the top of his head – then Peter’s foot was pressing back into his hands in a less than subtle demand.

It didn’t take long for Peter to bring up the arduous process of coming off his stimulants. When they spoke to the doctor, she mentioned one to several months of the body working itself back into its natural state. For a while, Tony could tell Peter was miffed by the timeline. If his young omega got something in his head, there was no stopping Peter from getting what he wanted.

Of course, the omega was young and healthy, his body more than ready to step up to the plate and work a little biological magic. Tony was surprised when Peter was moaning on the other side of the line, frantically telling Tony to get home that very second. As awkward as it was to take the call in the middle of a lecture, Tony was seconds away from popping an ill-timed and completely pheromone driven erection. He stayed behind the podium as he less than subtly kicked everyone out.

The drive home was longer than ever before – five minutes felt like a lifetime when he recalled the breathy way Peter said his name, the way he mumbled ‘alpha’ into the phone so restlessly. Really, the simple fact that he had to drive home at all was a terrible inconvenience.

Keeping his briefcase on the seat, Tony tore his seatbelt off, practically running into the house with little thought. By the time he got to the front door, Tony could smell the intoxicating scent of Peter Parker-Stark in the midst of his heat. Thinking back to the weekend, Tony remember the little pre-heat signs – Peter’s nesting, the clingy way his mate stuck to his side seemingly every minute of both Saturday and Sunday. Tony momentarily felt foolish for not recognizing the signs. It’d been over two years since they spent a heat together and the signs were subtle.

Those thoughts were out the window the minute he walked through the door. Peter was sprawled across the couch; the flannel shirt Tony wore the day before the only stitch of clothing on his entire body. The usually chocolate-colored eyes were a rich gold, flaring the moment Peter recognized the addition of Tony’s scent. Though he didn’t move, Peter became all the more enticing.

Quickly stripping off the sweater he wore to teach that morning, Tony peeled the cashmere off his skin, following seamlessly by his pants, boxer briefs, socks and shoes. He was more naked than Peter before either could truly take a deep breath. Tony took his time making his way over to Peter then – his hand drifted down the center of his chest to wrap around the base of his cock, the view of Peter and the delicate mingling of their scents all the sudden overpowering. If he didn’t stroke his cock, Tony felt like he might spontaneously combust.

Tony allowed himself a handful of strokes before his hands became otherwise occupied with the smoothness of Peter’s skin. Finally, what felt like ages since he stepped in the door, Tony was close enough to reach out and touch, to feel the pulsating warmth of Peter’s heat humming just under the surface of his skin. The flannel parted just right to show off the omega’s interest; Peter’s cock was stiff, and a trickle of slick slid shamelessly down his right leg. As much as Tony wanted to dive into the cleft of Peter’s beautiful ass, the last place he wanted to spend his husband’s first heat since their mating was the living room couch.

With little prompting, Tony got Peter to wrap his muscled thighs around his hips – with so much testosterone and mating pheromones coursing through his veins, Tony had no problem carrying the young omega up the stairs. He tried to deposit Peter on the bed lightly, but the omega had other plans. Long arms wrapped around Tony’s neck, tugging until their lips were meeting in a scalding kiss.

Peter’s hands were everywhere, sliding down Tony’s back, in his hair, even up his sides and across the front of his chest. While his hands quested, Peter’s lips sipped at Tony’s, their tongues tangling wildly as adrenaline and that certain something that was completely them and their connection lingering in the air. Tony took his time enjoying Peter, here shortly, coherency would be the last thing on either of their minds.

Their hard cocks were grinding against each other with every movement, Peter was slick everywhere, making the move easy. Each time Tony felt Peter pick up his hips, Tony’s control over things slipped a little further. Before long, he broke their kiss to bury his nose into the side of Peter’s neck; Tony pressed kisses across Peter’s mating bite, taking the rich scent of iron and fire and sweetness with gasping breaths.

Tony forced himself away from the spot he could easily get attached too – sentimentally, so many memories resided in the scar that marred Peter’s skin. The fact that Tony smelt himself on Peter the most there only played into it somewhat (or a lot). Shaking his head of the thought, Tony trailed his lips further down the long length of Peter’s neck, across his shoulders, and down along shapely pecs. Each nipple was bathed with affection, Tony brought the delicate nub into his mouth, tonguing at it until the skin was pebbled, the peak warm in his mouth. Peter’s moans at every touch only worked to drive Tony on.

Further down Peter’s chest, Tony took his time tracing the outer rim of Peter’s belly button, the sides of his shirt parting after he fumbled with the buttons one by one. With both hands, Tony traced over Peter’s sides, his fingers tangling in the hair covering Peter’s belly. As he aged, the omega got a little furrier. Surprisingly, Tony liked the slowly thickening hair, it felt amazing under his fingertips. Tugging ever so slightly, Tony toyed with the softness of Peter’s skin until restless hips made themselves known.

Tony wasn’t about to spend time teasing either of them. With a quick move, Peter’s legs were spread, making room for Tony between them. Both his hands slipped between slick cheeks; Peter’s hole clenched in subconscious anticipation. Grinning at the sight, Tony wasted no time diving into the fragrant wetness. Peter’s looseness spoke of heat that was further along. Tony glanced up, suddenly proud of the man writhing above him. Heat colored eyes met his then, an easy grin on Peter’s lips. “Alpha,” Peter moaned, his eyes flashing.

Unable to stop himself after that, Tony dug in, nosing first at the gap of Peter’s cheeks and then further into the crevice, his lips barely kissing at Peter’s hole. A gush of slick slipped out onto his tongue, Peter’s hole clenching without any prompting. Tony felt his cock harden, in a few moments, Tony wouldn’t be able to enjoy the little details nearly as much. Conscious of that, Tony worked hard to make Peter whimper. His tongue and fingers worked until Peter was muttering ‘please’ and ‘Tony’ on a loop. Another couple of licks were all Tony was capable of before he climbed helplessly between Peter’s legs. He couldn’t resist the call any longer.

He grabbed at Peter’s thighs, picking them up until they were around his hips. With a quick move of his hips, Tony’s cock was pressed against the teasing wink of Peter’s hold – Tony knew the omega couldn’t even help it, not when need was slowly creeping in. Tony could tell, simply by breathing in, that the very worst was about to begin. The stirring of his knot had him ducking his head, pressing his lips against Peter’s with heat. “Ready?”

Peter’s answer was his hips lifting and the tilt of his head. Without having to move, the head of Tony’s cock slipped into tight heat, the drenched slide unlike anything the manufactured lube they normally used provided. Tony sunk into the hilt, his hips stopping his movement before Tony could himself. Peter tightened the grip of his thighs, keeping him there. For just a second, Peter ran his hands restlessly over Tony’s skin, mapping out the feel of it. That move, Peter’s recollection of everything Tony, was old hat. Every time they came together, Peter traced him like that – like he needed the tangible reminder of the way Tony felt under his touch. Sighing into the contact, Tony waited until those restless hands were buried into his hair, tugging lightly.

“Fuck me, Alpha. Please.”

Tony didn’t hesitate to comply – his hips were moving on their own accord, anyway. Wrapping his arms around Peter’s shoulders, Tony kept the omega close as he used his hips to satiate the fire that slowly burned along Peter’s existence. Every move was in sync, Peter rolled his hips to meet Tony’s thrusts – the easy motion kept each one deep, the tip of Tony’s cock enticingly brushing against Peter’s prostate; every move was expertly aimed. Little by little, Tony and Peter took each other apart, husbands, alpha and omega – moving together.

When the end came, Peter clung helplessly to Tony, his nails uselessly running over abused skin in an attempt to hold on. Peter was whimpering, every sound hitting Tony in the gut with the need to sooth them, to finally give his mate a knot and that sweet release Tony felt building up with every brush of his stomach against Peter’s cock. Leaning down to first nose of Peter’s bonding mark, then lip over the omega’s ear, Tony whisper lightly, his voice gravely.

“Cum for me, Pete. I’m so close to giving you my knot. I want to thrust in with that tight clench around me, to claim you again, omega.” Tony kept his words low, each one tangibly hitting Peter – the younger man’s skin pebbled under Tony’s touch. With another hard thrust, Tony felt Peter clamp down around him, Peter’s orgasm pulling Tony’s knot almost immediately. Biting down on the mark he placed all that time ago, Tony nuzzled into the spot, moaning “Pete” helplessly.

The rest of the week went a lot like that. There were increasingly more lucid moments where Peter asked for slow touches mixed into the desperate moments where Tony took his omega in a pheromone induced haze. Regardless of whether they were successful in creating a little life together, they gave it their all.

By Friday, Peter was clingy in all the perfect ways – there wasn’t any physical need for release, just the underlying necessity of being close to one another. When Tony was cognizant enough, he made a warm bath and spent most of the morning showering Peter with kisses while the omega got them clean. For the rest of the day, they lingered on the couch, watching Netflix and alternating between making out languorously and eating the rest of the snacks they had in the house. By the end of the night, Peter was passed out against his shoulder, out like a light.

Though Tony attempted to rouse him, Peter was asleep and after such a long and tiring week, Tony couldn’t blame him. It took little effort to heft the sleeping omega into his arms, Peter snuggled into him without fail, his nose going right to Tony’s neck, the fingers of his right-hand lingering on the flatness of his belly.

As Tony tucked Peter into bed, the young omega wrapped his hands around Tony’s neck, giving him a sleepy kiss. “I love you, Tony,” Peter mumbled, burying himself into the blankets. Smiling, Tony stripped out of his shirt and joined his husband on the bed. He slung his arm around Peter’s middle.

With a kiss to the back of the neck, Tony mumbled the words back, settling into all the spaces that were meant solely for him. Before falling back to sleep, Peter grabbed his hand, placing it on the warmth of his belly. Spreading his fingers, Tony pictured what their little peanut was going to look like, swelling the thinness of the beauty in his arms. His lips were stretched out into a grin when sleep found him.

#starker #sfsummerbingo21 #peterparkerbingo2021 #peter parker #peter parker/tony stark #bobbie writes #like you want to be loved