#starker fic reqs

[readysetstarker]

Can i req peter using the safeword and lots of aftercare? Maybe with edging or smth idk thanks lol

istg i must have a kink for peter crying bc he’s done it in all the fics i’ve posted so far. consider this an alternative to the ending of my previous starker request.

Warnings: adult peter, slight dom/sub, safe word use, peter has ptsd

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Peter couldn’t breathe. His chest burned and his throat clouded with dust. He could feel the sharp and jagged points of debris stab into the muscles of his back. Pain overwhelmed everything, and iron clung to his tongue and teeth. He watched blood drool from his mouth and into a puddle beneath him. It speckled on his mask sitting underneath the water’s surface.

He was trapped. He couldn’t breathe. His hands were restrained uselessly at his back and no matter how hard he kicked, the tons and tons of pressure on him didn’t seem to budge.

Peter’s breath escaped him in a panicked wheeze.

A voice echoed in his head, unintelligible but familiar. Peter clenched his eyes shut. He blocked out his vision and tried to focus on the words. It took some doing, but they broke through the panic clouding his mind: his name, repeated over and over, worry dripping off every syllable. There was more said around it, but all he could seem to focus on was his own name being cried out.

And the weight around him was gone now; no more concrete suffocating him into a hard and unforgiving floor. He sucked in air, blinking away stinging tears, and when his vision cleared there was no more blood and dust coating his tongue and no more concrete around him. He was in a bed with blankets clenched in his hands and hot tears pouring down his face.

Leather, sleek and black, wrapped around his wrists. Between them, a broken chain. He stared at the mattress. Each breath he took hurt but he swallowed them down anyways.

“Peter, answer me!” the voice begged, and it took him a few minutes to recognize who it belonged to, and whose hands were holding him where he lay shaking on the bed. “Peter, tell me where you are, right now. Can you hear me?”

Everything else came to him at once. Where he was, what he was doing, and who he was with. He buried his tearful face in the blankets in front of him.

“Infinity!” he cried out, voice muffled into the mattress. “Infinity, infinity, I can’t do it. I can’t, I’m sorry, I can’t.”

He’s scooped up from the mattress, arms wrapped tightly around him, and he’s pulled close against a warm chest. He can hear the heavy and hard heartbeat against his ear as fingers card softly and slowly through his hair. A lump in his throat choked him while Tony soothed him. His voice was softer now, praising and reassuring him, he realized.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Tony whispered into his hair. Peter realized he was being rocked, a gentle sway back and forth. “I’ve got you.”

That broke something in Peter. Guilt and disappointment washed over him, and his hands clamped hard over his mouth to smother the sobs he couldn’t suppress. The arms around him only grew tighter when they felt his shoulders shake.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered through the tightness in his throat. 

“Shh, you have nothing to be sorry for.” Tony’s lips pressed into his hair. “You did the right thing, honey. I’m glad you said it, okay? I’m so, so thankful you said it.”

Peter’s breath shook, a new cry tearing from his throat. Tony let him cry until he could stop himself and rubbed his arms until the shaking finally ceased. Peter came back to his senses slowly, registering the pain in his groin and the vibrator he remembered being inserted before they had started their play. It was lifeless now, nothing more than a nuisance to his frazzled nerves.

Tony spoke again when he stopped shaking.

“I’m gonna take everything off of you, okay?” he said slowly, hands giving Peter’s arm a gentle squeeze. “I’m going to take the shackles and ring off, and I’m going to remove the vibrator. Just lay back and tell me if anything hurts.”

All Peter could do was nod, and he let Tony lay him down onto the crumpled sheets behind him. He could feel a wet spot on the back of his neck where his face had previously been pressed, letting his eyes slip shut while Tony worked on removing the offending items. He hissed when Tony pulled the ring off and his knuckles brushed the sensitive shaft of his still-hard cock. 

Once everything was taken off of him, Peter sat up and reached for Tony, who pulled him close again, still taking to petting his hair once Peter’s head was tucked under his chin. 

“What was it?” Tony asked. His thumb traced the neat line of Peter’s hair at the nape of his neck. 

Peter swallowed his shame. “I couldn’t breathe.”

“Your throat wasn’t restricted. What caused the panic?”

Peter tapped a nervous finger against Tony’s arm. His stomach turned with guilt. Tony repeated his name.

“When you,” he started, and his voice cracked, “when you pressed me down. Into the mattress, in between you and it. I… I thought about Toomes, about our last fight, when he almost killed me. I was trapped under rubble, alone, and I almost died. I just couldn’t do it, I’m sorry.”

“No ‘sorry’s, baby.” Tony kissed his hair again. “You did exactly what you should have. Now, come on. I’ll have Friday run a bath for you. I think it’d be best if we just quit for tonight. What do you think?”

Peter nodded, nuzzling into Tony’s shoulder and smiling when he was promised his favorite movie after he had finished bathing.

#starker #ironspider #peter parker x tony stark #my work #Anonymous