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babybatscreationsv2 · 2 years

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The Scent of His Cologne Ch1

Marvel | Starker

When Peter was twelve years old he ran away from home. If only he would have known that he wouldn't see his father again for eight years. Now he's broke, living in an apartment the size of a closet and working three jobs to get by. When he meets a handsome stranger at his weekend job he thinks his luck might finally be starting to turn.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings below the cut

Warnings and tags: incest/incest kink, daddy kink, prostitution, mafia au, violence, murder, torture, hurt/comfort, angst but with an eventual happy ending

It was raining. He had been standing there, in the alley, for so long that the rain had soaked through his clothes, but that wasn't the reason he trembled.

Peter Stark, first and only son of The Tony Stark, had run away. Now it was time to face him.

He'd only been gone a few days. He had taken a couple hundred in cash and grabbed a hotel room under a fake name. It had been surprisingly difficult to find someone who was willing to take a bribe over the ID he didn't have. He was only twelve after all. Not old enough to get a hotel room. Even if everyone told him he looked older. Uncle Obediah said they were just flattering him. He said he looked like a baby chipmunk.

The back door to his father's 'totally legitimate' club swung open. Peter quickly turned away and looked for somewhere to hide. He wasn't ready after all.

"Peter," Obediah said. His voice sounded sad.

Peter slowly turned around.

Obediah sighed. "I hoped you wouldn't come home."

Peter shivered. "What... what do you mean?"

Obediah looked at him with pity. "Come see for yourself."

Peter let his uncle guide him into the building. He followed him through the halls which seemed to thump and throb in time with the house music on the other side. They stopped at the open door to the back room where Tony played cards with his friends. His heart fluttered at the sight of his father. He'd missed him so much. All he wanted was to be wrapped in his arms. He needed to hear his voice. He needed to hear him say that it was alright and he forgave him.

That's not what happened.

A boy about Peter's age with neat blond hair stood in front of Tony. He was smiling. Something no one but Peter ever did when they talked to the man. No one had the balls to look at that unforgiving smirk and smile.

Then Tony laughed. Head tossed back, eyes squeezed shut, laughed. Peter's stomach hurt.

Obediah squeezed his shoulder. "He's replaced you, kiddo. The minute you were gone he had another boy already lined up. They just got back from the shooting range."

"You mean-" Peter swallowed. His eyes burned and he ground his teeth to fight back the tears. "He wasn't looking for me?"

Obediah shrugged. "He sent Miller out after you."

Peter swayed, unsteady on his feet. Miller wasn't even a member yet. He wasn't one of the family. He wasn't ever going to be judging by how incompetent he was. Obediah righted him with both hands on his shoulders. "I didn't want you to have to see this. I understand now why you left. Some part of you must have known..."

"Known what?" He was cracking. So close to breaking as he watched his father stand and pat the other boy on the shoulder.

"Your father- well he likes your attention, Peter, but you're as replaceable as the partners he takes to bed. He can't help it really. It's just who he is. I know it must be hard, being his son, but the way he talks about you..." Obediah tisked. "You shouldn't have come back."

Peter took a step back. He couldn't catch his breath. How could have gotten it so wrong? He thought for sure if he ran away his father would go crazy with worry. He'd hunt him down non stop. He wouldn't sleep. All he wanted was his attention. Proof that Tony cared about him despite always being so busy with work. Peter had thought maybe he'd just hidden himself too well, but the truth was that Tony had never tried to find him. He had come home afraid of his anger, but certain he would be relieved to see him. He clearly didn't care that he was gone. He was happy that he was gone.

"What do I do?" Peter sobbed.

Obediah looked down at him as one might a dead frog on their doorstep. "Here, kid. This was for poker night, but you need it more than I do. Just don't come back this time. My heart can't bare it." He handed Peter an unsealed envelope. It was stuffed full of cash.

Peter held it in his hands. He looked at his father. He had his arm around the boy's shoulders and was leading him from the room. Peter turned away and ran.

...

The small of freshly roasted coffee greeted Peter as he entered the cafe. He threw his wallet and keys in the locker and grabbed his apron off the hook. He yawned and stretched his arms high above his head. His back cracked and he couldn't help but smile. Finally. He'd been trying to get that spot to pop for days.

Gwen greeted him with a grumpy scowl as he came out from the back.

"Good morning, sunshine," he laughed.

"Shut your whore mouth," she grumbled.

"Careful. You'll upset Mrs. Brown." Peter smiled and waved at the gray-haired old widow who sat in her usual spot by the window. She had her coffee, but she only liked the omelets the way Peter made them so he got to work making her breakfast.

"I don't get why you're always so happy."

Peter shrugged. "When I'm not here I'm under seven blankets, reliving my childhood trauma."

Gwen rolled her eyes. "Yeah well, I was promised I wouldn't have to work on weekends but your bestie took off with her boyfriend to get smashed on spring break."

"Ned isn't MJ's boyfriend, they grew up together."

"And if she was smart she would bag him before he gets that Oscorp job." Gwen pouted again. "I wanted that job."

"It's a minority position, Gwen."

"I know, I know. I'm not against it. They wouldn't hire me because of my record anyway."

Peter sighed. The criminal record that was his fault and that also haunted him as he hid underneath seven blankets. "I'm really sorry, Gwen."

She shrugged, but she wouldn't look at him. "It was worth it to get you out of trouble."

"And I'll keep trying to make it up to you."

She softened. "You don't have to."

"But I'm gonna." Peter grabbed Mrs. Brown's still steaming omelet and carried it over to the table. It seemed to take her a second too long to realize he was there. "Here you are. How's the coffee this morning, ma'am?"

She smiled. "Peter. It's lovely, thank you. And you're always so fast with my breakfast. Looks delicious, dear."

"Let me know if I can do anything else for you."

"Well I was looking for someone to help me rearrange my furniture this evening."

Peter grimaced. "Sorry, Mrs. Brown. I actually work a second job on Saturday nights. How about on Monday?"

"Alright. Monday then. Thank you, Peter." She smiled sweetly and patted the back of his hand where it rested on the table.

"You're too nice," Gwen scolded as he returned. "Stop letting people walk all over you."

"I know how to set a boundary when I need to," he shrugged. "It's just that Mrs. Brown doesn't have anyone. She's all alone."

Gwen frowned.

"What?"

"Is that how you feel, Peter?"

He wondered if she was right as he finished his shift. Loneliness was something he didn't think about. It hurt too much. Besides, how could he be lonely when he was never alone? His days were spent at the coffee shop among coworkers and their many customers. Evenings were spent at the only club in town that wasn't owned by the mafia: The Penthouse.

Despite its name, The Penthouse was a one-story building, if you didn't count the basement. The back door was guarded during business hours. Flash Thompson of all people was on the door today. Peter ignored whatever insult Flash threw at him as he let himself in. He was feeling down after what Gwen said and he wasn't going to let Flash make it worse. Despite Flash's bullying he'd have his back if someone tried to kidnap him on his way out the door. He'd already chased a guy off for him once. He was a jerk, but he had a good heart and Peter figured that was what really mattered.

In the dressing room the gossip was abuzz. Peter laughed and nodded as was expected of him, but his heart wasn't in it. He was lonely. He was.

He looked at his face in the mirror. He'd covered it in silver dust that would sparkle under the stage lights. There was no time to cry about it. He had rent to pay. He couldn't bear living with a roommate and in this city that meant work two jobs or starve. Sometimes three.

Peter covered the rest of his bare skin in glitter. Then he went out to take the stage.

The Penthouse was the regarded as the best gay strip club in town. Or at least Peter regarded it that way. The boss wasn't too sleazy and he kept the pimps and drug dealers out. The one time a trafficker showed up Bruce chased him off with a Glock. They were kept safe and the pay was fair. Plus they got to pick their own music and that was way better than dancing to the Pussycat Dolls every night of the week.

Peter recognized his regulars in the crowd. He spent some time on stage getting them warmed up before he hopped down to work the crowd. A dozen laps and a whole lot of sweat later, he didn't have enough money for the month. Peter sighed as he counted it out. He'd been trying to start a savings account for so long and he still didn't have anything to put in it.The Penthouse was the best thing that had ever happened to him. It was how he made ends meet. Even if that meant his whole weekend would be spent bone tired and grinding on married men. So long as the music made it impossible to think, he was golden.

The next night, The Penthouse was unusually packed. The boys in the dressing room all whispered rumors wondering what it was about. A CEO's birthday, the mafia come to take their club, a bachelor party? No one knew. Even the boss hadn't expected them. But when the music started and they started passing out big bills no one had any more complaints. It was amazing what a thong full of fifties could do.

Peter worked the pole, grinding and twisting. The men around his stage seemed to like his innocent coy act so he put it on. He looked just over his shoulder, fluttering his eyes, and when he came to take their cash he tucked his head down shyly. He took a water break and came back out to the floor. The lights were dimmer today. It was hard to see faces, but even low light caught the glimmer of jewelry and one man was decked out. His watch alone looked worth what Peter made in a month and he had a ring on every finger except the one that mattered. Peter licked his lips and crossed the floor to make his move.

"Lookin' for a dance, handsome?"

The man smiled. His eyes were all shadow, but Peter could see the gray flecks in an otherwise dark beard. He couldn't help it if it tickled his daddy issues.

The man held up a hundred dollar bill. "Show daddy what you got, sweetheart."

Peter's stomach fluttered. That had to be the hardest lap dance of his life. He was too turned on and it made him clumsy, but the man didn't seem to care. When Peter sat full on his lap and started grinding on his dick he passed him a bound stack of cash.

His deep voice purred against his neck. "Why don't you show me to the basement, beautiful? I have three more of those for you."

Peter almost moaned. This man had insane money and was hot as hell and he wanted to fuck him. He didn't think twice.

"Yes, sir." Peter slipped off of his lap and took his hand. It was hard not to pull him along at a sprint, but he had to keep the tension up, keep it sultry and enticing.

He pushed open one magenta painted door. The lighting was just as terrible here. The lights in the ceiling were all pink and they cast deep shadows everywhere. Perfect for privacy and setting the mood, but Peter did want to see this man's face. Then again, there was no way that he was as gorgeous as Peter was imagining.

A lot of clients preferred not to kiss him, but this guy took no issue with it. His mouth was on his the moment he turned around, kissing him so deeply that his legs felt weak, but a strong arm held him up.

His legs hit the bed and he was laid back onto it. The client leaned over him. Peter's head was hazy with the press of his lips and the smell of his cologne. All he could do was moan and arch into his touch. He kept telling himself that he needed to focus. He needed to take care of the client, but those hands felt so good on his bare skin, spreading apart his thighs, touching his hard cock through his g-string.

"Look at you melting," he purred with amusement. Peter licked his lips as he pulled back. His hand palmed his cock and Peter whimpered. "You're perfect."

Peter gasped, the words hitting just a little too hard. He needed it. He needed to be perfect for him. He'd do anything for it.

"What's your name?" Peter asked.

"Just call me daddy."

Peter bit down on his lip. This guy was gonna make him cum way too fast. He pulled him into a lingering kiss before crawling out from under him. He went to the nightstand where a basket of lube and condoms waited. As he turned back he caught sight of "Daddy" sliding off his jacket. He watched intently as he rolled up both of his sleeves.

"Bring that here, sweetheart," he called. Peter shivered. He wasn't supposed to get this affected by the clients. He didn't hate the sex typically, but it was more just part of the job. In all fairness, the guy was practically romancing him with how he pressed him into the bed and kissed him as he slipped the condom on.

Peter's legs were spread, wide, begging. His g-string tossed aside. Daddy took the invitation to squeeze himself inside. He was big too. Not so bad it hurt, but just the right size that Peter was helpless to put on any sort of performance.

"You're such a pretty little thing aren't you?" Daddy purred. "Listen to you whimpering."

Peter blushed. He usually toned down his whining. Sometimes clients complained. Daddy kissed his neck and he gasped. He reached up and put his hands on his shoulders.

"Daddy," he moaned.

"Is that the spot, baby?" He rolled his hips, nudging at that spot Peter barely remembered existed at this point. Was he really getting paid for something that felt this good?

"Yes, daddy please."

Daddy kissed him again. "You're so sweet. I'll have to come back for more of this. A man could get addicted to a pretty thing like you."

Peter whined and daddy pushed in deeper, filling him up until he groaned and his nails dug into his back. He was so big and when he moved, oh god, when he fucked him- he never wanted it to end. All he could was hang on and stare up at that shadowy face. He could make out a beard, dark eyes maybe, some gray in his hair. He could have been his father. It made him feel guilty, but the thought of being fucked as if his dad actually wanted him, as if he cared about him.

"Can you cum for me, sweetheart? I want to hear you."

Peter slid his hand down between them. He was pretty close already. He wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked it while daddy fucked him stupid.

"That's it. You sound so pretty, baby. Cum for me."

Nails biting into his shoulder, screaming up at the ceiling, Peter came. Daddy kissed his neck and a moment later he was cumming too.

He would have gotten himself a condom if he'd known he was going to end up cumming like that. He'd made a mess of the poor guy's shirt, and after he'd fucked him so good too. He tried to apologize but daddy just laughed.

"It's a compliment, baby. Don't worry about it." He cleaned himself up with a towel and came back with another one for Peter. He took it from him quickly before he could make this encounter any more intimate.

Daddy picked up his discarded jacket from the end of the bed. Peter caught the gleam of a gun in the low light. Then he took out another three big bands of cash as promised. He set the money on the bed next to Peter. Then he bent down for a last kiss that made his stomach flutter.

"Thank you," he said.

"Any time," Peter stuttered. This guy was unreal. It almost made him jealous to think he was this sweet to the other guys, but he snapped himself out of it real quick. One good fuck was no reason to go getting all heart-eyed.

Peter picked up the money as daddy left the room. Each was a full band of hundred dollar bills. He flipped through the bills searching for some kind of trick, but no. They were all hundreds. He grabbed his g-string and all but ran back out to the floor. He ran around the bar and grabbed the pen beside the cash register.

"Everything okay, Peter?" said the bartender who's name was also Peter, but he was older and taller with a sort of goofy smile.

"Yeah, yeah just uh-" Peter swiped the pen across the bills. He twisted and turned them in his hand checking over every inch. He couldn't find a single fake. Not one. They were either legit or really well made. He looked up at the room. A couple of guys at the bar were staring, but daddy was long gone. He looked at the other Peter. The other Peter looked at the four full bands in Peter's hands.

Forty-grand. He just got paid 40-grand.

#marvel #starker #inc*st #mafia au #au fic #hurt/comfort #tshc

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joyful-soul-collector · 4 years

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Blanket Forts and Midnight Stories

By @joyful-soul-collector for @marvels-blue-phoenix

Rating: Teen and Up (for swearing)

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, DUM-E

Summary: This is my gift for the Friendly Neighborhood Exchange! I combined two of the prompts given to me: "The two are stuck inside on a rainy day so they make a blanket fort and watch movies, falling asleep inside of it", and "Peter has a nightmare so Tony reads to him to get him back to sleep".

Thank you @friendly-neighborhood-exchange for planning this event! The story is under the cut, or you can read it on ao3

Tony was reading on the couch when Peter nearly fell flat on his face as he hopped on one foot into the living room that morning, trying his hardest to pull on a sock.

“Mr. Stark--ack--Mr. Stark I’m so sorry I woke up late, my alarm didn’t go off--”

“Woah hey, Pete, calm down,” Tony said with a laugh, putting down his book and turning in his seat to face him. Peter had on a wrinkled pair of jeans that Tony was fairly certain were the same ones he'd worn yesterday, had somehow put his shirt on backwards as well as inside out, and was sporting such ridiculous bedhead that it reminded Tony of a mad scientist. This of course wasn’t helped by the fact that he was still struggling to put on one of his socks.

“I think the park should be open but--jesus, c’mon stupid sock--I dunno if we’ll have time to go on all the rides and still play games now--”

“Pete have you not looked out the window yet?” Tony interrupted with a frown.

“Huh?” Peter said. Tony felt his heart squeeze a little when Peter glanced out to see an abysmally grey sky, the city of New York seemingly warped by the constant torrent of rain upon the windows of Stark Tower. His entire body seemed to droop sadly at the sight, even his spiky bedhead looking much more miserable than before.

“Oh,” he said quietly, and Tony gave a sympathetic chuckle.

“Sorry bud. No Tornado of Death Ride today,” Tony said.

“Hurricane of Death Ride, Mr. Stark,” Peter muttered, flopping down on the couch next to Tony.

“Hurricane, Tornado, they’re both winds that go in a circle,” Tony said. “Besides, any ride with the phrase ‘of Death’ in it, automatically sounds super cheesy. I could come up with a better name for it, and that’s not even my job.”

Peter replied with a noncommittal “hmm”, and Tony looked up at him. Peter was frowning at his knees, slumped against the couch so that his chin rested on his chest and his arms laid limply on his legs. He seemed to be more upset about this than Tony had thought he would be.

“You know we can always go another time, right kid?” Tony said.

“Yeah, I know,” Peter said with a sigh.

“So what’s bothering you?” Tony prompted.

“I--I dunno, I was just really looking forward to this. I mean with all my homework piling up since the school year is ending I haven’t been able to come over here for weeks, and I just--” Peter cut himself off, instead gesturing angrily at the window. Tony put his arm around Peter’s shoulders as he gathered his thoughts.

“I just wanted to spend the weekend with you. I miss you a lot,” he said quietly, snuggling a little closer to Tony’s side.

“Aw Pete,” Tony said, rubbing his arm comfortingly and pulling Peter so his head laid against Tony’s shoulder. “I’ve missed you too. I’m sorry we can’t go to the park today.”

“Yeah,” Peter said.

“You’ve been really stressed about school lately, haven’t you?” Tony said, remembering how dark the circles were under Peter’s eyes when he arrived at the tower yesterday. Karen had said he was still doing his patrols after completing his homework (as his aunt had forbidden him from putting Spider-Man before his education), but his energy levels were more depleted than normal, resulting in him being almost constantly delirious with exhaustion.

“Yeah. It’s just really hard,” Peter said. “Especially this week. I did extra work every day that way I wouldn’t have to do it while I was here.”

“You did? Oh kid, you didn’t need to do that,” Tony said.

“I didn’t want to stress about it while we were at the park. And I was worried you or Aunt May wouldn’t let me come over if I still had homework to do and I didn’t wanna have to cancel another weekend with you,” Peter said, ducking his head slightly but still pressing his face against Tony’s shoulder.

“Oh gosh, Pete no, of course I would’ve let you come over. And I know for a fact your Aunt wouldn’t have cared either, she can tell school’s been taking a toll on you,” Tony said. “In fact she was the one who suggested I take you to the park. She wanted you to get a break.”

“Oh,” Peter said. “Well I guess I didn’t need to pull those all-nighters.”

“Did you just say all-nighters? Plural?”

“Ummmmm… yeah?” Peter said innocently, and Tony guessed he hadn’t meant to say that.

“Oh Peter,” Tony said, now wrapping both arms around him and pressing a kiss to his hair. “When was this? How long did you stay up kid?”

“Um… I woke up Wednesday morning, and I went to sleep again, uh… last night.” Peter said the last two words in barely above a whisper, and Tony felt him tense up next to him.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, only releasing a heavy sigh and turning so he could properly hug Peter, his arms wrapped tight around him while Peter’s head rested on his chest. Peter relaxed, returning the hug eagerly.

“Well. Now I’m almost glad we can’t go to the park today,” Tony said.

“Huh? Why?” Peter asked, his voice muffled slightly by Tony’s shirt.

“Because roller coasters aren’t the kind of break you need. What you need is a calm, restful break. Get your energy back,” Tony said. “I’m thinking breakfast first, and then we do something like play a boardgame, or watch a movie.”

“Blanket fort?” Peter said hopefully.

“Blanket fort, huh? That might just be the perfect thing for you today,” Tony said with a grin. He released Peter and they both stood up. “How bout you get changed back into pajamas while I make you and I some breakfast? Ya hungry?”

Peter gave a shrug, pushing his hands into his pockets and glancing sadly out the window again before he spoke.

“Not really. I haven’t had much of an appetite lately, been too stressed out,” he said. Tony gave him a sympathetic smile and ruffled his hair as he made his way towards the kitchen.

“Ya gotta eat, kiddo, that’s probably part of the reason you’ve felt so tired recently. That and of course staying awake for three days straight. I’ll make you somethin’ with lots of protein: Eggs, bacon, sausages, all the good stuff.” Tony glanced back long enough to see Peter’s eyes light up and his tongue poke out to lick his lips.

“Just as long as you don’t make me drink one of those weird protein shakes Aunt May has sometimes,” Peter said, wrinkling his nose at the thought.

“I won’t make you as long as you don’t come back out looking like an eighty-year-old blind monkey dressed you,” Tony said, gesturing to Peter’s clothes. Peter frowned defensively, but upon seeing his backwards and inside out shirt he burst into laughter. Tony grinned at him, feeling a soft warmth grow in his chest at the sound.

“You go get changed, Spiderling,” he said. “When you get back we’ll get you fed and then we’ll start on that blanket fort. Sound good?”

Peter grinned and nodded, then walked back to his room while Tony started breakfast.

~~~

Peter scarfed down his food eagerly when Tony set it on the table, finishing his plate before Tony was even halfway through his own.

“Jeez kid, did you chew any of that? I swear you’re like some kinda vacuum,” Tony said, his eyebrows raised. Peter laughed and leaned back in his chair.

“I just didn’t realize how hungry I was until you started talking about food!” he said. Tony snorted.

“Well if you want more there’s some bacon still in the pan,” he offered.

“Nah I’m full now. Thanks for making me breakfast, it was amazing,” Peter said as he cleared his plate.

“Heh, no problem kid, that’s what I’m here for,” Tony said. Peter put his dishes in the sink, but rather than coming back to the table, he started walking out towards the bedrooms.

“Now where the heck are you goin’?” Tony called to him, a frown forming on his face. Peter whirled around then jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards the bedrooms.

“Supplies! Can’t build a blanket fort without the blankets!” he said.

“Ah, yes, of course, how silly of me to assume that we’d wait until everyone was done with breakfast,” Tony said with a lighthearted roll of the eyes. “And by everyone I mean me. I’m everyone.”

“Well hurry up then, everyone! We’ve still got movies to watch, we haven’t got all day!” Peter said before darting into one of the rooms. Tony laughed and quickly finished his breakfast before heading towards the hallway.

But before he could step a foot into it, an impossible mass of blankets and pillows blocked his way, almost knocking him over.

“What the--Jesus, Peter do we really need this much!?” Tony said, stumbling backwards and out of the way. Tony could barely see Peter under the pile, and even then it was just his legs. “I didn’t even know we had so many blankets.”

“Me either! Isn’t it awesome!?” Peter said, his voice muffled heavily by the mountain of fabric. “This is gonna be the best blanket fort ever!”

Tony laughed and followed Peter (or rather, the walking blanket mound), back to the living room. Together they spent the next half hour or so dragging chairs into the living room, draping sheets and blankets so they laid just right, and arranging pillows to weigh down the blankets so the fort didn’t cave in.

There were still plenty of “supplies”, as Peter called them, when they’d finished the structure of the fort, so they both dragged what was left of the blanket mountain inside their shelter and spread the soft fabric over the entire floor. By the time they finished, Tony could compare it to sitting inside a colorful cloud.

They both laid against a pile of pillows they’d fashioned into some sort of lumpy backrest and gazed around. It was a rather large space, big enough for both Peter and Tony to stretch their legs fully in front of them. But as Tony adjusted to sit up straight, his head touched the ceiling and fabric obscured his view.

“Yeah, that’s always a problem with blanket forts,” Peter said as Tony quickly bent down again to avoid disturbing the delicate structure of the fort. “The ceiling always bows in the middle. I’ve heard of some people propping up a stick in the center but then we run the risk of it getting knocked over and taking the whole fort down with it.”

“You sure are an expert on blanket forts,” Tony said, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, me ‘n Uncle Ben used to make them together all the time. We’d watch youtube videos and try and make the coolest blanket fort we could find. It was the best,” Peter said with a bit of a sad smile. Tony returned the grin and ruffled his hair affectionately before kissing his head.

“Well I sure as hell am not gonna be able to stand the saggy ceiling situation,” he said. “So you’re lucky you’re building a fort with a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, because I have an idea that’s gonna blow your mind.”

“Oh really?” Peter said as they crawled out of the fort.

“Yes, really, and you can keep your skepticism to yourself young man, I’ll have you know I have also made a blanket fort before,” Tony said.

“Uh-huh. Says the dude who tried to use the thickest blanket for the roof,” Peter said with a roll of his eyes. “Everyone knows you use the thin blankets and sheets for the top and all the thick blankets are used for the inside, Mr. Stark.”

“Yeah yeah whatever. You go grab some snacks and set up the movie while I grab the mindblowing, cosmically amazing invention that’s going to solve all our problems,” Tony said, walking to the elevator and punching in the code for the lab.

“Alright, but since I’m the one getting the snacks, that means I get to have all the junk food I want!” Peter called over his shoulder as Tony stepped into the elevator.

“What? What messed up dimension did you pull that logic from?!” Tony said as Peter disappeared around the corner.

“Friday close the elevator doors!” Peter shouted from the kitchen.

“Wh--PETER--” But the doors closed before Tony could continue. He laughed to himself as the elevator made its way to the lab.

~~~

Peter’s face when he saw Tony leading DUM-E out of the elevator was priceless. He’d just poked his head out of the fort at the sound of the elevator dinging, and Tony relished in the surprise and excitement on his face.

“Told you I had a great idea,” Tony said with a smirk. Peter laughed and crawled fully out of the fort.

“I’ll never doubt you again Mr. Stark,” he said.

“Better not--Oi! Quit messin’ with that DUM-E, I’ve got a job for you,” Tony said, clapping to get the robot’s attention away from Tony’s book still lying on the couch. DUM-E turned around and whirred curiously. “Right, yes you, dork, I need you to pinch the fabric of the blankets right here--” Tony reached over and pointed to an area in the center of the roof of the fort “--and pull up slowly. You got that? Slowly, don't yank at it. And then, when I tell you, stop.”

DUM-E whirred and made a nodding motion with his claw. He hovered over the area that Tony had indicated before pinching the fabric in his claw and slowly pulling up. He froze immediately when Tony told him to, and after a few adjustments, the fort was finally complete.

“Good boy. Nice job DUM-E,” Tony said. DUM-E beeped happily at the praise, still staying perfectly still.

“Will he get tired doing that the whole time?” Peter asked, looking a little concerned.

“He’s a robot Peter, unlike you, he can stay up for three days straight no problem,” Tony said. Peter snorted.

“Fair enough,” he said. Then he crawled under the fort, and Tony followed after giving DUM-E a pat on his long mechanical arm.

The ceiling problem was definitely fixed, Tony could now sit up straight and see the TV with no difficulty, however that victory was slightly overshadowed by what else he saw inside.

It seems Peter hadn’t taken some snacks, instead going for all of them. Several bags of chips, at least three containers of cookies, and somewhere around five boxes of pop tarts were scattered about the fort. Peter was munching on a bag of Cheetos, his fingers already orange with the cheese dust.

“Jesus kid, are you stocking up for winter or something?” Tony said, still staring wide-eyed at all the food.

“I’m a growing boy Mr. Stark! Besides, you were the one who said I had to eat more,” Peter said, pointedly popping a Cheeto in his mouth.

“Well I kinda meant something healthy,” Tony muttered crawling to sit next to him. “But I’ll make an exception for today. Just don’t make yourself sick.”

“Whaaaat, I’ve never done that in my life, you must be thinking of some other kid,” Peter said, handing him a box of cinnamon pop tarts. Tony rolled his eyes and took one of the shiny packets.

“Oh yes, how silly of me. What’re we watchin’?”

“Star Wars.”

“Again?”

“Is that alright? It’s just, I’m still kinda tired and I’m not sure I can pay attention to anything new right now, but if you want we can--”

“No no, it’s fine kiddo. I’m happy to watch Star Wars with you,” Tony said with a small laugh. Peter grinned then grabbed the remote and pressed play. Tony wrapped his arm around Peter’s shoulders and Peter snuggled into his side, still crunching on chips as the words A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away… appeared on the screen.

Soon, one movie turned into two, and then three, then four. To be honest, Tony wasn’t sure how many they’d watched when Peter fell asleep, all he knew was when the credits started rolling on the final movie, Peter didn’t immediately jump up to put in the next DVD like he’d done every other time.

Tony looked down to see Peter sleeping soundly against his side, empty snack wrappers and bags littered next to him. Tony checked his watch.

It was only eight o’clock.

“Well I guess you really were tired, huh little spider?” Tony whispered. Peter still had dark circles under his eyes, though they weren’t quite as bad as yesterday. Tony gave him a kiss on the head before carefully untangling himself and laying Peter’s head on a soft pillow. He spent a couple minutes throwing out all the snack wrappers and putting away all the food they didn’t end up eating, before crawling back into the fort and pulling one of the heavier blankets over Peter’s sleeping form. Then he laid down next to him, and laughed softly when Peter squirmed closer to him in his sleep.

“Sleep good kid,” Tony whispered.

~~~

Tony didn’t think he’d been sleeping for very long when he woke up. At first he wasn’t actually sure why he’d woken up, until he heard the sound of whimpering. Cries that sounded a lot like Peter’s.

“H-help…”

“Peter?”

“Help… help I’m stuck…” Tony’s heart sank instantly.

“Peter! Peter wake up!” Tony said, his voice croaking from sleep.

“Help, help I can’t breathe--I can’t breathe!” Peter said, twisting in his sleep as his voice rose to a shout.

“Peter!” Tony grabbed his shoulder and his eyes snapped open, shining with fear and tears. He stared for a moment before suddenly pulling himself close to Tony’s chest and burying his face into Tony’s shirt.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright Pete, you’re safe, I promise,” Tony said, wrapping his arms around him and stroking his hair. Peter’s breathing eased after a few more minutes of reassurance, and Tony could feel his muscles relaxing under his arms.

“I--I’m sorry I woke you up,” Peter said, his voice trembling slightly.

“No, you don’t need to apologize kiddo, it’s not your fault,” Tony said. “You think you can go back to sleep now?”

Peter didn’t answer for a moment.

“I… I’m scared. I don’t want to, can we just get up now? We could watch another movie…”

Tony sighed and looked at his watch.

“Peter it’s two am. You’ve only been asleep four hours. You stayed awake for three days kiddo, I’m not letting you get any less than twelve hours tonight,” Tony said. Peter bit his lip and looked down, trying to hide the misery on his face. Tony started to wrack his brain for ideas on how to help him when a high whistling noise startled them both.

The ceiling of the fort suddenly dropped, bowing inwards again and Peter flinched hard, like he’d been punched.

“You alright?” Tony said, looking down at him in surprise.

“I--I thought the ceiling was gonna fall on me,” he mumbled, and even in the darkness Tony could see an embarrassed blush rising in his cheeks. Tony felt anger flare inside him and he released Peter, pushing himself up.

“Dammit DUM-E,” he muttered. He could hear the robot wheeling around noisily outside the fort. Tony crawled out and stood up, his fists clenched and his lips pulled in a snarl.

DUM-E was by the couch, struggling to pick up the book Tony had been reading this morning and whistling in frustration.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Tony said as loudly as he could while still keeping his voice at a whisper. DUM-E just kept grasping at the book, ignoring him. Tony stepped forward and snatched up the book. It was Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.

Peter had been trying to get him to read the series for months and since Tony hadn’t been able to see much of his intern lately, he decided to give it a try. He’d told Peter it was just to get him off his back about it but really, he’d just missed having his Spiderling around. He ended up loving it though, and he was almost done with the third book.

“What do you want with this!?” Tony said, holding out the book and shaking it at him. “It’s a book DUM-E, you can’t even read!”

The robot whirred impatiently and turned to face Tony. He reached forward and poked the book with his claw, then pointed directly at the fort.

“…I have no clue what the hell that means.”

DUM-E made a noise that could’ve been a sigh if he had lungs. He jabbed at the book again, then this time at Tony’s chest, then insistently at the fort again.

“Ugh, I don’t have time for this,” Tony muttered, but DUM-E whistled angrily and suddenly wheeled off in the direction of the bedrooms. “Now what’re you doing!?”

The robot only whistled again and went into one of the rooms. Tony waited for a second before growing impatient and starting back to the fort, deciding to berate him for scaring Peter in the morning. But just as he kneeled down, Tony heard DUM-E whirr indignantly before something soft smacked him in the face.

“What the--” Tony held up the cloth that’d hit him, and instantly recognized Peter’s mask. DUM-E prodded the book, then the mask.

Tony suddenly understood.

“Oh. I see. That’s… actually a really good idea. Thank you. Sorry I got mad buddy,” Tony said. He patted the robot’s claw apologetically, and DUM-E forgave him easily with a wave, then turned and pinched the fabric of the fort again, pulling it up back into its original position.

Tony went back into the fort, feeling guilt at both snapping at DUM-E, but also for leaving Peter alone. Peter had sat up and was hugging a pillow, his eyes still glistening with tears.

“Hey kiddo,” Tony said. “Not feeling any better?”

Peter opened his mouth, but words seemed to fail him so he shook his head instead.

“Well, DUM-E had the idea that I should read to you. To help you fall asleep. So, how do you feel about The Prisoner of Azkaban?”

Peter’s face actually lit up at that, and he wiped the tears out of his eyes quickly.

“That--That’s my favorite one actually,” he said with a small sniff.

“Is it now?”

“Yeah. I like Professor Lupin. He reminds me of you. Like how he helped Harry when he got attacked by the dementor, and taught him magic so he could protect himself. That’s like how you give me hugs when I’m sad or scared, and you tell me to sleep more and stuff.”

“Huh. I guess that’d make you The Boy Who Lived, huh?”

“Well, I am really good at barely avoiding death,” Peter said. Tony laughed softly.

“I suppose since it’s your favorite, we should start from the beginning then,” he said. They both laid back, and Tony put on his glasses, activating night vision so he could read without a light. Peter laid next to him, waiting for the story to begin.

“Harry Potter was a highly unusual boy in many ways…”

Irondad Taglist: @phahbiyah @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @clevermuffinalmondpeach

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist! I don’t mind at all either way!

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sinditia · 3 years

Text

Marsha's Starker/Rom Howney Content Masterlist 2021

It's officially been a year since I posted my first fic on ao3 so I thought I'd compile everything I've ever made for the ship in this one post.

My AO3

My Tumblr author tag

Starker Fics:

A.I. - Artificial Interest (14k): Tony is in a coma and becomes an A.I. (ao3)

Untitled Ficlet: Tony has nightmares and Peter is there to comfort him (tumblr)

Wouldn't Be The Worst Thing (7.7k): Peter somehow finds himself having a sugar daddy (ao3/tumblr)

What's Your Favourite Iron Man Suit? Ficlet (tumblr)

Stress Relief (2.1k): Peter is called in to provide the boss with a bit of stress relief (ao3/tumblr)

Not Yours or Anyone's (3.4k): Tony cheats on his wife. Peter reflects on their secret relationship (ao3/tumblr)

The Way It Goes (79k): canon divergent fix-it fic from Homecoming onwards (ao3/tumblr)

The Sky's The Beginning (1.5k): Tony has one of his flight attendants provide him with in-flight entertainment on his jet (ao3/tumblr)

Untitled Cheating Ficlet (320): tumblr

Untitled Underage Incest Ficlet (798): tumblr

Untitled Mob Boss AU (1.2k): a threat against Peter has him ushered to a safe house as Tony hunts down the people responsible (tumblr)

Untitled Co-Dependency Drabble

Eddie and PBP (2.1k): Peter works at a fast food salad joint in and gets regular delivery orders from someone at Stark Industries (ao3/tumblr)

Mafia Heir Peter and Bodyguard Tony (1.7k): (ao3/tumblr)

Blindfold Training (536)

Take Care of My H(e)art (6.2k): Peter is a witch who messed up a spell to tell Tony how he feels (ao3/tumblr)

You're The One That I Want (21.9k): an impromptu road trip to Vegas changes the dynamics of best friends, Tony and Peter (ao3/tumblr)

Festival Ficlets

Flufftober - Tickling (424)

Flufftober - Epiphany (526)

Whumptober - Self-harm (450)

Flufftober - Cooking Together (649)

Kinktober - Videos/Pictures Feminization (1.5k)

Flufftober - Caught Kissing (572)

Kinktober - Bloodplay/Vampires (2.3k)

Kinktober - Public Sex/Orgasm Denial/High School AU (2.2k)

Kinktober - Cock Worship (837)

Kinktober - Against a Wall (568)

Flufftober - Hand holding (629)

Whumptober - Break up (428)

Flufftober - Falling Asleep (390)

Whumptober - Drug Use (335)

Kinktober - Knotting (553)

Kinktober - Shotgunning (668)

AUPril - Popstar: My Words Shoot to Kill (1.3k) (ao3/tumblr)

AUPril - Model: Through Your Eyes (3.5k) (ao3/tumblr)

Starker Moodboards

My tumblr moodboard tag

Wouldn't Be The Worst Thing

Stress Relief

Stay Numb and Carry On

Baby

Whatever You Like

Carry This Picture

Rom Howney Fics

Little Games (852): Tom flaunts his looks and charm under Robert's watchful eye, showing him all that he's learned and all that he'll get at the end of the night (ao3/tumblr)

Monacooooo (2.4k): based on Tom's appearances and instastory during the Monaco Grand Prix weekend. A little what-if where Robert comes over to visit (ao3/tumblr)

#starker #marsha's masterlist

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ironstarker · 4 years

Note

dad!tony's 50th birthday but peter is thanos'd :(

Notes: Anything for my favorite Starker ;) Somehow this turned into Irondad instead of Starker, but I’m sure we can all let our creativity run wild. Not gonna tag it as Irondad because god knows what kind of flaming I would get. This one is short (finally! I did it!) and not-so-sweet.

Warning(s): Angst, Sad!Tony, Alcoholism, Character Death

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When it came to his birthday, Tony was everything but subtle. He wanted the whole shebang: a mid-80s rock band, fireworks, a birthday cake engineered into a perfect copy of his suit. But this year, things were a little different. There was one thing that came to mind whenever the aging hero sat back and thought about what he wanted his birthday surprise to be, and it began and ended with Peter.

A little over two years ago, Tony’s birthday turned from something pleasant into something unworthy of mentioning. Whereas before he’d spend his birthday living it up, getting drunk off his ass with those closest to him, he spent the recent years in solitude. The only tradition that continued was his drinking, which seemed to be something the man couldn’t quite get control of. It got a little easier every time he swallowed a mouthful of his favorite scotch. The burn in his throat made him acknowledge the burn behind his eyes a little less.

It was where he sat today, alone in the darkened compound. Most of his brothers-in-arms (or the few who remained) had gone their separate ways. Excuse after excuse was made until it was just Tony and Natasha left to themselves. He went out of his way to avoid her if he could. The past couple years, she tried to do little things for him. A cupcake with a single candle and a handwritten note. A few balloons and a bottle of his favorite scotch. This year, she was off hunting down Clint somewhere in Moscow.

She wouldn’t find him. She never did.

Tony slumped over one of the workbenches down in his lab, pouring himself an extra helping into the tumbler of his crystal glass. The liquid sloshed against the rim, spilling over the sides. He set the bottle down. Tony eyed the amber liquid puddled on his stainless steel bench, but he made no move to wipe it away. Instead he picked up his glass and took another swig. He was on his thirtieth swallow. Twenty left.

Peter would hate that he was drinking alone.

Peter hated it when he drank, and every time Tony took another swig, he felt closer to seeing the boy. Maybe if he drank enough, the kid would materialize in front of him just to tell him off. Tony had sworn to his son that he wouldn’t touch the stuff again after the reckless rampage that was 2010. How could he be blamed for it? He was dying.

Tony would never forget the look on his son’s face when, after he’d nearly sent their house careening into the Pacific (a feat a terrorist managed years later), his son had pleaded with him not to drink. The boy’s fingers had clutched at the warped armor of his suit. Peter’s face was covered in dust from the rubble, but the tear tracks were clear. His son’s eyes were wide as he’d choked, “Dad, please. I can’t keep watching you hurt yourself.”

At least now he could do it without feeling too much guilt.

He took another pull from the glass. Thirty-one.

It was his fault. All of it. No matter what he said to Rogers, no matter how many times he ripped the housing unit off his chest and snarled that the other was a liar, it wouldn’t bring Peter back. Tony was the one who hadn’t been strong enough to save him. He remembered that day with such clarity. Fear, which had manifested itself in the form of anger. How he’d snapped at the boy when Peter dropped down from the ceiling, claiming that he was backup. Tony’s heart had raced in his chest, and he remembered thinking, “God, no. Let him go home.”

The thought came to him again, later that day, when he cradled his son’s head and felt him slipping away. Peter’s eyes met his own. His son’s cheeks were wet, and it was days later, as Tony replayed it over and over in his mind, that he realized the tears were his own.

“Daddy, please. I don’t wanna go, I wanna stay with you — ”

The bottle was empty by the time he got to fifty.

#starker #tony stark x peter parker #starker fic #tony x peter #ironspider #my fic #prompts #prompt fic #tony stark #peter parker

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just-antithings · 4 years

Note

Just anti things: saying that shipping Starker and Spiderio makes you subhuman and legal to be hunted down... and turning and saying they want to slap their pansexual sister because she has an imaginary identity (the blog is creeper//course. I was blocked by them for telling them to keep their anti stuff out of the main tag).

yikes

#ask #just anti things #just exclusionist things #mod erin #ask to tag #users to block

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peterisspidermanconfirmed · 6 years

Text

Fangs

Hey guys! This is my first Starker fic, so please no hate. 🌈

@sunshine-starker hope you like it!

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Tony Stark couldn't believe how lucky he was. He was probably the luckiest man in world. Why is that, you may ask. And your answer would come, very simply, because of Peter Parker.

Peter Parker, his beautiful boyfriend of 4 months and 23 days. And of course he knew the exact days! He was the luckiest man in the world! Why would he take that for granted? But we can talk about how lucky he is later, but for now we're gonna talk about how excited he is that Peter's finally back from his week long school trip.

For the past two hours he had been running through a painful cycle of pacing in front of the elevator, bouncing his leg up and down as he tried to focus on TV, and staring into the clock's artificial soul. But finally, FINALLY, it was time for Happy to bring him home. After two more walk-throughs of the Cycle of Hell, the elevator opened, revealing the oh-so amazing Spider-Man.

He looked...well, amazing! He was wearing one of his favorite outfits, his green checkered plaid with a light blue sweater, and dark jeans paired with his denim Converse, he looked incredible. His hair was slightly tousled by the wind and an excessive amount of running his hands through it, but Tony wasn't complaining. It looked adorable.

But the thing that caught Tony's attention was that Peter looked extremely nervous.

"Um, Pete? You okay?" He asked with concern. Peter looked up, his eyes filled with tears. "Hey, hey, hey, what's wrong baby? Come 'ere, come sit." Tony rushed to sit him down on the couch beside him. He pulled the younger boy in for a hug and played with his hair, hoping it would calm him down. Fortunately it did, and a few moments later Peter looked up, much calmer.

"Okay spider-baby what's wrong?" Tony asked him, wanting to fix whatever almost made his baby cry. Peter took a deep breath and spoke, "It- its just-" taking another deep breath he looked the other in the eye. "Well while we were all on the bus back to school, a lot of the other kids were talking about their relationships. And some of them started talking about how one of them would keep secrets, they always ended with a bad breakup. And I don't want us to break up!"

Tony was shocked, did the kid think that he was keeping secrets? "Pete, I'm not keeping any secrets. Any questions you've asked I've answered completely truthful, and I don't- " "No, no!" Peter cut him off, " I didn't mean you! I," he paused, looking extremely ashamed, "I meant me." With that reveal he broke eye contact and opted instead to watch his hands as they played with a string at the bottom of his sweater.

"What secrets?" Tony was scared of the answer. Peter rocked back and forth a little. "Just one. I was scared to tell you." Tony took his hands in his, even now reveling in the difference between them. His large, dark, callused meat paws against Peter's small, pale, delicate hands.

"You can tell me, it'll be okay." Tony told him, though he wasn't sure who he was reassuring at this point. Tears welled in Peters eyes, once again showing just how scared he was. "Will it though?" The question came so quietly Tony was sure he wasn't supposed to hear it at all, but he answered anyway, "It will, I promise."

Peter nodded and swallowed hard. "Well I think it'd be better if I showed you." With that he took one more deep breath and opened his mouth. But this time, instead of his normal teeth, there were two sets of fangs. Two small ones, and two so large he wondered how they fit it his mouth in the first place. "Uhh..." Was his ever so intelligent answer. "So now you know." Peter said, and then quieter, "I'm a monster."

Tony didn't know how to react to the fangs, but he knew one thing, "You are NOT a monster. Who would tell you such a thing?!" A single tear slipped down Peters cheek. He sniffed, "Flash. He, he saw them, I wish he hadn't but he did, and he-" He sniffed again, obviously trying his best(pacito) not to cry. "He told me that freaks like me shouldn't be allowed near normal people, and that I was the monster that parents warned their kids about at night." He started sobbing and covered his mouth with his hands, trying to muffle them.

Tony was shocked. How had he not known that this was happening? He grabbed Peter and held him close, rubbing circles into his back and whispering soft words in his ear.

He had no idea how long they sat there on that couch, but soon enough it was dark out. Peters sobs were finally calmed down and he was breathing was calm, his head propped under Tony's chin. "Thank you for telling me, love. And I promise you, you are not a monster. Those people who call out others on their differences? Those are the real monsters." Peter giggled. "Well those and the actual monsters who attack New York." Tony chuckled along with him. "Yes, and those ones. Now give us a smile." Peter smiled wide, his fangs practically gleaming in the artificial light. And Tony thought, with his ruffled hair, pinkish/red lips, scrunched up nose and, yes, his fangs that almost made him look like a saber-tooth tiger hybrid, he couldn't be more beautiful.

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This art is totally free to use if wanted, just please tag me in it so I can see your awesome work! I really hoped you liked this short fic, its the first part in an ongoing series that I write in my head lol please give feedback, and please don't repost as your own. Happy hunting! ❤

#starker #starker fic #tony stark #tonyxpeter #peter parker #tony stark x peter parker #tony stark x reader #tony stark x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x tony stark #peter parker x stark!reader

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