In case you forgot, here’s to remembering Tony single handedly solved time travel and brought back half the universe, all because he looked at a photo of him and Peter
@sins-of-a-spider put up some headcanons earlier and I've been hyperfixating on Peter's oversensitive nipples 👀 but the others are so good too! I'm liking the first point which was something about Tony needing to get used to and keeping up with shy but super needy Peter 😱 I think cause a lotta ideas tend to go with Tony being more experienced and wearing Peter out but!! Peter being so excited to try new things and having a partner to try them with... 😳
Non/dubcon TW?? I kinda took this in the direction of extremely needy Peter wearing Tony out because he's the only one Peter has ever wanted or needed in bed // Peter switching things up
Ahah- pretend Peter doesn't need webshooters------
When Tony and Peter first started fucking, it was no surprise Peter could go longer than most of Tony’s past partners. Peter was young, fit, and on god, he had superpowers. Tony- Tony’s just a smart man, a beautiful one, but when it comes to strength, without the suit Tony’s no better than a usual attending the gym. It sounds misleading, Tony is strong, but not as strong without the suit. Yet Peter, Peter has super strength, a rock hard core and blazing cardio to match his equally quick brain and primitive ego. When he starts he doesn’t stop, not because he wants to keep going, but because if every last drop isn’t milked from his writhing, burning body, he won’t be able to rest. His mind buzzing all night, crotch warm and even sweat beading around his temples, no he won’t be able to even think straight.
occhiolismatic reblogged
Kiss after fight...
You mean to tell me it didn’t happen like this cuz I for one remember it happening like this
For @spadestorm696 : Boyfriend Tony; Peter facing homophobia; soft
“I’m fine.” Peter chokes out. He fumbles with those god awful straps belonging to the school bag that hangs from sorry shoulders. A few hidden tears stashed away in matted eyelashes brim his eyes, voice giving off the faint impression of a cry coming on, and there he stood before Tony, tiny hands trembling, feet bowed at the knees and sneakers untied, all as the horrors of the day troubled his conscious. He wasn’t sad, rather it was anger. “No really, I-I’m fine.”
Cue Tony not taking even the slightest chunk of Peter’s bullshit lies but not showing it. Tony’s palm around Peter’s reddened cheek, soft to the touch, a simple finger hooking itself over the boy’s cherry red lips to wipe the spit that covers it; it’s lovely; it’s safe. “No you’re not.”
The kids at school, they had no idea of Peter’s beautiful relationship with Tony, nor just how absolutely right it was for the both of them. How were they to know, not like it would ever matter with their hurtful comments, hate geared towards that one kid who, unlike Peter, came out of the closet years ago. It’s not like Peter had been surprised by the wound-inflicting remarks, the slurs, the names. It wasn’t a shock, quite frankly it was further in the other direction, a foul spiral towards the norm of reality, and no matter how many times Peter had to sit beside his peers listening to their blunt hostility, this time it hurt more than ever and Tony was seeing right through his lies, “You don’t have to tell me, but do not lie to me, Peter.” His eyes rake the other’s face. “Don’t lie to yourself either, that’s the most dangerous thing you could do.”
He brushes the boy’s cherub curls and a blink later Peter has forgotten just about every inconsiderate, rude behavior washing through his pretty, little head, as adorable laughter and tight giggles fill the loft and Tony massages every harsh muscle in the boy’s precious body.
“No, it wasn’t like that- you had just gotten out of the shower.” Peter chirps, rolling over onto his tummy.
“No, because you were asleep. You wouldn’t remember, obviously.”
“No, I swear, our first kiss, it was like, like now.” He huffs, frustrated. “I was laying in your lap, kind of like this, and then you grabbed my chin, like so,” Peter continues, maneuvering to grab Tony’s hands. “And then it went something like-”
He doesn’t get to complete his statement before slick lips meet pink, a small whimper of bliss leaving Peter’s lungs, and Tony’s kissing the other with such high reverence and fervent care that the boy firmly believes he never wants to let go, that this is how he would rather spend the rest of his days, basking in the blankets under the tender touch of Tony’s adoration. Back then, Tony hadn’t been Peter’s first kiss, but it was the only one that actually mattered.
“Like that?” Tony pulls away with the smuggest of cheeky smiles, baratone voice deep and still descending. Even after all this time it made Peter redden, feel warm all over, his body tingling with something along the lines of mixed embarrassment and satisfaction.
“Y-yeah, like that.”
And on God their playful argument didn’t matter anymore. Peter knew he was right and who he loved, the person he felt for regardless of what other people thought. It had never felt better to love than it did in that moment.
“No matter what anyone says, or thinks, or does, I love you, okay Pete?”
On closer inspection there are tears, but they’re happy ones at that.
“More than anything.”
🎄❤️ Starker Christmas ❤️🎄
Dt: @spirepor
“Do you think this will be enough?” Peter questioned, thrashing around a tangled string of lights. As per Peter’s enthusiastic, holiday request, the two of them were decorating. It was Peter’s idea, even going to the extremes to have Tony take the day off.
“More than enough, sweetheart,” he eyed the other eight boxes of Christmas lights, ornaments and things, all for the penthouse. It was almost annoying, the number of trinkets littering the floor, going on and on. It didn’t matter though, this is what Peter wanted. So he’d get it.
“Are you sure-”
“Peter.” Silence followed.
At the seriousness in Tony’s voice, the boy looked up from his deranged work, the mess in his hands, and instantaneously Tony dramatically softened. Peter had always been the personification of angel, and with those lights radiating golden, twinkling hues across his rosy cheeks, Tony could’ve died right there.
“If we need more, don’t worry about it. I’ll get it, okay?”
Expressing gratitude, Peter happily thanked him, offering a gentle smile. He picked up the lights and carried on, dumping the other boxes into one massive pile, and for a boy whose IQ probably maxed any other teenager, one would’ve thought he’d had been smarter about it.
Tony felt the relentlessness of an urge to say something, perhaps advise the kid not to make the work harder on himself, but he didn’t, not when Peter emanated nothing but concentration, fingers quickly tracing the cords in high hopes of draping them around the tables, the ceiling, the light fixtures. What kind of human being would he be to interject?
So he attempted to ignore, setting out festive dishes and toys, pulling out little Christmas trees and music boxes. But one moment later Peter was giving up, realizing his mistakes and where each had been made.
“This- this isn’t working-” Tony heard him say.
“The lights?”
“Yes, the lights, I can’t get them untangled, and..” He stopped talking. Tony was chuckling under is breath, prompting Peter to stand with folded arms in the cutest of pouts. “It’s not funny.”
Tony rolled his eyes, flicking a tongue across his lips, “Yeah, right…” A pause for thought. “Say, what do you want for Christmas?” Before Peter had the chance to protest or express petulant annoyance, he had a sudden change of heart. He didn’t want anything; he already had everything. He had Tony.
“I don’t.. I don’t know.. I haven’t really thought about that.”
“C’mon, there’s gotta be something you want,” Tony said. “A new phone? I know that one of yours is awfully cracked..” And Peter winced, half-imagining the easily trashed piece of technology that he had dropped far too many times beyond remembrance.
“No really, I got what I wanted.”
Originally, Peter had asked to decorate, and they did, starting with the outside of Stark Industries screaming December, millions of tiny bulbs lining the estate’s building, and now with the interior, Peter had gotten just that. The tower had been made even difficult to miss; it was almost as though Christmas threw up, and it was Peter’s doing. The electric bill would be another story.
“Upgrades? I can make it happen, new webshooters?” Tony hummed, occupied as he strung lights over the door frame. “There’s endless possibilities, you know. Different settings? New lenses? A suit? Nanotech is never perfect, and wasn’t there a glitch a few weeks back? What if-”
Peter approached, resting an open palm on the man’s arm.
“You don’t want anything for Christmas?” Tony repeated in confusion, after all Peter had the world at his fingertips.
He shook his head left to right, grip squeezing just barely, “I already have you.”
“I know, but…” Peter looked to the ground, stuffing gloved palms further into deep pockets. “But I wasn’t expecting it to be this cold.” His nose red and face shiny, the boy sniffled and watched his step, passing by a rather large plate of ice.
“Really? I thought that much was obvious, did the snow not give it away?” Tony huffed, his hot breath creating a cloud in the cold air. He blew aside a couple of rampant flakes, and Peter hesitated in his step, orbs just as cold as the atmosphere surrounding them. “Ha, ha. Funny,” he joked.
With the snow continuing to fall in light sheets, flakes blanketing the ground of the park and freezing quite literally everything, including Peter, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Winter wasn’t going anywhere, and really, it wasn’t
“We didn’t have to agree to go for a walk,” Tony entertained.
“I know..” Peter repeated, “but I asked nicely.” He snuggled beyond the hem of his winter jacket, the one thing keeping him warm in such frigid weather, his cheeky smugness hidden behind a muffled voice.
“So?”
“So you agreed because you can’t say no to me. I wanted this, even if I can’t feel my toes.” Smiling, he kicked up a mound of snow with his boot, majority of which only dusted Tony in the process, and the older of the two flinched, shaking himself of as many flakes as possible, all the while a grin curled past his lips. Peter had a point.
“I don’t know whether to be flattered or disappointed.”
Dimples showing through, Peter chuckled, “You’ll figure it out.”
He waited for Tony to join him in their walk once more, and when he did, Peter took pride in intertwining their hands, tangling their fingers at the knuckle for comfort. Instantly, Peter felt nothing but relief, fuzz kindness, everything but the bleak, stinging cold of the air. None of that mattered when he was with Tony.
An icebox as Peter was, Tony made that all go away, just with the touch of his hand. Peter melted.
“Thanks for the apology, by the way.” Tony added, and Peter hummed in confusion. “For driving me into the snow, I forgive you.” He placed a gentle kiss on Peter’s cheek, causing him to squeeze, strengthening his grip for a moment, just a tiny bit harder, feeling the way in which his mind, how his heart, was beginning to thaw, “I apologize.”
Brushing the ice that littered his coat, eyebrows raised, he carried on, settling into the hand hold of the only person he loved more than anything, “And I don’t give you everything you want,” Tony started back up again, a hint of defense in his voice. Defeated, Peter bumped and shook the two of their palms between their sides.
“Sure thing.”
“Pardon me?”
Standing there together, light reflecting off sheets of sheer white, Peter had never looked so damn beautiful with his rosy cheeks and tossed, hat hair, his skin slightly paler than usual in contrast to such bright eyes, almond, the perfect addition being the baby flakes of snow nesting themselves in stray, silky curls and catching his clothing; shoulders; beanie; collar and chest.
Even the sun took to a liking with its drifting rays cast so meticulously through the trees and upon Peter’s face, illuminating the ice in his breath, the matte of his eyelashes. Tony was no different with an authentic, accentuated smile, face colorful, all brought to you by the crisp air.
“Is that a threat?” Peter questioned, knowing both the answer and the consequences. What he hadn’t expected was quite the opposite, to be engulfed by the warm fleece of Tony’s scarf. Unraveling the piece from around his neck, Tony snaked the article over Peter’s shoulders, loosely wrapping it around the boy’s collar, the excess arms folding back and over and around, all the way until Peter’s poor face could barely be seen. It had startled him at first, but the comforting smell of Tony combined with some leftover body heat, well, Peter loved it.
“Do you want it to be, sweetheart?”
Flushed, Peter didn’t know how to reply, not that he could say much anyways with a mouthful of scarf, face barely showing and all. So instead he shook his head no and eased into the touch of Tony’s palm.
And Tony pulled the fabric down, just barely to see the beauty behind it, the beauty of Peter’s face; that was enough. Leaning in to place his mouth on Peter’s own, Tony softly planted a kiss on the boy’s spit-slickened lips, chapped but not quite, soft but not perfect, cold but warm enough, and Tony wouldn’t have wanted it any. other. way.
It heated Peter to the core, stripping him of chills while simultaneously fabricating butterflies, and reaching up right there on the tips of his toes, he enjoyed it just as much, smiling against the indents of Tony’s lips, the scruff of his chin.
“You can have anything you want,” Tony finally said, tucking the ends of the scarf where they wouldn’t fall away.
Peter enjoyed it just as much.
Gift Wrapping
“Don’t get me wrong…” Tony half smiled, “but I think there’s more tape going on that present than the actual wrapping paper.”
Frustrated, Peter tossed down a roll of tape, “Well, listen. It’s not my fault this gift is abnormally shaped... aand.. no one ever taught me how to wrap presents.” He watched as the tape bounced away, hitting Tony at the knee with a quiet thud, of which the other proceeded to pick up, dainty, kind. It was hard not to laugh, sitting there on the ground admiring Peter’s poor, poor work.
“I’m trying.”
“Oh I know, I know,” Tony silenced a baby laugh, shuffling closer to the boy. Obviously disappointed in his craft, Peter scrunched his face and got back to work perfecting the present in his hands, a gift for May. She always did mention that beautiful kitchen set, not to mention the apartment could use more utensils.
“Do you need some help?” The older of the two offered.
“Nuh-uh- I got this. I think I can handle wrapping a few measly presents.”
Having already taken care of his own holiday gifts, Tony obeyed and handed the tape back to Peter, gently placing it in the kid’s open palm as the boy stared intently at the atrocity before him. Peter hadn’t even taken his eyes off of it, one thumb holding the right corner of the paper in place, the other waving for Tony to hurry up and give him the item or something to hold the gift wrap in place, mostly before the paper falls off.
Tongue sticking out between pearly whites, Peter sucked in his breath and pulled yet another long strand of tape from the dispenser. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
“Are you.. sure?” The difference between his and Tony’s gift wrapping skills crystal clear, Tony’s generosity had been packed and stacked away for quite some time, neat, tidy and pretty with simple yet wispy bows, crisp edges and the like. “I can help you, you know.”
“I got it! I got it-” Peter shooed away the male, scooching his Christmas-pajama-themed-butt across the polished floor. It squeaked, but he hadn’t noticed, the only thing he cared about was putting some distance between him and the man trying to, in his mind, do the work for him.
“You could just put it in a box, make it easier on yourself, or perhaps a bag. The trees might agree..”
Peter took offense, slapping down the sticky tape across the entirety of the present. It caught the already torn paper on its way down, flipping and curling over with a massive, annoying bubble, and Peter could feel the frustration pooling in his chest: “What’s that supposed to mean?” He flung his hand around like a deflating balloon, all in attempt to rid his fingers of the material without losing his grip on the wrapping paper.
Tony smiled again.
Peter was so cute, all determined like that. He wanted to be the one to put in the effort, especially for May. He had to express his gratitude somehow with how much love and care his aunt had given him all these years, and letting Tony do the work for him might take that away. He listened to the way in which Tony breathed out, a laugh evident in his tone, after all Peter knew the other well enough to understand when Tony was amused. Hands busy folding and flipping the set in search of the best angle to finish off the gift, he hadn’t heard Tony stand to his feet or cross, clearing the gap between the two of them.
“Beautiful, hun,” Tony said through the silenced hum of Christmas music. Peter nodded. He had no idea Tony was in fact referring to him and not the project between such small hands, although that was adorable too.
Fingers gracing almond hair, Tony ruffled the top of Peter’s head and towered over, commending the other for all of his hard work, even picking balls of tape from the boy’s curls. He wasn’t going to ask how that had even happened.
“Do you think May will like it?” Peter questioned, voice hitching. He raised the box ever so slightly, small movements to cast more light on the unfortunate thing. He worried.
“Of course she will,” Tony brushed a stray strand to the side. “You did a good job, sweetheart.” Peter set the completed gift down and puffed out his lips, deep in dismay. He hoped she’d like it. He tried really hard, and lately she needed a little light in her life.
Tilting his head back vertically, all the way until Tony came into view above and the bokeh lights twinkled off his face, Peter trusted the other’s opinion. “Do you think so?” he asked, feeling Tony’s clothed knees come in contact with his back, a support mechanism to hold up and prevent the boy from falling.
“Mmhm.”
Peter had no time to think before Tony was craning down to kiss him, softly cupping Peter at the chin for a genuine, delicate kiss, an upside down kiss. Peter loved it, off guard and pushing for more, socked feet slowly slipping from beneath him. Sweet, delectable, the boy tasted something like cookies, a few crumbs still scattered on his pink lips from earlier, and Tony wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. He hummed.
Peter smiled.
“I know so.”
#starker#peter parker#tony stark#tony x peter#peter x tony#marvel#tony stark x peter parker#peter parker x tony stark#hi im not good at writing so have this soft piece of holiday shit#because Christmas is warm#and I love them#so#merry crimis#part fucking one I guess#I really enjoyed writing this too so hopefully it motivates me to write more#I've kinda just been dead lately
Anonymous asked:
Can I get uhhhhhh Avengers movie night with Tony jerking off Peter under a blanket and Peter desperately trying not to make too much noise (they all know what's going on)
Hi, this is shitty, but they are not sooo
hey I fucking love starker
that is all
Anonymous asked:
You know what we don't have enough of in this fandom? Pirate AUs. Peter is a stowaway on the ship Iron Man and its captain, the Dread Pirate Tony Stark, decides to let him stay provided he can make himself useful. You have creative license for whatever you want to do with this
Stab me with this // I’d actually love to write this
He had killed.
Not afraid to stab a man in the chest and leave him there todie, he had killed, tortured, left men to cry and beg for their deaths as an escapefrom immense pain, and Stark wasn’t afraid of such actions. Sometimes the bestway out, at least for someone like him, was to watch, to listen to their painedscreams and never look back.
But when it came to the poorlittle peasant boy stowed away on his ship, there came a soft spot, especiallywith the kid’s copper honey eyes, glowing caramel with sage tears, watering,glistening out of fear and desperation for himself - trepidation of theunknown. He had nothing, didn’t know what was going to happen, where he was going to be tossed to die. Sometimes youmake the wrong decision, and he had just done that.
“And what do you suppose we, what do you suppose I,” Stark stopped circling the boy,“do with something so fragile like you?” He stood, figure towering in contrastto his soft yet intimidating voice. He could read the boy’s face like anovel, nothing but pure unadulterated innocence.
Trembling on his knees beforethe man, head hung low, shoulders slouching along the dip of his oversized clothing,the boy didn’t dare to speak. Even if it meant sparing his life, he couldn’tbring himself to utter a single word, and for Stark, if it had been any otherperson, a crewmember, an old shipmate, a crusty pioneer or beggar, well… he would have gotten rid of him like the rest.This though? This child? There was something special uniquely hiddenbehind the worry emanating off the boy’s body.
Not only that, but there were tears silently spilling downdirty, plush cheeks.
Stark let out a mumbled, sarcastic awe, leaning forward and downto pitch an open palm beneath the stowaway’s chin, lifting, demanding eyecontact:
“How did someone with such apretty face like yours end up on a ship like mine?”
Anonymous asked:
Hi! Can I ask for the second part of the Starker!AU with Peter being fucked by his sexy teacher while people is still around? Thank youuu ❤️ Love your work ❤️
This does continue from my last Teacher/Student starker ;) so anyone reading this should check that out too
Teacher // Student Starker
This isn’t a phat porno, it’s just a good time.
At first, Peter thought about dropping out. Not out of high school, not out of his future diploma, but out of Mr. Stark’s class, room 17A right at the end of the hall. He knew about Mr. Stark, the new teacher whom of which all the girls admired, had little school-girl crushes on; he knew where Mr. Stark’s classroom was, heard all the stories. He thought he was safe, he’d never get put in the man’s class. Hell, he had never even seen Mr. Stark, but he lived in fear, fear that one day he might, not because he didn’t necessarily want to be in the man’s class. Rather, it was because he knew if he was, he’d never be able to concentrate, and that’s exactly how it went.
“Mr. Parker?” Tony’s voice came through, irritated possibly annoyed by the boy cynically staring at him from across the room.
Wrists slamming to the wooden tabletop beneath him, Peter snapped, notably out of confusion, almost as if he didn’t know where he was, or who he was at that. He’d been day dreaming, lost in his thoughts, not listening to the languid words flowing from Mr. Stark’s mouth. In contrast, he’d been imagining a whole lot of other things. Is Mr. Stark married? Does he wear a ring? He doesn’t talk about his wife a lot... maybe he’s not straight. Is he straight? I mean, c’mon Peter, look at his lips. Except… Peter was looking at the man’s lips, almost a bit too much for comfort, visualizing their soft texture, their taste. It wasn’t just his lips the boy had been caught admiring. It was Mr. Stark’s hands, large and callused, fabricating some predisposition in which they could possibly graze Peter’s own milky, smooth skin, trailing down his chest to the warmth between his thighs. He’d been resting his chin on an open palm, arousal growing in his jeans at the thought of Mr. Stark touching him all over, fantasizing what it would be like, what it would feel like, to be on his knees before his very own teacher, staring up into Mr. Stark’s dark, enticing eyes towering above him, feeling the sensations grow with Mr. Stark caressing his chin so delicate and gentle. It would make it ten times better if Mr. Stark was actually married. Peter flushed. Did he really want Mr. Stark to raise his legs, lean him over the desk? Pin him against the promethean board with such force that it knocks the wind out of him and mouth off words of degradation in his ear with those cupid-bow lips? Did he want to fuck his teacher? Yeah. He did.
“Do you have the answer?” Mr. Stark loudly repeated himself for the fourth time, granting Peter miniscule chuckles, laughs from the surrounding students. Peter hadn’t been paying attention, not at all.
“Oh-” Peter sat upright, straightening his back and bringing his chair forward. Glancing down, he hadn’t the slightest idea where they were or what question poor Peter was supposed to be answering. Hiding his gaze underneath a sleeved palm, he scanned the notes splayed out on his desk. Fuck, shit. Where were they? How long was I not listening?
Leaning against his desk at the front of the classroom, silence befalling the atmosphere, Mr. Stark crossed his arms, “Any day now, Parker. We’re waiting on you.”
Leg bouncing at the knee, Peter didn’t know what to say. Does he admit to not knowing the answer? But then Mr. Stark would ask why, and he’d be forced to announce the truth; he hadn’t been paying attention, and then Mr. Stark would repeat himself, and Peter wasn’t about to out himself as hopelessly set on fucking his teacher.
Voice fading, slowly inching an octave or two higher, Peter absently took and folded over the corner of his papers, over the doodles of Mr. Stark’s name, “Uh- right. Right.” He swallowed, sweat jerking its way into beads which stuck on his forehead. “Se..ven?” Sounding unsure, more of a question than an answer, Peter couldn’t bring himself to look up from pen resting in front of him. Quite frankly, he still had no clue where the class was at, if he had been looking at the right question or even assignment, and he could feel Mr. Stark’s intense stare piercing through his skin, right into his mind, directly to the lewd thoughts staining the grinding gears in his head.
“Good job, Mr. Parker.” Mr. Stark said softly, sounding simultaneously both amused and surprised at the good guess.
The class shuffled, almost as if each student had been sitting on the edge of his or her seat, patiently waiting for Peter to mess up the answer, and the boy felt a cleansing wave of relief wash over him. He fell back in his chair.
Clichés aside, that day Mr. Stark wasn’t the one to pull Peter aside on the way out. The bell rang, all the students filing out the door eager to get home, some of the girls trickling to say goodbye to Mr. Stark, and it was Peter who stayed behind, taking his sweet time to pack his things, carefully placing papers in their designated folders, which should’ve come off as odd, considering the boy, despite his good grades, never kept his belongings organized, and he went as far as dropping pencils, stalling time by slowly pushing his chair in until the room was empty, the only exception being Mr. Stark standing at the front wiping off the chalk and white boards. With the door clicking closed and his back turned to the boy, Peter half expected Mr. Stark not to realize he was still in the room.
“Why’d you have to call me out like that, Mr. Stark?” Peter asked confrontationally, adamantly pulling the straps on his backpack.
Mr. Stark continued erasing, voice speaking out fanatically fast. He had been waiting for Peter. “Why’d you have to zone out in my class?” Peter’s confidence drained. “I don’t appreciate the lack of attention.” Or overflow thereof.
“I- I didn’t zone in your class. It was an accident, really.” Peter looked to the desk, the very desk he half imagined Mr. Stark would bend him over; suddenly he regretted all his decisions.
Mr. Stark silently clicked his tongue: “Oh, really now?”
Peter clenched his jaw. Mr. Stark probably wouldn’t have approached the boy about the situation, but Peter had done that himself. “Y-yeah..” he replied.
“If you weren’t daydreaming, then I’m sure you have a better explanation for being soft eyed and unresponsive in the back of my class? I’d love to hear it, must’ve been good with the way you had your head propped up and everything. I only asked you..” He titled his head, “What? Four times before I got an answer out of you. A lucky one, aren’t you?” Finally, he tossed down a marker and turned on his heels to face Peter. The kid wanted nothing more than to press the rewind button and exit with the rest of the kids. They were alone. How filthy of him to instantly grow hard in his jeans.
“I just- I dissociated. You know, nothing new. It-it happens to a lot of kids, especially when-”
Hands digging into his pockets, the older man puffed out his lips, “Might I add, you appear to be pret-ty well entertained.” He divided the description, eyeing Peter head to toe, letting the silence kick in while Peter came to understand what the male sought to reference. Blushing, Peter retaliated, folding his hands over his lap.
Anonymous asked:
I know that Tony didn't have the arc reactor when he met Peter but... Can you even imagine the nerd-boner it would give Pete? 😍😍 I could imagine him cumming on it even.
Of course Tony didn’t havethe arc reactor when he met Peter. Gone but not forgotten, the little glowingreactor that once protected Tony’s heart left behind scars reminiscent of atrauma-filled past, and Peter was what? 15 in civil war, which took place twoor three years after Tony underwent surgery to remove it, putting Peter at aroundthe age of 13 when it was removed? But consider modern day Tony with that shinyring, upgraded, still preventing fragments of shrapnel from reaching his heart?Although necessary for survival, after years and years of having it, Tony hatesit, wants it gone, but modern day Peter? Peter loves it. YEAH, it’s upsetting knowing Tonywould be dead without it, but that hunky piece of metal interests Peter to a T.
“Can… can I touch it?” Peterasked, his question becoming worthless, as evidenced by the pointed fingeralready dinking the metal in Tony’s chest. “Woah- Mr. Stark-”
Tony reached out, large handstaking hold of Peter’s, engulfing them into his own, one on the bottom, theother on the top. “Yes, Peter, it’s shiny. I am more than fully aware.”
Tony lay sprawled with Peter stashed between his legs, the boy’slittle butt peaking in the air as he nuzzled himself further against Tony’storso, obviously to get a closer look at the intriguing invention keeping Mr.Stark alive, obviously. It hadn’t been sexual, not at all. Justmoments ago they were laying, cuddling in each other’s arms to the sound of amovie in the background, food and drinks littering the room, and Peter had evenbegun to doze off, his cheek resting against Tony’s side, dangerously close tothe softly purring ring wrapped around the other man’s heart. He would havepassed out, gone to sleep right with Tony, the man slowly diving into a dreamalongside Peter as well, but once the teenager noticed the faint blue lightunderneath one layer of cloth and connected the dots, he realized he had yet tosee the reactor in person. The older man was always clothed during sex, wearinga suit or something that covered the reactor, that or he had Peter so whipped,had fucked him too much for the boy’s own good, the kid had probably seen thereactor before, kissed it too, but he couldn’t remember, not with the circuitlooping against his ear. He wanted to run his fingers over the cold metal, grazethe sides where it met Tony’s skin. So he asked. He sat up, removed theblankets from their bodies, the heat automatically dispersing, and rolled intothe other’s lap: “Mr. Stark, can I see the arc reactor?
Certainly not about to turn down the sparkle twinkling inPeter’s eyes, Tony agreed, sitting up to angle his body more forward. Peter,almost like an impatient little puppy, sprung at Tony’s chest, lifting theshirt covering the other’s sternum, pulling it up to meet Tony’s neck where theolder man took hold of it, biting into the cloth with his teeth so he couldforce the blankets down at his waist. Face illuminating with blue, Peterstared, doe-eyed and soft, one hand still gripping onto Tony’s shirt even whenhe knew the other had it handled, and he didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t abad thing, it was just.. amazing? Spectacular? A work of art? “It’s so pretty,”Peter began, mind running a thousand miles a minute.
“Could say the same aboutyou,” Tony added, dropping the shirt back to his collarbones with a pat. Peter, too awestruck to pick up on the compliment, might’veblushed, the red in his cheeks overtaking the teal basking his skin. So yeah, there they were. Peter prodded the reactor with a sharp fingertip, tapping the metalonce and then twice to listen to the sounds vibrating, bouncing back into hisear, and Tony, peering down at Peter’s tiny fingers, let him.
Peter knew all the facts, the magnets, the vibranium, it’scapabilities, the energy it housed. “Mr. Stark, I gotta say, I knew it wasstunning, but..” He looked up at Tony with careful, aureate eyes, even exchangedsmiles, Tony telling him it was okay. “Mr. Stark, you’re so smart. I don’tunderstand-”
“You don’t have to understand-”
“Just, like.. woah you made this, you know? It’s so fetchingand sleek,” he let out a gasp when Tony playfully ruffled the boy’s hair. It wasn’t enough to break his attention from the fine details of the reactor though. “It’s.. comparatively one of the most intricate pieces of technology I’ve ever laideyes on, and you… you? made this, and it’s keeping you alive, and you wouldn’tbe here without it and it’s just..” He poked it again, thrusting his facecloser to its epicenter, squinting to narrow his gaze up and under each tinycrevasse.
Tony smiled, “It’s also a bomb, Pete. Weaponized correctly,and you’re touching an explosive, one that many would love to have their handson. You’re just lucky, now aren’t you? Fortunate, some would say.”
Peter swallowed, leaning away from Tony’s torso with aknuckle in his mouth.
“You’re hard, aren’t you?” Tony casually said, arms limp athis sides with Peter slightly nodding in embarrassment.
“It’s just! It’s so pretty, and you’re so attractive andintelligent and I couldn’t.. I couldn’t just stop myself, not when your fancyarc reactor is engraved and polished and-”
“And you’re sitting on my lap?” Tony blinked, faceemotionless yet entertained. “Is that it?”
Peter scoffed, crossing his arms, finding it almostunbearable not to gape open-mouthed at Tony’s carved chest, the tiny,superconductor sculped perfectly for him, “Don’t make fun of me.”
“I’m not, baby, it’s cute that yougot a nerd-boner,” he teased.
Tony’s language, while stirring up the fascination burningin Peter’s shorts, forced the boy’s fingers further into his own mouth, deeper,harder, much like the bulge now pressing against Tony’s thigh; Peter’s hardon.After a moment’s hesitation and a gentle murmur of encouragement, Tony guidedPeter’s shrill fingers away from the reactor and to the boy’s pants, giving himthe ultimate “go to” to touch himself, right there on top of Tony where the mancan see Peter in all his glory, and Peter, raising his knees from the bed toslip off his clothing, to discard it to the floor, tossed away for tomorrow morning,wasn’t going to reject the offer. Once bare from the waist down, it was allover. Tony threw his hands behind his head, arms bent at the elbows, and satback watching his baby boy jack off on top of him, the reactor in his chesthoming Peter’s eyes like glue, and Peter touched himself all over, easing thestress in his groin, leaning forward with lustful, plumps lips pulled betweenhis canines. Peter did the work getting himself off, stroking away from hisbody towards Tony, flicking his wrist in heavy, unorganized motions, sliding aloose finger into the slit of his head while kneading the bed with his toes,and Tony carried the foolish sentiments, purring words of praise but also ofdegradation as he tells the kid where to touch himself.
“Underneath, baby boy, daddy knows where his little bratlikes it, there you go, just like that.” And Peter listens, too enticed bythe blue smolder cast upon his dick, incandescent and pretty, to do anythingelse but massage his perfect little cocklet.
Peter might try to babble about how incredibly smart Tonyis, talk about the unimaginable and how he can’t even begin to fathom how Tonydrew up the reactor’s design, but he wouldn’t be able to. He can’t talk whendaringly sweet pants heave and fight for release through Peter’s mouth, drawingin and out of his lips with each brush of fingers against his hard dick,seemingly choking himself because goddamn, Peter’s never seen anything morealluring than Tony with the reactor, smirking up at him, accompanied with an egofueled by pride and possessiveness.
And when he cums, when he can’t take theweight in his belly any more, he’ll let go, go completely wild with animalisticmoans, jerking his hips forward, lips wet and eyes glassy; splatter the reactorand Tony’s chest with sticky, white streaks, spattering the vibranium, his cumdripping off the sides, sinking into the sealed cracks, even going as far as toreach Tony’s face, lightly shooting himself onto his cheek or just barelygracing his curled, smug-drenched lips.
Anonymous asked:
can I get Tony fucking Peter in his room and May walking in on them ajajajsj I know it’s cliche but I just need it
Warning: gets to be some non-con at the end // that part isn’t very long, but still! Don’t read it if it makes you uncomfortable or you don’t like it.
“Oh god.. please..please-” Peter wails, reaching up and out to firmly take hold of the headboard.Below him, ears wedged between two pillows, is Tony, whose rough handsclutch onto opaque, creamy skin, Peter’s skin, the skin of his bare ass,dimpling, clasping hard enough to leave remnants of bruises. “Please don’t stop-” he cries.
Tony smiles, craning his neck to gaze atthe breathless boy stamped above him. Sweat gleaming against hues of thebedside lamp, curls damp and moist, ears red, and eyebrows embossed withsatisfaction, Peter can’t help but tremble, fingernails scratching at thewooden bedframe. As per Peter’s request to be slammed until he can’twalk, they’d been fucking since the last bell of Midtown and taking full advantageof May being out of town. Peter totally skipped lastblock to call up Tony, asking the male to meet him at Peter’s place, a demand the male couldn’t say no to. Yeah, Peter loved May, but damn he loved Tony’s cock, especially when it’s inside of him,especially when he can be as loud as he wants. The kid was supposed to be staying with Ned, but lord knows that’s notwhat Peter wanted to do, not when Tony Stark’s willing to come over and smashuntil the neighbors can hear the moans ripping the lining of his own throat.
“Look at you, you’re such a slut, begging for daddy’s cocklike that, you’re lucky I’m not punishing you for skipping school,” Tonybreathes out, grinding his teeth and jutting his jaw.
“I’m… I’m sorry-” Peter’s eyes draw together, closing for asolid second before opening again, “I just-” He reaches down, a quivering palmto caress his hip only then to fall to the curve of his ass, stretching himselffor Tony’s length, not that Tony’s hands aren’t already resting there, brutallypulling the boy apart as he thrusts into his contracting body.
“You just what, baby boy? Couldn’t wait for daddy’s cock?”
With pressure substantially building in Peter’s belly, thetone of Tony’s deep voice is almost too much to handle. He grinds into Peter asthe kid lugs himself down, meeting Tony halfway before sinking to the root, lewdlyrolling his hips, lolling his tongue while his baby cock bounces off his tummy, leavingdamp spots each time it comes in contact with warm skin. And Tony smirks, dragginghis thumb to insert it into Peter’s puckering hole, leaving it there while therest of his cock rids Peter of any leftover childhood innocence. It’s worth rewarding, as evidenced by the cute gasp from Peter’s lips. “You like that, don’t you you dirtybrat? I bet you’d do well with more than one dick plugging your hole, not that I’d let that happen. I’m the only one who gets to touch you, isn’t that right?”
Hands dig into dark hair, small fingers pulling at the back ofTony’s head while Peter sighs, nodding his head with a loud mewl. He’s about toreply, choke out a response or something trivial along the lines of yes daddywhen Peter senses a greater presence, someone walking towards the door. Panicking, forcinghimself like a bitch in heat to take Tony all the way, he bites his tongue and rolls off the twin-sizedbed, bringing Tony down with him.
“Peter? Peter, baby is that you?” May.
“I thought you said she was out of town?” Tony whispers centimetersfrom Peter’s face, his neck now throbbing just as much as his cock stilldigging inside Peter’s strained body.
Peter, already so close to cumming, can barely breathe. He’sholding his breath as if it’ll make May disappear, yet he’s also doing itbecause of the slight pain pegging its way up his spine from the mass buried inhis ass, not to mention he just so happened to land directly on Tony’s groin. “She- she was-” helooks frightened, scared for more reasons than one, including the spurts spewing from his little dick. “She’s supposed to be-”
“Pete?”
“Uhhh- just a second!”
“Peter, are you alright? What’s going on in there? I heard aloud noise, and I-”
Luckily for him, Tony’s a fast thinker, and as soon as hisback slams into the hard flooring, he’s reaching up, searching for Peter’ssweater, a hoodie, something to cover the kid’s torso. He tosses it overthe kid’s head, pulls it down over his heaving chest, and by time May barges in, Peter was, from her perspective, fully dressed.
“I thought you were staying with Ned?” Concern painting her face and keys in hand, she leans against the doorframe, eyeingPeter’s body over the bed. “Are you.. Are you alright? Again, I heard a loudnoise, and it sounded like someone knocked something over-”
“Duh- nothing! Nothing, it was nothing, really-” Peter stutters.“I just-”
What May sees is nothing compared to what Tony sees. Shesees her nephew, well the upper half of him, fully clothed, sitting on theother side of his bed, and what Tony sees, is a beautiful little cockslut,planted right on his lap, dick twitching, face flushed with beads of sweatstill clinging to his forehead. Petite hands pulling on sleeves, Peterbrings his knees together, clinking them with his palms because he knows Tony’sa dirty freak, and to every aching nerve in his body, Tony keeps going, ruttinginto Peter’s sloppy hole, even with the kid’s family standing less than a meteraway.
“I just fell-”
May crosses her arms: “Where’s Ned?”
Peter gags himself on the saliva pooling across his tongue. “He-he’s at his house.”
Tony readjusts his hands to spread Peter’s legs, pry hisknees apart to allow himself to continue chasing a climax. Sweaty feet slipping onthe floor, Tony’s mouth opens with a silent moan, too quiet for May to notice,but loud enough for Peter to hear. He clamps one hand over the other, both down on Tony’s mouth,his eyebrows implying that he’s about to orgasm, cum all over Tony’s bare, chiseled chesteven with his aunt watching.
“Why aren’t you with him? You said you were going to staywith him while I was gone-”
“I- I forgot something…Why… Why are you here?” Peter’s voicecracks, “You said you had some business out of town-”
Heart pounding against his ribcage, Tony enjoys the wayPeter writhes and wiggles above him, and although he knows he can’t speak, notwith May in the room, that doesn’t prevent him from licking at Peter’s saltypalms, sucking at small fingers when the boy accidentally dips a few digits intothe older man’s mouth. Peter’s ankles cross, knees bucking back together, butTony once again forces them apart, spreads and raises him just right, simplyenough to continue shoving his cock in and out of Peter at a shallow pace.
“Forgot something as well,” May replies, inspecting the front of the roomfor anything out of the ordinary, but with clothes stashed underneath the bed, there’s absolutelynothing she can spot that will give away the billionaire fucking her nephew. “Youpromised me you’d stay with Ned,” she adds. Mask disappearing, Peter feels as though he might throw up.
“Are you going to cum?” Tony coos hotly, coiling his tongue around Peter’sfingers, squeezing the boy’s hips with the force of what feels like a truck.
“I- I am-” Peter hiccups, simultaneously answering both Mayand Tony, and suddenly he feels dizzy.
“Alright, well once you get what you so desperately need, call me so Iknow you’re in good hands.” She turns on her heels, leaving the door open inher wake, rushing down the hall to claim her forgotten belongings. “I have to run, but promise me you’ll be a good boy.”
Tears welling in his eyes, unable to reply or speak at all,Peter falls speechless from how hard he’s attempting to hold himself back.
“You promised Petey Pie,” Tony growls, a bit louder thistime even though May is still in the apartment. “Are you going to be a goodboy? Are you going to cum like you said you would? Don’t be rude.”
Fists balling at the hem of his sweater, twisting andpulling at the soft fabric to stop himself from jerking his beautiful, little, leaking cock, Peter hesitates,but Tony’s already one step ahead of him, reaching out with a singular hand topull and fondle Peter’s dick. Peter notices Tony’s moving muscles and shakes his head, “N-No,Mr. Stark.. Tony- not with her-” he begs with half lidded eyes. He pouts, barely able to open chocolate eyes to witness Tony’s lustful grin.
Pushing aside the boy’s fighting wrists, Tony ignores him and once again begins pounding the boy, his strong, callused hands massaging Peter, and ina split second Peter’s moaning, cumming with the strength of a tsunami, babbling and sputtering as Tony paints his insides white…. all the while aunt May frolics about in the other room.
Also, starker mood of the day: peter having a huge crush on tony and not being able to be discreet abt it so he's always staring at tony a little too long when tony's not looking and getting blushy & avoiding his eyes when tony makes eye contact and peter keeps this behavior for weeks until tony confronts him about it asdggjkklvbnmj
“Do I have something on my face, Pete?” Tony asks, a handraising to rub his chin even though he knows the answer to his own question.Peter had been looking, watching, staring at him with such content and admirationfor weeks that it was beginning to become awkward, especially when Tony wouldlook at him, make eye contact, and every time the poor kid would turn away,always.
“What?” Peter lets out, stammering as he scratches the backof his chestnut-colored head.
“Is there something on my face you’d like to tell meabout? Something I can’t see?”
“Oh- uh, of coursenot,” Peter blushes, dusting over the rosiest shade of pink.
Tony shifts in his stance, arms folding over his chest, “Thenwhy were you gawking at me during that conference? Hm? Don’t act like you weren’tbecause I counted more than five instances in the last hour.”
Tony’s no liar, and Peter had been standing in the back ofthe room, eyes firmly attached to Tony’s face the entire time. “I wasn’tgawking!” the boy retaliates almost too fast to help his case, quite literallyannouncing his intentions had been to purposely observe Tony. Lowering his voiceas well as his eyes, he gazes down at the ground, rubbing his shoes together like alittle kid: “I wasn’t.. I wasn’t gawking…”
“Yes lovebug, and the sky isn’t blue.” Tony says quietly, gentlybut also mockingly because this behavior was nothing new, nothing foreign tothe eye. A pause and Peter was breaking, falling apart at the seams withbutterflies fluttering about in his stomach, “I. wasn’t. gawking.”
“So if you weren’t gawking, then what were you doing?”
Merely invited for his name, Tony hadn’t been the conferencespeaker. In fact, he hadn’t said a word at the gathering, and the only purpose regardinghis presence was to draw attention to the matter at hand. Peter could haverespectfully watched the commentator, connected words to a mouth, but he hadn’t.He didn’t. All because he absently chose to look over Tony with loving eyes, andthe older man didn’t know it, but Peter had fallen, tripped for him on day one,and since then hadn’t been able to crawl away, not when a smile looks as goodon Tony as it would the entire population of Earth combined.
“I was just…”
Tony tilts his head.
“Look, I don’t have to have this conversation with you rightnow,” Peter concludes, stepping aside to walk away, to leave the corner whereTony had pulled him aside.
Grabbing his wrist, Tony stops him, prevents him fromleaving, “You’re right. You don’t have to have this conversation with me rightnow, but I’m making you because I’m tired of it.”
“Tired of what?”
“Oh please,” Tony smacks his tongue, pushing Peter backinto place, “Do you honestly believe I haven’t noticed the way you stare?”
Shaking the caressing palm off his wrist, Peter holds hisbreath, and, pretending as though this weren’t happening, like he didn’t have thefattest crush in the world on his mentor, he continues to look away.
“You’re just… you.. you know..”
“Pardon me?” Lips pursing with intimidation, Tony againtucks his arms into a line. Breathing almost inconsistent, Peter sinks his teeth into into hischeek, and then he takes off, brushing shoulders with Tony as he tries to escape,but again Tony reaches out to him, this time intertwining his fingers withPeter’s, twisting himself around to meet the boy where his back once faced. “Whether you like it or not, we’rehaving this conversation, right here, right now.”
And so Peter sighs, loudly squeaking a shoe against the flooras he spins to look Tony in the eyes, barely letting the man turn around beforeallowing the flood gates to open, “Mr. Stark, do you know how good happinesslooks on you?”
Ready to pop off, to ask questions and demand answers, Tony’sgrasp on Peter’s fingers fades, and he softens, slowly standing upright, “..Excuseme?”
“You’re gonna make me say it aren’t you?” Peter questions,voice shaky.
Silence.
“God, you’re really gonna make me say it?” Fingers still locked with the other man’s, Peter brings hishand up and tightens his hold,clenching his palm against Tony’s pale warmth in search of something along the lines of comfort and strength.
“…When you smile.. it’s like the whole world stops to watch,including myself.” Peter starts softly, giving Tony relatively zero time beforecontinuing to spill his heart out. “You smile because you’re happy, and you maynot know it, but your eyes sparkle and your face lights up, and I smile becauseof that sparkle, because I know you’re happy, and it takes away any stress inmy body knowing that someone who has gone through so much torment, someone whohas experienced so much pain in his life, can still overcome the past and beam brighterthan any star in the sky… and when you do smile, it’s blinding, it’s the only thing I can see…but I’m not complaining; happiness has never looked better.”
Peter bites his tongue to stop himself from carrying on, butupon the realization that he just gave Tony more compliments than he’d probablyever received, he starts stammering again. “I’m sorry- That was long andprobably made no sense, and yeah I might have crush on you, and I know it’swrong and I shouldn’t, but when you smile I.. I can’t help but feel as thoughnothing can go wrong.”
In all honesty, that’s why Peter watches. He awaits the nexttime someone will crack a joke and make Tony laugh. He constantly sits on theedge of his chair, eager to catch a glimpse of Tony’s pearly, white grin, histiny dimples, the crinkles that form around his eyes when his lips curlupwards.
“And I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable by… by gawking…”Peter inhales, nearly running out of breath from how fast the words have beenflying out of his mouth. “You’re just perfect in every way, and you make me feelsafe.. and I’m sorry.”
In that moment, Tony, eyes wide and glossy, can’t help but ironicallysmile.
“Peter, I smile because of you.”
Anonymous asked:
{ Dub con warning, if you don't want to answer I'll understand 💛 } Please write something about Tony and Peter talking about asleep sex and they are like "yeah, guess it wouldn't bother me" so they challenge each other into making the other cum while he's sleeping. Please write something about both doing so, and thank you for all your work, honey!
*cracks knuckles bc this is a long one*
So yeah. Neither Tony nor Peter knew how they had made it tosuch a conversation, a deep talk in the middle of the night about drowsy sex,somnophilia, the idea of challenging the other to cum in his sleep. It just kind of happened, and in all honesty it’s notthe slightest bit surprising for either of them. Peter’s a competitive kid whowould eat a stapler if it meant impressing Tony, and Tony doesn’t back downfrom anything, a fight, an argument, a challenge to climax Peter Parker in themidst of a nice slumber, so it just works; it works for both of them. Of coursethat night nothing happened, nor did anything happen after that, at least notfor a while. It took weeks before either of them hinted at or did anything, andthat lousy conversation faded to nothing but dust, remnants constantly present,waiting to be remembered.
And Peter, the ever horny teenager he is, is the first toremember it. He’s always getting off. He touches himself daily, begs for Tonyto fill him up good, to skull fuck him until he can’t breath, so one night whenhe’s jerking himself it clicks; he remembers. Yeah he continues to beat himselfuntil he cums, but the thought of sucking Tony off sticks in his mind, thewarmth, the taste of Tony’s skin and fluid, he yearns to wrap his wet lipsaround Tony’s length, probably wants it more than Tony does, so he pines afterhim. He crawls from bed and leaves May’s apartment, it doesn’t matter that it’salmost 4am on a school night, and he gets into Tony’s place using voice recognition in the elevator, made in case Peter needed anything.. and this he needed. So heslips into the loft, Jarvis greets him, and he’s so frantic to shut the AI up;he shushes loudly, waving his arms around before finally searching for Tony.Lights dimmed, he’s lucky, because for once Tony’s actually asleep, but heisn’t tucked away in a bed under a few thin sheets, a single pillow restingbeneath his head. Instead, he’s penned in the lab, face propped up on hisforearms as he sits in a chair. Around him are tiny trinkets and many emptycups of coffee, undoubtedly dumb attempts to stay awake in order to finish a project.Peter almost feels bad, barging in, horny, wanting to get down and dirty.Tony probably hasn’t slept in days, and there he was, softly asleep at a labdesk, dreaming, floating.
All things said and done, Tony had given him the okay to makehim cum, so Peter would do so. Setting down his belongings, which are little innumbers because what else would a boy bring with him so late at night (or morningif you will), he tiptoes, weaving around the benches until he’s near Tony, andfor one of the most intelligent figures in the world, one might suspect themale to wake up, to sense that someone’s watching him, but he doesn’t. Peterknows Tony’s truly asleep by the gentle cooing and the rise and fall of his back,so he plops down to his knees, scooching on his hands until he’s underneath thedesk with a face full of crotch. There, Peter takes a deep breath before undoingthe top button to Tony’s pants, slowly prying them open with meticulousfingers, carefully pulling down the zipper, clenching his teeth as if his ownbreathing might wake the male, all the while desire begins to well in histhroat.
And Peter’s almond, baby dolleyes? Well they search Tony’s face the entire time, half expecting him to wake or stir,and he doubtlessly prays for no reaction at all; to his dismay, Tony continuessleeping, even with Peter’s cold hands gracing his warm skin, exposing themale’s dick to fresh air where the temperature differs and he’s sensitive themost. He sits there, crisscross beneath the table between Tony’s legs, facestuffed into the other’s groin, and he salivates on the spot, smacking andsucking his lips red, gulping down drool before it spills onto Mr. Stark’snice, clean floor. His movements start off small, tender and pleasant becausethe man above him is, after all, happily dozing, and the challenge is to makethe other cum in his sleep, so by waking him up Peter would fail and ultimatelylose. He begins by pumping Tony ever so slightly, just enough to ensure themale has zero intentions of waking, and Tony instantaneously grows hard. Theblood rushing south, Tony swells in Peter’s hands, and that’s the boy’s cue tosink his mouth down and around the girth before him. Keeping a steady palm justbelow his lips, a ring to build pressure, stimulate Tony, he gets him going. Hemoves closer, averting his gaze from Tony’s face to close his eyes, extend his neck to bob down, repeatedly lathing Tony’s length in hot spit with histongue. It’s sloppy, it’s messy, and there’s some drooling in the process, but he takes Tonyto the base, cheeks hollowing as he attempts to suck the sleeping male into aclimax. He nearly chokes himself on the inches deep in his mouth, Tony’s cockhitting the back of his throat when Peter tries to prove himself by taking itall, and he murmurs soft, muffled cries into Tony’s pants, yet he enjoys it so muchbecause he wanted it.
The feeling of having Tony buried inside him, whether it be inhis ass or heartily stuffed down his esophagus, it’s a craving, and it’s always so good, evenwhen Peter has to do the work. Dick twitching, Tony’s arousal painfully rises,and Peter had almost been too caught up in the moment to hear a quiet but raspygroan crawl from Tony’s lungs. Heartrate rapidly increasing, breathing graduallybecome brisk, Peter removes himself to look up at Tony. And boy oh boy, he cantell Tony’s starting to wake up, so he slows his hand, rolls his wrist overthe tip as he stares, holding his breath. Tony’s eyes purse, but Peter lowers histongue to meet a vein, lapping quietly as if Tony’s cock were alollipop and he were a kid in a candy store.
“Shh,shh-” Peter sighs out, massaging Tony’s leg, but Tony’s turned the fuck on, andeven in his sleep he’s ready to fuck, so his hips start rising and his mouth fallsopen, teeth grinding painstakingly slow as he awaits the heat of Peter’s mouthto return. And was that? A moan? It’s the hottest thing ever, the low soblamenting Tony’s breathing when Peter gags himself by slapping his mouth backdown.
Hislids may be closed, but Peter can tell Tony’s eye movement is on the rise, andjudging by the quick little gasps coming from above him, Tony’s definitelyclose, but this is Peter we’re talking about here, and Peter’s not allowed towin, so you know.. he fucks up. He’s so passionate about sucking off Mr. Starkthat he hits his head on the table, bumps directly into the desk with a loudthump, and that’s when Tony jolts upright, automatically swinging his head downto look at Peter pressed so kindly between his knees. It takes him a moment, yethe knows what’s happening.
“Oh-Mr. Stark- I just-” Poor Peter stops playing with Tony’s precum.
Tony nonchalantlyyawns, over-sexualizing a moan as he stretches his muscles, rubbing his eyes to get rid of the white blurs in his vision. You were just? What? Accidentally choking on my dick? Is what he would like to say, but he’s tootired, and Peter looks pretty with his glossy, lustful eyes and bashfully pink cheeks. He may have lost; however, that doesn’t preventTony from letting the kid finish. Actually, he makes him finish. He rolls thechair backwards, hands stashed neatly behind his head, and he demands Peter come outfrom under the desk. He tells him to continue out in the open where thelighting is better, where Tony can watch the magic happen: “Afterwards, you’re going homesweetpea. Don’t wanna be late for school.” He’d probably wink, Peter might pout, and after that it takes another few weeks for Tony to strike, to take hisshot at making Peter cum in his sleep.
That day, Tony made sure to overwork Peter. The kid had already made rounds in the city, but Tony wanted to take it a step further, exhaust him to guarantee Peter’d pass out as soon as he hit the sheets, and it works. After a day out in town, a solid walk in the park and a hefty dinner date, Peter crashes hard. Tony made sure to take the boy back to his place, specifically because he wasn’t going to break into the kid’s apartment to get him off, and as soon as Peter lays down to rest his eyes, he’s out cold. Tony had purposely gone to the kitchen to get himself a drink, so imagine him poking his smug head around the corner, tsking because boo boo the fucking fool Peter’s asleep and they’re all alone. He sets his glass down on the nightstand and leisurely joins Peter on the bed, at first sitting along the edge, and once positive the boy’s not going to move, he snakes over to Peter’s faintly purring body. With Tony’s palms pressed on either side of the kid’s head, Peter sleeps on his stomach, which is perfect because that gives Tony enough freedom to caress the kid’s ass. One knee digging into the mattress, he kisses the back of Peter’s neck, and when Peter breathes, Tony glides a few fingers down the boy’s spine, trailing to his behind where he easily pulls down the kid’s jeans, uncovering his bare ass just enough for Tony to play with it. Skin milky, he grabs, pushing his hand between the groove of Peter’s ass, feeling and prodding the teen’s cheeks, raising the kid’s shirt to look at the dimples imprinting his hips. Peter doesn’t move, he sleeps heavily, so after caressing the boy for a few minutes Tony spits, stringing saliva down, prepping Peter the best way he can before rimming the kid with his tongue. He’s quick to adjust Peter’s body, position him so that his legs spread just right, and he eats him out, licking his hole, dipping his tongue into the heat as he lifts the boy’s hips to meet his face.
Peter mewls and nuzzles further into the pillows, his little cock attempting to rut for some friction, and Tony can’t wait any longer sohesimplyskipsthefingering and slowly but surely edges his dick into Peter’s lifeless, sleeping body. He’s tight, tighter than Tony’s ever felt, but that’s because he usually shoves a couple of fingers into the kid’s ass before doing anything. This time though, that was out the window. Tony leans forward, massaging the nape of Peter’s neck, softly whispering things to keep him asleep, and Peter’s walls clench. He whimpers, eyebrows furrowing like he’s having an agonizing dream, and while Tony slides the rest of his erection in, Peter’s jaw hangs with a mouthy moan. His breathing hitches, but Tony keeps going, stopping when he can’t go any more, and then he pulls himself out. It’s difficult not to let out dirty talk, especially with how hard Peter’s pulling on Tony’s cock, and when Tony thinks Peter’s becoming restless, he wraps an arm around the boy to massage at the covered bulge that lies between his legs.
“It’s alright baby boy,” he whispers into Peter’s ear, calmly bringing his hips back. “You’re alright, it’s just me.”
And Peter starts to sleep talk all whiney and pleading, “Mr.. are you-”
“Shh, go back to sleep.” Tony plants a kiss between Peter’s shoulder blades, earning another sigh from Peter’s pretty throat. “Daddy’s going to take care of you, but he wants you to go back to sleep.”
Peter smacks his tongue against his lips, sounding like he’s in need of a large glass of water, but he’s a good boy so he obeys and curls his neck back into the mattress.
“That’s daddy’s boy,” Tony replies in the softest octave possible.
Other than the light sound of skin on skin, the room is silent, and Tony chooses his movements wisely. He pleases Peter, sucks on his neck, thumbs his dick and rubs pink nipples from beneath the kid’s shirt; he knows he’s hitting Peter’s prostate when the teen’s body moves forward with quiet sighs, and although Tony’s thrusting is soft and sweet, the breaking of his wrist over Peter’s dick is not. In size, his hand is overpowering, not to mention unrelenting, and Tony’s not going to lose to this kid, so he viciously forces himself into Peter’s body, leaving his dick to fill the boy while he palms him till he cums. Peter actually cries out, lifting his head off the pillow while he spews into his pants, staining them with white, and afterwards, when Tony pulls out to cover his ass in a similar shade, Peter continues sleeping, face down, ass up, and Tony wins like he usually does.