PrincessParkerxo

She/Her - 100% Princess 18 + Content on this blog - Peter is 18+ also -

[cagestark]

The Rest it Kills

About this: ballerina!peter and mobster!tony. Starker. Physical and emotional between established quentin beck/peter parker. 

THIS IS UNFINISHED. Anyone is welcome to continue it. 

-

“FRIDAY, baby? Do you have the shot?”

-

It’s a celebration, which does nothing to explain why the room gets quiet as soon as Tony enters it. Around the table are four of his best and brightest, the handful of underlings that were instrumental in helping Tony execute his vision of how to repay Adrian Toomes for encroaching upon his weapons market. For a job well done, he’d invited them up to the penthouse to have at his expensive collection of spirits. 

He’d left them alone for only a half hour to make a few calls, but now upon his return they were shifty eyed and babbling about something inconsequential, a sure sign that they had hastily changed the subject. 

“Alright,” Tony says, pouring himself a glass of scotch. “Out with it. I’m a paranoid bastard at best. At worst?—well. Ask Toomes.” 

“It’s nothing bad, Tony,” Rogers says. If the fact that Rogers hadn’t told a lie his entire life didn’t put Tony at ease, then his clear eyes and voice did. Rogers was his number two, and they got on thick as thieves. He’s about as likely to lie to Tony as the sun is not to rise.

“Then I’m not angry,” Tony says, taking the empty seat. “But now I’m curious. Which is worse?” 

“Angry,” Wilson says in that deadpan way that Tony just adores. 

“Come on, don’t leave me in suspense,” Tony says, finishing his scotch with a single gulp. He pours himself another. 

It’s Romanov who—doesn’t break, per say. Tony isn’t convinced that there’s anything that could break Natasha, though if they were on opposite sides, he might have a few places he’d be willing to start. She must weigh the pros and cons and decide that letting Tony in on their little secret is the best move. Whether it’s best for her, for them, or for someone else, Tony can’t say. 

She shifts and pulls out a piece of paper folded in half and tosses it across the table. Barnes and Rogers groan. 

“Nat, you rat,” Barnes says. 

“Wow,” she says, eyes glittering. “That rhymed, Bucky. It was beautiful.” 

“What the fuck is this?” Tony wonders out loud as he unfolds the paper. It turns out to be nothing extraordinary. It’s a program for the New York City Ballet. The ballet is something new by Ratmansky, with principal dancers MAXIMOFF/PARKER. “Ballet? Taking up a new hobby, Barnes?” 

“I thought I’d look great in the tights,” is all Barnes says. A deflection if Tony’s ever heard one. 

Keep reading

[cagestark]

-Unfinished-

That’s the title, btw.

About this: Stuckony, college!au with older Tony. NFF. 9.4k. Minor CBT, daddy kink, spanking mentioned. 

-

“Steve - 3 o’clock.” 

Steve doesn’t tilt his head up from where he is looking at his phone, but behind his dark tinted sunglasses, Bucky knows that his blue eyes are scanning the crowd that crosses the southern sidewalk of the quad. Bucky knows when Steve has spotted the man in question because his mouth parts enough for a breathy exhale, tongue wetting his lower lip. 

“God,” Steve murmurs. “No chance he’s a student.” 

“Forties,  you think?” Not that there aren’t students of all ages moving on campus today, but there are no bags by his side, no pack slung over his shoulder, no sense of eager urgency as he stands watching the afternoon sun play off the fountain that’s dead center of the open, grassy area. Faculty or family, Bucky thinks.

“Couldn’t say for certain,” Steve says. “Wouldn’t say for certain. Jesus, he looks good.” 

“Better than good, come on, admit it.”

“What makes you think he’s interested?” 

“No wife at his side,” says Bucky. “But more importantly, no straight man is stylish enough to wear boots like that.” 

Steve gives a long suffering sigh. He slips his phone into his back pocket, and Bucky takes the moment to admire the way his boyfriend’s shirt clings tightly to his biceps. Buying Steve shirts is a chore, always too loose around his trim waist and always too tight across his chest and arms. A chore, but no crime. At least, not one Bucky’s suffering from. “Well,” says Steve. “Should we introduce ourselves? ‘S only polite.” 

Bucky gives a shark’s grin. 

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[send-me-your-hcs]

Dinner is served

Based on this by @satanic-starker ♥ Hope you enjoy, friend.

Warnings: consensual somnophilia, utter and explicit filth.

There’s a text waiting for Tony when he steps off the plane: Come straight home. I’ll have dinner ready for you.

Keep reading

[unsettledreads]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Captain America (Movies) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark, James “Bucky” Barnes/Tony Stark, James “Bucky” Barnes/Peter Parker/Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, James “Bucky” Barnes, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), James “Rhodey” Rhodes, Steve Rogers Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Starker, winteriron, WinterIronSpider, Adult Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Fluff and Smut, Size Kink, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Dom/sub Undertones, Bottom Peter Parker, Top Tony Stark, Romance, Mutual Pining, Smut, Gay Sex, Polyamory, Getting Together Summary:

For the anon who wanted a prompt based on this:

TIL Milton Berle, considered America’s first TV star, had a massive penis. In his autobiography, Berle tells of a man who accosted him in a steam bath and challenged him to compare sizes, leading a bystander to remark, “go ahead, Milton, just take out enough to win”

[obligatorynasty]

Prompt, if you're willing. Tony watches the Iron Man armor fuck Peter.

This is honestly just smut for smut’s sake. Hope you enjoy, anon. <3

-

Overdriven to your Limits

Peter wasn’t easy to please but Tony always tried his best. He may be a graying – very much human – old man but he knew his way around Peter Parker. He knew about the sensitive spot behind his ear that never failed to make him whine. He knew how he liked to be eaten out; a little tongue around the rim and the kid would become putty in his hands. He knew how hard he would come when massaged on the silt of his cock. He knew how to finger ten orgasms out of him, and make him beg and cry for another, even if it was dry. He knew exactly how to whisper in his ear; all the filthiest sweet nothings that would make his whole body shudder.

And those hours of foreplay were often enough for his young, super-enhanced boyfriend. The actual fucking part had become nothing but a twenty-minute reward to himself for getting Peter to that sensory overloaded state of bliss. Just rocking in and out of his boy’s flushed, trembling body and being begged to come because the feeling was just too much – hell, ‘reward’ might not do it justice.

Yes, with Tony’s practiced hands, the difference between their stamina was usually negligible.

Usually.

Yet, in the past few days, Peter had become obsessed with testing his limits; wanting to come just from being fucked. He was convinced, with his hyper-senses, no foreplay was needed. He brought it up every chance he got – in the lab, during dinner, in the shower, before bed, everywhere – and after a week, Tony knew he couldn’t talk his way out of this one. So, instead, he spent a night in the lab, working tirelessly on a special protocol for the suit’s nanobots. Something that would satisfy his young lover’s desires and make for one hell of a show.

The next morning, Tony texted Peter to come to the lab, asking the kid to arrive prepared and promising him a pleasureful surprise if he did. He knew from the sound of the shower turning on that his message was met with excitement and, only a half-hour later, Peter was eagerly strolling into the lab.

“Tony?” He called out, glancing around the quiet space. “I did what you asked. I’m ready for the surprise.” He took a few more steps. “Tony?” He repeated as he stepped exactly where Tony wanted him.

And, all at once, the five suits that were docked against the wall came alive and rushed Peter, gripping his arms and legs, bending him over and rendering him immobile.

Peter gave a flirtatious giggle. “Oh, this is a nice surprise,” He smiled, unfazed by the sudden ambush. “Fucking me in the suit, hm?” He asked, turning his head to glance at the only suit not holding him in place.

“You’re almost right,” Tony answered as he stepped into the room, the direction of his voice catching Peter off-guard. “I’m actually going to watch the suit fuck you.” He grinned as he pulled a chair from a lab table directly in front of Peter.

“What?” Peter squinted, clearly unsure about the specifics of Tony’s plan. “The suit? How? What did you do?”

“Wrote a little protocol just for you, sweetheart,” Tony leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Peter’s forehead, grinning as he pulled away. “Since you wanted to be fucked so badly. Fri, run protocol overdrive for me, would you?”

With Friday’s simple yes boss, Peter’s jeans and boxers were being dragged to his ankles by a cool metal hand.

“Tony,” Peter gasped and struggled against the strength of the suits, testing how strong they really were. “Tony, wait,” He whined, quickly realizing that his strength wasn’t enough to get free. “Tony,” He whimpered as lube suddenly fell against his entrance. “Tony-!”

“Color?” Tony whispered, his hand gently carding through his boy’s locks.

Peter blushed, staring at Tony with submissive eyes as he muttered a soft, “Green.”

“Good, let me know if that changes, and feel free to scream all you want,” Tony smiled and leaned back in the chair, getting comfortable while Peter tensed.

The suit had begun sliding inside. Its nanobot cock penetrating deeper than even Tony could reach and, just like everything the man built, the flexibly smooth metal cock was a feat of engineering that knew exactly where to thrust. “Fuck,” Peter breathed out, his voice pitching higher as the suit wasted no time in brutalizing his prostate, falling into a restless pace that showed no signs of faltering – it was the perk of machines.

Tony licked his lip, staring at Peter’s already dripping erection. He wondered how long it would take to utterly wreck the boy. Turns out it would be quicker than he thought. After only ten short minutes, Peter’s first orgasm came with a deep moan, trembling legs, and two thick streams of cum against the floor.

That was when the fun began.

Remember, Tony knew his way around Peter Parker and, in his experience, the moment after that first orgasm was everything to his hyper-sensitive little spider. “Let’s pick up a pace,” He commanded and the suit obliged, speeding its thrusts despite Peter’s protest.

“Tony, that’s-” Peter’s voice caught in his throat as the intensity of the pleasure burned through his senses.  

“That’s what?” Tony teased,

“Too much,” Peter whimpered, his face flushed pink and damp with sweat as his curls bounced back and forth with each thrust. “It’s too much, I’ll—” He paused, eyes squeezing shut as the next one hit him, shock-waving through his frame like the aftermath of an explosion. “—come.” He groaned through clenched teeth, his head weakly drooping down and his body weight slumping against the other suits.

“Color?” Tony asked, reaching to tilt his young lover’s chin upwards.

Peter bit his lip and exhaled slow, “Green.”

“Then let’s continue.”

And they did. For two hours. Milking Peter for untouched orgasms, seemingly, with no end in sight. The first two were white, sticky, and made a mess of the floor. The next few were just clear squirts that paired with the most addicting moans Peter could muster. The recent two were nothing but dribbles. And Tony could tell that they were getting there – to the dry ones.

“Faster,” Tony commanded.

“Tony, wait, I can’t-!” Peter screamed as another orgasm rocked through him and left him breathless. It had come to that point, where even his enhanced body was convinced it couldn’t handle anymore. His skin felt scorched by pleasure, nerve endings sparking with a sweet pain as his muscles spasmed in a dry climax. “Tony,” He whimpered, just barely able to lift his head and lock eyes with the man in front of him. “No more, stop, I can’t, I-”

Once again, like a broken record, Tony asked, “Color?”

And Peter took a deep breath as the suit momentarily slowed its pace, “Green.”

Tony smiled, “How many times now?”

“W-What?” Peter spoke through a ragged breath.

“How many times have you come?”

“I-I don’t know,” Peter stuttered as the suit picked up speed. “A lot.”

“Count the next three,” Tony ordered. “And then we’ll stop.”

“T-Three?” Peter repeated, wide-eyed and exhausted.

“Three,” Tony leaned forward, cupping Peter’s face in his palms. “They’re going to be fast, okay?”

“Okay,” Peter muttered, eyes full of trust as he tilted his cheek against Tony’s hand.

“Max speed,” Tony called out, and much to his surprise, Peter managed to climax after just two of the high-speed thrusts.

“One!” Peter loudly groaned, his voice echoing against the lab walls and mixing with the pistoning sound of the suit’s rapid motions. The over-stimulation had him tearing up, staring at Tony with wet eyes.

“Color?”

“Green!” Peter screamed as those tears started escaping down his cheeks and the next orgasm punched him in the gut. “T-Two!” As his voice shook, so did his resolve.  “Tony, I can’t, no more, too much-”

“You keep saying no,” Tony whispered. “But how do you really feel, hm?” He asked as he thumbed away the tears. “Go on, tell me.”

Peter was panting, “Tony, I’m not-”

“And be honest, sweetheart,” Tony leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Peter’s. “Or I’ll keep it going for another three.”

“It-” Peter whined. “It feels so g-good!” He cried out, more tears rolling down his cheeks as he whimpered and moaned. “It’s so fucking good, Tony!” He inhaled sharp, breathing out a strained, vulnerable and desperate, “Thank you, thank you, thank you...fuck!” His eyes shot open and, just as quickly, squeezed shut, “Tony, I’m coming-!” He choked out as the intensity of the pleasure left him completely still until it didn’t, and tremors of ecstasy flooded his muscles, and he let out a scream louder than all his others.

“Fri, end protocol overdrive.”

All at once, the suits released him and let his wrecked frame drop into Tony’s open arms. He had bruises that were already starting to heal, and his legs were shaking, and his breath was heavy, and his big brown eyes were so far blissed out that Tony wasn’t sure if he was even present anymore. “Hey,” Tony whispered, threading a gentle hand through his boy’s curls and holding him tightly with the other. “Come back to me.”

Peter gave a low groan and slowly lifted his head from Tony’s shoulder. “I can’t walk.” His voice was hoarse, “And I want water and a bath and ice cream and—“ He dropped his head back down. “—a lot of affection too.”

Tony smiled and lifted Peter into his arms, carrying him bridal-style towards the lab’s elevator. “I think I can arrange that.”

“And Star Wars,” Peter quickly added with a lazy smile. “I want to watch Star Wars.”

And Tony just nodded, “Anything you want, Peter.”

[tony-is-my-daddy]

WoW that was hot... overstimulated Peter is the best, fr, and I love how cute he was at the end when he said he wants affection.

It's just sO GOOD

[starker-sorbet]

soft romantic starker

[cagestark]

A Hole in the Head//7

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven

Read here on AO3.

I’ve been inactive and some have been worried; everything is fine, I’m just waiting until some irl things clear up. I *am* writing though. Hope this makes up for my absence even a little bit?

About this: nff. Slut-shaming. Sub-drop. General rough and meanness lmao.

-

He drags Peter off of the couch, one hand wide enough to cradle the back of Peter’s head to avoid letting his skull kiss the floor. Drunk off of arousal, Peter doesn’t fight back, instead arches into the contact so that his hard cock drags along the older man’s, a low desperate sound slipping free from his throat. 

“What are you doing?” Peter breathes, hopeful. Bucky settles between Peter’s thighs (and the stretch in them is absolutely delicious; it’s borderline obscene how wide they have to spread to accommodate the other man) and humps down into the warm cradle of his legs, causing fireworks to explode behind Peter’s eyes. “Not that I’m complaining—oh fuck, please don’t stop—” 

“Tell me everything you know about what Tony was saying on the phone,” Bucky growls. Peter cracks his eyes open at the strange request. Above him, Bucky’s hair is a dark curtain that parts around them, blocking out the rest of the world. His face is set, jaw clenched. At his hesitation, Bucky grinds downward again and the friction has his eyes rolling. “Tell me, or I’ll stop and leave you here like this.” 

Keep reading

[professional-benaddict]

🌸 daddy’s prettiest, sweetest and most adorable little play thing 👑

[cagestark]

Hey Cagey, I hope life is treating you well. Tomorrow's my birthday so I was wondering if I could get a teeny tiny FIC of WinterIron? Anything smutty would make my heart whole. If not that's okay too, just hope your doing well. Sending all my love ❤️

Happy birthday ;)

About this: winteriron. Professor!Bucky, student!Tony. Blackmail. Rough oral sex. 

-

Bucky shifts the stack of files in his arms, using one hip to jolt open his office door and one elbow to reach the lightswitch. It’s years of well-honed instincts that keep him from dropping the papers at the sight of the figure slouched in the chair in front of his desk. A familiar figure, who turns to give him a familiar smirk at the sight of Bucky in the doorway. 

“Mister Stark,” Bucky says flatly. “Office hours have ended.”

“Did they?” Tony asks, sitting up. He glances down to the Rolex on his wrist. “Well. You know, it’s hard to see one’s watch in the dark.” 

“Something that could have easily been fixed by turning on the light. I’m going to have to ask you to leave, Mister Stark. If you have questions over today’s material, you can send me an email.” 

“Aren’t you going to come in?” Tony asks, eyes glittering. He must know the sight he makes to Bucky, his dress shirt open at the collar, hair rumpled, mouth full and red. Tony Stark knows how attractive he is. Worse, he knows how attractive Bucky finds him and has been leveraging it against him ever since. “After all,” Tony continues. “This is your office.” 

“Leave, Stark,” says Bucky. Before I do something I’ll regret, he thinks. 

“I’ll be quick,” Tony promises, dark eyes growing wide and guileless at Bucky’s stern tone. “I just wanted an upcoming event that I couldn’t find on the course schedule.” 

Sighing, Bucky gives one last glance to the empty hallway. This is most assuredly a trap, but Tony has always had a way of finding the cracks in Bucky’s armor, of wedging himself in like the head of a crowbar and leveraging himself until Bucky feels on the verge of shattering. He steps in against his better judgement, sitting the stack of files on the nearest cabinet. The door falls shut—where the hell is the stopper that will prop it open? Gone from its usual spot. Stolen, Bucky suspects. 

“Be quick, Stark,” Bucky snaps. 

“Got a hot date tonight, Professor?” Tony asks. 

Bucky sits down heavily in the chair on the other side of his desk—better to keep that between them, a silent reminder of their statuses and the separation that must be maintained. The look he gives Tony must be scathing and unimpressed judging by the grimace the younger man gives him. Still got it, Bucky thinks to himself. “Which event isn’t on the schedule?” 

“Your impending termination of employment.” 

It is silent enough to hear a pin drop. 

“Is that so?” Bucky responds cooly. “Then I see where the mistake was made, because I’ve been given no notice of dismissal from the board.” 

Tony smiles, leaning back in his chair. Cocky, he puts one expensive loafer up on Bucky’s desk and then the other. “I haven’t filed my grievance yet. You know how they sent out the teacher assessment forms to select students? Well imagine my delight when the board wanted me to assess your class. To assess you. I haven’t decided what I’m going to say yet. Did you corner me after class and hit on me? Were we in your office when you came on to me, propositioned me, said you’d give me a glowing recommendation if I’d only get on my knees and suck your cock? The options are endless. I’ve always had a flair for the dramatic and honestly, I’m eager to put it to use—” 

Bucky is nearly stunned. “I never would have thought that you’d sink so low, Stark.”

“Honest mistake. Next time, don’t underestimate me,” Tony says brightly.

“Why?” Bucky says through his clenched teeth. “Why would you lie to them and have my job, my certificate taken away? Because I won’t keep turning you down? Because I won’t fuck you? Are you really so desperate?” 

“Yes,” Tony says easily, sitting up and letting his feet fall back to the floor. He leans in closer than Bucky would like, close enough for him to see the darker brown ring around the whiskey of his irises. “I’m desperate. And I know you’re desperate. You fucking want me. I’m just trying to give you the incentive you need to take me. I’ll give you glowing marks all down the line. I’ll never say a word against you. Just give in already.” 

“You’re fucking despicable,” Bucky says. He slides the chair back from the desk, putting space between them that does nothing to abate the fury in Bucky’s blood nor the heat pooling in his gut. It takes several deep breaths for him to keep his temper, for him to turn his eyes to Tony and find the young, relentless student watching him, smug. “Well?” Bucky snaps. “You want me so bad? You’re so desperate for it? Get on your knees.” 

Tony’s eyes widen fractionally, any last shred of doubt in him that this would work brushed away in the face of Bucky’s rough words. He scrambles down onto his knees, crawling around the desk and into the space between Bucky’s thighs. Bucky looks down at him, face twisted with malice. But his shame is obvious, tenting at his dress slacks. 

“I have places to be,” Bucky says cruelly. “Open your mouth and put it to use for once in your fucking life.”

Thin, capable fingers nimbly unbuckle Bucky’s belt, too eager to do anything but press either end aside and reach for the button and zipper. His fingers brush against Bucky’s cock, pleasurable zaps of electricity that have him taking in deep, slow breaths to try and maintain his control. He looks up towards the ceiling begging forgiveness from whatever cruel deity put Tony Stark in his path. Can’t believe I’m doing this, he thinks to himself. 

Then Tony is pulling Bucky’s stiff cock from his boxers. Bucky keeps his eyes on the younger man’s face, watching as Tony assesses him with clever eyes: the flushed head, the thick shaft, the neatly trimmed pubic hair at the base. Reaching out, Bucky threads his fingers into Tony’s unmanageable hair and tugs hard. “I hope this isn’t the first cock you’ve sucked,” he says. “Because I’m not going to go easy on you.” 

“I don’t want you to,” Tony says, eyes half-lidded. “Use me, Professor. God knows you fucking need to get laid.” 

“Open your mouth,” Bucky hisses through his teeth. For once, Tony does as ordered, and Bucky slips past those wicked lips into liquid heat that burns his cock in the best way. A sound is torn from deep in his chest against his will, and when Tony’s eyes flash up at him victoriously, Bucky pulls the head of dark hair down just to fuck the expression clean off. Tony’s mouth is good for more than just snark and flirtation, Bucky learns. He keeps his lips closed tight to create a seal that only increases the pressure around his cock when Bucky pulls Tony’s head back. His tongue works to caress the shaft, but the finesse is lost in the brutality of Bucky’s thrusts, fucking up into Tony’s mouth with a vigor that has tears welling up in those dark eyes. The sounds are obscene, wet gags and stifled, choking coughs, the likes of which squeeze Bucky’s cockhead in a way that has his teeth clenching tight. 

One of Tony’s hands slaps at Bucky’s thigh. 

Bucky draws back for a moment to slap his cock lightly against Tony’s cheek, watching with dark pleasure as he gasps for air. 

“Don’t you fight me now, kid,” Bucky says, hooking a thumb over Tony’s bottom teeth to pull him back in. “You wanted this, you’re going to take it.” 

Tony’s eyes roll, a groan vibrating around Bucky’s cock. The mouth around him relaxes further, throat opening to let Bucky in a fraction deeper, the expression on Tony’s face a cross of bliss and agony. When he glances down, Bucky sees that Tony’s hips are aimlessly thrusting against nothing but air, cock hard and untouched. The sight sends the simmer in his stomach boiling, his balls drawing up, desperate for a release that (Tony is right) has been a long time in coming. 

“I’m going to cum and you’re going to swallow every last fucking drop, do you hear me, Stark? You get a single drop on my suit and you’re going to be licking it up.” A weak vibration around his cock is the only answer, Tony’s eyes fluttering as Bucky gives a few last brutal thrusts, pulling back just far enough to cum in Tony’s mouth instead of down his throat. It’s the hardest he’s cum since he was just a teenager, body seizing up tight as his cock shoots its spend. The sound that comes from him is almost unrecognizable, something primal and so, so satisfied. Tony latches his lips around the head, sucking him clean, swallowing in hefty gulps. 

Tony finally sits back on his heels. His hair is even more a mess, his mouth red and swollen from the fucking he was given, his eyes heavy-lidded. One of his hands reaches down between his own legs, gripping the impression of his cock and squeezing tightly. 

“Hands off,” Bucky snaps. 

“Professor,” Tony groans, voice wrecked. “Please let me cum. Please.” 

Bucky straightens a leg, guides it between Tony’s until his shin brushes Tony’s hardon. “Don’t ever say I didn’t do anything for you, kid. Rub off on me. Thrust your hips—there you go. Good boy. That’s how you take orders, Stark. That’s how you follow instructions. Where’s this obedience any other time? Jesus, are you about to cum already? What a hair trigger.” 

Tony cums with a stifled shout, back arching obscenely so that he can drag his twitching cock against the firmness of Bucky’s leg, entire body shaking with the force of his orgasm. Bucky’s own cock gives a twitch. Jesus, but he’s wanted the kid. In all his years teaching at the university, and he’s never given in to any attraction to his students. Until today. 

Standing abruptly, Bucky leaves Tony shuddering on the floor while he comes down. He stalks to the file cabinet by the door and sifts through the files, searching, searching, until at last he plucks one free and opens it. 

Bucky clears his throat. “Tony Stark, student-teacher assessment for Professor J. Barnes, submitted this afternoon at a quarter past twelve. Five stars in all categories. I especially liked your note at the end: Mr. Barnes demonstrates an obvious mastery of his subject and an empathetic investment in his students. He obviously wants each of us to succeed, and does whatever he can to see it come to fruition. He is an asset to the university. Very eloquent, Tony.” 

The younger man gapes up at him. “You, you knew I was bluffing? They aren’t supposed to give you those with our student information on them,” Tony croaks.

“Good thing they did, or I might have been anxious. Next time you try to blackmail me, don’t be a fucking idiot about it. Now get up, clean yourself up, and get the hell out of my office.”

[iloveyou3thousand]

Full prompt: Peter having to sit on Tony’s lap bc there’s no place to sit and is really wiggly and tony coming in his pants

ehehe 👀 yes

—————————————————————————————

Peter doesn’t really have anywhere else to sit. Tony knows that.

Not comfortably, anyway. And Tony won’t allow him to just take up residence on the cold, hard floor. He’s nice like that, giving Peter the opportunity to instead take a seat right there in his lap as if it was such a big sacrifice for Tony to make.

But Peter, sweet, innocent Peter, with all his energy and his near-perpetual need to move as if possessed by an unknown force of sorts, can’t seem to sit still even when he’s perched on Tony’s thighs with his ass oh so perfectly fitted against Tony’s groin.

And he doesn’t notice a thing. He doesn’t notice how Tony shifts beneath him every now and then, trying to reposition Peter in his lap to give him an inch or two more to work with. Unfortunately, just about every time that Tony moves Peter to allow himself a bit of a breather, Peter is quick to slide right back up against him.

He has to have no idea of what he’s doing. That’s Tony’s conclusion. Because if he did know, then he probably wouldn’t be so eager to sidle up to him like that and get all cozy resting against his chest.

Not that Tony doesn’t appreciate the closeness. It could have come at a more opportune time though.

Every time Peter laughs, he shakes, and every time he leans forward or explains something very animatedly, he shifts, and while Tony isn’t too happy with the progression of events, his dick is.

It takes far too little for Peter to be able to turn him on on a regular basis, but now he’s also wearing a pair of very lovely shorts that hug his thighs and ass in a way that has Tony’s eyes linger more than usual – and he moves against him so…fucking well.

Tony really thought that he had more self-restraint, but as it turns out he really doesn’t. He’s hard like a rock in minutes, but luckily the front of his jeans is already usually pretty stiff, so the added hardness beneath the surface shouldn’t bother Peter too much, or even inform him of what is happening right against him.

It’s embarrassing, but surely it’ll go away when Peter actually sits still for a minute and lets Tony catch his breath.

But Peter doesn’t sit still. He’s participating in a conversation with the people around him that Tony already long since lost track of, using grand gestures to illustrate his points and laughing along to what is being said. Tony usually enjoys a bit of suffering, but just a little bit of torture can be fun, but this is downright menacing.

He’s so tempted to put his hands on Peter’s hips and use the grip for leverage, but he’s sure that if he pulls Peter down now he’ll really ruin any chance he has at potentially entering a relationship with him. And truth be told, that’s what Tony’s been after for the longest time. Not actively, because he’s a scaredy cat and is convinced that Peter can do better – but that doesn’t stop him from wanting. But it will remain just that.

Just that, and an inevitable stain in his pants. Yep. He’s getting there.

Tony has to grip either side of his chair in order to a) stay seated and b) refrain from touching Peter. It’s getting harder and harder to keep his hands off – no pun intended – but he’s doing alright considering that Peter is grinding against his erection with every tap of his foot (which is a nervous tic slash habit of his) and every one of those pretty laughs that bubbles up his throat.

Tony tries to squeeze his thighs together when he feels it build and build and build but it’s too late.

His head falls forward against Peter’s back, just between his shoulder blades, and he desperately tries to keep his shuddering to a minimum. He can’t help but tremble though. Peter is still sitting against his cock, which is twitching pathetically against the lining of his underwear. The now damp lining of his underwear, no less. Peter – bless him – pauses to half twist around in Tony’s lap and look at him over his shoulder and ask; “Is everything alright, Mr. Stark? Do you need me to get off?”

Maybe, but not in the way I assume you mean. Tony gives Peter a tight-lipped but polite smile.

For now, he needs to excuse himself, and try his best not to think of getting to return the favor.

[cagestark]

You got it, penguin <3 

About this: WIS, nff. Minor CBT. Minor daddy kink.

This fits 100% into my A Hole in the Head universe. 

-

Bucky brings pain. The best, worst pain, until Peter feels like he’s dancing on a knife’s edge, desperate and dreading to fall in either direction lest it end. His sex life with Tony (while helplessly hot and satisfying) had become something familiar. Peter knows the touch of his hands, the heft of his palm coming down on the meat of his ass, the sting as he drags the line of his teeth over Peter’s sensitive nipples. 

Now comes Bucky, and suddenly Peter feels virginal under the assassin’s focus. The experiences are new, and they leave him raw, cracked open. And it all happens under Tony’s watchful, dark eyes. 

The older man was content to only spectate to put Bucky at ease, to show him that his acts with Peter wouldn’t bring about any consequences. Bucky had acted dog let loose from his chain, eager to see what he could get away with. Nightly he pushed against Peter’s boundaries more and more, always casting his stormy pale gaze to the corner as if to say, You see what I do to your boy? 

Tony’s eyes just glitter back, Our boy.

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[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

Let Us Feel, Not Understand

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark (Starker) Rating: Mature (M) Word Count: 4.5k Notes: This came from the prompt ‘“ this room’s so hot ” - forced marriage a/o starker.’ Oh, nonnie - you must have been reading my mind. I had a good time with this one, hope you enjoy it!  Warnings: NSFW things - knotting, bonding marks. Summary:

Peter never imagined Ben and May would sell his mating contract to the highest bidder - yet, there he was 18 and on the verge of marrying a man he’s never met.

Or: Tony strikes a deal to appease the board of SI and Peter reaps the benefits.

do the thing - send in all the prompts.

When it first happened, Peter didn’t think too much about presenting as an omega. He paid attention enough in sex-ed to understand the dynamics of his physiology – heats every 3 months until mated and then every 6 months after that. Of course, experiencing his first heat wasn’t anything to write home about, but he got through it.

Getting to the age he was old enough to get on suppressants reduced the insatiability and lessened the want for an alpha knot – which meant he got to go about his life with much clearer of a head. Without the debilitating haze, Peter found himself able to focus and actually get back to the academic excellence that he upheld for most of his life. It felt good to graduate high school and see a light at the end of the tunnel.

Funny how quickly that light got snatched away from him.

The day after he turned 18, Peter found May sitting on the couch, a worried look on her face. Most of the time, he tried not to worry too much about May’s shift in moods, but he could smell the worry in the air – his aunt went on suppressants 10 years ago and didn’t often smell like anything, especially apprehension. He stopped dead in his tracks then, the scent too much for his biology to ignore.

“What’s up, May? You’re scenting up the place with something sour and it’s getting to be a little nauseating,” Peter muttered, his eyes widening when the smell got worse instead of better. Trying to disguise the move to his nose, Peter wafted his hand to try and clear up the air right in front of him. “Now you’re really worrying me.”

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[hdjskekowieueiwksnsnskka]

Scenes that reminded me of Dom!Tony x Sub!Peter.

[cagestark]

Could you maybe do WIS where Peter has a really bad day and his senses are going crazy and his two big bfs comfort him?

Really wanted to write some porn tonight, so I hope this form of ~comfort~ works for you haha. 

About this: bondage, d/s, winterironspider, nff. 

-

“I know what you need,” Tony had said. He’d known the instant he caught sight of the kid trudging in through the penthouse door, feet shuffling, face pale and drawn. Peter kept his school syllabus and calendar posted on the refrigerator so that both of his lovers could coordinate with him and their own busy schedules. Today had been a convergence of a handful of stressful events, a veritable clusterfuck Bucky had muttered, pressed flush up against Tony while they waited for their morning coffee to brew. 

One look at the kid and Tony knew: Peter was overstimulated (in all the worst ways), overwhelmed, and he needed taken apart. 

Tony could do that. One look at Peter now and it appeared as if he was already halfway there: naked, bound to the chair at his ankles and wrists, cock already hard and arching towards his belly. The black blindfold looks sinful against his pale skin, downright obscene combined with the noise-cancelling headphones and the ball gag that kept the kid’s jaw stretched open. His head was slipping towards his shoulder, going lax with trust and the promise of the freedom to come. 

“Are you going to help me tonight?” Tony asks Bucky who kneels at his feet. The larger man looks up at him with a dark, focused expression. “Help me take our boy apart? Nod yes or no.” 

One firm nod. 

Tony puts the clamps in Bucky’s open, waiting hands. “Get to it, then.” 

Peter’s entire body shivers as Bucky trails his fingers around one pale areola, working to coax his nipple to hardness. It doesn’t take much - Peter is always so beautifully responsive to them, always so sensitive to stimuli - and Bucky takes his time teasing the hardened bud before swiftly putting the clip in place. Peter’s breath hisses in through his nose and around the sides of the gag. His chest jerks back instinctively but it has nowhere to go. Whining, his head falls back as he gives in to the painful pleasure. Tony can’t help but smile watching the two of them. 

Bucky repeats the process on the other nipple and Peter just groans long and low as the second clip is put in place. Quiet and obedient, Bucky sits back on his heels and looks to Tony for further instruction. 

“He’s fucking beautiful, isn’t he?” Tony asks. 

Bucky nods. 

“You are too, you know.” 

Another nod, Bucky’s lips fighting to hold their neutral line. Tony laughs. In the chair, cut off from sight and sound, Peter shifts, wondering where his lovers are and what they plan to do to him. Overthinking, no doubt. That won’t do at all. 

“Suck him off, sweet thing,” Tony says to Bucky’s kneeling form. “Edge him for me.” 

Bucky goes to work with sharp efficiency, placing on palm flat against Peter’s trembling abs and swallowing the kid down to the root. The noise that comes from around the gag is high and desperate. Tony walks in a circle around him, assessing all the angles, trailing fingertips here and there just to watch Peter jerk in surprise, never given a moment to rest and slip back into his thoughts. 

At his side, Tony reaches out and lightly flicks one clamp. Peter’s shout is muffled, body jerking so hard that the chair moves. Bucky pulls off so that they both can watch his cock twitch, precum spilling down the crown. The expression Bucky makes - some twisted, feral pleasure - makes Tony shiver.  Then the other man is putting himself back to work, just his tongue laving up and down the shaft of Peter’s cock, gentling the stimulation to give him time to pull back from the edge. 

Above them both, Tony shows no mercy. He takes turns tugged gently at each clamp just to hear the kid give those muted, desperate noises. His own cock aches, but it’s distant to everything that isn’t Peter, that isn’t his work trying to take the kid out of his own head. Tony places his palm against Peter’s throat, feels the hasty swallow beneath his hand. Then he tightens his grip. Bucky has to pull off completely to keep him from cumming, but Tony can’t enjoy the sight, not when he has to watch Peter’s hands in case he becomes distressed. 

Peter’s fist tightens around the bell in his hand. Tony counts a dozen more seconds before he loosens his hand. Each frantic breath is punctuated with a whine. Glancing down at Bucky, he sees that the man’s become lost in the sight of their lover, eyes dark and pleased. 

Clearing his throat pointedly, Tony reaches out to flick one clamp and reminds the man, “Back to work.” 

[cagestark]

I’m sure your inbox is super full rn but I’ve been having an awful week (my meds got fucked up so my mental health is awful rn and I ended up relapsing and my boss got mad at me today in front of my coworkers and I’m just... not doing well....) and you’re my fav author and if you wrote anything w WIS it would make me really happy. Whether it’s a one shot or update on one of your works. No pressure, it’s obvs not your responsibility, but I thought I’d ask. Ty ❤️

I’m so sorry to hear that you’re having a tough time:( sending you so much peace and love and support.

With school I’m too busy to write this weekend but here’s an extra long snippet a few chapters ahead from AHITH. I hope this helps a little (even if it’s mostly starker). 💖 here for you.

[cagestark]

Starker Drabble: truth serum mishap? - starkerkitty91x

“Are you sure we should be doing this, Mr. Stark?” Peter asks. His entire figure exudes uncertainty, the hunch of his shoulders, the nervous rubbing on his palms against his jeans, the lines between his eyebrows. “I don’t want you to do anything that might, like, hurt you. My project isn’t worth that.” 

Tony can’t help but smile, feeling a stab of fondness for the kid. Plenty of things had changed since he’d started attending NYU focusing on biochemistry, but his heart hadn’t been one of them. The kid cares, heart as big as his brain. Hopefully, his brain is as large as Tony believes it to be, the man thinks, glancing down at the test tube of clear liquid resting in a holder on the lab table. Otherwise, Tony really might get hurt. 

But second only to his affection for the kid is his trust in him. Peter is smart. He’s been working on this serum for two entire semesters now. They can’t bother testing it on him with his genetic modifications, so Tony will gladly play the guinea pig this time. 

“If it really is a truth serum, then your work certainly could be worth some injury for the greater good,” Tony says. Peter’s face only gets paler. “But! - for what it’s worth - I don’t believe anything is going to go wrong. We went over your numbers together and everything checks out. Sometimes, kid, you just have to bite the bullet and go for it.”

“I don’t like that analogy,” Peter snarks. 

Reaching out, Tony picks up the test tube carefully. He sniffs at it. “I don’t smell anything.” 

Peter brightens, only a little. “Exactly. It’s not supposed to have any noticeable taste or smell so that it can be disguised in other solutions.” 

Tony hums. “Bottoms up.” 

Peter is right about the taste. Tony isn’t entirely unconvinced that he didn’t just drink spring water. Maybe that’s the kid’s goal here, maybe this is meant to be a control test. Sitting the test tube down, he takes a seat just in case the stuff he just swallowed isn’t Dasani and it has any unsavory effects that knock him out. Tony’s too old to be doing this, too old to be allowing himself to be experimented on and sure as hell too old to deal with any side effects. 

But for Peter - 

“I’d do anything for you, kid, you know that?” 

“Thanks?” Peter says, cheeks a little flushed. He drags over a chair until they’re sitting by each other. “That’s out of nowhere though. How do you feel?” 

“Totally normal.”

“Not fuzzy in the head? Distractible? Or -” 

“I’m always distractible.”

Peter laughs a little, revealing rows of neat, white teeth. “To be fair, it balances out your tendency to hyperfixate.” 

“Might be nice to experience a healthy middle for once,” Tony muses. “Should I be feeling it?” 

“It might only have detectable physiological effects once you try to lie. Tell me, what’s your name?” 

Steve Rogers, he goes to say. But the breath it would require never makes it past his throat. His teeth click together audibly. Holy shit, Tony thinks. It works. It really works. The harder he strains to try to give any name other than his own - to even give his nickname, Tony - his tongue rests uselessly in his mouth. Peter’s eyes are wide as moons watching Tony struggle, his entire being lighting up with excitement that makes the discomfort completely worth it. 

Then, the other half of the serum begins to work. It’s not enough to keep someone from lying, Peter had said when he presented his project to Tony. You have to compel them to tell the truth. The compulsion begins like an itch in the back of his throat. A feeling of momentum in his chest, like the words are held there and ready to explode out of him. The answer flashes in front of his eyes - Anthony Edward Stark - but he grits his teeth against it. The longer he resists, the worse it gets. He feels it on the tip of his tongue, feels it in his gut, feels it in the flashing synapses of his brain. 

Through his teeth, after only a single minute of silence, he admits: “Anthony Edward Stark.” 

Peter hoots, pumping his fist. But at the sight of the sweat beading on Tony’s forehead, he sobers, reaching out to rest the back of his hand against Tony’s flushed skin like a mother with her child. “Are you okay?” he asks. “Does the compulsion hurt?” 

“Yes,” he says. Relief floods his chest. God, it feels so good to tell the truth. “Not unbearable, though.” 

Peter frowns. “I don’t like that. Maybe we should end the test here.” 

“It’s worth it for you, kid,” Tony blurts out. “I’d hurt a thousand times worse than this for you.”

Peter blinks. “I - that’s, that’s nice? Not really nice, though, because I never want to hurt you, Mr. Stark.” 

“Tony. Please call me Tony. I get that maybe you were nervous to at first and that now it’s like a longstanding joke, but you don’t know how often I think about your mouth forming my name, how often I think of what it must sound like. I fucking crave it, kid, please give it to me.” 

After he runs out of breath, Tony stares blankly at the kid’s face. Holy shit, he thinks again. It’s doing more than just working. 

“The compulsion aspect is out of hand,” Tony says, standing jerkily. He winces when he barrels on to say: “I need to leave the room before I admit my feelings for you.” 

“Feelings?” Peter says, gaping. “You - you have -?”

“So many feelings. Namely romantic and sexual ones these days.” 

“What?” Peter’s voice is nearly a shout. “Sexual feelings?” 

“Of course!” Tony answers, bidden to by the drug in his system, the drug that pries open his teeth no matter how tightly he clenches them shut. The drug that roots his feet to the floor to keep him from walking away. He has an out of body experience (or maybe that’s wishful thinking, maybe he just wishes he could sever his ties with his body and float away to never have to deal with the repercussions of these confessions) watching himself spill his most depraved secrets and thoughts: “You’re not a child anymore; I feel helplessly attracted to you; sometimes when we’re down here working together it’s all I can think about: bending you over one of these lab tables, you getting down on your knees for me so that I could feed my cock into that snarky little mouth of yours, spreading your legs and licking you open to see if you could cum from my tongue alone, for fuck’s sake, I need to leave the room!”

“Why?” Peter asks. Now his voice is quiet, gentle, his hand cool against Tony’s heated flesh when he rests it on the man’s forearm. “Why do you need to leave?”

Tony swallows hard. “Because you don’t feel the same, because if you did feel the same it would still be wrong, because I’m far too old and it’s perverse, because people will think I groomed you, because I’m not good for you, because I could never be good for you, because I’m going to lose you and I can’t stop talking.” 

“I don’t want you to stop talking,” Peter says. He brings them closer, until the fever inside Tony’s body feels fed from the outside by the kid’s own body heat. Still, his hand is cool and refreshing when it reaches up to press against Tony’s cheek, and maybe the honesty goes deeper than just his words, because Tony can’t help but lean into the touch, to let himself have this moment because he wants it and there is no lying to himself about it. “Mr. - Tony - you, you have to know that I feel the same way. I’ve always felt the same way. I thought I was being like, super obvious about it. I don’t care about what anyone else would think. Because I know you’re good for me. You always have been.” 

“Want to be good for you,” Tony breathes. His body shakes, and there’s no telling if its the drug or the vulnerability. He cringes at the neediness in his voice and his words, but that’s him. At his core. At his most honest - yearning. 

“You are, I just said,” Peter replies. “Can I kiss you?” 

“I might die if you don’t,” Tony admits. 

Peter breathes a little laugh, breath fanning across Tony’s open mouth. “Don’t want that,” he murmurs, standing up onto his toes. 

[cagestark]

A Hole in the Head//6

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six

a gift for you <3 nff

Read here on AO3.

-

“Ned, I’m saying this with all due respect, but where the fuck is your galaxy sword,” Peter mutters into his headset, thumb mashing the square on his controller. During a brief lull in activity, he sips at a bottled water open on the end table. Who knew that some brands of water tasted more like water than the water that used to come from the sink at his apartment in Queens? That water had tasted like pennies. Peter truly is living the life. 

“I lost it,” Ned says. 

“Lost it, how do you lose a galaxy sword?” 

“Very, very carelessly.” 

“And you haven’t—goddamnit another floor with mummies, why aren’t my bombs on my hotbar?—you haven’t gotten another one why?”

“I’m not swimming in prismatic shards, Peter!” says Ned. “You know, when I said I wanted to co-op a more mellow game like Stardew Valley, I meant something a little more domestic. We could make a new farm together. Plant some parsnips. Get a dog—fuck me, fuck me, Iridium Crab! and the Fortune Teller predicted pleased spirits today? Pleased to see me die is more likely. This is doing nothing for my anxiety—” 

“Then let’s get the fuck out of here,” says Peter. Ever since he’d moved in with Tony and Ned had gone across the country to go to college, these game sessions were some of the only time the two boys could spend together. Tony was offering to fly them to see each other every chance he could, but with Ned’s hectic grad school schedule, only god knew when he’d ever be free again. Peter didn’t want to waste a moment of their time together playing something Ned didn’t like. “I want the farm, I want the picket fence, I want a pen full of chickens and cows and pigs. You want domestic, I’ll give you domestic.” 

Movement in the upper corner of his dark television while he exits to the loading screen. He turns around to see Bucky shifting against the wall, an expression on his face as close to amusement as he can get. Sometimes, Peter forgets he’s there. The guy is that quiet.

Peter is starting to feel that comfortable.

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