#innocent peter

[hermioneweasleyxxx]

poor peter

[mystical-marauder]

Peter: why is everyone so obsessed with top or bottom?

Peter: I'd just be excited to have a bunk bed

Remus:

James:

Sirius:

Sirius: I'm gonna tell him

Remus: don't you dare

[starkerforlife6969]

Starker - Italy Edition Part 2

This is the long awaited part 2 to the Retired Mafia Boss Tony x Peter - Italian Edition drabble you can read here but you don’t need to read it to understand :) 

Retired Mafia Boss Tony needs something to fulfil his days, and fate gives him a pretty little thing stranded on the edge of the road. 

TW: abuse of authority, sort of kidnapping? I mean Peter goes willingly but that boy is way too innocent for his own good. Tony just wants to lavish him really, and Peter’s just a touch too clueless to say no. Susceptible Peter, easily manipulated Peter. 

Two weeks in, Peter is much more comfortable wandering around the villa. 

His ankle is healed, and Tony can only admire over the rim of his wine glass, as Peter flits from room to room. Each more extravagant than the last, filled to the brim with exotic treasures and ancient relics. 

How little attention Tony has paid them before. They only light when Peter casts his adoring gaze of sunshine on them. His little face beams with each story Tony recounts for him. 

Tony feels a peace within him that is suspiciously close to contentment. Could it be? He hopes so. Up until meeting this injured soul on the side of the road, Tony’s retirement had consisted of a restless longing. For what, he hadn’t known. The smell of gun oil had called to him, the rush of power and money had beckoned. 

He had thought, for so long, that running his Mafia, presiding over territories long-fought over, was his soulmate. 

He was wrong.

His soulmate is before him now, trailing his fingers over a painting worth millions of dollars, all because Tony had said he could touch it. 

He muses over Peter now. He loves to muse over this boy. His new muse. Eighteen years old and full of life. 

He’d managed to get Peter to stay the night, and then he’d coaxed the boy into staying the week, to make sure his ankle had really healed. 

And then, Tony, the master of persuasion that he is, had gently enticed the sweet thing into staying with Tony for the rest of his holiday. It only made sense. 

After all, poor Peter Parker was lonely in Italy. Tony could offer entertainment, luxury, and knowledge. 

He hasn’t let Peter out of his sight. He’d had people go and collect the boy’s things from the dingy hotel he was staying at in an over-trodden tourist hotspot, but Peter isn’t wearing his own clothes now.

He’s wearing the garments Tony’s had made for him. Tailored floral silks and cream lace and white satin. They’re figure hugging but flouncy at the same time, they show off Peter’s lovely skin under the guise of providing relief from the humidity of the Italian summer. 

Tony’s distracted by the flush of pink across Peter’s delicate cheekbones as the boy peruses his collection of books (that Tony bought on a whim he’s tremendously grateful for now- those daffodil eyes bright with interest) before noticing that Peter’s tea is untouched. 

He sets down his wine and clears his throat. “Cucciolo, you should drink.” He calls from the balcony, voice carrying past the parted curtains.

Peter, so obedient it makes Tony hungry, twirls around immediately before scampering over with a bashful smile. “Sorry,” he murmurs, for nothing, taking a seat beside Tony outside on the balcony, where the breeze caresses tumbling locks of hickory, “I got distracted. C-cuo-cucciolo this time, what does that one mean?” 

Tony watches as Peter blows on his tea. So delicate. “It means puppy,” he grins, chuckling at Peter’s scrunched up nose. “Now now, we can’t say it’s not accurate. You’ve got the puppy-dog eyes and the enthusiasm.” 

Peter giggles at that as Tony’s thoughts go down darker avenues. Peter’s little yips and whines of pleasure as Tony pounds into him-

“And- this morning,” Peter presses, “you said do…do-dolcezza.” 

“Sweetness.”

Peter blushes, ducking his head and taking a long drink of his tea. His bare toes curl up in pleasure. Such a reactive, appreciative, wonderful boy. “Mmm,” he sighs, eyes closed in bliss, (what would he look like, Tony wonders, in the throes of pleasure and orgasm?) “it’s like sipping liquid candlelight.” 

Tony laughs again, deep and full bodied. This is peace indeed. But contentment? Not yet. He needs the boy. All of him. 

***

Peter adores Tony’s sprawling vineyard. Endless to the eye. Tony lounges on the deck, while Peter disappears into the greenery only to come back ever delighted at discoveries he’s made. 

Peter offers Tony a little handful of grapes after one of his excursions, and Tony reaches out, thumbing a smudge of juice from Peter’s lip. 

The boy’s skin is sun-warm, it trembles deliciously under Tony’s touch. He presses his thumb more firmly, into the soft wet cave of Peter’s mouth when-

One of his attendants clears his throat politely. 

Tony briefly considers killing them, before letting it slide. 

“Signore,” the attendant murmurs, placing a piece of card beside Tony’s elbow. He reaches for it and Peter sits opposite him, curious but ever-polite. 

It’s a postcard from Harley. A picture of Montecarlo and on the reverse a simple: All’s well. Rest, old man. 

Tony smiles. 

Peter perks up. “Something good?” He asks, delighted by Tony’s pleasure. What a good, good boy. 

“My son,” Tony hums. He’s spoken of Harley to Peter before. It had helped lull the boy into a sense of security to think of Tony as a father figure, a family man. Even though Harley’s only a few years older than Peter the boys couldn’t be more different. Harley is a man, thick and brawny, deft and cunning like his father- mature and hardened in ways that made Tony proud. 

Peter is soft as a lily, fragile as a rose petal. 

“I should send my Aunt a postcard,” Peter chirps like a little english bird, “that’d be nice! Maybe we could go to town today?” 

Maybe, Tony thinks. A card would waylay any worry. The month is drawing to a close and Peter’s holiday will be over soon. He might want to go home. 

Tony will just have to coax him into staying. 

“We can go into town this evening for dinner, miele, you can wear the blue lace.”

Peter blushes, so lovely, lovelier than lavender, curls spilling into his forehead. “Okay, Mr Stark,” 

Tony wants to leave bruises on that slender neck, then soothe them with gentle kisses and sweet words. 

He doesn’t want a fight, doesn’t want his trusting, naive little Bambi to struggle against his new life- his new destiny. Tony likes him just as he is: demure, delighted, delicious. 

***

He mulls it over till the evening, his maid brushing lint from his suit jacket. The boy is sweet on love, that much is clear. The way he blossoms under compliments and swoons on receiving gifts. 

Does Tony love Peter? He’s not sure. He’s known the boy two weeks now and knows he won’t ever let him go. With Peter comes peace. Comes desire. Comes meaning. 

“Mirda,” he murmurs to the maid, “I think I might be in love.”

She smiles at him, and adjusts the collar on his shirt. 

When Peter comes down the stairs, he’s a vision in blue. A natural beauty. A wildflower. 

“Bello, Caro,” Tony breathes, not giving Peter a chance to ask, before opening his palm to show the tuscan pearls cradled within.

Peter doesn’t breathe. 

“For you,” Tony vows, looping the necklace across that slender neck and fastening the gold clap meaningfully. He whispers into Peter’s ear, feeling the boy shiver against him. “Do you believe in love, Peter?” He asks, and when Peter turns his head a little, Tony can feel the brush of those eyelashes against his cheek. 

“Mr Stark,” Peter whimpers, glorious and beautiful. 

Tony offers his arm and they go to dinner.

[wandering-night19]

Winterironspider: Stockholm Syndrome

When Tony and Bucky see something they want they take it.

[marvels-clownery-festival]

Alpha Prince tony x Omega baker peter au

I had a dream about this shit where tony is a crowned prince and peter is a soft baker at May's bakery and tony is pressured by his father king Howard to find a beta or an alpha princess to take over the throne and enlarge the territory but all he wants to do is lay in flower fields and bake muffins with Peter And peter is just dumbstruck by tony should I make it happen perhaps ? UwU

( AFTER YEARS OF WATCHING I HAVE FINALLY MADE A MOODBOARD YAYAYAYAY)

[tony-is-my-daddy]

This idea came out of nowhere but

I really like both innocent and slutty Peter and I just... wanna morph them together so here it is.

Peter grew up with May, no man in his life who he'd have learned things from and he didn't want to ask May because... that's embarassing. So when he hit puberty, he knew nothing. He didn't know what to do or how to do it, he didn't know what was going on inside him. He didn't know what it meant when he got hard so he just didn't think about it too much. He left it like that, never touching himself.

He would never watch porn because he wasn't allowed to do that. He heard guys talk about it or look at hot girls' pics on whatever social media they were on and things like that... but it never excited him.

When they had sex ed Peter pretended to be sick so he didn't have to listen to all that awkward stuff. He never really liked talking about sex because he felt disgusted by himself when he thought about it.

All that lasted for four years, until he turned 17 and fell in love with his mentor, Tony Stark. After a few intense eye contacts, flirting and lingering touches, Tony asked the boy out for a date. And soon after they got together.

They went as slow as they could, they didn't kiss until their tenth date and Peter would never stay over at nights. Tony was a gentleman and he let the boy set the pace, never wanting to go further than Peter would want to.

But one night, 4 months after they got together, Peter stormed into Tony's penthouse and without a warning, he pulled Tony into his bedroom.

"I wanna do it. I wanna have... s-sex... with you. Now. Right now. Please? I just... really want to know how it feels 'cause you know I've never... so... yeah... please teach me how and... be gentle," Peter stammered and could Tony ever say no to his baby boy?

So they undressed and Tony talked Peter through everything. He took his time to thoroughly open Peter up and he went slow. He moved his hips gently while he stroked the boy's little cocklet. Just doing literally anything to make Peter feel good.

And when they came, they laid down on the bed next to each other. Peter stared at the ceiling, completely fucked out with a blissed smile on his face.

"So that's how sex feels?"

"Yes baby. Did you like it?"

"...We should've done it sooner. Much, much sooner."

After that, Petef became sex addict. He'd suck Tony's cock in the lab under his desk, or bend over it and let Tony fuck him. But not just in the lab, anywhere inside the house and sometimes outside too, when Peter can't contain himself.

Tony doesn't mind, though. He fucked every ounce of inocence out of that boy and he was proud of himself. He made a monster. A sex addict, cock-worshipper monster, but he loved it. He was more than happy to give his baby slut whatever he wanted.

[midnight-raven]

IronDad & SpiderSon Prompt: Are You My Son?

Absolutely No Endgame here!

A small group of Hydra Agents had been on the rise, the Avengers were sent to take them down. Unfortunately, Tony did not survive, he was killed in battle. 

However, what no one knew was that the same Hydra Agents had taken Tony’s body and experimented on him, alive! But something went wrong, and their asset came out more powerful than they had anticipated. Tony had gained Technopatical powers, and his eyes glowed a cold shade of blue. With his new power, he killed every single one of the Hydra Agents.

He was no longer Tony Stark.

Several weeks later in New York, a genetically enhanced man that calls himself “The Mechanic” was causing mayhem, stealing pieces of technology and leaving a trail of bodies in his path.

The Avengers begged Peter to stay out of it and let them handle it... but clearly they didn’t know him better. He couldn’t just sit behind, and let another child lose his father.

Spider-Man had managed to corner the Mechanic in an abandoned building and had managed to web one of his hands down, (geez this feels familiar). But when he caught sight of his face-

“No. Oh God, it can’t be! He can’t be alive!” Peter thought as he took off his mask without thinking, tears streaming down his face. “Mr. Stark?”

When the Mechanic caught sight of the young spiderling with his mask off, something in his brain went off, a familiar yet unidentifiable feeling that he didn’t understand.

Who was this kid? Why does he look so familiar? Maybe he’s the key to his past? In that moment of realization, the Mechanic did the only logical thing:

He kidnaps him.

Peter woke up in a room on a cozy bed, and dressed in a loose sweatsuit. The room was bare and he could tell that the large steel door could only be opened from the outside.

Mr. Stark, or rather The Mechanic, had brought Peter to his secluded home, where no one can find them. And makes it very clear that he has no intention on letting his new guest go.

The Mechanic even went as far as to send a threatening message to the Avengers, “If you or the police so much as think about finding me or try to take Spider-Boy away, I will burn this entire city to the ground, and leave you to watch the ashes,”

Peter knows he should escape, he knows he has to... but he can’t leave Mr. Stark broken like this. Even if he’s not Mr. Stark anymore, he can't abandon him.

Besides, the new Mr. Stark isn't mean to him but he does get a little scary when angry. Like at first when Peter first refused to eat, or begged to go home. Then to when he even mentioned the Avengers or asked him to consider returning home.

“You are not going anywhere! Not until I find out why I can’t seem to get you out of my fucking head! Why are you so damn important to me?”

[starkerforlife6969]

Starker, Loosely Based off Good Omens

Peter keeps eyeing Tony’s devil food cake.

Tony sighs, and pushes the plate towards him. Peter looks up with big, guilty, honey eyes and shakes his head insistently. “No! I couldn’t, you eat it, Tony-“

“I’m not even hungry,” Tony insists, pushing the plate even further towards his companion. Peter’s cheeks go all pink and lovely and Tony wonders how he lasted the last few decades without seeing him. The last time must have been- oh god (ouch), it might have been the Second Industrial Revolution.

Peter’s just as pretty. With his huge eyes and his chestnut curls and his cream skin. He’s in a white floral printed suit, trimmed with gold, and it fits him perfectly. The tie is a faded pink, and it matches the rose hue of his lips.

“But it’s called devil’s food cake,” Peter points out, reaching for his fork anyway. He takes a heaped forkful into his mouth, all chocolate and cream and icing and Tony wants to kiss him.

He wonders what would happen if he did. He’s loved Peter for centuries, there’s no doubt about it, but Peter’s never shown any interest. He’s all naive and wonderstruck, Tony doesn’t think Peter quite knows about sex, if he’s honest.

Tony’s clad in a sleek black suit, and there are streaks of rouge through his dark hair. The sunglasses look a little odd, but no one is looking twice.

“I thought you had something to do with that horrible war,” Peter says, chocolate crumbs on his lips as he drinks the sweet, fruity cocktail Tony ordered for him. “I was so happy you didn’t!”

“That’s all the humans, I’m afraid,” Tony sighs, easing back in his chair. His whole body itches. Being away from Peter for so long has just reminded him how much he loves him. How much he wants him. “Come back to mine. It’s been too long, angel.”

Peter blushes again, and dabs his lips with the handkerchief. “I can’t, Tony. If the others-“ he glances up towards the ceiling, “-found out that I was hanging out with you-“

“Screw the others,” Tony insists, and he makes his voice soft, and thinks about the time he and Peter both tried to distract King Arthur so he wouldn’t find the fountain of eternal youth. He thinks about the way they laughed in the forest, surrounded by animals that were so much bigger than they are now. “C’mon, it’s been an age. Let me tempt you. I was just in Belgium. Scrumptious little truffles, you’d love them.”

His angel looks tempted, and if that isn’t Tony’s job, he’s not sure what is. There are little freckles dappled across Peter’s nose, and he leans forward, the white cotton of his suit touching Tony’s black velvet. “Maybe. They’re not too happy with me anyway.” He lifts his eyebrows up towards the heavens. “I accidentally performed a miracle again.”

Tony pinches the bridge of his nose. “How many times do we have to talk about that?”

“It was an accident!” Peter exclaims, “The King has these gorgeous little girls, Tony! They just wanted a little freedom from the palace, that’s all-“

Damn it all to hell, Tony adores him. Peter’s sweet breath fanning over his face, those excited eyes, the stray white feathers here and there. “Come back with me.” Tony asks again, and his fingers shake with the urge to touch Peter’s cheek. “Please, angel.”

Peter beams, all pleased, and he nods. “Since you asked so nicely.”

*** Tony has a townhouse in the city, stained black here and there with ash and soot. Peter’s little cottage in Northumberland is almost overgrown with violets and honeysuckle. Don’t ask Tony how he knows that. 

Peter looks around in amazement, touching all of Tony’s souvenirs. He stops at a chalet of poison. He turns and frowns at Tony who does his best not to look too sheepish. “Tony,” he warns, “I hope you didn’t have anything to do with Rasputin.”

Tony shrugs, snapping his fingers so the kettle boils instantly. “Who can really tell, Angel? Here, have some tea. I have your favourite.”

Peter lingers a little by the poison, but is easily swayed, and sits down amidst the cluttered collection of burnt Bibles and stolen treasures. Tony takes the opportunity to sit right beside him, their legs brushed together.

He thinks he sees Peter blush, but he’s not sure.

“If I find out you had something to do with Rasputin, Tony…”

“If a crazy man wants to make a deal with a demon, Petey, what do you want me to do? You perform your little miracles, am I not allowed to break a few rules here and there? Besides, what’s the harm. He’s dead, isn’t he?” Tony had made quite sure of that. 

Peter scowls at that, but nibbles on the biscuits Tony’s provided, and settles in.

They talk about their recent travels, and Tony puffs out his chest when Peter leans in: fascinated, as he regales his adventures in South America. He, of course, makes sure to leave out any evil-doing, and just watches as Peter gives him all of his attention.

Night comes too quickly, and Peter yawns- surprising himself- and it’s so cute Tony almost leans forward and kisses him right then and there.

“Good heavens!” Peter exclaims, “I should be getting back. Tony, this has been lovely!”

“Don’t go,” Tony urges, because he’s not sure he can bear to be without him. “I have a spare room.”

Peter hesitates, but nods slowly. “Maybe that would be best. No turning into a Serpent or anything, okay?”

Tony laughs, full bodied and delighted, and he sticks out his hand to shake. “I promise.”

Tony goes to bed that night- alone- but also not alone. He may not have his angel’s love yet, but give him time- and he will.