Aug 17, 2024
seen from Austria
seen from Poland
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Switzerland
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from T1
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
CUDDLE ME PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!
Peter Parker x female reader
Summary: Peter just wants your cuddles
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You were sitting at your desk writing some ideas in your notebook on how to prank Sam back for covering you in glitter the other day.
Peter then came into your room and sat down on the floor laying his head in your lap. "Hey Pete, something wrong?" You asked him closing your notebook putting it in a drawer. "Want cuddles" he whispered. "Can you speak up baby?". "Cuddle me please" he looked up and gave you puppy dog eyes. "Now how can I say no to that cute face" his face lit up and jumped up getting onto the bed making grabby hands. "I'm coming baby" you said and chuckled a little looking at your cute, cuddly, needy but innocent boyfriend looking at you with puppy dog eyes again.
You got into the bed laying and Peter immediately cuddled up to you nuzzling his head ontop of your breasts. You wrapped one of your arms around his torso and your other hand is playing with his brown soft slightly curly hair. His body might be almost fully ontop of you but he was too cute, looking like a little baby who got there bottle that they wanted but in his case just wanting cuddles and attention from you.
He lifted his head and kissed your collarbone a couple times "I missed you" You chuckled a bit at his comment. "You saw me two hours ago" You said kissing his forehead. "Yeah but I got bored from Steve giving me a lecture about walking on the ceiling". "Did you accidently fall infront of him scaring the living shit out of him?". He nodded and nuzzled back ontop of your chest. "I love you" He said. "I love you too" You kissed his head playing with his curls.
Sweet and sour
Superior Iron Man x Peter
TW: Dark Tony, Mind Control, Hypnotism, Dubcon, Mentions of Violence
Tony can’t help the slow, predatory grin that sweeps across his face as Peter twists away from his friends in the brilliantly executed double cross and comes to sidle up to Tony’s side instead. He wraps his arm around the boy’s dainty waist, and his blue nanotech retreats so he can kiss those rosy lips, and one hand squeezes appreciatively at Peter’s plump little ass. His boy giggles against him, tiptoeing to nuzzle against Tony’s beard. It’s obscenely adorable.
Peter’s stupid friends make noises of horror and betrayal, and MJ, quite the little deviant to his system of rule over New York, steps forward. “Peter,” she whispers in cold fury, “what are you doing? What are you doing? Have you been playing us? You’re giving in to Stark’s rule? He’s destroying New York! You pretended to be our friend-“
“No, MJ,” Peter whispers, shaking his head so adamantly that his tousled hickory curls tustle enthusiastically. “No, it’s not like that! I just- I needed to get you to trust me because- you don’t understand. Tony is good for New York. He’s what we need-“
“Oh my god,” she spits in disgust, her black-rimmed eyes narrowing in derision. “He’s completely taken you in. How can you think that? With all the things that he’s done-”
“Peter,” Ned gapes, still in the stages of dawning comprehension. “How could you?”
Flash is lost for words.
Peter looks sad, and Tony can’t have that. His princess shouldn’t ever be sad. He draws him closer to his side and presses a gentle kiss to his temple. “Don’t listen to them, sweetheart,” he coos, and Peter nods, but his eyes don’t sparkle like they do when he’s really happy.
Tony vows to restore it later.
For now- “I’m going to enjoy killing you.” He hisses, stalking forward, and MJ lifts her head defiantly, but Extremis coils bright and blue around Tony and he can see her flinch just a little. The others are cowering, and he’s lifting a hand- he’ll snap her little neck-
When a soft gasp and a hand at his elbow stops him. “Daddy!” Peter cries in surprise and dismay, “What are you doing? You said you wouldn’t hurt them! You promised!”
Tony grits his teeth, and MJ looks triumphant.
“Peter, baby,” Tony says as gently as he can, “that was a lie. I lied to you so you’d help me bring them here. I’m going to kill them all now, and I’d rather you didn’t see it. Go up to the tower, sweetheart.”
Peter comes even further forward, and Tony swallows hard. His Peter is perfect, and beautiful, with his dainty frame and slim, elegant limbs. He’s Tony’s finest possession. The only thing that Tony would risk anything for- but Peter can’t get in his way. “Daddy,” Peter shakes his head, standing between Tony and his friends, “you promis-“
Tony grips Peter’s chin gently, and his eyes flash blue and the nanotech slithers onto Peter’s skin across their bond. “I explained things to your friends,” he whispers hypnotisingly, watching as Peter’s eyes glint sapphire, “they understood that I am superior. They happily went back to work, but they don’t want to contact you- they’re too busy being completely happy in their new roles. You don’t miss them at all. Now go up to bed, get yourself ready for me, daddy wants to wreck your glorious little hole tonight, and you love it.”
He pulls away and Peter’s eyes recede back to warm brown.
Peter wriggles in excitement, as Flash and Ned make retching sounds. Tony watches his boy scurry away fondly, and then he turns back to the little rebels.
He grins at them: vicious and deadly.
“Time’s up,” he snarls, spraying their blood across the walls.
By the time he gets upstairs, he’s clean and eager. As is Peter, his precious angel, who’s writhing on the bed, two fingers buried in himself and calling for his daddy.
“Daddy’s here, baby,” Tony clucks, already pulling himself out. He’s rock hard, and he kneels on the bed, sliding in in one smooth motion, all the way to the hilt- Peter’s velvet walls gripping him exquisitely, as he runs his hands up and down Peter’s sides, crooning lovingly to him. “My little angel, fuck, baby, you feel so good. You’re such a good boy for daddy, aren’t you?”
Peter pants, nodding helplessly, rocking his hips back tantalisingly. “Daddy, daddy, daddy,” he pleads, “feels good- need it-“
Tony chuckles, gripping Peter’s hips and setting a brutal pace, making sure to hammer his baby’s sweet spot with each bruising thrust.
Peter’s got a new truth embedded into his brain. Hypnotism isn’t Tony’s first port of call. It’s more of a last resort. He’d wooed Peter properly. Wined and dined him. And Peter had fallen in love with him honestly, beautifully, like a little flower. But then Tony had become more and more powerful, filled with darker and darker desires to rule, and Peter had needed slight tweaking- here and there- so he could see Tony as benevolent and kind, and good.
And Tony likes it that way.
He likes that Peter thinks Tony is perfect. Kind and admirable. He likes that Peter brags about him. That his boy doesn’t know the truth about what happens down in the dictator-ruled streets of New York. About the chaos Tony enjoys causing.
Besides, he treats his boy right, as Peter cums with a delighted squeal, clenching perfectly around him and Tony spills into him, he peppers kisses onto his face and holds him close.
He’d never let any harm come to him.
Peter yawns and snuggles into Tony’s chest, sated and beautiful. “I’m so glad MJ saw you for what you really are, daddy,” he whispers contentedly, and Tony grins into the dark.
He trails his fingers up and down Peter’s spine and thinks of the blood downstairs. “Me too, baby,” he chuckles, “me too.”
Summer Starker
Peter’s skin was warm under Tony’s touch, still flushed slightly red. It was a beautiful shade on the boy, Tony decided, leaning forward to press his lips wherever he could on the other boy’s body. A cross between a giggle and a whine came from the body beside him, and he couldn’t help but smile against Peter’s skin, pausing to look up at him.
The corners of Peter’s mouth were turned up, but his lower lip was sticking out slightly in a pout. It did nothing but remind Tony of how adorable the other boy was, especially with his large doe eyes and fluffy curls. Today they were extra soft, and Tony couldn’t stop himself from letting his hand slide up Peter’s side--earning a pleased shiver from the younger boy--and into his mop of hair. Peter went pliant under Tony’s hand, eyes closing, his long eyelashes brushing against his cheeks.
Tony’s breath is stolen, just watching how beautiful the other boy is, and how much he doesn’t want him to leave. He’s been skirting around his feelings for Peter for several years now, but knowing this is the last time that he’ll see the boy for another year hurts his chest and clogs his throat.
“You know, you could stay here,” Tony whispers, barely able to bring himself to break the silence. Peter’s breathtaking eyes open again, so soft and focused solely on Tony. “You know we have a lot of spare bedrooms. I could convince dad to give you a low rent. Or better yet, I could pay your rent. You wouldn’t have to leave.”
Peter smiles, but his eyes are sad. Tony hates to see anything other than content in those gentle eyes, but he already knows that Peter is going to reject his offer.
“Tony,” Peter breathes, one of his hands reaching out to set on Tony’s shoulder. “You know I would if I could, but I can’t just leave May like that. She needs me.” Tony nods, because he does understand, but it doesn’t do anything but break his heart. “I’ll be back next year like I always am.”
It’s a promise the boy makes every year, and it has Tony’s heart beating just a little faster in his chest every time he hears it. He never wants the year to come where Peter finds someone at home and decides not to come back to Tony. He can’t bear the thought of not having Peter in his room, in his bed, and at his side summer after summer when the boy comes to visit. He has no right to claim the boy when he can’t even tell him he loves him, but he still holds onto him and kisses him like he does.
“I’m going to miss you.”
The words are new from his mouth, and he almost regrets saying it. But Peter’s eyes soften just a little, and his smile grows just a little wider and Tony thinks that he could almost fathom telling this sweet boy he loves him.
“I know,” Peter whispers, leaning forward just enough to brush his lips against Tony’s. It’s not even close to a real kiss, but it has Tony’s eyes fluttering closed anyway, basking in the warmth around them. “You always do.”
Alpha Tony, Omega Peter sickfic ‘Howard buys Tony an Omega Part 3’
Read the rest here: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
You don’t need to have read those to understand this lil fic :) x
Tony wakes up slowly, to sharp pain in his throat and an inability to breathe through his nose.
He groans when he realises he’s sick.
That’s great, that’s just what he needs. First week home for summer from college, and he’s contracted some delayed flu-virus that makes swallowing feel like his throat’s swollen to a degree that should make breathing completely impossible.
He goes to sit up when something brilliantly ice-cold presses against his forehead and he sinks back into the pillows with a moan of relief. He opens his eyes to see Peter, of course, his little angel, with a gentle smile, holding the icy wet flannel over his Alpha’s forehead. “Don’t get up, Alpha,” Peter says gently, “you’re sick.”
Tony sighs. “I think you’re right,” he manages, his throat convulsing painfully with every word. “God, Peter can I have something to dri-“
There’s fine china gently nudging at his lips and he would roll his eyes if he didn’t think it would make him dizzy, and he holds his head as steady as he can as Peter tips the cup. It’s tea, Tony thinks, with an unusual taste and it soothes momentarily as it goes down- just a little too hot, which makes him feel like the germs in his throat are getting a good kicking. “It’s ginger and leaf tea,” Peter informs him, pulling the cup away once Tony’s drained half of it, and picking up a napkin to dab at his mouth.
Tony pulls away from the pampering, struggling to piece it all together. How does Peter have everything all ready?- how did he- he sits up, the icy flannel slipping down his face while Peter’s dainty hands fret to push him back down, but Tony doesn’t stop until he’s propped up by the headboard and he can see his room.
The windows are all open, and the warm summer sunshine seeps in through the early morning. There’s- he blinks, there’s medicine and nasal drops and lozenges and fresh sheets all folded on his desk. And on the bedside table- there’s tea and soup and sparsely buttered toast- little warm bread rolls too, tucked into the side and almost bursting with meat filling. “Did you- baby, when did you get this all ready?” Every word hurts to choke out.
Peter shushes him. “I woke up a few hours ago,” he admits, “you were really hot, and I knew you were gunna be sick and I wanted to be ready.” Peter winks at him cheekily, “be a good little Alpha and lemmie take care of you.”
Tony swats at him but misses by a mile.
Peter coos at him delightedly, before lifting up the tea. “Drink.” He insists lovingly, and Tony does.
Omegas are made to care, and it’s clear Peter’s in his element. Luckily, Omegas can’t catch the same viruses as Alphas, so Peter’s happy enough to come in and out of his room, and snuggle right up to him, while Howard calls good morning from the safety of the hallway. Tony drifts in and out of deep sleeps, but every time he wakes up, be it dark outside, or the heat of the afternoon, Peter is there with some new delicacy, and there’s a freshly cut bouquet of flowers on his desk (he’ll find out, when he’s better, that Peter would roam the Stark gardens picking out flowers he thought were even a hundredth as beautiful as Tony).
He wakes up and it’s pitch black outside, but the lamp in his bedroom is on and casts a warm golden glow over them. He snuffles a little, and sees Peter put down his book and smile, carding his finger’s through Tony’s hair. He leans into the caress. “I made you some warm, nutmeg cookies,” he murmurs, and Tony’s mouth waters, “you can’t have chocolate, but these are sweet and yummy, just like you.”
Tony feels lips kiss his cheek, and then in a haze of wonderment he’s fed bitesize pieces of cookie that melts on his tongue- flavours like chestnut and oak bursting across his mouth, and he notices with some small relief that it hurts to swallow just a little bit less.
After the cookies, Peter gives him a spoonful of medicine that’s sharp like lemons but it numbs him, and then through muffled ears, he hears his boy reading to him.
Old Omega fairytales, about omegas lost in the woods, tempted by evil, only to be saved by an Alpha. Of Alpha’s crooning to fair omegas trapped in towers- he dreams of spires and dense forests and Peter in a crown.
Everything aches, and he feels remarkably feeble considering he’s been lying in bed and sleeping for the past three days, as he shuffles to the bathroom. Peter keeps licking his neck apologetically, calling him big and strong and brave and it should be patronising, but it’s not. It’s just lovely. He feels like he’s in a nice warm embrace.
There’s already a hot bath run for him. The water is pink and Peter’s obviously put something in it. It smells like strawberries.
As his omega helps him strip, he manages to give him a little wink and Peter nuzzles him and says coyly: When you’re better.
He’s left alone for a while, to sink into the bliss of the liquid. It soothes him, and he’s almost back to sleep when Peter comes back, deliciously naked though Tony realises sadly that he can’t even get an erection in this state-
The boy climbs into the bath with him, and bathes his Alpha.
His hands are like magic, they work into every muscle, they run through his hair, tangling and untangling in tantalising strokes. The steam helps him breathe better, and Peter rinses him off, doing all of the work, before towelling him dry. Peter looks in his element like this, his face happy and pleased at getting to care for his alpha, at helping him get better.
It’s the same look that Peter gets whenever Tony comes top of the class, or punches another Alpha in the face for murmuring suggestive things to his boy. It’s pleased, and proud, and completely in love.
When he gets back to his bedroom, the sheets have been changed, and they’re crisp and cool underneath him. Peter snuggles up to him and feeds him sourdough and chicken soaked in gravy, and then steamed carrots all with his dainty little fingers, and Tony hopes his boy knows how much he loves him. He loves him so much and-
“I know, Alpha,” Peter giggles, a little shy, as he lifts some fruit cake he make to Tony’s lips.
Ah, he’s been talking out loud.
He sucks on a lozenge and falls asleep, and knows that whatever happens, Peter will be right there beside him when he wakes up.
Read the rest here: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
To those who wanted to be tagged, i’m honoured and love you all :) x @catastropheismyfirstname @peterparkers-sparkles @djspooky-jim @godlovesstarker @harmonystarker @atypicalmeposts @betty-bloom @that-tiny-dumb-artist @laughing-oreo @thatmarvelstan @book-lover-k @haylove5 @scarletsoldierrr @smidnite @buckettbarnes @hoe4parker @w1nters-stark
Sweet Peter (Pt. 2) - Frieda Nichols, Homer Brown and His Group (Sweet Peter (Pt. 1) / Sweet Peter (Pt. 2), 1977)