Peter X Tony - Tumblr Posts
Harley: You look absurd in that suit.
Tony: I have apples.
Tony: do you want an apple?
Starker!Makeup drabbles for Peter’s return to the MCU... it’s a teeeny bit meta.
Part 1 and 2
He finishes shaving the perfect lines of his beard, clearing away the shaving cream and shutting out the bathroom light as he heads back through the house, joining Peter in the kitchen.
“FRI, you can’t take advice from a twelve-year-old magazine article,” Peter says as he flips the grilled sandwich, turning and smiling wide when he sees Tony, “Hey daddy-oh…” he stops when Tony presses his entire body to the back of Peter, sliding his hands up the backs of Peter’s thighs, over his ass.
“Let me guess,” Tony says lowly, pushing Peter’s sweats down, “Baby woke up with a sweet tooth?”
“Yeah,” Peter says shakily.
“Grilled peanut butter and grape jam?”
Peter arches back when Tony presses two slick fingers into him, “M-… hm… yeah.”
Tony nods to himself, glancing to make sure Peter doesn’t burn his food, “Careful,” he warns, and just as Peter’s turning down the heat, he pushes the hem of his pajamas down enough to free his own dick, guiding Peter back.
“Tony-”
“Mr. Stark,” Tony corrects him, smirking as he runs his fingers over Peter’s stomach.
Peter looks back to his face and a visible tremor runs through the kid, “M-... Mr. Stark,” he corrects himself, voice intentionally higher, “S-sorry, sir.”
“Don’t apologize, just do better.”
“Fuck,” Peter closes his eyes, rocking back as Tony keeps the pace slow and agonizing, drawing it out.
He reaches around to shove his fingers in Peter’s open mouth, “Glad you’re back home where you belong, kiddo. It didn’t feel the same without you.”
“Mm?” Peter asks around his fingers, licking and sucking at them eagerly.
“You know it wasn’t,” Tony says, kissing his neck and shoulder, “You don’t need me to tell you how hard it was for me. How hard it was on all of us, but especially me.”
He pulls his fingers back, wrapping them around Peter’s dick and pumping him in time with the thrusts.
“I know,” Peter gasps, finally pulling the pan from the burner and focusing on Tony, “I’m sorry, M-Mr. Stark.”
“I know you are, baby, I know.”
He pulls Peter back from the counter, wrapping one arm around his waist and the other around his mouth, dragging him down into quick, rushed thrusts.
Peter reaches back, with nowhere else to grab, holding the back of Tony’s neck as he gasps and moans into the palm pressed firmly to his lips. There’s the sharp exhale of breath from his nose each time Tony pushes back in, the drop of his head onto Tony’s shoulder as he cums.
He kisses Peter’s neck, running the tip of his nose along Peter’s jaw, “God, I missed this. I’m not letting you leave again.”
“T-Mr. Stark,” Peter clutches at him.
“So beautiful,” he says and traces his fingers down Peter’s throat, “You should always look like this. Fucked out of your mind and desperate for more.”
All Peter can do is nod, words beyond him at this point.
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@ironspiidey
Starker!Makeup drabbles for Peter’s return to the MCU… it’s a teeeny bit meta.
Part 1 and 2, Part 3
“You can unpack things later,” Tony says, tugging Peter from the dressing room and pulling him in.
“I mean, I can,” Peter smiles and sways with him, “I’d like to get it done, though.”
“Later,” Tony insists, kissing him, “Later, when I’m not here or something. Right now I want to spend all of the time I have with you.”
Peter stares at him and leans in to rest their heads together, “Can’t believe I was gone for over a month,” he says, melting into Tony’s arms.
“I know,” Tony sighs, his hand moving to Peter’s lower back, “Felt like an eternity to me. Every day… just made it that much worse.”
Peter pulls back to look at him, frowning, “You weren’t reading the articles, were you?”
“Every single one I could get my hands on,” Tony says shamelessly.
“Tony.”
“I know, I know,” Tony shrugs helplessly, chuckling, “I’m a glutton for punishment, what can I say? The memes alone were absolute torture. But I… I couldn’t help looking for those small glimmers of hope.”
Peter rolls his eyes, “People are so dramatic, /you’re/ so dramatic.”
“I live for the drama.”
Peter leans in and kisses him, “You know that if I had any choice in the matter, I’d stay here with you for the rest of my life.”
“I know,” Tony says, but there’ll always be a part of his heart that fears how unrealistic it really would be, for them to continue on without at least a few more hiccups on down the line.
“I love you.”
Tony smiles and kisses him, “I love you too, you know I do. I’ll always love you.”
Peter shakes his head, glancing away but then laying his head on Tony’s shoulder, “Maybe if you hold me hard enough, I won’t go anywhere.”
“We both know that doesn’t always work.”
“Try.”
“Alright.”
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@ironspiidey
Starker!Makeup drabbles for Peter’s return to the MCU… it’s a bit meta.
Part 1 and 2, Part 3, Part 4
I may have gotten a little Dom-y with this one, wherps...
Tony peers back out into the bedroom, frowning, “Peter?” he checks the kitchen and dining room, “FRI, where’s the kid?”
“Peter is downstairs, working in the lab, boss.”
“Jesus, you think he couldn’t stay out of there for one day,” he huffs, smiling and heading downstairs, pushing open the door quietly and slinking over to the workbench Peter’s standing at.
“You know I have super hearing, right?” Peter asks and Tony almost throws himself back dramatically, surprised.
He stops, turning to the one nearest and trying to feign innocence, “Uh, yeah, of course I do. Trying to sneak up on you would be really, really foolish. Especially since I’m a genius, I would never make that kind of rookie mistake, not in a million years.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“Your idiot.”
“You’re… oh,” Peter chuckles and glances at him, “Right, yeah, I guess so.”
Tony winks at him the moment their gazes lock, “Listen,” he clears his throat and moves over to Peter, “It’s been a few hours since I had my hands on you and, I gotta be honest… I’m going a little crazy.”
“Tony,” Peter gives him a look, “We can’t fuck /all/ day.”
“And we haven’t been,” Tony says innocently, smiling wide, “Not /all/ day. Just like… some of the day.”
“Tony-”
Tony moves in and kisses him, backing him against the workbench and lifting him to sit him on it, “I just want… you know, some attention.”
Peter sighs and looks at him like he’s /trying/ to be upset, but there’s the ghost of a smile that spoils everything, “Fine, fine. The sacrifices I make.”
“I know, baby, I’ll make it up to you,” Tony says lowly, palming the front of Peter’s jeans, “How about I take you out to eat tonight, hm? Something nice? Give the media a little tease of things to come… let them see that you’re back where you belong?”
Peter laces his fingers together behind Tony’s head, moaning when Tony drags his palms up the kid’s thighs, “I like the sound of that.”
“Mmm, I thought you might,” Tony pushes up the hem of his shirt, tracing his fingers up under, “My baby likes being the /center/ of attention, doesn’t he?”
“I-” Peter’s voice breaks off with a sharp whimper when Tony drags the rough pad of his thumb over Peter’s left nipple, “Yes,” he says helplessly, his legs clenching at Tony’s waist, “I… can… you…”
Tony lifts a brow, waiting, but Peter stammers more, “Take your time, baby. What are you trying to ask me?”
“Please…”
“Please what?” Tony breathes against his lips, their mouths barely touching, “Use your words.”
It’s always so easy to work Peter up from nothing. Taking him from mild interest to a puddle of goo in less than a minute. The poor kid couldn’t even speak properly.
Peter reaches out tentatively, touching Tony’s face.
“Ah,” he turns to nip a sensitive fingertip, “Better?”
“More,” Peter says, moaning when Tony takes his index finger into his mouth, flicking his tongue along the underside and then sucking slowly, “Mr. Stark-”
Tony smirks and pulls back, taking Peter’s small wrist in his hand and doing the same to each finger in turn until Peter’s sweating and tensing against him, clutching at his shirt with his free hand and tearing the fabric as he tries to rock forward.
“Nope, mm,” Tony holds his hip in place, moving his own back out of reach, “Not all at once, you know it’s better.”
“But-”
“Shh,” Tony touches his chin, turning his eyes back up, “I’m not gonna leave you out to dry, am I?”
Peter blushes and shakes his head, “No.”
“Right,” Tony confirms, “What does daddy give you?”
“What I need.”
“When?”
Peter shudders, “When… when I need it-”
“And not before,” they say together, Tony reaching out to run his fingers through Peter’s hair.
“Good boy.”
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@ironspiidey , @starkermydaddies (hope it was ok to tag you, you seemed to like the others ;) if not lmk)
Earth 23 Expansion - AO3 Series
Apparently he has just that amount of restraint when around a nice pair of… legs, and a big, sexy brain. Male or not.
Whumptober - 9. Shackled
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
(Flash back, cont’d from last but not same memory)
They’ve been captured and tortured since too many times to count.
Tony’s always with him or determined to follow it through that most of the time they’re together. And any time they’re not, it’s the other that finds them eventually.
When they’re taken by aliens, they’re at a slight disadvantage.
Even the containment cell they’re put in is completely unusual and foreign tech that Tony ponders at, moving over to check how the bars of energy flow through from the ceiling, down into the ground.
He tests his restraints but they’re nothing like handcuffs on Earth, which is a weird sentence to consider and makes his gut churn.
Still, he tries breaking them with his feet - his bare feet. He tries to break them with his teeth, on the little cot, on the energy bars, on the toilet (or that’s what he’s assuming the thing in the back corner is, he’s still kind of unsure).
“Come on,” he groans when one of the guards passes by his cell, “What’s the point of being in a cell /and/ being handcuffed? Isn’t it all a little redundant? I’m not going-”
He backs away quickly, pressing to the wall when the bars vanish and the guards drag in someone else, throwing them down on the ground before him and Tony recognizes Peter immediately, still wearing his red and blue suit, but not his mask.
Tony runs to the kid to check his pulse, turning him over and his blood runs cold.
“What did you do to him!?” he shouts, standing up and running at the guard, but the guy shoves him away effortlessly and leaves them, the bars coming back down in place, “Hey! What did you do!?”
Whumptober - 10. Unconscious
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9
(Flash back, cont’d from last)
Tony moves Peter to the only cot in the cell, mindful of how he lays the kid down. There’s no pillow provided, so he takes off his jacket and rolls it up, putting it under Peter’s head to give his neck some support.
He checks him over afterward, but even as he’s checking Peter, he can see the wounds healing and closing up.
For the millionth time, he reminds himself that he worries far too much for Peter. But it can’t be helped. It’s a burden he willingly takes on.
He combs the hair from Peter’s face and takes a seat near the end of the bed.
It’s been over an hour, and sitting on the ground to give Peter room to breathe is nice and all, but his back can only handle so much these days.
Unfortunately, he’s at the mercy of considering his future self.
No one comes back into the cell but the slide a couple of trays of food in. Tony moves everything over to one tray and immediately spends the time while Peter’s unconscious, testing the bars to see if the tray can separate the beams of energy.
It doesn’t work.
Instead, he ends up melting the tray along the edge he tests.
Peter eventually wakes up and Tony offers him the tray of food without another word, having not touched any of it himself.
He watches and waits as the kid eats every last thing on it, tossing it down with Tony’s tray and sitting back against the wall of the cell. A little color returns to his face, that fast metabolism kicking in and changing Peter’s entire demeanor before Tony’s very eyes.
“We getting out of here, sir?”
Tony smiles and nods, motioning to the wall behind Peter, “If you think you can do it, go ahead.”
Peter turns his attention to it and tests it, sliding his fingers over the surface before bracing himself. He reaches out, grabbing Tony and moving him behind Peter so that he’s properly guarded against any debris.
He slams his fist hard into the wall, punching through in one hit before he turns and grabs Tony, leaping out into the daylight beyond.
Whumptober - 11. Stitches
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10
(Flash back, cont’d from last)
“Do I /want/ to know why you’re good at this?”
“Probably not, sir.”
Tony shivers at the brush of fingers on the back of his shoulder before Peter grips his arm to hold him in place.
“Not any more,” Tony says defiantly, narrowing his brows, “You get bad like this, you come to me, is that clear?”
“Crystal, sir.”
Tony feels his cheeks heat and balls his fist.
“I’m sorry,” Peter apologizes suddenly, “Did I hurt you? I’m trying to be as gentle as-”
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Tony says, his voice coming out hoarse and ragged, “You’re fine, just… keep doing what you’re doing, it’s okay, Pete.”
Imagine, /he’s/ the one comforting Peter when the kid is the one with the curved needle, jabbing it into him repeatedly, granted he is certainly trying to be careful about /where/ he jabs that thing.
“A-are you sure? You just tensed up like a lot,” Peter explains, “If I’m doing something wrong-”
“You’re not doing anything wrong, christ, kid,” Tony growls out, looking back at him, “Keep going, okay? You’re doing a stellar job. Don’t worry about me.”
Peter presses his lips together and nods, determination set on his face as he gets back to it and finishes in less than ten more minutes, cleaning the stitching and wrapping it with gauze. Tony tenses once more here when the kid just barely ghosts his fingers over Tony’s right nipple.
He turns, taking the fabric from Peter’s hands and finishing it himself.
“Sorry, s-sir-I-!”
Tony stands up and pulls him in, holding him and wrapping his better arm around Peter’s waist, “Stop apologizing so much. You saved my life.”
Peter finally hugs him back, those tentative fingers gripping his shirt and holding onto him like a lifeline.
“We’ll get out of this, I promise,” Tony says, lips just next to his ear, “I’ll get you out of here if it’s the last thing I do, you have my word.”
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Whumptober
Aaaand, I gotta duck out. My ADD is all over the place, I’ve got like 15 things I want to write, but here’s the last of what I had written.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11
12. “Don’t Move” (Flash back, cont’d from last)
Sneaking through the alien base unnoticed is easier said than done.
The damn place is like a fortress, filled to the teeth with armed guards and soldiers stationed around at posts every few feet. But Peter manages to climb along the walls high enough that they disappear in the darkness above, with Tony wrapped around him in the front like some kind of baby monkey.
It was a horrendous debate that did not end in Tony’s favor, but Peter was right in the end.
This position was best for his stitches, even though that meant that his dick was pressed firmly and rubbing against Peter’s abs - and it took all of his willpower not to think about it like that.
Instead, he focused on a science-y side of it, observing how effortlessly Peter climbed even with a full grown man in his lap, legs around his waist, arms around his torso. Peter handled it like Tony weighed nothing at all. Okay, maybe it wasn’t good to think of it like that either.
They got out of the compound with little effort on Tony’s part and Peter finally let him down once they reached an area that was not so densely populated.
Tony rolls his shoulders and stretches them to try and get the feeling back, “Not a bad idea, k-” he nearly shouts when Peter pulls him in, back behind some foliage and covers his mouth to keep him from making any more sounds than he already has.
“Don’t move,” Peter whispers, then drags him back even further, pulling him down and covering Tony with his body.
It’s a little weird for a solid moment there.
Tony feels the heat rising to his cheeks but keeps quiet and keeps down as, quite suddenly, a group of guards run past them at full speed. Tony feels Peter press even harder into him, keeping him tight to the ground and out of sight.
13. Adrenaline (Flash back, cont’d from last)
Once they’re gone, Tony starts to get up again but Peter slams him right back down and another group of guards pass along the road.
Tony’s at the end of his willpower, too, and he winces when he feels Peter shift against his erection.
The kid looks at him with wide eyes. There’s nothing accusing in them, but Peter’s definitely surprised by this outcome. Well, hey, so is he. This was the last place he expected to get aroused in.
“Sorry,” he mutters, smirking, “I can’t help it when people do things like hold me down against my will and show me that they’re stronger than me with such little effort.”
Peter blushes, but smiles sheepishly, “Sorry, sir.”
“No, no, it’s fine. It’s not appropriate at all, but we’re all human.”
“It doesn’t bother me, Mr. Stark,” Peter tries to assure him, it’s a valiant effort from the kid and it’s flattering, but Tony doesn’t respond.
He stands back up and takes Peter’s wrist, “Let’s-” he stops when Peter flips their hands, yanking Tony in and lifting him in his arms, “What… what are you doing?” he asks as the kid starts running.
“I don’t know, sir, my spidey-sense is tingling,” Peter tells him and Tony starts laughing, “Stop, quiet. Listen, okay, I know it sounds weird but something’s wrong. I just… I stopped asking questions-”
“No, I know what it is. I know what you’re talking about,” Tony responds, still laughing, “Happy told me all about it, but it’s called your Peter Tingle, right? That’s what it is?”
Peter groans, “Sir, please don’t call it that.”
“What, and ‘spidey-sense’ is any better?”
“Yes,” Peter says firmly and shudders, “Oh god,” he leaps just in time to miss the large blade that passes through where they just were, holding onto Tony firmly and leaping through the trees instead.
“They’re onto us?”
“I think so.”
Tony curses lowly, “We were so careful getting out.”
“Someone must’ve noticed…”
“To be fair, we weren’t exactly quiet.”
Peter frowns, “I’m sorry-”
“Don’t apologize, don’t regret. Just get us out of here alive, kid.”
“Yes sir.”
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Oct 20: Candy and Sweets
Peter’s doing some last-minute sweeping when the bell at the door rings as it’s opened. He closes his eyes and mutters a low curse to himself. It was already so late, he probably should’ve flipped the sign or something, but he didn’t really expect anyone to come in after nine.
He turns and forces on the smile, surprised to see none other than Morgan Stark running up to the front display and pressing her fingers to the glass.
“Oh, hey Morgan,” he says and stops what he’s doing, setting the broom aside, “Just here to look?”
Morgan sighs out a low ‘yeah’, but then smiles widely when she sees some of the Halloween ones that Peter set out for the occasion, “You made bats!”
Peter nods, “Uh, yeah. Aunt May doesn’t like them, she thinks they’re rodents. But-”
“I love bats,” Morgan says just as he does and they share a look, “Daddy took me to see baby bats last year.”
“Really?” Peter asks, leaning over the counter, “Fruit bats?”
“Yes, I-”
He glances up when the bell goes off again and then feels his toes curl in his shoes when he sees Mr. Stark standing there just inside the door.
Oh god.
Morgan is one thing. She’s still kind of up on that celebrity level, but she’s still just a child - she’s only seven, but Mr. Stark on the other hand? He is it, he’s a celebrity’s celebrity, he’s Iron Man himself in the flesh. And so much more to Peter, so maybe he holds his breath.
“You in here, slugger? Ah,” Mr. Stark stops when he sees Peter and smiles that billion-dollar smile, “Wow, you’re really cute. You work here?”
Peter blinks and numbly motions to himself, “Uh, me?”
“Yeah, you,” Mr. Stark says and winks, “You work here?”
“I do.”
Mr. Stark offers his hand, “Tony,” he introduces himself, taking Peter’s hand in his and covering it with his left, glancing him over.
“Peter,” Peter responds, barely able to feel his mouth, “And I know who you are, Mr. Stark, everyone does.”
“Yeah, well,” Mr. Stark shrugs, “I try not to make that assumption. Damn, you are painfully attractive- sorry, that’s not appropriate,” he says and giggles, raising his hands, “I don’t do that, I promise. I haven’t been like that since the early aughts.”
Peter blushes furiously, “No, uh… no, it’s… it’s okay. Surprising? Yes. But… definitely okay.”
Mr. Stark clears his throat and points towards Morgan, “This is my daughter, of course, Morguna Stark, say ‘hello’, kiddo.”
“Oh, we’re well acquainted,” Peter assures him, grinning, “Morgan comes here at /least/ once a week.”
“/Does/ she?” Mr. Stark asks, turning to look at his daughter, then he leans in and speaks lowly, “She doesn’t order anything, does she?”
Peter shakes his head, “Nope, she just comes to look at the pretty designs of the pastries.”
“Good,” Mr. Stark watches his daughter then, “She’s as bad as me,” he supplies, still keeping his voice low, “Sweet tooth from hell and a bad sense of self-control.”
Peter chuckles, “I guess that explains the donut thing.”
“Ah,” Mr. Stark snaps his fingers, pointing at Peter, “My trademark. God, it’s like people associate me more with donuts than they do with science. I have one named after me now and everything.”
“I know,” Peter leans on the cash register, “On National Donut Day, it’s a staple in our shop.”
Mr. Stark throws out his hands helplessly, “Well, I’ve gotta-oh, bats,” he says when he finally notices the Halloween display, moving over and leaning down to look, “These are really cute. Normally you just see the generic ones, you know? But… these really are super cute,” his voice gets lower the more he says, taking a picture of the display and turning back to Peter, “Mind if I try one?”
Peter blinks for a moment, thrown off guard once again.
“Like I said,” Mr. Stark shrugs, “No self-control.”
Peter grins and grabs a tissue to get one of the cookies, snagging a second just in case.
“Oh, you’re an angel, you read my mind,” Mr. Stark takes them, offering one to his daughter as he bites into his own, humming in approval, “Cinnamon, was not expecting that, nice touch.”
“They’re actually assorted, I believe Morgan’s is just chocolate,” Peter says as he watches her, then looks back to Mr. Stark, “I knew you liked cinnamon, so uh…”
“You knew?”
Peter tenses and looks away, “Uh, yeah, yeah, uh… I mean I’ve-yeah-”
“Tell you what,” Mr. Stark leans on the counter and smiles at him, “I don’t normally do this, but if you can tell me what my /favorite/ flavor of ice cream is, I’ll give you something nice.”
Peter feels the blood start rising up again, “Uhm, uh… it’s super fudge brownie, right?”
Mr. Stark looks impressed, then motions with a nudge of his head for Peter to lean in, “That was good, you didn’t even really hesitate with your answer.”
“Oh come on, everyone knows-” Peter stills when Mr. Stark cups his cheeks and presses a kiss to his lips.
Peter responds, albeit a little late, kissing him back and grinning.
“I’m sorry, I don’t really do this, I’m a little rusty,” Mr. Stark says and pulls back, “Pretty sure I’m reading you right, though. Any chance you’re available to-”
“Yes,” Peter responds before Mr. Stark can finish what he’s saying.
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Oct 21: Paranormal
TW: Endgame follow-up, with alt Happy Ending for those that NEED it. E>
Tony had never given the afterlife much of a thought.
He was a realist, a scientist, so he approached it like many of his peers did.
People are made of stardust, they’re mass and they’re energy. And when they die, that energy /must/ go somewhere. Whether it was in the walls, the plants, the power lines around them… it went /somewhere/.
But when he gets up from his body, leaving it behind, and turns around to watch his loved ones mourn him, he thinks that he probably should’ve given it more of a proper look at - maybe then he would’ve been prepared for what he’s experiencing now.
He tries to go home with Pepper but his body gravitates further away from her until he realizes what’s pulling him.
Peter.
Of course it’s Peter that draws him away from his wife and child, like he always had over the last five years.
So maybe he goes… a little willingly.
But watching what Peter goes through in the following weeks is hard.
Watching him being taken advantage of and hurt and abused by Mysterio is even harder, but he accepts that this is his fate.
Where he had the ability to influence and affect everything around him in his life, he’s now being shown how little he can really control. And maybe how little he really controlled when he was alive. It’s hard to watch Peter cry and not wrap his arms around the kid.
He’s young and he’s had the fate of the world put on him.
More than once, Tony ponders just why the hell he was left in the afterlife, unable to move on.
Somehow, his spirit had latched onto Peter. And try as he might, he can’t be more than a few feet away from the kid, even with real effort.
Any time he tries to leave, he starts to hurt, starts to lose breath, and then Peter will move and tug him back.
But he can’t actually /do/ anything. So what’s the point of all of it?
Tony floats along with him as he swings through Queens, stopping at one of the many little vigils set out and folding his legs as he puts down a candle of his own.
It’s about that time, isn’t it?
A year has passed by like no time at all and Tony’s still here, completely incapable of moving on.
Tony sighs and sits down as well, looking up at the spray-painted image of himself - not Iron Man, but Tony specifically. He can only guess that that’s why Peter picked this one out of all of the others.
“I miss you,” Peter says, wiping his eyes and clearing his throat.
Tony blinks and looks over to him.
“This whole year… I’ve felt so lost,” Peter continues, voice trembling, “I made a lot of mistakes, had to deal with a lot of shit. If it wasn’t for the Avengers - or what’s left of them… and-and Matt Murdock - I’d probably be sitting in a prison cell right now, doing time for something I never even did.”
He narrows his eyes, remembering the painstaking hours he had to sit through in court, watching Peter and not being able to do a damn thing about it.
“I never stop thinking about you,” Peter takes a long, deep, shaky breath, “There were so many things I wanted to tell you. So much I wanted to say, but it never felt like the right time.”
Tony swallows tightly, “I’m still here, kid,” he knows Peter can’t hear him, but he says it anyway.
Peter blushes, staring up at the Tony Stark on the wall, at his eyes, then looking away, “Some of it I wonder how you’d feel. If you’d be upset or disappointed. You’d probably pick on me, make jokes.”
“Never,” Tony insists, clutching his fists.
“I’ve… never even said it aloud,” Peter clears his throat, wiping away more tears, “I couldn’t even say it to MJ in person so I just broke up with her over text.”
Ah, he’d /assumed/ as much. But Tony had decided early on that he wouldn’t snoop over Peter’s shoulders. He was already seeing /far/ more than he should, so reading his personal conversations with people seemed like a bit too much.
He still wasn’t sure if it was fortunate or unfortunate that Peter had trouble masturbating after Tony died, and had pretty much given up trying altogether.
Or that Peter and MJ stopped making out on the couch and eventually had just decided to be friends.
“MJ apparently knew before I told her,” Peter shrugs, then looks back up at the painting, “But I loved you, I always loved you. I knew it was stupid and hopeless and pointless, but I’ve loved you since I was a little kid. I never told you, but you saved my life. I was like six years old, and all I knew was that I wanted to marry you one day.”
Peter chuckles and Tony feels his heart clench in his chest as he wipes away more tears.
“It’s been a year,” Peter says, his voice really hoarse now, “And I keep waiting for it to get easier, and it’s not. And you’re everywhere I look, everywhere I go. I don’t think it’s ever going to get easier for me, like they all keep saying. And I feel like if I had just… been better, if I had done something more, or if /I/ had used the gauntlet instead-”
“No!” Tony shakes his head, gritting his teeth, “Don’t say that, don’t you dare even think it!”
Peter jumps back from him, turning with wide, wild eyes.
Tony blinks, still sitting there, feeling the rage burning in his blood, but it simmers quickly when he realizes that Peter is… looking at him.
“M-Mr. Stark?” he asks in disbelief.
“You… can see me?” Tony asks back, trying not to get his hopes up.
“Oh god, no no no no no,” Peter gets up from the concrete and runs.
Tony sighs and can’t help but be yanked along with him, following Peter all of the way back to his apartment, through the window (or, well, for Tony it’s through the wall).
Peter curls into a corner, shaking his head and covering his ears, “Oh god, he’s still alive, he found me. This isn’t real, it’s-” he looks up towards Tony and then throws himself flat against the wall, “Go away! Leave, I-”
“It’s really me,” Tony motions to himself, “It’s me, Peter. Look, I… I can prove it. I don’t have like a fun story about finding out you watched porn in a hotel room or anything like that (which is fine, by the way). But we’ve… had a few personal moments, I like to think. Granted, most of them I was angry at you, or distant. I really tried in the end, kid, I tried. But I /do/ have proof.”
Peter stares at him silently, those big brown eyes wide with fear and confusion.
“When you were snapped, when you died in my arms,” Tony says, moving closer, “You kept telling me that you didn’t want to go, but right before you vanished, you told me you were sorry. And that apology, that one, kid, that has /haunted/ me ever since. You didn’t need to apologize to me, Pete, it should’ve been the other way around - I failed you. I failed horribly.”
“M-... Mr. Stark?” Peter asks tentatively.
“It’s me,” Tony kneels down to level their eyes, “It’s me, I’ve been here the whole time. I just… you couldn’t see me. And I don’t know why or how you can now, but I’m not gonna question it, even if it doesn’t make any sense at all. But don’t you /ever/, ever - not even for a second - wish that our situations had been reversed on that battlefield. I took the gauntlet, it was my burden to bear.”
Peter shakes his head.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Tony sighs, reaching out to brush his cheek, “Don’t you know I would’ve died anyway, if it had been you?”
Peter’s bottom lip trembles and he leans into the touch, squeezing his eyes shut.
“You’ve gotta go on for the both of us, Peter.”
“I can’t, I-”
“Yes you can,” Tony says confidently, “You’re stronger than me, you always were. You’re the strongest Avenger, and you’ll get through this. Just never stop letting people into that beautiful heart of yours. Because, trust me, there’s a lot of lost and broken people out there that you’ll find, and they need someone like you to be that light for them.”
Peter stares up at him and the look on his face is absolutely heartbreaking.
Tony leans in and presses his lips to Peter’s, pulling back to gauge whether or not it was okay to do, but Peter just stares at him blankly, “I love you, Peter,” he says and starts to add something else to fill the silence when Peter launches himself up into Tony’s arms.
Honestly? He’s touched Peter, he’s kissed Peter, but he still thinks the kid is about to barrel through him and fall out the other end.
But he doesn’t.
They kiss and clutch at one another until they’re breathless. And that’s just it… for the first time in a year, he’s breathless.
“Stay with me,” Peter pleads with him, “Stay with me tonight.”
Tony smiles and shrugs, “I think I can swing that.”
Alt, happy end if you don’t want bittersweet one I gave:
Tony cracks an eye open and smiles slowly when he sees Peter staring up at him.
“I’m still here?” he asks, voice hoarse from sleep.
Peter nods, “I thought… for sure you-”
“Right, I did too,” Tony says honestly, searching Peter’s face, “How do I feel?”
Peter smiles finally, reaching up to trace his fingers over Tony’s chest, “Real,” he tells him, “Warm. Your heart is beating. And… you’ve been snoring a little.”
“Mhm, one of my many flaws.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Peter says, leaning in and kissing him, “I liked it.”
“You’ll get tired of it really fast.”
Peter hums and shifts their legs together, “Looking forward to it.”
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Oct 22: Halloween Party - Masquerade
(literally listened to Ghost’s ‘Dance Macabre’ while writing this)
Mmm, Tony is wearing something like what Jareth wore in Labyrinth, in the ballroom scene ‘As The World Falls Down’, could also listen to that as an alternative. His mask tho is more like this, and this would be Peter’s (oh, what Peter’s wearing)
Peter rears his head back from the man wrapped around him, eyes narrowed and nose scrunched in disgust, “Uh, I’m gonna go get a drink. Sorry, I’m… I’m not interested in… any-any of that…”
He moves away as quickly as his legs can take him, making a beeline for the refreshments and pouring a glass of pink lemonade. One glance around the room and his shoulders relax when he realizes that the man he was with has moved onto another unsuspecting victim.
Peter wasn’t averse to most of the things the man had whispered in his ear, but to be told like /that/ kinda skeeved him out a bit. Some of it could be nice in the right setting, with the right person.
Someone moves up beside him, taking the glass from his lips and Peter turns to ask just who the hell the guy thinks he is when he stops, eyes wide.
“Come dance with me.”
Peter’s eyes drop to the unmistakable beard and he tries to say something but just nods numbly and takes the hand offered to him.
“A young buck like you, out here in the hunting grounds,” Mr. Stark says, pulling him in close, “It’s dangerous to walk such a setting alone, anyone could snatch you up and eat you before you had the time to realize you were ever in danger in the first place.”
“Like you?” Peter guesses, his voice higher than he wants it to be.
“Oh, absolutely,” Mr. Stark says, smirking and moving his palm to Peter’s lower back, “It’s what I’m famous for, is it not?”
Peter lifts a brow, keeping his own arms up at Mr. Stark’s shoulders, tracing his fingers over the jewels on his jacket, “I thought you were famous for your advances in cold fusion, the arc reactor, and the advantageous endeavor to make the United States fully dependant on clean energy by 2025.”
“Mm, so my beard gave me away,” Mr. Stark tuts, “You know, I’d shave it off if it wasn’t the most expensive thing on me tonight. But it is.”
“Maybe you should’ve gone with a full mask.”
“That’s my side gig,” the older man shrugs and smiles, “Really didn’t want to spend yet another night as Iron Man. Plus, that’s also probably a dead giveaway.”
Peter chuckles and shrugs, “Can’t blame a gal for trying.”
“You like the suit?” Mr. Stark asks him. Peter can tell by the tone that he’s actually curious, so Peter gives it to him.
“Doesn’t everyone?” he asks back, then smirks, “Yeah, it’s not a bad look on you, neither is this.”
“Nothing’s a bad look on me, young buck, I could wear a garbage bag and still at /least/ come off as charming.”
He’s probably right.
“You don’t need a garbage bag to impress me, Mr. Stark.”
“Damn, it really is disappointing that you know who I am,” Mr. Stark says in a huff, even though he’s smiling, “Now I can’t take you from the party and surprise you in the car.”
Peter feels his blood start pumping faster, “Oh?” he asks, trying to remain calm.
“Would’ve been /really/ funny, getting on my knees and taking my mask off - would’ve been hilarious.”
On his knees? Is he implying…?
“I could /pretend/ to be surprised,” Peter suggests hopefully.
“Mm, it wouldn’t be as genuine,” Mr. Stark moves in closer as they continue to dance around the room in time with everyone else, speaking low into Peter’s ear, “What I really want to do is take you home with me and fuck you so hard that the shape of you stays imprinted in my mattress for at least a week.”
Peter lets out a shaky breath and has to swallow and resist the urge to wipe the sweat from his brow with his mask still in place, “Are you planning on eating me, Mr. Stark?”
Mr. Stark chuckles and responds honestly, voice getting even lower as his breath warms Peter’s skin, “Absolutely,” his hand moves lower, “I bet you here and now I could spend hours on just your cute little ass alone. I’ll eat you out until you can’t even spell your own name.”
Peter turned the last guy away for talking to him like this, but this time he probably couldn’t be paid to turn down the man pressed against him, looking like everything Peter’s ever wanted, even if it’s just this once.
“Okay, I-I’m willing to accept that challenge, sir.”
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Oct 23: Pumpkins
(this is a continued plot from day 1, Oct 20th, the bakery au but can be read without it)
Somehow, Tony managed to rope this gorgeous kid into carving pumpkins with Morgan and him.
What he /wasn’t/ expecting, was to be bombarded by the other Avengers on a day off. But things rarely ever go his way, least of all when he wants some very rare ‘me time’.
Peter’s eyes go comically wide when Thor himself strolls in and takes a seat at the counter.
“Ah, good,” he says, setting Mjolnir down on the counter, “Natasha /said/ you would be here, I am delighted to see that she was not mistaken. Have you got plans for All Hallows Eve, Man of Iron?”
“You mean tomorrow?” Tony glances up from where he’s helping Morgan, “Yeah? I’m taking my daughter trick-or-treating,” his brows narrow, “What-”
“Stark.”
Tony turns to the door as more of them come in, Clint and Dr. Banner, Rhodey, Cap, Bucky, and lastly Sam.
“Uncle Bruce!” Morgan shouts in glee, running around the counter to jump into his arms.
“We need your help.”
Tony stands up from his stool, smiling tightly at them all, “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m retired.”
“Tony,” Steve says, tone low and serious, “We can’t do it without you.”
Peter stares at all of them in wonder, but gravitates towards Tony as he moves from the counter.
“Nope, don’t ‘Tony’ me,” he says firmly, “You can’t butter up this old man. Last time I joined you on some stupid mission, I lost my left arm… temporarily. I almost lost my life. I’m way too old for this, and, you know… /I’m retired/. So no.”
Clint lifts his brows, “If I’m here, you’re going.”
“Except that I’m not,” Tony waves at him dismissively, “You wanna break a hip, you wanna embarrass yourself in front of the cool kids, that’s on you. But if I go out there and I don’t come back to my little girl, that’s on me. And I’m not doing that to her, so uh… leave, please? Unless /any/ of you are here to actually carve some pumpkins…”
“Or not…”
Tony glances around to Peter.
“Maybe you should go. They need you,” he says tentatively, “I can take Morgan trick-or-treating for you. If it’s just her not being able to go out that you’re worried about. Without Iron Man? I don’t like their odds.”
Tony smiles slowly and leans on the counter, “Yeah, what makes you think I’ve still got what it takes?”
Peter shrugs, “You haven’t been out of the game long,” he reasons, “You look better than ever, I think your comments about age might be an exaggeration.”
“Mm, words like that will get you /everywhere/ with me,” Tony says lowly, moving closer to Peter and resting a hand on his waist, “Where were you when I needed a cheerleader in my corner during Ultron?”
“In diapers, probably,” Clint says in disgust, looking away from them, “Why are you interested in a dinosaur?”
“I only look young because I was blipped,” Peter responds, smiling, “But yeah, I’m young. And you’re not wrong, I /am/ interested,” he says as he turns back to Tony, wetting his lips, “Very interested.”
Tony’s brows lift and Sam makes an ‘ooo, shit, kid’s got attitude’ comment that makes his smile grow wider, “You sure you won’t take it personally if I have to duck out now?”
Peter glances up towards the ceiling, considering it, “Only if don’t you come back and make it up to me.”
“Make it up? How?” Tony asks eagerly, picking his tea up off the counter and giving it a last stir, “Dinner? Movie? We could watch something scary. You could curl up against my side and hide your face when you get too spooked or grossed out.”
“That’s not a /bad/ idea. But I was actually thinking something more along the lines of…” Peter says slowly, then leans up on his toes to whisper in Tony’s ear.
Tony spits out some of his drink, coughing and spluttering and smacking his chest with his fist, “Jesus, kid, you’re going to kill me before I even head back onto the battlefield, then who’s gonna save these losers?”
Peter pulls back to smile up at him, “I also have like… one more condition.”
“Oh?”
“I wanna see you suit up.”
Tony clears his throat, “It’s not that slow. It’s not like stripping-”
“I know,” Peter shrugs, “I’ve watched compilations.”
“Tony, where did you /find/ this kid?” Rhodey asks curiously, somehow managing to sound both disgusted and intrigued.
Tony stares down at Peter, feeling ravenous for something that’ll have to wait, for an indeterminable amount of time, “It really doesn’t bother you that I have to go? Even though I’m retired? Even though it shouldn’t be my job? That doesn’t bother you?”
Peter chuckles, confused, “Why would it bother me? I know who you are.”
“Fair enough, but-”
“Do you /want/ it to bother me?”
Tony shakes his head hurriedly, “God no, I’ve been there. It’s exhausting. You’re not going to say-” he imitates his ex with his next lines, “‘I hate the suits, you should have shirts’ or… ‘There are better people, more qualified people’ or… ‘I can’t take this anymore, I never know if you’re gonna kill yourself or wreck the whole company’? Nothing like that?”
Peter blinks and then blushes, “I, yeah, no… definitely not. First of all, Mr. Stark,” a few of the Avengers chuckle, Sam actually /giggles/, “The suits are a part of you and they have been for a while. And you’re the /most/ qualified person. Also, I can take anything you can dish out, so, you know… try. You’re welcome to.”
Tony drags him in, kissing him and wrapping his arms around Peter, he pulls back just for a breath, “You sure?”
“Mhm,” Peter says and kisses him again.
He pulls back after a third and fourth, stepping away and tapping his chest twice to activate the bleeding edge armor, watching with delight as Peter’s eyes light up.
Tony leaves the helmet up as he turns to take Morgan from Bruce’s arms, “You okay with this too, kiddo?”
“Yes,” she says, smacking his chest, “Go be a superhero, Daddy.”
Tony brushes their noses together, “Well, I can’t say ‘no’ to the demands of Princess Morguna H. Stark, now, can I?”
She giggles and kisses his cheek, “Be careful.”
“Always.”
The room grows tense suddenly and Tony looks over from his daughter in the direction they’re all looking, stilling when he sees Peter at the counter, checking out Mjolnir in his hands.
Tony watches as he turns it this way and that way, looking at the design of the handle last.
“This thing is so awesome,” he says, impressed, and then he offers it over to Thor, “Cool hammer, I see why you use it all the time.”
Thor stares at him, eyes wide as he slowly takes it from Peter, “... Thank you… tiny one.”
Peter blushes when he realizes that everyone around them is staring at him, “Sorry, was I not supposed to touch it? Is touching it bad? Is it cursed?”
Rhodey turns to Tony, glaring, “You need to let this one go.”
“What?” Tony asks, looking at him and motioning to himself, “Me? I… what did I do? He’s the one that picked it up, I didn’t do-”
“He’s way too good for you, Tones, you’re just gonna hurt him,” Rhodey insists, “I would say that you don’t deserve him-”, (“Right,” Tony mutters.), “-but that’s a low blow and I’m sure you already know that, especially now.”
Sam adds a little insult to injury, “You gotta cut him loose before you clip his wings, man.”
“They’re not wrong,” Steve cuts in, brows drawn tight together.
Tony crosses his arms over his chest, nodding, trying not to feel so defensive, “Right,” he says again, frowning.
As focused on it as he is on trying not to lash out, he doesn’t miss Peter rolling his eyes, “I’d like to think I get a say in any and all of this,” Peter motions to them, “And I’m putting my foot down.”
Tony blinks in surprise, “Oh?”
Peter smiles at the others in the room, “Can all of you… please leave? Go wait in the car or something, I’d like to talk to /Mr. Stark/ alone.”
Bucky and Bruce chuckle, the rest of them slightly taken aback, but the Avengers themselves just… leave the house, without another question, not even a complaint. Maybe it has something to do with Peter literally lifting the unliftable, but, well…
Peter looks at Tony, walking around the counter and grabbing the bin of cookies and offering it to Morgan, “How about you show the team your awesome new bat cookies, I bet they’d like to try some.”
Morgan turns to him with hopeful eyes, “Can I?”
“Yeah, go ahead, slugger,” Tony winks at her, “Bruce’s favorite is vanilla.”
He waits until she’s out the door to turn to Peter, “I’m so sorry about all of this, honestly, kid. You don’t have to deal with any of it, they’re kind of right, you-”
Peter presses their lips together, kissing him hard and fast, one hand tugging his armor and him down by the collar, the other cupping his face in his helmet.
Tony moans, wrapping his arm around Peter and pulling him close, recovering from the brief, disarming kiss as he parts his lips and brushes his tongue over Peter’s, then pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. They’ve only really been at this for a few days, but Tony can already feel it settling in.
Peter kisses him a few more times, dropping his hands to Tony’s chest and staring up at him, “Your friends are jerks, don’t listen to them.”
“Yeah, I know,” Tony shrugs and winks.
“I mean it,” Peter says firmly, “I’m not ‘too good for you’, you’re too good for me. But do I care? No. I came today because I wanna be here. Fuck anyone who thinks either one of us is too good or deserves better.”
Tony hums lowly, “You really /are/ too good for me.”
Peter rolls his eyes, “Dinner, movie, and everything I said before?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe a little something-something with the suit on,” Peter suggests, running his hands down the metal plates of his ribcage.
Tony shifts only slightly, but God what he’d do to this kid if he had the time, “Yes, okay. If… that’s what you want.”
Honestly? The suit was always kind of his kink, never really Pepper’s. She didn’t even like kissing him while he was in it.
The thought of exploring such a thing at long last seems like a pipe dream he let go of back when he was young and spry enough to think of the /really/ creative things they could get up to with it. An almost forgotten desire that rises back up suddenly.
“Finish my pumpkin for me,” Tony kisses Peter’s lips and then his forehead, “I gotta go save the world… again.”
Peter grins, “Do it, and… you know, come back.”
“Promise.”
“I’ll hold you to it.”
“Please do.”
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Oct 24: Movies
(this is continued from day 1, Oct 20th, and Day 4, Oct 23rd, the bakery au)
“I like this more than the night in,” Peter says as he lays down in the back of the truck, curling against Tony (that’s right, over the last few days Mr. Stark turned into Tony and now that’s a thing).
“Mm, me too,” Tony mutters, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him closer as the previews play.
He brushes his fingers under the hem of Tony’s shirt, over the bandaging on his side, “Still sore?” he asks as he tries to touch as gently as he can.
“A little,” Tony’s lips brush Peter’s hair and he turns, tilts his head up, and meets his mouth.
Kissing Tony is always like taking a breath of fresh air. It’s somehow exhilarating and calming at the same time.
They haven’t had the chance to be close, not really. They were both kind of busy most of the time, or in the company of others.
Between the shop and Tony’s house, they’ve only had spare minutes to share in privacy.
It’s difficult to form any kind of relationship around that, but Tony seems very patient. Thankfully, because Peter is kind of going a little insane Who would’ve thought /he/ would be the one that would be tested, when he complained that his peers were always moving too fast.
He and Tony have already kind of, sort of, talked about this being something serious - although their hand was forced prematurely by the Avengers before even having a chance to consider it themselves (or, well, Peter’s considered it… since he was like 6).
And Peter wants it, honestly - of course he does. He’s ready for something serious.
He doesn’t doubt that Tony is too, but… it’s hard to gather who’s on what page when he’s still trying to figure out if Tony can stand him or not. Or if he’ll eventually get on the man’s nerves.
Peter’s heard the horror stories of meeting your heroes. And Tony was, and still is, his hero.
But he’s been nothing but an actual /angel/ in comparison to what he’s been portrayed as by the media.
“You’re thinking a little loud there, champ,” Tony says suddenly, startling him from his thoughts, “Wanna share with the rest of the class?”
Peter smiles sheepishly, “That obvious?”
“A little. But I’m also painfully perceptive.”
“Sorry.”
Tony shrugs, “Don’t be. Any chance those thoughts have to do with me leaving during our pumpkin carving?”
Peter looks at him, confused, “Uh, no, why?”
The older man smiles then, but Peter can /tell/ it’s forced, and that bothers him.
“No reason,” he says, trying to sound nonchalant, but Peter’s not buying it, “Just wondering if you’ve gotten tired of me yet.”
Peter huffs a laugh, “Honeymoon phases typically last six months to a year,” he turns into Tony, resting his chin on his chest and then moving to sit up on his elbow to try and convey the seriousness of what he’s about to say, “Actually, what I was thinking was, uhm… am I… are we moving too fast?”
“Sorry, kid, I know one speed and one speed only,” Tony apologizes, “And that’s full speed ahead. Is it too fast? I can try to tone it down if it’s making you uncomfortable.”
“No, no, I’m not uncomfortable at all,” Peter blushes, “I was… actually worried I’d make /you/ uncomfortable by moving so fast that you might… start running in the opposite direction.”
Tony makes a sound like Peter’s brought up a good point, “No, you’re right. I suddenly feel less attracted to you.”
Peter punches him lightly, smirking when he lets out a weak huff and chuckles, pulling Peter in closer to him, as tight to him as probably possible.
“Don’t hit me, I’m all mushy right now.”
“I’m beginning to think you’re mushy /all/ the time,” Peter responds, but presses a few kisses to his neck, “You’re such a bleeding heart, Tony Stark.”
Tony hums lowly and Peter shivers when he feels the press of fingers in his hair.
“You still haven’t told me what movie we’re watching.”
“You’ve probably never heard of it.”
Peter rolls his eyes, “Please, I’ve watched all the classics. I doubt you could surprise me. Is it… Dead Alive?”
“No.”
“The Thing?”
“No.”
“The Frighteners? The Evil Dead? Friday the 13th?”
“All really good movies, but no, no, and no.”
Peter makes a motion like zipping his mouth as the movie finally starts, watching in silence until the title finally shows and he looks at Tony, brows lifting, “Cooties? What /is/ this?”
“Zombie movie, shh.”
“Okay, okay, shh-ing,” Peter agrees and settles back down, smiling when he feels the warm fingers touch his, lacing together.
They’re huddled there in the back of the truck together until the movie finishes and then Tony drives Peter back home while Peter asks him anything and everything he can think of about the movie - the logistics of zombies and how they became what they did in the movie, how it was spread, how they each would likely handle something similar.
It was nearly midnight by the time they reached Peter’s house and Tony parked the car in the driveway and turned to smile at him in that way that made Peter’s stomach flip.
Tony started to open his mouth when Peter spoke before him.
“Do you… maybe… wanna come inside?”
Tony’s mouth closes again and he smiles, “Sure.”
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Oct 25: Costumes
Tony is shameless when it comes to his daughter.
He can’t help it.
At this point, he would do or give anything to Morgan to make her happy. So, when she says she wants to dress as Little Red Riding Hood and that she wants him to be the big bad wolf, he agrees.
He dresses the part, he chaperones her trick-or-treating experience and even joins a group of mothers out with their own children when Morgan learns that some of them are friends she knows from school.
Tony gets a lot of laughs for his costume, but he humors them and makes the appropriate comments about people with eyes too big or noses to big, or things that are all the better to do whatever with. It’s a fun little back and forth and Morgan delights any time he says something of the sort.
She’s having a good time, and that’s what matters.
What he doesn’t expect is, halfway around the block, they’re joined by a few rambunctious teenagers. And one of them… is-
“Mr. Parker,” Tony says in delight and smiles when Peter turns those big brown eyes on him.
The kid’s outfit is actually killing him.
Peter joins him as the rest of the kids run up to knock on the door of a house, smiling widely, “Mr. Stark,” he responds, looking Tony over, “You look good.”
“I look like a joke,” Tony chuckles, lifting a brow, “What the hell are you wearing?”
Peter holds his arms out, looking down at himself, “What… you don’t like it?”
Does he?
Tony looks Peter up and down and lets out a slow breath, he /does/ like it. He likes it too much.
“It’s… not bad, kid,” he says and forces a tight smile on his face.
Peter grins, “I worked pretty hard on it,” he poses, putting his hand out like Tony does, “Even lights up and everything.”
“It’s safe though?” Tony asks, eyeing the repulsor as it lights up.
“Oh yeah, it’s completely safe.”
“Cool beans,” Tony talks around him, “Yeah, it’s not bad.”
“You’re not so bad yourself, sir.”
Tony lifts a brow, “Oh? That so?”
Peter’s eyes drop over him and, oh lordy, he actually feels nervous with the way the kid’s eyes come back up to his.
“Yes, sir.”
Not sure where I was going with this, but I kinda got... stuck. Enjoy? You can buy me a ko-fi or join my Patreon for lots more Starker stuff early and some exclusives, live writing etc…
Oct 26: Vampires
Tony checks the neck of the victim and stands back upright, “Can’t say I’ve seen an attack this messy in years,” new Vampires weren’t really his thing anymore (a man of his talents was often called on to handle the real threats), but he was in town and he had time to kill.
The people of Sweet Hollow were shaken by such an attack in what was normally known as a safe settlement.
“Not even a day old,” he shakes his head as he stares down at the young woman, “And they’ve already started a body count.”
He takes his gloves off and turns to the crowd of police standing back yards away, as if the corpse could jump up and bite them at any moment.
The thing that bothers him most is that he’s sure this isn’t their first kill. There was likely a victim somewhere else in town that they don’t know about, and this one just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.
It’s up to him to determine if the fledgling is salvageable.
This woman’s death wasn’t premeditated. It probably came with the Vampire’s first real sense of thirst. Likely, it saw the lining of her neck and couldn’t hold itself back. And then fled quickly afterward in shame, tearing off into the night for fear that it was going to be hunted down like an animal.
Tony could be sympathetic if he had to be, but that would have to wait to be seen. If they were remorseful, or felt any kind of guilt, they could be an asset instead of another notch on his knife handle.
“She won’t be back up,” he assures them, but the still cower back, “She’s dead for good, and this fledgling is probably sire-less, unguided, and out of check by his kind. They didn’t even drink much from her, so they’ll probably attack again within the next twenty-four hours. But, if you’re feeling squeamish, you can dispose of her properly and I’ll lay in wait. Any chance you men have someone that’s not afraid to get their hands dirty?”
The men all look at one another, muttering amongst themselves before the one at the center speaks up.
“There’s an orphaned man that lives down by the lake with his Aunt to the west of here,” he says, “He’s young and strong, and he does all sorts of odd jobs for the town. If you need someone to assist you, he would probably be the best chance, as he doesn’t have a profession or any obligations to speak of.”
“I’ll pay him a visit,” Tony walks to his horse and climbs up, glancing back at the men, “If you need me, send word there. If not, I’ll be back at the local inn, or your pub. But I hope not to see any of you ‘til morning.”
<hr>
The lake wasn’t too far West, and Tony was familiar with the area, having been there a few days already. But it was getting dark and the forest outside the town was eerie and fogged from the last rain.
Fortunately, there’s only one house out here and Tony breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that there are candles still lit in the windows. He stops his horse at the steps going up to the front door, tying her and making his way across the deck.
The door opens before he even reaches it and a young man peers out from the darkness within.
“H-... how can I help you?” the kid asks, looking him over and then visibly tensing, “Are you… who I think you are?”
Tony takes off his hat and rests it at his chest, “That depends on who you think I am, kid.”
The young man can’t be older than twenty, twenty-three at the most, with large brown eyes the color of bark from a healthy pine tree, skin fair, but with a sickly purple tinge, and mousey brown curls atop his head that have been given free range.
“You’re… the Vampire Hunter, Tony Stark,” the kid wets his lips and Tony doesn’t miss how the gaze drops from his own eyes, but then pop right back up, “You’re a legend, I’ve seen pictures.”
“They never seem to get the eyes right,” Tony teases and smiles, pleased when the kid nods, “You know why I’m here?”
The young man’s eyes widen with fear, “I-I… no, sir! No, I don’t know why you would-... why anyone… anyone not from around here, would come to see me. How-... how can I help you, sir?”
Tony chuckles, it’s been a long time since he’s made someone so flustered. Half his days in the last several years have been spent in the deepest, darkest caves, fighting monsters with untold strengths. He’s a little rusty, but he’s sure that what the kid is experiencing is a mix of fear /and/ lust.
“The police in town said that you do a lot of odd jobs,” Tony tilts his head, “I don’t need you for anything unusual, but how well do you know this town?”
“Like the back of my hand, sir,” the kid tells him confidently, relaxing, “I know it well, sir, very well.”
“Good to hear,” Tony motions inside, “May I come in?”
Instead, the young man comes out and closes the door behind him, “I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. My aunt is… she’s very ill.”
Tony doesn’t say it, or point it out, but he can tell the kid is lying the moment the words come out.
“She’s been sick for two days already,” the kid tells him, “I don’t think it’s good you come in.”
Perhaps his aunt is fond of the drink, or that it is simply a family matter, either way, Tony lets it slide and nods in understanding.
“Then would you accompany me?” he asks patiently, “I’d like your help tracking down a Vampire.”
And just like that, the kid is tense again, “V-V-Vampire? You think there’s a Vampire in Sweet Hollow?”
“I know there is,” Tony tells him, “A young one, fresh in the world, and I need to find it before it kills its next victim. What’s your name, son?”
“P-P-I’m… I’m Peter,” the kid clears his throat, “Peter Parker, sir. So the Vampire killed someone?”
Tony nods, “A young woman. And I need your help, someone that knows this town well enough will be invaluable in my search.”
“Yes, sir,” Peter agrees finally, “But isn’t-... aren’t new Vampires a bit under your pay? You’ve fought so many more… taken down full covens. This seems like child’s play, sir.”
“For me? Yes,” Tony chuckles, “I’ve got a few days to kill and I might as well help put these folk’s minds to rest. How about you get your coat and shoes, and we’ll be on our way?”
“Yes, sir, of course.”
Peter leaves him there at the door, walking back inside and Tony heads over to his horse to free her from where he’s tied her up.
She tenses when Peter joins him, but Tony eases her back down and climbs up first, offering a hand down to the kid and hoisting him up onto the saddle with him, shifting a little to make the space more comfortable.
<hr>
Peter’s knowledge of the town is quite invaluable, but more so… the kid is painfully smart.
Tony learns as much as he can in the short time they spend hunting the tracks from the initial crime scene and setting a parameter up with the town’s defense force.
During that time, though, Peter exhibits some startling symptoms. And Tony, being who he is, pins them all as they reveal themselves.
The first sign that something his amiss is the gaze flickering when they’re face to face.
Tony could put it up to Peter being uncomfortable with talking and looking at someone, but it’s… specific, where he’s looking.
The second sign is that the boy keeps licking his teeth.
It’s an obvious symptom of Vampirism that Tony is quite familiar with and so he is always one to keep an eye out for such a thing. Some can lick their lips to relieve dryness, but Peter isn’t doing that specifically.
Those two, paired with how easily Peter tries to steer him from facts about the case, keeps his hands out of Tony’s reach at all times, gets visibly uncomfortable in crowds, and is quicker and quicker to shadows as the morning passes into day are all Tony needs to begin plotting the revelation that he’s aware of Peter’s current condition.
But how to do it?
Peter could react violently if cornered, he’s got nothing to lose.
Especially against someone like Tony. Nothing to lose but his afterlife.
Tony eventually settles on a forward approach. He leads them back out to the lake for privacy, this isn’t a conversation that others need to overhear or interrupt.
The moment Peter’s started up the steps, trying to make excuses for Tony not to go inside, he hooks a foot under the vampire and brings him down to the ground in an effortless flurry of trained movements. He straddles the kid’s torso, sitting comfortably on his chest with his knees holding down Peter’s shoulders.
At this angle, there’s nothing Peter can do to bite or claw him, his legs low on the steps and unable to get any kind of leverage beneath him.
“I’ve been onto you since the moment I met you kid, but you’ve gotta level with me. I need you to be honest.”
Peter’s eyes stare up at him, wide and wild and terrified.
“You’re the vampire, but you didn’t mean to kill her, did you?” Tony asks, staring at him coldly, “Tell me the truth.”
Had Peter been human still, he would’ve cried. But Vampires don’t cry and Tony sees the strain of sadness on his face as his features twist.
“No, you didn’t,” Tony says more confidently, “It was an accident?”
“It was an accident,” Peter confirms, “I… I didn’t mean… I didn’t mean to…”
“Of course you didn’t, you seem like you’re a good kid.”
Peter stares up at him, “I…” he looks conflicted, confused, too terrified to hope, “What does that mean for me? What are you going to do?”
“Well, I suppose that depends on you,” Tony says as he rests back, still tensed for the kid to try to jump at any given moment, “You killed another person before her, who was it?”
“My aunt,” Peter confides, “I didn’t mean to with her either, I couldn’t help myself.”
“Do you wanna get better? Do you wanna be a good person? Do you even care to keep your hunger in check?”
Peter nods, “I do,” he responds easily and Tony smirks.
“Alright, well, let’s see how well you can do just that,” Tony reaches down to the boy’s face, grabbing his jaw and rubbing his calloused thumb across Peter’s lips.
The kid doesn’t do anything at first, waiting, as though he’d not sure what Tony wants him to do.
“Drink,” Tony growls out, “Drink, and take it /slow/. Not like you did with Ms. Baker.”
Peter hesitates, and then bites.
“Careful, careful with me,” Tony guides him, watching those brown eyes turn red, staring up at him as if waiting for him to attack Peter now that he’s dropped his guard, “You’re doing good.”
Peter’s eyes eventually flutter closed and he lets out a soft, whimpering moan that bristles through Tony.
“Alright, stop,” Tony says after a moment and those red eyes are back on him, longing and desperate, but letting go of him the moment he tells him to.
Tony takes his hand away and carefully stands back up.
Peter waits, but sits back up eventually, his knees close to his chest as he rocks, “So… you’re not gonna-”
“No, but we should leave as soon as we can, if we don’t want to risk the chance of you being found out,” Tony says as he wraps up his thumb, “For now, you’re riding in the front, at least until I can get you a proper mount. Call me crazy, but I don’t want you behind me, staring at my neck the entire ride out of town.”
Peter looks away in shame.
Tony huffs, “Don’t give me that, come on. Let’s go.”
The kid gets up and follows him back to his horse, “If you’re… taking me out of town… are you… gonna train me?”
“The best I can,” Tony admits, smiling sadly, “It’ll give you a chance in this world, so long as it’s what you want, and so long as you plan to do good things with what you have.”
Originally I was going to write Werewolves instead because I’m not a HUGE fan of vamps, but then I started writing this for someone in my Discord and, well, it fit, so why not? Enjoy? You can buy me a ko-fi or join my Patreon for lots more Starker stuff early and some exclusives, live writing etc…
...Regardless, Peter has a soft spot for Tony Stark, who is the greatest being ever lived, saved half the universe, and Peter by extension, more than once, and is waiting here, in Queens, by Peter’s door.
And Peter might be sad and hopeless and should probably tattoo nevergonnahappen over his heart, or better on his ass, as a conversation starter, since it’s all the action he's been and will continue getting from older guys he meets on Grindr about once a quarter. But he isn't impolite or ungrateful for everything Tony’s done or at least tried and offered to do for him after May died, when Peter fucked it up so very bad, with Tony having to unfuck it.
So Peter nudges him aside—drunk or not—and jiggles the key in the stiff lock with a weak "Hey," really wishing for a stiff drink himself if only it worked on him.
[or]
Tony's been dodging Peter for months, only to crash his photo show without warning and ruin his big day. Because... reasons.
Now, I am incredibly biased and very much guilty of harassing @madeforstarker into making this moodboard for me for my fic, but I think it's perfect. I've got almost no words and, if I do, they are mostly squealing noises and incoherent rambles. I love it nearly as much as Peter loves Tony. Feeeeeels.
• not anymore • by @maukree ♡
...Regardless, Peter has a soft spot for Tony Stark, who is the greatest being ever lived, saved half the universe, and Peter by extension, more than once, and is waiting here, in Queens, by Peter’s door. And Peter might be sad and hopeless and should probably tattoo nevergonnahappen over his heart, or better on his ass, as a conversation starter, since it’s all the action he's been and will continue getting from older guys he meets on Grindr about once a quarter. But he isn't impolite or ungrateful for everything Tony’s done or at least tried and offered to do for him after May died, when Peter fucked it up so very bad, with Tony having to unfuck it. So Peter nudges him aside—drunk or not—and jiggles the key in the stiff lock with a weak "Hey," really wishing for a stiff drink himself if only it worked on him.
[or] Tony's been dodging Peter for months, only to crash his photography exhibition without a warning and ruin everything. Because—reasons.
Drop whatever you are doing and go read this. It kills right in the feels.
Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Stripper!Peter AU
“Tony Stark is coming to the VIP tonight and Bucky picked me to go,” Peter tells MJ as soon as he finds her, just starting to get ready. He has to breathe through his nose and not make any sudden movements or else he’s going to freak the fuck out. And he can’t freak out. He agreed and Bucky asked him multiple times if he’s sure and Peter said yes, yes, of course he’s sure. Shake ass for Tony Stark? No biggie. Sign him up.
It is a biggie.
It is a huge, giant biggie.
Explicit, angst, POV Peter, falling in love, 24K words.
🖤💵🌃