sweetsickcherry

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#sugar baby peter #sugar baby verse #THIS IS HOW TONY WOULD DRESS PETER UP WHEN THEY GO ON DATES

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baby in pink.

#cant get enough of the pink hoodie oh my god #tom holland

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Tom Holland ！ Happy birthday ！

#oh my gosh #i actually stopped breathing #so pretty #fan art

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Imagine Tony making sugar baby Peter wear these outfits when they make public appearences as a couple. Sleek, slinky, skin-tight suits with cut-outs that Peter swears were designed for women. And, no, Tony says, he can't wear a shirt underneath.

"Tony, I can't, I'm showing so much skin," Peter whines, as Tony uses a firm hand to drag him from the penthouse. He continues to complain frantically in the back of the car, as Tony leans back and adjusts his own cufflinks, ignoring his babbling boy.

When they pull up, and the driver comes round to open the door for them, Peter grabs Tony's wrist and pleads with glassy eyes.

"Please, Mr Stark, don't make me. I don't belong in these clothes."

He's silenced as soon as Tony takes him by the chin, dark eyes peering at him over the top of his tinted glasses.

"You're my beautiful boy, and I'm going to show you off as much as I want, in any way I want. You got me? Tell me you understand."

And Peter deflates, nibbling on his lip anxiously at the sight of all the people and cameras waiting just outside.

"Got it," he agrees, and Tony nods, rubbing a thumb roughly over the boy's bottom lip before getting out the car. He extends a hand to help Peter out, and Peter takes a deep, dizzying breath before taking it. The cameras flash as soon as he steps onto the sidewalk.

Pics from Haider Ackermann Spring 2020 RTW collection

#starker #starker drabble #sugar baby verse #fashion baby verse #i can't stop writing about tony dressing peter up #cw: d/s #cw: wealth kink

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keep you sweet

HC that Peter is severely allergic to peppermint following the bite, which means no peppermint candies or treats for him. One day Peter eats a sugar cookie that he doesn’t realize is infused with peppermint until he’s swooning in a dead faint. Cue Tony shouting and swearing next to Peter’s hospital bed and threatening to put the bakery that made the cookies out of business.

“Please don’t do that, Mr Stark,” Peter begs softly, his eyes glassy and skin feverish. “It’s run by the sweetest Polish couple and they make the most amazing cakes. Please don’t take their bakery away from them.”

Tony hushes the boy, gently pushing him back against the plush pillows, calling him “honey” and “lamb” and assuring him he won’t do anything like that. But he will make sure that there’s a city-wide ban on peppermint going forwards.

All the other Avengers roll their eyes in the background.  

#starker

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🍁 Autumn will bring prosperity.

🎃 Autumn will bring release.

🦉 Autumn will bring wisdom.

🔮 Autumn will bring peace.

#please

[sweetsickcherry]

This is *so* gorgeous. I absolutely love the line "Like Tony, autumn came hard"; Tony winning a stuffed cat for his baby; and all the seasonal softness. Also, sweet yet severe Tony finally losing his cool and dragging his boy into line by the nape of his neck *melts*

More please please please 💕💕💕

Not very seasonal, but here's an idea: Peter is super bratty after finally getting together with Tony. But what Tony doesn't realize that Peter is *trying* to push his buttons, and is more worried about hurting his sweet innocent little flower, when all Peter wants is to be pushed down *forced* to obey. Eventually Tony gets the idea when Peter pushes him too far. Bonus points for public humiliation.

Public humiliation is my kink. Leave it to me to work something seasonal in. You lounge back and savor. Thank you for submitting your request!

Peter had griped about each date that followed becoming exclusive with Tony. Venues Tony had chosen were too formal; their food had been plated too fancy; the clubs were too crowded, too loud. He’d scoffed at clothes Tony bought him, disdain for elaborate fabrics and fitted suits, and Tony was losing his patience with each complaint. Yet, he wanted the boy—ripe at 18—so he endured all voiced displeasures if it meant he could keep him around and eventually fuck him.

For a month, Peter inflicted unending criticism. His favorite remarks were, “No,” and, “I don’t like this.” Tony determined that Peter was not only spoiled, but also a brat. The instant he’d speak up, however, Peter would pout.

Tony didn’t much care for brats, nor their pouts, but Peter made him soft, he’d admit. “Okay, baby. We’ll do something else.” Then something else, they’d achieve. Peter had even begun to suck Tony’s cock.

And what could Tony be, if not wholly grateful? How could he sit on his couch, legs kicked apart, a gorgeous and inexperienced boy gripping his dick at the base while softly—eyes locked to Tony’s—suckling the head?

Like Tony, autumn came hard.

The breeze was crisp. Tony had long since adjusted the tone of their dates. But as though Peter had learned the power he held in the dark of his throat, the bitchy behavior kicked up the more cum he consumed.

“I don’t like that cologne. Like, at all,” Peter said. He was combing his hair in the bathroom of some swank hotel. “Maybe you should try something lighter.”

“Kid. I’ve been wearing this same cologne since the day we met.”

“Yeah, but, it’s harsh.”

Tony’s jaw ticked.

“C’mon. Please, Daddy? Just...try.”

It wasn’t right. And the crude way Peter reached into Tony’s robe, well, that wasn’t either.

Tony stayed up late that night, long after their outing. Peter was slumbering, pliant and naked and quite unfucked beside him, unaware of Tony’s distress as he stared at the ceiling. How could he give one this much of his time and his money, his unsplit attention, only to be met with dissatisfaction?

That weekend, Tony decided to try something different: a local fall festival—carnival rides included. They dressed comfortably. Tony fed Peter smoked turkey; he snuck the boy beer. There were games, and Peter liked those, so Tony bought tickets.

“Win me something good,” Peter said at Tony’s side, and the pressure was thick when Tony took hold of the gun. Those water sports were absolutely rigged, he soon determined. Still, he came out in the end with a stuffed little cat.

“It’s ugly. And too small, I wanted a big one.” Peter tossed it. He chucked it over his shoulder and never looked back.

A bulb of heat expanded from Tony’s chest into his face. It climbed from his arms to his fists. He snatched Peter close.

“I’ve fucking had it.” His lips scraped Peter’s temple. The hand on Peter’s nape began to constrict. “Pick it up. Now.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Peter inched—with Tony attached—toward the toy. He bent over. He picked up the thing and dusted the straw from its butt.

“Apologize.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“No. To it.”

Peter’s eyes flashed. Tony shook him good and his hand didn’t slip.

“I’m sorry,” he said to the cat. “I didn’t mean it.”

“Yes you did. But we’re gonna fix this attitude. Aren’t we? Aren’t we?”

Peter nodded. That is, as much as he could with Tony holding his neck like that.

“Say yes.”

“Yes, Daddy. Yes. I’m s—”

“Shut up.”

They walked off, with the carnie regarding them warily as they went.

In the Ferris wheel line, Peter was curiously quiet. Tony watched—gaze fixed and cold; arms crossed—as Peter hugged the cat. There were tears in his eyes. There was also a sweet little bulge in the crotch of his shorts.

It was then that Tony deduced what all this meant and how to treat Peter. Peter glanced up, then away, avoiding the look. They boarded in silence.

#dollmeatpie #starker #hot like hot cocoa #the most beautiful writing #ngh

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Oh my gosh, so cute! Also wheezing at "helicopter daddy" 😂😂😂

〈doodle〉

they are so cuteeeee!!

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i need to know how hard you think peter would pant after tony and his new prosthetic arm post endgame. would he jerk off constantly thinking about it, fantasizing about mr stark using his new appendage to pin peter down or crush him against his chest? would he imagine being forced to the floor and sucking on mr stark's prosthetic fingers as he humps shamelessly against his bed in the middle of the night? and would he shove three fingers inside his own needy hole as he thinks about mr stark sinking his hard metal fist into him inch by inch?

#starker

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EXCUSE ME. How have I never seen this???

The HoCo NBA special is a great reminder that:

A) Tony hangs out with Peter and invites him to his very exclusive events 😏

B) Peter dresses up and tames his hair to meet daddy 😏

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ERM WHAT

TUFF TURF (1985)

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

#oh my god

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Now need fic about Peter on Tony's yacht, with wild curls and a pink hoodie, obviously.

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#oh my god #baby! #this is beautiful

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Omg I just thought, where is the rpf au where Tom is RDJ's son from his first marriage – Tom Downey! – who grew up away from his dad in England, but still followed in his footsteps by getting into dance and acting. When he auditions to be Spider-Man, everyone's like, "This is gold! Peter Parker played by Downey's real-life son!" and he gets the part easy.

And at first Robert is over the moon too. He finally gets to spend quality time with his son, and make up for all the time he wasn't there when Tom was growing up. And he flaunts him around on set and in interviews, like, "check out my talented, beautiful son", but the problem is, he's starting to notice Tom a little too much. How beautiful he is, how soft and sweet. That he's growing too possessive of the boy. And as father and son grow closer, Robert realizes he wants to give Tom a lot more than just fatherly love... ;)

#rom howney #fic thoughts #i am trash #but i want to read this so bad

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Me reading fics on ao3.

If I choose you over sleep, you must be very very special.

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ngh @dollmeatpie writes the most beautiful Starker fic. I want to bask in this world, and eat honey chicken and spread out in a huge, soft bed soaked in moonlight. You make me feel every word, and I always want more.

Pumpkin-colored Crumbs

Some weeks following Tony’s abduction of Peter, the pair explores an overdue, intimate moment. Part II/III of Forbidden Meat.

Contains: A/B/O dynamics; werewolves; mating bond; D/s undertones. Rated lime.

That liminal cold which sets between autumn and winter is now abundant. Tony slouches further in his seat. The wine-colored cashmere at his throat crawls up his neck and pools beneath his salt-and-pepper stubbled jaw.

On the monitors spread on his desk, the resident cook tends honey fried chicken; betas patrol the grounds; and there’s one alluring, napping omega mate. Tony rubs his face in a rather contemplative trance. The chill will soon creep in the dungeon. He’ll have to move Peter.

Of course, he’d never intended to leave his prisoner, well, a prisoner, but Tony hasn’t trusted his own restraint. Whenever he’d visit the boy, his fragrance alone roused something in Tony that the Alpha wasn’t prepared to unspool from himself. And then he’d remember, alone in his bed come morning when he’d retire, that Peter—and the rest of this mess—was Tony’s own impulsive design.

What had he done?

And, also: never mind it. He’ll fix it—just as he does his intelligent mass of machines.

“Sir,” comes JARVIS’s startling, mannerly voice. “Your dinner is ready.”

Tony descends to the kitchen to gather a plate. When he meets Peter’s room, the chicken in one hand, his key in the other, he finds his head is light; his chest a bit squeezed.

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#starker #dollmeatpie #fic rec #so gorgeous #and dark #sink your teeth in me please

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details @ ermanno scervino spring 2018