Warning: Starker

Everyone Loves Luffy~!

Happy Valentine’s Day~White Day Project 2020

Featuring the following ships:

Zoro x Luffy

Sanji x Luffy

Law x Luffy

Kid x Luffy

Coby x Luffy

Smoker x Luffy

Bartolomeo x Luffy

Cavendish x Luffy

Crocodile x Luffy

Katakuri x Luffy

Hancock (genderbend) x Luffy

Marco x Luffy

Sabo x Luffy

Ace x Luffy

Rayleigh x Luffy

Shanks x Luffy.

~~

MINO x JINWOO

What do you do when a network bans your song for ‘possible homosexual theme’?

“Tony? If you have a moment, allow me to introduce you to one of my star pupils. This is Mr. Peter Parker.”

Tony, in fact, doesn’t mind speaking with this Peter Parker. For all that the press loves pointing out his many egotistical qualities, he enjoys meeting up-and-coming scientists who are yet to change the world. And, if he’s coming approved by Professor Kaito Nakamura of the engineering department, this Peter Parker is most definitely going to change the world.

Tony just wasn’t expecting the kid to be so fucking pretty.

This Peter Parker is a vision. Brown hair in the good boys’ regular, soft skin that would look delectable if flushed with pleasure, and big, big eyes that Tony wants to see peering up at him through those long, fluttery lashes. His lips are rather thin, but still plush and red, begging to be used … and geez, Tony has to forcefully redirect his thoughts away from that tempting path.    

“Mr. Parker,” Tony says – and it’s only due to a lifetime of PR training that he doesn’t visibly falter or stutter over the shock of the young, fetching face on the young, fetching boy he’s facing. He plasters on his media smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

He’s in college, Tony recalls, thinking back to any memory of extraordinarily young students entering MIT in recent years. Peter Parker doesn’t ring a bell. Chances are, he’s a legal adult.

He hopes so.

Peter smiles, and the nervous way his lips stretch over his teeth – bared unnaturally like he’s in a failed audition for a Crest commercial –  is inordinately charming. So’s the way his cheeks flush slightly, and the way his eyes are a little intimidated. He’s an innocent, Tony can tell.

“M-Mr. Stark,” Peter stutters out. “Oh wow, it’s so nice to meet you. Uh, thank you for your speech today, it was incredible – I can’t believe – I’m just so honored …” He tapers off into silence and a look of panic crosses his face before he smiles, sheepishly. “Hi, I - I’m Peter.”

God, Tony thinks. This kid is just delightful.

“Hello, Peter, I’m Tony,” Tony quips, before shooting a wink that’s supposed to be calming.

Peter just flushes further – a delicious dark pink that, when paired with the way his eyes dilate, tells Tony everything he needs to know.

Bingo.

Imagine, Tony catching a glimpse of the bandage because Peter bumps into something in the lab, and he’s immediately concerned, because Peter usually heals quick enough not to need bandages and the like. He opens his mouth to ask but then maybe he gets a phone call or someone comes into the lab, or something equally distracting, and he loses his chance.

Then he forgets, and isn’t reminded about it until a similar moment has Peter’s shirt lifting up, and in place of the white he saw covering the skin last time, Tony catches a small, black, y. Before he has a chance to ask the first of the many questions that pop into his head, Peter’s shooting him a bright smile and a sweet, “bye, Mr. Stark,” twirling out of the lab and into the elevator.

It’s hours later when Tony processes that what he glimpsed was innocent Peter Parker’s first (?) tattoo. He spends an equivalent amount of time trying to figure out what it could be, racking his brain for why Peter could possibly have had a y etched onto his body. He reckons he must just be sleep deprived when he realizes how glaringly obvious the answer is - the tattoo must be for May. He finally goes to sleep, relentless curiosity satiated.

But then he’s heading into the kitchen the next day, originally having told Peter he didn’t want anything then changing his mind, when he hears Peter chattering away with somebody. It only takes a few seconds to place Barnes’s deep baritone, and he’s about to head in, trusting he’s not interrupting a deep conversation when he hears Bucky ask “can I see it?”

The idea hits him so fast he doesn’t understand why it didn’t occur to him before, genius that he is, and he’s suddenly struggling to hold back his lunch as he considers the fact the tattoo says Bucky instead of May, and he doesn’t know why the thought has him blinking back tears. (It’s a lie, he knows exactly why, because he spent most of yesterday convincing himself the boy hadn’t etched Tony onto his body in an act of devoted hero worship, and he had spent even longer convincing himself that was a good thing, that he didn’t want a permanent reminder of him on Peter’s otherwise pale, unblemished, perfect body.) Now the thought that Peter, his Peter, has another man’s name permanently inked onto his skin, makes Tony want to bury himself under liters of whatever alcohol will help himself forget the fastest.

It turns out to be whatever alien alcohol he’s pilfered from Thor’s bedroom, and he’s quickly nearing the bottom of his second (third?) bottle. He was smart enough to cut off Peter’s access to the floor, had FRIDAY relay the message that Peter’s ‘security clearance is, unfortunately, not high enough for him to be privy to what Sir will spend the rest of the night working on, but he is, as always, more than welcome to return tomorrow.’ He feels a brief pang of regret at the forlorn expression he catches on Peter’s face as he rides the elevator down, but he quickly drowns that with his third (fourth?) bottle.

Peter lets Tony wallow for exactly three days before he’s overriding FRIDAY’s commands, (with the AI’s help) and sneaking into the lab. His super strength makes it quite easy for him to wring the bottle (whichever number it may be) from Tony’s grip, wrestle him into the shower before depositing him in his bed, tucking him under the covers for some much needed rest.

When Tony wakes Peter convinces him to have a conversation like a grown adult, complete with an argument, slightly (very) raised voices, and a fair amount of emotional blackmail.

So, since I actually wrote something like this already for kinktober 2018, I’ve changed it up a bit to dom Peter based off a NSFW fanart @iammagicfishhook drew 💗

Notes: Dom!Peter, facesitting, facial, dirty talk, daddy kink

Also lightly proofread, so sorry for any mistakes 😬

💗💗💗

Peter was riled up.

Tony had been away for a few days on a business trip and the entire time, they’ve been sexting each other, sending provocative images. It was never anything outright, not a dick pic in sight, but teasing, tantalizing images that drove Peter wild.

Tony laying back against a plush armchair, legs spread confidently. Peter loved that picture because he could see how hard the older man was, the outline of his hard cock pressed against his thigh.

Another picture of Tony’s piercing brown eyes, Peter’s gaze riveted by the hints of silver in his trademark goatee. Tony’s soft, inviting mouth parted around his fingers, lips pulled into a smirk because he knew just how difficult the separate was for them. For Peter, especially, since he grew addicted to the older man, to his daddy who always have him what he wanted when he wanted it.

So, yes, Peter was more than a bit riled up after refusing to jerk off. Tony promised he would make it good if only Peter would wait.

Anything you want, kid.

Text sent shortly before Tony landed. Peter knew what he wanted for his reward.

The first time Peter laid eyes on him after returning, he stalked right up to Tony, grabbed the man by the tie and yanked him down into a harsh kiss. He could feel the older man’s surprise, but Tony rolled with it, always adaptable. Peter tended to melt in his arms and become pliant and just let Tony do anything he wanted to him.

Not this time.

AHHHH YOURE SO SWEET NONNIE!!!!!! THIS MADE MY DAY! This is perfect timing because i’ve been looping 7 Rings non stop for days and it just gives me such strong starker vibes especially for this ask… hope you like it!

Warnings: smut, torture, and murder. It’s a mafia au idk what else you’d expect

2.3K Words

All characters are 18+!

—–

Peter Parker was the perfect omega; his soft features, his smooth cream colored skin, his caramel curls, his innocent eyes, his oversized pink sweaters that showed off his sharp collarbones, his fluffy skirts that did nothing to hide the delicate lace panties underneath, his pink phone case, his pink makeup. And he didn’t just look like the perfect omega; he acted like it. Devoted to his alpha, he was always willing to do whatever was needed to please him. In Peter’s world, that meant grabbing his alpha’s knives and guns and money and alcohol and cigars, or whispering in his ear what he wanted the bad guy’s punishment to be. It meant looking at someone who had hurt his alpha and ordering them shot in the head. It meant letting himself be used as nothing more than a sex toy if his alpha had a bad day. It meant sitting in his alpha’s lap and kissing him gently, and it meant being on display for the whole world to see.

Of course, a perfect omega deserves a perfect alpha, and Tony Stark was just that. He was attractive (in a dark and brooding way), he was rich, he was devoted, and he was protective. He was prepared to rip the world apart if his boy was hurt, and he was prepared to give his boy the world if he asked. He gave his omega everything he needed, without second thought, and loved every minute. Even if that meant that sometimes Tony would spend thousands of dollars on makeup and jewels and clothes and lingerie, if Peter wanted it, he got it. If Peter wanted to be fucked, he was. If Peter wanted someone gone, Tony made sure it happened. If he wanted to go on a vacation, Tony made sure that nothing would get in the way of that. 

And the one thing that made Tony the most perfect alpha was that no one would ever come between him and his omega and live to speak of it.

Tony: *answers the door*

Peter: here’s your pepperoni pizza, sir.

Tony *flirting*: Oh well I ordered extra sausage…

What the Avengers see:

Mob boss Tony, lounge singer Peter. 

The town is his.

He owns it. He owns every part of it. The sidewalk, the road, the fire hydrants, the trade, the commerce, even the sign that reads Welcome to Summervale on the fourth exit off the highway.

The police are in his pocket and the mayor is under his thumb and there isn’t anywhere in this town that isn’t ruled under him, the pseudo-King who smells of cigars, gunpowder and affluence.

“Where too, boss?” Happy asks.

Tony rolls down the window and lets the cigar smoke slip from his mouth out into the dusky, fall air. Summer is here in Summervale. Everything is hot and oaky and there’s no one out and about, even in the relatively cool shadows under shop fronts. The parks are deserted and the sweltering heat sends little waves through his vision. Sweat buds just beneath his skin; prickling at the humidity. He feels soothed this way.

At peace.

It’s the perfect time for someone to get a bullet in their kneecap.

I hope I did it okay!!! And can I just say, what a super sweet and astoundingly lovely way to ask for an ask, you gorgeous thing x 

It’s just so different from every other time.

It’s like there’s a weight on his shoulders, a pressure itching under his fingernails. It’s different, it matters. It’s not a drunken fumble in the back of the club, or the cheerleader lifting her skirt under the bleachers. It isn’t a quickie in the bathroom between classes or a hunched over and steamy session in the back of a car.

Tony’s had a lot of sex. He’s a high school senior who’s popular, rich and handsome, of course he has. He’s had it with girls and guys and whoever caught his eye at a party. He remembers his first time- with some indeterminable blonde and he hadn’t lasted very long but she’d been too drunk to remember.

This is different.

He almost jumps to his feet when there’s a knock at the door. He wipes his palms on his jeans and opens it to see his boyfriend, Peter, standing there with a duffel bag under his arm and a nervous smile on his face.

The sight of him is at once calming and nerve-wracking. “Hey, baby,” Tony murmurs, because Peter’s obviously a lot more nervous than him, and he wants him to feel better.

“Hi, Tony,” Peter stammers back, a blush already staining his cheeks as he ducks his head. Tony has to tug him over the threshold into the house, pressing a kiss onto his forehead but avoiding his lips. He’s too hyped for that- he guesses Peter is too. “I brought um- my sleep things,” Peter continues, shifting from foot to foot in the corridor, “but I- I didn’t know if I was staying? Should I- should I text my Aunt to come and pick me up after…” he trails off, going even pinker and Tony just wants to wrap him up in a blanket and keep the whole world away. His boy is too precious.