TheStarkerIsObvious

to... whatever this is.  Don’t know where I scored all these new followers...

but since you’re here...

This is my Ao3 account.

I don’t make masterlists - there’s too many fics to list anyway.  I TRY to repost all my own fic here.

This is my Peter-Only pic blog here.

My Pic-Only (NSFW) blog is here.

I have a When In Doubt X Out blog - it’s where I post the Starker I come across that I MIGHT read... if I work up the nerve.  

THIS TUMBLR IS NSFW at least as much as it can be in the tumblr-lite days (in the OOOOld days we had REAL NSFW posts...)

THIS TUMBLR SHIPS:

And occasionally:

This tumblr does not ship Stony in memory of @von--gelmini​, who loathed the pairing.  Although I’m SURE they hatefucked, more than once, and probably right up until Cap left.  

BUT ALL OF THESE ARE JUST TONY BEING TONY and enjoying sexytimes with his friends/enemies.  None of them were the OTP.  The OTP is obvious.

in my swing, in the dark. Surrounded by fireflies.

In The Darkness

Peter isn't that sky inexperienced kid anymore - since starting college at Columbia he's become much more sure of himself. That Spidey Swagger has become his real swagger, and it's no longer an act. He was actually pretty popular at Columbia actually, and that gave him the self-confidence to proposition infamous flirt Tony Stark.

Tony shut him down. Hard. Peter had given up hope of it ever happening...

...but now, in the darkness, in the hotel room Tony secured for just the two of them, it seems to be happening...

Sokovia had been a bust, and the Avengers were all in a rotten mood.  It didn’t help that what little action that had happened had resulted in a power outage over most of Novi Grad.  The orders from Cap was to call it a day, find a way to bed down for the night, then reconvene in the morning to see what could be salvaged from the situation. 

The army camp had concentrated some tents around a generator where Bruce had chosen to bunk, whereas Nat and Clint, Cap and Bucky had all chosen to rough it somewhere close.

At least, that was the way Tony explained it to Peter when they arrived in their dark hotel room.  They would be the only Avengers there.

The room Tony showed Peter was probably beautiful by daylight.  Now it was cool enough to be comfortable, with the small oddly-shaped windows propped open.  They had been provided with old-fashioned gas lamps, and Tony had one burning merrily on the cabinmate now.  Somehow it fit in the quaint hotel room.  Peter wasn’t looking forward to the cold shower before bed, but it was better than nothing.

“Not exactly Kurhotel Ströszek, not exactly Berlin…” Tony was saying quietly, as if everyone in the hotel were asleep.  As if the quiet room wasn’t at the end of a long empty hallway.

“It’s fine,” Peter said, just as quietly.  He didn’t try to make conversation past that.  Tony had all but given him the silent treatment for a few days now, and trying to start up a conversation, only to be ignored, hurt too much.  He dropped his bag to the floor and kicked off his shoes.

Tony didn’t move from the bureau.  He was still standing next to the gas lamp.

Peter realized he was blocking the way to the door in the cramped room, so he put his back to the wall.  He was in the process of peeling off his socks when he realized Tony still wasn’t moving.

“Wait… is this my room, or yours?”

“This one’s mine,” Tony said, just as quietly.  “They put my cases over there.”  He pointed to a dark corner on the other side of the bed. 

“Oh,” Peter said, reaching for his shoes.  A year ago he would have been embarrassed, would have started apologizing.  Would have worried about his mistake later.  But he was older now.  Wearier now.  Burned from Tony’s enduring cold shoulder, worn out from the rejection.  He didn’t know why Tony had been so dismissive of Peter since rejecting Peter’s proposal.  Peter had explained that it was No-Strings-Attached… either way.  No strings attached if Tony said yes, and no strings attached if Tony said no.  Instead the older man had said “No” and then shut down completely.  So much so that Peter was surprised they had even walked into the hotel together, gone down the dark hallway together.  He was surprised Tony was even talking to him now.  This was the longest conversation they’d had since Peter propositioned him. 

“Where are you going?” Tony asked him.  He was holding shoes and socks in one hand, picking up his bag with the other.

“To my… don’t I have a room?” he asked, looking back at the tall, narrow door that Tony had closed, the kind that you latched with an old-fashioned key.  His room was probably down the hall.  “Where do I go?”

“You’re staying here.”

Peter looked around the small room in confusion.  Looked at the stiff looking bed, high off the ground.  The carved wooden headboard, the ancient coverlet.  His eyes going wide in surprise.

“You win.”

Peter hands went limp, dropping everything, as Tony walked up to him slowly.  Solemnly.  Peter’s battered brain was so tired he had to wonder if he was hallucinating.  Even as Tony put his hands on Peter’s waist, even as Peter’s hands went up to his shoulders.

“Really?” was all he could say.

You Would Look Good In A Cowboy Hat

“…so technically… if Cowboy Dude had invited me back to his apartment… we were at the top of his building after all… then technically I could have gone…”

Calmly, casually, Tony sat the whiskey glass down on the coffee table.

“… I mean, he was pretty damn insistent that if he had any bruises it would be a big deal, so by your rules I could have gone with him to his place and checked him over once or twice…”

His voice caught… but just for a second.  Because Tony, eyes firmly fixed on the window, was now peeling off his shirt…

“Of course, according to your rules… I could do that with any man in New York City that I happen to rescue that happens to be really hot…”

Tony threw his shirt to the side.  And now he was losing his sweatpants.  His eyes had never left the window.  His face was hard.

Less than half an hour ago, that look - that hard, stony look – made Peter feel helpless and panicky.  Now it was just making him angry.