#also i was moaning that they never give me enough pre injection wipes to my nurse and they sent me 3 boxes full LMAOSHDB sorry

[44prop]

why did the hospital send me a sharps bin without the lid . i think that actually defeats the point

[mskinkykitty]

Proper Training

Chapter 2

This is a continuation of my entry for @searchforanotherway​‘s Onyx Night Challenge. 

I hope you enjoy chapter 2, still not suuuuuper dark, but, it kinda is....... So, please heed the warnings. Also, please forgive any spelling or grammatical errors. I’ve proofed this so many damn times, I’m done and ready to post!

Pairing: Reader x Rumlow, Reader x Winter Soldier (technically, not bucky......)

Rating: 18+

Takes place pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier

Word count: 3917

Warnings: Non-con, kidnapping, light bondage, forced orgasm, orgasm denial,  swearing, smut, adult themes, VERY light BDSM themes (please let me know if there are other warnings I should add!)

Brock's eyes shifted between (y/n) and the Soldier, who was now standing behind her, shoulders square, eyes hard and lifeless. With him standing behind her, the Soldier towered over her,with the top of her head coming to just under his chin.

Brock wasn't intimidated by the Soldier in the least, he's beaten the man a few times himself. No, what worried him, was what she planned on letting the Soldier do to him. With being strapped to the chair, Brock couldn't defend  himself, or fight back.  Now, the ache in his groin was coming back, he knew what to expect. Any touch was intensified, pleasurable, even. It had shocked Brock, when she'd slapped his cock, and he'd come all over himself. It had been the most intense orgasm he'd ever had, and she was right, he did enjoy pain, just usually not being on the receiving end of it. He hated, how the thought of her slapping him like that, made the ache worse, he wanted her to touch him again. Gentle at first, just like before. He wanted her to edge him, deny him his orgasm, then, he wanted her to make him cum, just as hard as before. He wanted to cum so hard, he'd pass out.

His thoughts alone, were driving him insane. He could think of nothing, but the things he wanted her to do to him.

“Look, my Soldier, Mr. Rumlow is getting excited again.” she said with a delighted chuckle, when she noticed his cock was starting to get hard again.

“But you haven't done anything to him.” the Soldier replied, still glaring at Brock, suspecting it was just her being near him, that was making the man so excited.

“But I did. You remember the new serum I've been working on?” she asked, not waiting for him to respond.

“Well, I've finally perfected it, and Mr. Rumlow, here, is the first human test subject. See, this one is different than the others I've made. The others were more like an aphrodisiac, once the sexual release has been accomplished, the effects are gone. But this one. Oh, this serum is truly a work of art!” she squealed, happy to explain everything to her Soldier. “Even after the release, the effects don't diminish, they continue for hours, potentially days, depending on the size of the dose and how fast the subject metabolizes the serum.���

“You bitch. I'll gut you, when I get out of this chair.” Brock panted, but he knew it was a hallow threat, with the Soldier protecting her, there was no way he'd ever get close enough to hurt her.

(y/n) placed her hand on the Soldier's arm to stop him, when he went to take a step towards Brock.

“It's alright, my Soldier. They're just empty threats, remember how the others were, at the beginning of their training. He'll change his tune soon enough.” She smiled, turning and walking towards her desk. Brock's eyes, never leaving her and the Soldier's eyes, never leaving Brock.

The burning in his veins was getting worse by the minute, he felt like he was sweating bullets, his dick was so hard, it hurt. His body needed a release, and he needed it soon.

“Mr. Rumlow, as I'm not generally a cruel person, I'm going to administer an IV to keep you hydrated. So, I suggest you keep still while I insert the needle. If you don't, I'm afraid I'll have to ask my Soldier to render you unconscious, the good old fashioned way. And something tells me, he's more than eager to comply.” (y/n) said, matter of factly, as she walked back towards Brock, holding a needle and an IV bag in her hands.

“I don't want you sticking any more of your experimental shit, inside me. You keep that damn thing away from me.” He growled, weakly, struggling against the restraints. The pain, only causing him more pleasure, worsening his condition. So much so, that he thought he'd cum with the slightest of touches, anywhere on his body.

“Mr. Rumlow, calm down. You're sweating profusely, which is only going to dehydrate you. I promise you, this is just a simple saline solution, nothing else has been added to it. You being dehydrated doesn't do my experiment any good. As much of a pain in the ass, as you are, I still need you fit and healthy for this test.”

Brock watched her set the needle and bag down on a tray next to his chair, the damn Soldier, hovering closely behind her. He watched her open an alcohol wipe, to clean the injection site. He was a little startled when she leaned in close and whispered in his ear.

“Besides, remember what I said about good soldiers, Mr. Rumlow. Behave, and I'll make you feel more pleasure than you ever thought possible.” she finished by placing a gentle kiss, right under his ear. Brock couldn't stop himself from moaning at how good it felt. He hoped she'd continue, the heat from her body, so close to his, felt exquisite, even though he felt like he was burning from the inside. Her heat, coupled with his, seemed to cool the fire inside, ever so briefly.

“Do you want to cum, Mr.Rumlow?” she continued to whisper, Brock felt her hands caress his arm. He felt something cool against the crook of his elbow, but it didn't matter what it was. The only thing that mattered to him, was that she wasn't close enough.

“Please.” his whisper, strained with desperation, as he leaned his head to the side, trying to bury his nose in her hair. Taking a deep breath, he couldn't help the moan that escaped, she smelled better than earlier.

“I need you.” he continued, placing a kiss to the side of her head.

“I know you do. But you haven't been a very good boy for me, so far. Have you?” she asked, looking him in the eye, a look of pure pity, staring back at him.

He shook his head, no.

“No, you haven't, which is why you have to wait, just a little bit longer. But, be a good boy for me, let me insert this IV, and I might let you cum when I'm done. I just need you to trust me. Can you do that for me, Mr. Rumlow?” she crooned, caressing his face, her lips just hovering above his.

“Anything.” he whispered, tilting his head back, his eyes rolling back, at her gentle caress of his cock. “Please!”

“Oh my, Mr. Rumlow. What a needy, little slut, you are. What do you think, my Soldier?” she asked, looking at the Soldier over her shoulder, who perked up, at her attention being on him. “Should I be lenient with him, just this once?”

“No, ma'am. You were never lenient with any of the others. If you're lenient with him this one time, he might come to expect it in the future.” The Soldier replied, and Brock could have slit his throat for it. The agony he was in, was becoming unbearable.

“Are you being honest, or are you just jealous? Be truthful, my Soldier.” She couldn't help the playful smile she gave the Soldier, who fidgeted nervously, as a blush filled his cheeks.

“Both, ma'am.” he said, clearing his throat, only slightly ashamed for admitting his jealousy.

“See how good my Soldier is, Mr. Rumlow. Obeys the first time, every time. Now,” she said, her tone sounding happy and carefree, her hand still lightly caressing his cock, “how about you be a good boy, and let me put this IV in you?”

“Fuck. You.” he panted.

As much as he hated the agony he was in, he hated the thought of caving and giving her what she wanted. He wasn't going to be weak, he was going to fight her, as long as he could.

“Oh, Mr. Rumlow.” she sighed, the look on her face, disappointed. “Very well. Soldier, come hold him, make sure he doesn't squirm too much. And no need to be gentle.”

“Yes, ma'am.” The dark look on the Soldier's face had Brock second guessing his little act of defiance.

The Soldier was all to happy to comply for this task. He may not have remembered everything Brock had done to him, but he had this deep seated hate for the man. Especially, now that his Doctor had set her sights on him and was using him to test her new serum. The Soldier knew he had to do whatever it took, to ensure his spot as her favorite. The longer Brock defied her, the more interest she would show and he couldn't risk losing her favor. Risk someone else becoming his handler. He didn't want to go back to the cryo tubes, or the mind wipes, or the abuse he'd suffer after a failed mission.

He liked that she gave him his own room, especially since it was connected to hers. He enjoyed being her toy, she made him feel things he's never felt before. She was gentle with him, her punishments were much easier to handle physically, but more devastating on the emotional level. But when he was successful, her rewards. Oh, her rewards made everything worth it. If the Soldier had to give a word to his feelings for her, he would call it love, even though he had no idea, what love really was.

To him, it was how fiercely protective he was of her. The way she would allow him to hold her, as he fell asleep. Perhaps it was the way she would hold him, if he'd had a particularly nasty nightmare. She always made him feel special. He was, after all, the only one who was allowed to spend the entire night with her. None of the others were allowed to stay in her room overnight. In fact, none of the others were even allowed in her room. Only him.

She would ensure he always had proper meals, made sure he liked everything he ate. Most importantly, he was always allowed to eat his fill, if he wanted more, he could have more. He enjoyed that they would always dine together in his room. Alone. She would tell him her plans and how successfully everything was going. How no one suspected she was the real Head of Hydra. He took pride in that. In how smart his Doctor was. How cunning.

She was his everything.

But, with Brock Rumlow, the Soldier worried he'd be replaced. He was younger than her other conquests, more fit. More pleasing to the eye, she had told him. Brock had been a thorn in her side, since he'd first laid eyes on her. The Soldier saw how he talked to her, how he treated her. He hated it, but, she'd ordered him not to react. To not do anything and let him. The first time Brock had smacked her ass, he'd almost lost it. No one touched his Doctor without her permission. The sharp look she'd given him, when she'd heard his growl, stopped him. He knew what she meant. Be a good Soldier and do nothing.

She'd let him take her quite aggressively that night, back in his room. He'd been allowed to own her, be possessive. She'd even let him call her by name. Not Doctor. Not ma'am. Her real name. (Y/n).

It was the first time she'd called him by his name. Or, at least, the name she said he used to go by.

James.

He didn't remember the name, nor the man she said it used to belong to. But when she screamed it, while he was buried to the hilt, cumming inside her, it made him feel things he couldn't describe.

He'd once asked her, why she only called him by name when they were alone. She'd said, it was because his name was special. It was an identity. Something that had to be earned. That's why she referred to everyone by their surname. They had to earn the right to hear her call them by their given name.

He hoped she would always refer to Brock, as Mr. Rumlow. Even though she'd said he would always be her favorite, he couldn't help the doubt he felt, as he watched her attach the IV to the crook of Brock's elbow.

“Mr. Rumlow, if you don't hold sill, my Soldier will knock you out.” She growled, as she tried to hold his arm still enough to attach the IV needle.

“Please, by all means, keep struggling. Nothing would make me happier.” The Soldier growled into Brock's ear, his eyes watching his Doctor, as she struggled with Brock's arm.

Knowing how hard the Winter Soldier could hit, Brock stopped struggling and let her insert the IV. He was also starting to feel really thirsty and could feel a headache starting.

Brock and the Soldier watched her insert the IV, then adjust the drip flow, a smile on her face when she turned to look back at them.

“There, see Mr. Rumlow, that wasn't so difficult, now was it?”

Brock shook his head, panting, as he fought the urge to beg her to touch him. He felt that if she didn't make him cum soon, he was going to start crying, the pain was quickly becoming too much.

“Now, since you've been such a naughty boy, Mr. Rumlow, and my Soldier has been a very good boy, I think it's only fair, that you sit there and watch him get his reward. Maybe then, you'll have a little more incentive to behave.” she said, giving him a stern look, before looking at her Soldier and smiling.

“Come here, my Soldier.”

“Yes, Docotor.” He said, doing his best not to rush over to eagerly. If she saw how eager he was, she would punish him, and right now, that was the last thing he wanted.

“As part of Mr. Rumlow's punishment, what would my Soldier like for his reward?” She hummed, both hands on his chest, as she pressed her body against his.

The Soldier felt his cock twitch in his pants. This was his favorite kind of reward, the kind where she let him choose. It was also the rarest. She really did want to punish Brock. The Soldier took a moment to think about what he wanted, then turned to her with a shy smile, almost afraid to say it, out loud.

She saw his hesitation, and encouraged him to answer.

“Go on, my Solider. Whatever it is, ask.”

“I would like to taste you.” he said, in a quiet, timid tone. He perked up, when the smile on her face grew, and her eyes lit up. Getting to taste her was his favorite reward, and she knew it, which was why it was such a rare treat.

“Are you sure, that's what you want?” she asked, knowing that's exactly what he wanted.

“Yes, ma'am.” he said, with a quick nod.

“Then get on your knees, Soldier, and enjoy your treat.” she smirked, as he dropped to his knees, and hesitantly, reached for her legs. Softly and slowly gliding his hands up her thighs, his thumbs catching the hem of her skirt, lifting it the higher he went. He let out a small groan, when he felt the garter belt, holding up her stockings. He knew that she always wore them under her skirts, he would often see them peaking out, when she sat in a chair with her legs crossed.

The Soldier's breath hitched, when he reached her hips, and felt no panties. He looked up at her, his unspoken question, reflected in his eyes.

“I never wear panties under my skirts.” she purred, as she caressed his chin. They both ignored Brock's groan, at that little juicy tidbit of information.

If Brock had known that months ago, he would have dragged her into a supply closet, and fucked her brains out, every chance he got. Instead, he was forced to sit there and watch the Soldier devour the woman he wanted.

“Let me out, you stupid bitch.” Rumlow panted, as he weakly struggled against his restraints.

“Now, now, Mr. Rumlow,” (y/n) moaned, a hand in the Soldier's hair, while the other held up her skirt, as the Soldier explored between her legs with his mouth, his hands resting on the the backs of her thighs. “You should consider yourself lucky. You're the only one I've allowed to see my Soldier receive his reward. In fact, I should let you watch from a little closer.” she said, then pulled the Soldier away, by his hair.

The look on his face, was almost heartbreaking. He looked up at her, as if she'd slapped him.

“Come, my Soldier, I think we need to let Mr. Rumlow get a closer look, at just how much you enjoy your reward.” she said, caressing his cheek, before walking over to Brock, with a wicked gleam in her eye. The Soldier, standing and following her, glaring at Brock as he did.

“What are you doing?” Brock asked, his voice strained, from the agony he was in.

“Making myself comfortable, so I can enjoy my Soldier, and you can get a front row seat, to the show.” she smirked, turning around, and situating herself on Brock's lap. She leaned her back against his chest, her legs draped on either side of his, so she was spread wide open for her Soldier. She made sure her ass was pressed against his hips, feeling his painful erection against her lower back.

“Show Mr. Rumlow, just how good you can be, my Soldier.” she purred, lifting her skirt and exposing herself to him, as he dropped to his knees again, his hands running up the inside of her thighs.

(y/n) made sure she pressed her ass against Brock's cock, eliciting the most erogenous groan from him. She then, leaned back, resting her head on his shoulder, one hand gripping the arm of the chair, while the other made it's way behind his head, and she gripped his hair, tight. All the while, the Soldier was kissing up her inner thighs, on his way to what he desired most. She hummed, when his tongue found it's way back between her pink folds, the hand that was resting on the chair, now gripping the Soldier's hair.

Brock hated how turned on he was, watching the Soldier pleasure her with his mouth, and found himself wishing he was between her thighs. His hips began to move against her back, the friction feeling bringing some much needed relief to his aching cock. With her sitting in his lap, pressed   against his chest, he couldn't stop himself from running his nose up her neck and into hair, inhaling her scent.

“You know, Doc, if you release me, I'd be more than happy to take his place. Show you what else my mouth is good for.” he purred into her ear, his hips continuing to thrust into her lower back.

“Please, Mr. Rumlow, don't delude yourself. No one, is better at this, than my Soldier. He's been at it for so long, no one knows my body like he does.” she gasped, as the Soldier penetrated her with two of his metal fingers, grazing the front of her walls, quickly finding that one spot that would bring her to her knees, every time.

“Fuck! That feels amazing!” she moaned. “Don't stop, my Soldier, I'm almost there!”

Brock could do nothing, but watch in awe, as the Soldier brought her to climax, faster than he's ever seen a woman cum before. It had only been a few minutes, and he had her breathing hard, grinding her hips against his face, her grip on his hair tightening so much, he thought she was going to pull it out.

When she came, Brock had never seen anything like it. She screamed as she started shaking and convulsing, drenching the Soldier in her fluids. Brock couldn't stop himself from coming with her. The way her body writhed against him, it was too much, and he released himself all over the back of her shirt.

As Brock's breathing started to slow back to normal, he realized that she was still undulating and screaming. The Soldier hadn't stopped, giving her multiple orgasms. Brock hated to admit, that he was quite impressed with the Soldier's oral skills, and found himself wondering if he had the skills before he became the soldier, or after.

“Fuck!” she gasped, finally managing to pull the Soldier from between her legs.

“As much as I love it when you do that, you gotta remember to give a girl a little time to recover.” she said, panting, as she tried to catch her breath.

Brock felt her relax into his body, as she closed her eyes, and enjoyed the after glow of such an intense orgasm. Brock turned his attention to the Soldier, still kneeling between her legs. Her orgasmic juices were dripping from his chin, and she had soaked the upper portion of his shirt. The Soldier wiped his chin, then pressed a kiss to the inside of her leg, before resting his head on her leg, closing his eyes as well.

“Hmm, Mr Rumlow, I do believe you have made a mess of my clothes. You're lucky I'm too blissed out to give a shit, right now. I think you should thank my Soldier for saving you from further punishment.”

Brock scoffed, and ignored what she said, his head falling back against the chair, as he looked at the ceiling.

“That wasn't a request, Mr. Rumlow.” her tone firm and commanding.

Brock looked down to see the Soldier, with his head still resting against her thigh, glaring up at him.

“Thanks.” he grumbled

“Like you mean it, Mr. Rumlow.”

“Thank you, for saving me from a punishment.”

“Do you find his apology acceptable, Soldier?” (y/n) hummed, almost drifting off to sleep.

The Soldier looked at his Doctor, then at Rumlow. Weighing his answer options. If he said no, she'd only give Brock more attention, but if he said yes, she might continue to ignore him. Of course, there was the possibility that no matter what his answer, she'd give Brock more attention either way. He decided the risk was worth it.

“Yes.”

“Good, because I need a nap.” she sighed, holding her hands out to her Soldier.

It was a silent order for him to pick her up and carry her to her room. Which, he was more than happy to do.

“You can't just leave me here!” Brock hissed, the ache in his groin, slowly coming back, though he noticed, not as intensely as before.

“Doctor?” Bucky asked, as he walked with her, towards the door.

“Send a couple of the girls in to take care of him, then I want him locked in a cell. His training is far from finished.” She said, yawning towards the end.

“Of course, my doctor.” The Soldier whispered, softly into her ear, as he carried her to her room. Knowing she was far from finished with him.

[im-a-goner-foryou]

70's pimp! Tony/ prostitute! Peter au for the lovely @seldom-seen-kid, hope you like it! ♡

"Fuck- yeah, just like that darling," thin, delicate fingers wind themselves into Peter's hair, pulling at his curls just sharply enough for him to feel the prickling pain and to draw a high whine from his throat. He pumps his fist hurriedly around the rock hard cock in his hand, making sure to twist his wrist on every upward stroke just how he knows the other man likes it; and sure enough this earns him a gravelly moan of "look so good down on your knees for me, god..."

Noting how Stephen's hips now stutter off the bed in erratic thrusts forward, Peter then leans closer to lay his head on the man's lap, fluttering his lashes a tad excessively and widening his eyes to play up the innocent look that never fails to completely unravel most of his clients, all the while never ceasing in his steady jerking movements of his hand. Stephen's startlingly light blue eyes pin hungrily on him as though to devour him whole; mewling softly, Peter begins to roll his own hips downwards to hump the floor like a puppy in heat, grinning inwardly at the low growl this earns him.

In a final act he allows his mouth to fall open ever so slightly and sticks his tongue out to whimper a needy little "ohhh, please Doctor," and just like that the fingers in his hair are tightening hard enough for tears to well up in his eyes; chest rumbling with a low snarl Stephen ruts his hips upward to rub his leaking cockhead all over Peter's cheek, smearing pre-come across his flushed skin until the kneeling boy widens his mouth further to allow the throbbing girth in. Bobbing his head jerkily and drooling all over Stephen's cock Peter then gurgles out wetly "give me your come Sir, please? I need it so bad, please Doctor I wanna feel your come fill me up--"

"Fuck, fuck!" Stephen grunts, hips snapping forward one final time before the cock inside Peter's mouth twitches, then spills hot and sticky fluid down his throat that he expertly swallows with a happy hum.

"Thank you, Doctor," Peter sighs syrup sweet, making a show of licking his glistening lips, running his tongue messily up the length of Stephen's softening cock like a child would lick at a lollipop. "You taste so good."

Cursing weakly at that, Stephen shakes his head and pants "Christ, you're going to be the death of me," before beckoning Peter up with a crook of his finger. Smiling shyly now, Peter rises obediently to his feet and allows the older man to kiss him, laving his tongue over the other's lips in kitten licks.

Stephen groans, deep and guttural in his chest.

"You're a treasure... wish I could bring you home with me," he sighs-- not for the first time, finally pulling away as though forcing himself to do so; he frowns as his his gaze falls to the shiny Rolex adorning his wrist, however. "Shit, it's already five minutes past, I need to go before Stark comes bursting through the door or something. Here--" pulling his leather wallet out of his slacks, the man deftly plucks a few hundred dollar notes and stuffs it into Peter's hand, along with an almost fond kiss to his brow. "Thank you for tonight darling, you were perfect as always."

Peter can't help but blush at that, pocketing the bills inside the pink satin panties Stephen had ordered him to wear for their session. "You flatter me too much, Doctor," he giggles bashfully, leaning forward to press his lips to the man's cheek.

"Anything for you, Pete. Go on now; I can show myself out, I know how Stark can get sometimes about tardiness." Stephen huffs, waving a hand at the door to gesture him out-- but not before swatting his ass one last time before he leaves, of course.

Still blushing slightly from Stephen's silky smooth words earlier, Peter bounds down the stairs to his quarters in the basement, passing a few others along the way; he waves at Harley in greeting, the other boy nestled up on the common couch beside and chatting up a much older man. Upon arriving at the door to his room, however, Peter quickly recognizes the burning scent of cigarette smoke hanging thick in the air-- which can only mean one thing... or person. Groaning inwardly, he steels himself in preparation of what will surely come next, before twisting the doorknob open and barging inside his room.

Not surprisingly, a low drawl of "you're late," is the very first thing that greets him. How typical. Wrinkling his nose at the now more intense smell of smoke inside, Peter's unable to keep the annoyed scowl off his face as he kicks off his red stiletto heels before striding over to the mirror hanging on the wall at the other side of the room-- determinedly fixing his gaze forward and away from the unmistakable figure sprawled lazily on his couch.

Of course, Stark wouldn't have any of that. "Hey, you deaf or something Parker?"

"Go away," Peter grumbles to his stubborn reflection in the mirror; he looks positively wrecked. Grabbing some makeup wipes he then goes about cleaning away the cherry-red stains smeared all over his lips and lower chin that is his lipstick-- Stephen had been specially rough tonight, seemed to enjoy messing him up more than usual. Peter couldn't exactly complain; the man had paid extra for it, after all. "Y'know, you're not even supposed to be in my room, Mr Stark."

Unfortunately, that only earns him an amused scoff in response. "That's funny-- I would have thought that I'd be allowed to do whatever I damn well wanted here, seeing as I'm the one running this place. Now I'm going to ask you again, why are you late?"

Feeling a rush of both annoyance and frustration swell up in him now and win out his insistence at not giving Stark any satisfaction, Peter can't resist whirling around to glare at the older man. "Oh I don't know, maybe it's 'cause Strange was too busy fucking me stupid for both of us to notice the time?" he says sarcastically-- though not without injecting a faux sweetness to his tone, because as much of an absolute dick Mr Stark can be, he's also his boss, and Peter can't exactly afford to lose this job.

It's not even a few moments after before he's already regretting his outburst; even in the dimness of his room Peter doesn't miss the way the older man's eyes darken at his retort, the twitching of a muscle at that sharp jaw. Faltering slightly, Peter pales but still stubbornly refuses to let his glare waver; at least, until after several heavy, tense beats later does he realise that he's standing barefoot and still scantily dressed in slips of lingerie that barely pass off as clothing.

And it seems as though this particular fact also doesn't escape Mr Stark, if the new glinting look in his hooded eyes is of any indication. If Peter were anyone else he would probably be overtaken with shame; as it is, he can't exactly be in this line of business and get uncomfortable whenever someone stares at his bare body. Yet something about the older man's fixated gaze makes him squirm a little, and he can't help but feel slightly self-conscious-- folding his arms across his chest to preserve whatever little modesty left he asks defensively, "what?"

That shadowed gaze flits over his face, drags down his body in a way that makes the tips of Peter's ears burn red and his cheeks heat up. By the time Tony's piercingly sharp eyes land on his again he's already a flustered mess, as he almost always is when around his boss. Taking a long drag of his cigarette, Stark leans back further against the cushions and quirks an eyebrow at him, smoke billowing from his nose on the next exhale of breath. "You look like a mess."

Peter feels himself go pink, and he turns back to the dresser with a roll of his eyes. "Yeah, thanks."

"You know what I mean," Stark says from behind him. Peter does; he knows that the man's referring to the smattering of hickeys on his neck, red teeth marks and bruises already blooming purple-black even as he stares at them-- gingerly running his fingertips across his collarbone he remembers how sharp Stephen's canines were sinking into his skin, and a pleasant shiver runs up his spine. "It's not the first time Strange went too far," Stark spits coldly. "He's always marking you up, and your other clients don't like it."

"So? Stephen's a regular," Peter reminds, leaner closer to the mirror to wipe the thick layer of mascara off his lashes. "He always pays well, and he stays within the limits too. Besides--" Pointedly avoiding Tony's eyes in the reflection now he mutters softly, "it's not like I mind it when he gets rough."

"Yes, well I do." Peter jumps at the sudden snapping of words behind him, turning around to find Stark barely a few inches away, fists clenching by his side. The older man's eyes looked more intense up close, if that were even possible; Peter can't help but feel pinned like a butterfly to the wall under that look and against his own will the coil in his lower belly tightens, blood thrumming through his veins suddenly loud in his ears.

He opens his mouth, hoping to say something to diffuse the electrifying tension that now filled the small space between them, but all that escapes him is a breathy gasp. Stepping closer, Tony reaches up to pluck the burning cigarette dangling from his lips and flick it away, then hums so low the younger boy barely catches, "I care for you, Parker. And I don't like it when I see you hurt."

"W-why?" Peter splutters weakly. "You- you're just my pimp."

Tony doesn't reply, instead dragging a calloused thumb slowly across his flushed cheek to cradle his jaw; Peter stands frozen to the spot, breath falling in short whines, swaying on his feet as the man's large hand crawls into his tousled hair to tug gently at its roots-- a surprised whimper tears its way past his throat, and against his will Peter's eyes flutter shut at the sensation. He feels Stark's head dip down until their noses brush, and the coarse stubble of the man's beard scrapes his cheek raw in a way that leaves his head spinning; almost as if on cue his cock twitches from where its confined in his panties, and Peter's striken with both overwhelming urge to rut his hips forward and hump his boss's leg, or to run away with mortification.

Before he can decide however, chapped lips are brushing against his ear lobe and drawing a full-bodied shiver from him, Stark's words a gruff baritone that is enough to make Peter's legs wobble dangerously. "You look really pretty tonight, Peter; you always do. Just don't break it."

Then with one final caress of his cheek the man turns away; Peter shivers at the sudden cold of his side, and by the time his eyes flutter open again Mr Stark has gone-- leaving him alone and leaning against his dresser, clutching at its counter for support and breathless with want that he can no longer deny.