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late-to-the-party-81 · 1 year ago

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Thanks for sharing 😍

I have no idea if your comfy with drags but I would like to request a Drag queen AU where Peter is a drag queen and captures the attention of mob boss tony

Hit me with your best shot

AN: Thanks for his my lovely nonnie. We all know that Peter can rock the drag look after Tom's stunning turn on Lip Synch Battle - that video still makes me feel all funny inside. And let's face it, canon Tony is only a few steps away from being a mob boss anyway.

I don't know why this song came into my head, but there we go.

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Divider by @firefly-graphics, mood board by me..

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Word Count: 2.4k

Pairing: Drag Queen! Peter x Mob! Tony

CW: Power imbalance, age gap (Peter mid 20's, Tony 40's), some swearing, inferred danger (cos you know, mob AU)

“...and I can’t believe the boss got bought out. He loved this place.”

“I know, it’s all so havey-cavey, like do we know anything about the new owner?”

“Only that he’s loaded and may have… you know… some ‘ties’...”

Peter listened to his co-workers gossip as he got ready for his shift. He already had his hairnet on, holding his unruly curls out of the way, before smoothing down his eye-brows with a glue stick and starting the long task of applying foundation. Practice had taught him that if he got this stage right, the rest of his make-up would fall into place, as it were. He was also blessed with lovely cheekbones, even if he said so himself, which meant that he could cut down on the amount of contouring.

After sorting out the base layer, he carefully painted his eyebrows back in, slicked on his eyeliner and attached his false eyelashes. A hint of blush, and a sinfully red lipstick completed the first part of his façade.

Moving over to his clothing rail, he shifted hangers along and he pondered his outfit for the night, before making his selection. He slid the purposely ripped, black stockings up his legs, smoothing out the fabric so it wasn’t baggy anywhere, and slid his feet into black, suede ankle boots. He stepped into the black leather, fringed skirt, that only just skimmed his ass, before grabbing the matching bustier.

He looked over his shoulder at one of the others.

“A little help, babe?”

Jade smiled, all black, slicked hair, and green & gold eye make-up, before they sashayed over and started to lace Peter up. Before it was tightened fully, Peter grabbed his breast forms and popped them in place, the fabric of the bustier helping to hold them steady.

“Looking good, little P, hope the new boss enjoys,” Jade purred, before going back to their own preparations, some kind of gold and paste-emerald encrusted leather armour thing going on.

Peter grabbed his 80’s style leather jacket, and slung it on, before picking up the last part of his persona; his wig. The same colour and texture of his own hair, just longer, and bigger. A riot of dark chocolate curls that came down past his shoulders and swayed perfectly when he strutted.

He put it on, and looked in the mirror. Penny Darker, drag-queen extraordinaire looked back.

Grabbing his vodka and soda, he knocked it back, like he did before every show. The warm-up act had finished and it was almost his turn.

Peter had been working at The Sword and Shield club for just over a year, starting as a bartender just to make some cash, before the queens had taken him under their collective wings. He’d known he was gay since his mid-teens, but something about this environment just allowed him to come to grips with himself like in no way before. It wasn’t long before he was helping the girls get ready, running errands, tightening corsets, fixing crooked wigs and then, before he knew it, they were fixing him up with their cast offs and getting him to do the warm-up act.

He’d loved it, feeling alive and in control, and even more to his surprise, the patrons, and the boss, had loved it as well. Okay, Mr Hammer made him feel a bit ‘icky’ whenever he’d looked at Peter, but apparently he wasn’t going to have that problem anymore.

At some point over the weekend the club, and apparently all of Justin’s assets, had been, wel, seized; appropriated, by someone unnamed, but who the rumour mill was equal parts in awe of and scared of. All the staff, from the top Queen, Starlight, down to the pot washer, Kevin, were wondering if the new owner was going to show tonight, to check on his ‘investment’.

“Hey! Miss P, you’re on in five!.”

Peter was dragged out of his thoughts by Clint, the stage hand.

“Any colour in your lights this evening?”

“No thanks, Clint, just plain lights, but maybe throw some flashes and things in, yeah? You know the song.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

He climbed back up into his booth, where he queued the music and sorted the lighting rig. Peter started to bounce up on the balls of his toes and shook out his arms before doing a few warm up stretches. He ran through the song in his head. He already knew it like the back of his hand, but the key to a good performance was flawless lip-syncing.

He was so involved with his prep, just off stage, that he didn’t notice the quiet commotion out front, a susurration that whipped around the main lounge as a dark haired man in an exquisite suit walked in, flanked by two men who could only be described as body-guards. The patrons at the centre front table were quickly moved, much to their disappointment, before the be-suited man took his seat, a tumbler of whiskey appearing as if by magic. His guards remained standing at the back, where they had a full view of the front-of-house.

“Ladies, Gentlemen, and everything in between, the Sword and Shield Club is proud to present, the Queen from Queens, Miss Penny Darker!”

Clint’s voice came out over the tannoy, as he dimmed the house lights and focussed the main spots on centre stage. Peter took a deep breath and swayed out onto the boards as the music started, his lips moving in perfect time.

You're a real tough cookie

With a long history

Of breaking little hearts like the one in me

That's okay, lets see how you do it

Put up your dukes, let's get down to it

The drums kicked in and he popped his hips back and forth in time before starting to dance with more vigour.

Hit me with your best shot

Why don't you hit me with your best shot

Hit me with your best shot

Fire away

Peter spotted the man at the front table, someone he didn’t recognise, but anyone who sat at the front of a drag show knew what they were getting into. He dropped to his knees on the edge of the stage and crooked finger at the man, who smiled coyly in return.

You come on with the come on

You don't fight fair

That's okay, see if I care!

Knock me down, it's all in vain

I get right back up on my feet again!

Peter jumped back onto his feet, glad he hadn’t gone with heels too tall, and pulled finger guns at the guy, winking at him, before turning his attention to the other nearby tables and giving them the finger guns too.

Hit me with your best shot

Why don't you hit me with your best shot

Hit me with your best shot

Fire away

He dropped down from the stage and swayed across the space to perch on the front table, taking the mystery man’s tie in his hands and toying with it.

You're a real tough cookie with a long history

Of breaking little hearts like the one in me

Before I put another notch in my lipstick case

You better make sure you put me in my place!

Peter reached out and ruffled the guy’s hair, before dancing away, around the near-by space, popping his hips and throwing his hands up in the air as the song went to its finale.

Hit me with your best shot...

C'mon!

Hit me with your best shot...

Hit me with your best shot

Fire away!

Hit me with your best shot

Why don't you hit me with your best shot

Hit me with your best shot

Fire away

As the song faded out, he danced off, heading backstage by the curtain that was out on the main floor, looking back over his shoulder and aiming another wink at the main table.

He walked back past Clint throwing him a grin, but was taken aback by the shocked look on the stage-hands face.

“What? I thought that went really well. The new face seemed to like it.”

“Um, kid, I think that might be our new boss. Came in with a couple of heavies whilst you were prepping.” Peter’s eyes went wide.

“What?” His voice came out like a squeak. “Fuck, I just embarrassed myself, didn’t I?”

“As you said, he seemed to like it. At least he got to find out first hand what our customer service is like. That’s gotta be good, yeah?”

Peter’s shoulders slumped - just what he needed. Bloody Parker luck!

“Thanks for your hard work Clint. I’ll see you in a bit at the bar once I’ve de-frocked.”

He headed back to the dressing room, trying, and failing, not to overthink. He barely registered the air kisses and shoulder pats from the others as they congratulated him on his performance, just glad he wasn’t scheduled to floor walk this evening. Scott, the manager, knew he had college on Tuesday mornings, and Monday wasn’t a busy night, so let Peter come in, do his one contracted performance and then head out. He made up for it by floor-walking on both Friday and Saturday nights, unless it was his one-scheduled weekend off every six weeks.

Peter sat down at his dressing table, and dragged the wig off his head, placing it on it’s stand. Reaching around behind him, he loosened the strings on his bustier, so he could breathe and move better, before peeling off his lashes and throwing them in the bin. With the most uncomfortable parts of his outfit dealt with, he took a moment to sit, sipping on the new vodka and soda that was waiting for him and letting the familiar sounds of the room wash over him.

The relative peace only lasted a minute before the sound of clomping footsteps rang out and all the queens turned round to look. The two large men who’d come in with the new boss strode into the dressing room, their size imposing as they took up most of the small space.

“Alright, ladies. Everyone, except Miss Darker, out,” barked the blond of the pair. Jade turned and gave Peter a sympathetic look and an affectionate squeeze, before walking out with the others, hips swaying and glaring at the two goons. Peter sighed, and picked up his holdall, starting to sweep all his make-up and jewellery into it, barely registering that the two bodyguards had left the room to stand just outside the door.

“Make sure we’re not disturbed.”

“Right you are, boss.”

The door closed and Peter swivelled on his stool to regard the man he’d been flirting with during his performance. Without the stage lights in his eyes, he could get a better look at him. Tall, although nowhere near the height of his bodyguards, the man walked into the room with the air of a man who knows his importance and wants to make sure others know it as well. His suit, a dark grey, was perfectly tailored to fit. His brown hair, a few shades darker than Peter’s own, was immaculately styled, and his beard, moustache and goatee were trimmed into the sharpest lines. It was his eyes, however, which drew all focus. Dark and intense, there was no way to look away from them, and the way the man kept his gaze on Peter made the young man just want to sink to his knees.

“And what do I call you when you aren’t in your persona?”

Peter gaped like a fish, running the palm of his right hand down his skirt, before realising how ineffectual that was when wearing leather, and grabbed his towel, drying his sweaty hand that way, before thrusting it out.

“Um, Parker. Peter Parker.”

The man’s lips quirked up at the corners, but he kept his own hands in his pockets.

“You’re a talented young man. Good looking too. You may have guessed by now that I’m your new boss…”

“Yes, and I’m terribly sorry if I embarrassed you sir, it’s just you were sitting at the front and…”

Two strides and the man was in front of Peter, his hand coming out of his pocket, silencing with a finger across his lips.

“I wasn’t embarrassed. Not at all.” The man’s hand shifted to cup Peter’s cheek and the young queen’s eyes fluttered, heat zipping through his body. “You intrigue me, Mr Parker, as no-one has in a while, and I find I want to know you better; find out who you are under all that pan-stick.” His other hand slid down Peter’s ribcage to settle just above his hip. “Would you like to know me better, Peter?” He lowered his head, plump lips almost brushing against Peter’s jaw, breathing in the hitched breath. “I could be good to you, baby boy. Would you like that?”

Peter couldn’t hold back the small needy whine. There was something about this man, his aura, his charisma. He exuded power and danger, but oh, Peter was ready to risk it all, just to be close to him. The man’s fingers were almost burning him where they rested against his body, his hot breath imbuing Peter with life where it ghosted against him. Peter swayed, his hands reaching out for the man’s jacket to steady himself.

Then, suddenly, his new boss took a step back. Peter caught himself on the edge of his dressing table, eyes snapping open. They met a dark pair of mischievous ones, and it took him a moment to realise he was being handed a small card. He took it, without looking, and clutched it to his chest, which was heaving under his breast forms.

“Give me a call, sweetheart, but don’t make me wait too long. I don’t like waiting.” With that, the man turned on his heels and headed out of the door.

Peter looked down at the card in his hand, aroused and confused. It took a moment for his eyes to focus, but when they did he dropped down onto his stool in shock. He read the card, over and over, each time thinking that it might say something different; but it didn’t.

His new boss, the man who had basically propositioned him, was Tony Stark, head of the local mafia; a man not to be underestimated or crossed under any circumstances. Rich, powerful and not above getting his hands dirty to make a statement.

Fuck!

What was he going to do now?

Starker Tag list: @ilikestarker @mrs-mischief-209 @marvelstarker-mha98

#starker fic #starker #peter x tony #mob!au #mob! tony #drag queen! peter #ironspider au #late to the queue

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