3 Works by Frailcanines
Listing Works
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Summary
Peter’s mind was a disastrous scramble of fear, embarrassment, and lust, and the only thought that he could grasp onto before it melted away was how badly he wished he could just give in and let Mr. Stark use him as he saw fit. There was a white-hot twist of humiliation low in his gut that should’ve, by all accounts, prevented him from submitting as he was, but a larger part of him couldn’t let go of how much he’d longed for this just hours ago, to be shamed and degraded by Tony’s hands and by his gaze.
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“You serious?” Steve said, eyebrows drawn together. “Really?”
“Always serious,” Billy affirmed, before fixing him with a look, “But listen to me.”
Steve nodded, eyes tracking as Billy’s free hand fixed itself in a point and pinned him.
“You work here, you work under me. You’re gonna do what I say, and you’re not gonna make me regret doing fucking charity work, alright?”
Swallowing slightly, Steve nodded. “Got it.”
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“Oh, really?” Scott spit, striding over, face hardening to match his dilated eyes. He splayed his left hand over Stiles’ stomach and gripped his shoulder with the other, shoving him backward until his shoulder blades collided with the tawny-colored rock. “You mean that?”
The exterior of the rock was rough, and scraped against the bare skin of Stiles’ back, already flushed from the red-hot anger that had formed in his face and spread down the rest of his body. The sky blue towel that had been thrown over his shoulder slipped with the struggle and ended up tangled beneath their sneakers as Scott further invaded his space. His muscles were rigid with frustration, but he remained focused enough to track the movement of the other boy’s hand from his sternum to his hip. His breath stilled when Scott pressed into the bone visible there, eyes unflinching as they gazed into his.
“Answer me.”
Stiles broke his gaze, tilting his head to the side and feeling Scott’s warm, heaving breaths against his cheekbone. “I mean it.”