In regards to your latest post, I think #8 and Alpha Peter would be good!
thank you for the prompt!
8 - "All I want now is you between my legs"
StarkerFestivals Summer Bingo 2022 - Alpha Peter
Summary: Peter Parker, assistant to Stark Industries CEO Pepper Potts, is sent on an errand to Tony Stark's house. The meet-cute leads to Tony requesting Peter's assistance on various random things... including his heat.
Word Count: 6.5k
--
"I'm so sorry, Peter. He's not picking up his phone and these contracts are really important and some of these clauses need to be double-checked- I really can't send just anyone. I'd go myself if I didn't have that board meeting in an hour. And you're the only one who's been involved in this deal since the beginning-"
"It's fine, Ms. Potts, I don't mind," Peter assures. "And I'll debrief Miles again before I go to prepare him for your meeting later. I'm sure he can handle it."
Pepper nods, already gathering her files and running along. Alpha to the core, the Stark Industries CEO is always on the move, always one step ahead, thinking of her next moves while she works on the current. As her assistant, Peter needs to keep up quickly or he'll drown. Hiring a second assistant has made Peter's job a lot easier. Miles is a young beta, energetic, and a quick-learner. Peter's certain he can accompany Pepper by himself for the day.
And in all honesty, Peter could use the break.
--
The sleek, black company car drops Peter off in front of a sprawling, futuristic mansion perched on the bluffs of Point Dume, overlooking the Santa Monica bay. The place looks to be deserted. There are no security personnel all along the winding driveway, no other cars on the circular path by the glass-front entrance, no signs of any staff anywhere on the property.
As soon as Peter climbs out of the car and closes the door behind him, the driver takes off, presumably to find someplace to park. He seemed familiar enough with the area, which is more than Peter can say about himself.
Peter pauses on the steps by the mansion’s entrance, nonplussed by the lack of doorbell or knocker or even any surface he can rap his knuckles on to announce his presence. It’s all just sleek, wraparound glass, giving him an inside view of a massive, marble-tiled foyer, empty except for some confusing-looking sculptures and abstract art decorating the walls.
Looking around, Peter spots the dark lens of a security camera staring his way and a second later, the glass doors open.
“H-hello?” Peter calls out as he enters the premises. “Mr. Stark? I’m Peter. Peter Parker. Ms. Potts’s assistant.” He cringes inwardly at how inexperienced he sounds, upticking each sentence like it’s a question. He clears his throat. “I have some documents for you to look at.”
No answer. No assistant or housekeeper scurrying to greet him. A quick peek through an archway reveals a lavish dining room with a table that seats a dozen. Then around a corner there’s a luxurious living room with a sunken seating area, a pool table, and a grand piano. As far as Peter knows, Tony Stark, unmarried and single, lives alone. But he didn’t think the man would be alone alone. Peter’s inner alpha feels a twinge of discomfiture at the idea of an omega – or anyone really, he corrects himself – just sitting here unguarded, surrounded by all this wealth.
Or maybe Stark isn’t even home. Pepper did say he wasn’t picking up his phone. Maybe he’s out somewhere, maybe on a private jet gallivanting to some other country or whatever it is that rich people do when they-
Peter’s blood runs cold when he looks out the living room’s floor-to-ceiling glass windows and sees a dark shape floating in the middle of the infinity pool outside. He drops his briefcase and runs.
Peter doesn’t hesitate. As soon as he’s outside and gets to the pool’s edge, he dives in, clothes and all. A few kicks and he reaches the person, hauling their body face up towards the surface.
The person startles, blinking water out of their eyes.
Pretty eyes, Peter thinks dumbly even through his panic.
Water droplets cling to long, thick lashes as Tony Stark regards Peter with some amusement. “Oh. And who might you be?”
--
Tony Stark laughs and laughs as Peter sits on one of the poolside deck chairs, wringing chlorinated water out of his suit jacket.
“It’s not funny,” Peter grumbles. “I thought you were dead.”
Tony chuckles, grabbing a towel. “It’s a little funny. Serves you right for just wandering into a stranger’s house unannounced.”
Peter looks up at the man, spluttering. “I did announce! I called out to you but you didn’t answer. No one answered. And besides, your security camera let me in. How was I supposed to-”
Tony pauses the towel-drying of his hair, the dark tufts still wet but sticking up this way and that. “J.A.R.V.I.S. let you in? So you’re in the database?” Rivulets of water still run down the man’s surprisingly broad chest for an omega, past the dusky nipples, the hint of abs around his belly button, settling on the waistband of a pair of navy swim trunks that are so snug they leave nothing to the imagination.
Peter tears his eyes away with some difficulty. “I told you, I’m Ms. Potts’s assistant. I have- wait, ‘Jarvis’? So there is someone else here?”
“J.A.R.V.I.S., my A.I.. Weird, he didn’t say anything when you-” Tony snaps his fingers like he just remembered something. “Oh that’s right, I put him on mute earlier. I was stuck on a problem and needed some peace and quiet to think. Hence the, uh… meditation you caught me in.”
“‘Meditation’?” Peter snorts, giving up on his drenched suit jacket and tossing it aside. “You mean ‘impersonating a drowned corpse’?”
“Potato, tomato.” Tony waves a dismissive hand. He turns and gestures for Peter to follow. “Come on, I’ll get you some dry clothes.”
Peter gets up and walks behind the other man. He groans quietly, partly in discomfort at the soaked clothes sticking grossly to his body, a larger part in a decidedly different kind of discomfort at the sight of Tony Stark’s plush ass wrapped in those sinful swim trunks.
Jesus Christ, the way each ass cheek bounces with every step of the man’s toned legs. The stairs don’t help. With Peter a few steps behind, it just puts him at eye level with the omega’s wet ass. Peter’s thoughts are straying into dangerous territory and he desperately hopes that the chlorine he’s drenched in is covering any kind of arousal wafting from-
Peter reels back as he’s led through a doorway and he’s hit with a scent so strong and warm and homey. Sweet vanilla with a hint of peppery spice and something earthy and powdery like a bouquet of irises. Masculine, yet gentle. A gorgeous scent.
Peter realizes with slight alarm that Tony has taken him to his bedroom instead of one of the guest rooms a house this size must have. There’s a gigantic unmade bed on the far side of the room and beyond it, a stunning view of the Pacific Ocean. Tony heads towards the walk-in closet while Peter just stands there breathing in deep that mouth-watering scent permeating the space like he can’t get enough of it.
Tony re-emerges with some folded clothes. “Good thing you’re not one of those ‘roided up alpha types. Pretty sure these’ll fit you. Bathroom’s through there. Feel free to shower.”
Peter accepts what looks like a pair of jeans and a plain t-shirt. “What about you? Don’t you need to shower too?”
Tony’s eyes twinkle with mirth. “Are you inviting me to take a shower with you?”
Peter feels himself blush something fierce. “N-no! I meant- it’s your bathroom. You should be the first to-”
Tony laughs. “Relax, kid. Don’t think too much. Besides, I got better things to do right now.” He winks, then leaves the room.
--
Tony Stark’s bathroom is the fanciest bathroom Peter’s ever been in, and he’s stayed in a lot of nice, five-star hotels around the world accompanying Pepper on various business trips. It’s also by far the best-smelling bathroom Peter’s ever been in and he’s pretty sure it’s not the air freshener. It’s the same scent that filled the bedroom, but a bit lighter, not as saturated. Peter can practically feel the scent touching his skin as he strips down and he almost feels loath to wash it away.
Under the high-pressure stream of the showerhead, Peter wonders how he ended up here. Earlier this morning when he came into work and rode up the elevators to the executive floor of the Stark Industries building, he never thought that he would end up naked in a bathroom belonging to the owner of Stark Industries.
--
Tony’s clothes fit him fairly well. They’re of a similar height though Tony has broader shoulders, demonstrated by the slight looseness of the shirt’s upper half on Peter. What he thought was a plain grey t-shirt actually had an adorable little science illustration on it, portraying two cartoon atoms, one saying, “I lost an electron” while the other responded, “are you positive?”. Peter smiles to himself, imagining Tony Stark wearing a cute shirt like this.
Peter is looking around downstairs, trying to find Tony, when a voice, seemingly coming from everywhere at once, pipes up, “Mr. Stark is currently in his laboratory, down the stairs to your left.”
That must be the A.I., now unmuted, sounding like a perfectly refined, British butler.
“Um, thanks. J.A.R.V.I.S., right?” Peter asks.
“That’s right. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Parker. I apologize for not being able to greet you properly earlier, but as you may have noticed, Mr. Stark can be rather vexing.”
Peter chuckles. “That’s one way to put it.”
He follows J.A.R.V.I.S.’s direction and finds himself in a huge underground garage, as vast as the floor space above, with rows and rows of luxury and vintage cars lining the far end, while the area closer to Peter’s point of entry is cluttered with all sorts of computers, parts, and machinery.
A robot arm appears to notice Peter’s presence, rearing up and clacking its metal claws at him. Peter gives it an awkward wave and the robot arm rotates its claw a few times and makes what sounds like excited chirping noises.
“Shut up, DUM-E, I’m thinking,” Tony mutters from where he’s seated on one of the benches, peering through several magnifying lenses to tweak at something absurdly tiny with a fine pair of tweezers. His hair is still damp and dishevelled but he’s put on a white tank top and some grey sweatpants. He looks insanely hot, but-
Peter raises an eyebrow. “What did you just call me?”
Tony looks up and his eyes rake unabashedly from Peter’s head to toe, nose twitching. “Not you dummy. Him DUM-E.” Tony jerks his head towards the robot arm, who bobs his distal appendage up and down in response to his name before picking up a conical dunce hat from a nearby bench and waving it at him. On the front surface of the hat is written ‘DUM-E’ in large block letters.
“That’s awful,” Peter says, but he chuckles at the adorable display. Then, remembering why he’s here in the first place, he clears his throat. “So listen, Ms. Potts sent over some contracts-”
“Yeah, I know. I looked at it. It’s fine.” Tony’s attention has returned to whatever it is he was tinkering with when Peter walked in.
Peter blinks. “It’s… Did you read the part where Stark Industries would waive any rights to-”
“Uh-huh, it’s fine.”
“And the part where any damage incurred from-”
“Yes, yes. It’s all fine,” Tony says with a touch of impatience. “I told you, I read it. Got all your little documents right here in your briefcase. I put notes for Pepper in the margins. Or was there any more homework she sent you to give me?”
“Oh,” Peter says, chagrined. “I didn’t think- That was quick. I mean, thanks for taking the time to-”
“Nothing to it,” Tony says with a dismissive wave. Then he smirks. “Besides, you did take a long shower.”
Peter stammers his way through denial, then thank-yous, then goodbyes as he takes his briefcase and excuses himself quickly before he embarrasses himself any further.
The driver who takes him back to the city only gives a brief glance at the fact that Peter is leaving wearing different clothes than the one he came in with, and doesn’t ask any questions.
--
“So?” Miles corners Peter at the cafeteria the next work day. “What was he like?”
“Who, Tony?” Peter asks without thinking.
“Well, I was gonna say ‘Mr. Stark’. But sure, Tony.”
Peter adamantly ignores Miles’s growing smirk. “He’s…” he hedges, thinking of broad shoulders he gripped in the pool, of water droplets dripping down a toned body, of wet swim trunks clinging to plump ass cheeks, of brown eyes and dark lashes and amused smiles, of warm vanilla and earthy spices over a garden of iris blooms. “…weird,” he finally settles on.
--
There’s a vein in Pepper’s temple that’s threatening to pop when Peter is called into her office the following week.
Peter had expected the worst, but he was subjected to only fifteen minutes of his boss ranting about how she is not in fact, Tony Stark’s personal assistant anymore, and that she is actually Chief Executive Officer of his company, a position that he himself personally appointed to her after stepping down as CEO, a position that, contrary to his belief, is rife with tasks and responsibility, and therefore she should not be burdened with concerns about Tony Stark’s laundry of all things.
“He’s making you do his laundry?” Peter asks, mystified, but also trying not to laugh lest he offend the woman paying his salary. Tony Stark really is something else.
Pepper fixes Peter a look with the most exasperation he’s ever seen on an alpha. “No, he’s making you do his laundry. He’s making me give you the day off to do so.”
--
In all honesty, Peter doesn’t mind doing laundry. If Tony Stark wants him to spend the day sitting in the company car taking some suits to the dry cleaner’s and back, then he’ll be a good little employee and do what the company owner says.
Except, as it turns out, that’s not exactly what Tony wants him to do.
“Um,” Peter stares at the contents of the laundry basket Tony sets in front of him, slightly horrified. “Don’t you have… Who usually does this for you?”
“I have a housekeeper who comes in every few days. But he’s on maternity leave right now. And I don’t like the idea of strangers handling my things so…” Tony claps his hands once. “Chop chop. I need all of this done or else I’m going commando on live TV tomorrow.” He gives Peter a little smirk. “Not for the first time. But I don’t want that new anchor to get any ideas. I know what you young alphas are like.”
“I- what-”
“Anyway. Let me know when you’re done. I’ll be in the lab.” And before Peter could say anything else, Tony breezes out of the laundry room, leaving him with a hamper full of the man’s… delicates.
Peter stares at them like they’re a basket of snakes waiting to strike. They’re decidedly not like the plain, cotton-blend boxer briefs Peter owns that come in packets of five from Costco. These are a pile of silk and lace and satin and mesh, in a whole spectrum of colours and patterns, from bold reds and blacks to soft pinks and blues. All, no doubt, absurdly expensive. Peter can see intricate little flowers embroidered into some of the thin straps, and… are those rhinestones? Pearls?
Peter’s dick twitches in interest as his mind conjures up images of Tony Stark, sprawled out on his lush massive bed, wearing nothing but one of these panties. Such a gorgeous, unattainable omega that Peter has no business fantasizing about. But the idea of those delicate straps and lace wrapping that perfect ass… Thin, flimsy material barely covering that dripping pussy…
Peter reaches in and picks up a pretty little thong with cut-outs on the front, barely any fabric on the gusset. But oh god, the scent that hits his nose as soon as he lifted it from the hamper. It’s that same vanilla-iris he knows as fundamentally Tony, but inexplicably sweeter, thicker, deliciously caramel-like, and almost boozy with how light-headed it makes Peter feel.
Without thinking, Peter lifts it to his face-
“The detergent is under the sink,” J.A.R.V.I.S.’s disembodied voice suddenly says, making Peter jump guiltily. “Use the mild, unscented one. The white bottle with the blue cap.”
“Uh, right. Thanks.” Peter shakes his head, hoping to god that the A.I. isn’t so advanced that he could read minds.
Peter tries to cleanse his thoughts as he hand-washes Tony’s intoxicating scent out of those dirty panties. His head clears with every rinse of clean, cold water through the delicate fabric. But as he lays them all out neatly on a drying rack, he gets real familiar with the skimpy styles of each elaborate piece, and Peter’s traitorous brain insists on showing him what Tony would look like wearing each of them.
--
It’s not always swim trunks and lingerie.
Tony started summoning Peter to help him with random, innocuous things around the lab. One time, he wanted Peter there to be a ‘fresh nose’ to detect any possible gas leak from whatever mechanical contraption he was messing around with because he was beginning to get ‘olfactory fatigue’.
Another time he wanted Peter to lug a bunch of crates from the driveway down to the lab. Peter had sweated all through his button-up from all the heavy lifting that day and he must have stunk so bad that Tony started giving him weird looks, though the man graciously didn’t comment on it.
But sometimes Tony just wanted Peter to come to the lab and talk, brainstorm, spitball ideas. Peter knows a fair bit about science and engineering. He has to, as an employee of Stark Industries, but he’s mostly worked on the business side of things with Pepper. He feels woefully inadequate as a mind-sparring partner to the incredible genius that is Tony Stark. He doesn’t know exactly what he offers to the table but Tony insists that Peter’s unsullied perspective is exactly what he needs.
Peter loves those kinds of visits best, when he can just be there and soak in Tony Stark’s brilliance, surrounded by the sharp tang of metal and motor oil softened up by the gentle powdery warmth of Tony’s own scent. It’s easy to talk with Tony, whether it’s about mundane, everyday things or about the technical matter of engineering. Tony is astute and funny and surprisingly sweet demonstrated by the fond exasperation he uses to address his robotic creations.
Peter deeply enjoys spending time with Tony, and he thinks the other man does too. Tony’s requests for Peter’s presence and assistance become enough of a habit that even Pepper stops fighting it, for the sake of her mental wellbeing. She’s worked with Tony long enough to know to choose her battles, and Peter isn’t exactly complaining.
--
The first time Peter meets Tony outside of his house is during a Stark Industries-sponsored charity event at the Beverly Hills Four Seasons hotel. It’s a Friday night, and instead of going out for drinks with the guys from finance, both Peter and Miles are working overtime, helping Pepper micromanage every aspect of the event.
Peter spots Tony on the other side of the hall, easily the best-dressed one in there with his tailored all-black suit and tinted glasses. He’s speaking with a tall, blond man, clean-shaven, handsome in an all-American way, and built like he should be on the cover of one of those alpha fitness magazines. Their conversation appears intimate, unlike the throwaway charm and banter Tony presents to the other guests. The blond alpha crowds into Tony’s space while the omega looks up at him through his lashes, speaking quietly.
They look good together, Peter thinks with a sinking heart. A physical specimen of an alpha for the world’s most eligible omega.
But then Peter sees the alpha try to take hold of Tony’s elbow but Tony jerks his arm away, saying something sharply to the other man before storming off towards the terrace.
Peter’s hackles rise. Who is this alpha? He tenses, ready to intervene if the alpha looks to pursue Tony further with unwanted attention. Fortunately, the man just finishes his drink and makes his way to the exit, in the opposite direction.
Peter weaves through the crowd and makes his way towards where he saw Tony headed. The terrace is quieter than the main hall, and Tony is standing by the balustrade, glasses tucked in his pocket, the summer breeze ruffling his dark hair and carrying with it the faint scent of vanilla pods and iris blossoms.
“Hey, you alright?” Peter asks on approach.
Tony turns to look at him. “Always. Why do you ask?”
“I just… saw you with that guy earlier.”
“Oh. Steve.”
“Is he your, um, boyfriend?”
“No,” Tony says with a slight scoff. “Well…” he rethinks it for a few seconds before he decides, “no, we’re just friends. With benefits,” he adds. “Except now that the benefits are cooling off, it turns out we’re not really great at being friends, so… I guess we’re just- or at least I’m just- an annoyance.”
“Well he’s an idiot,” Peter says matter-of-factly.
Tony quirks a smile at him. “‘Why, no, Tony, don’t say that! You’re not an annoyance at all!’,” he retorts in good nature.
Peter returns his smile. “You are an annoyance. But I like that about you.”
Tony looks away. While it’s hard to tell his expression in the low light, Peter is so attuned to the omega’s scent by now that he picks up a slight change in it, warmer, stickier, spicier than usual.
Peter breathes in deep. “Tony, are you…”
“My heat is due this weekend.”
“Should you be out here like this?” Peter asks, concerned.
“Now you just sound like Steve,” Tony says wryly.
“I didn’t mean it that way.” Peter frowns. “Is that why… is that what the fight was about earlier?”
Tony shrugs. “Just didn’t feel like spending it with him this time. Or the time before this one. He’s taking it a lot better this time around, though.” He chuckles at the sight of Peter’s face and he reaches out to smooth the frown lines on Peter’s forehead with his thumb. “Don’t hurt your little head over it, alpha,” he says, the title making Peter preen a little. “It’s no big deal.”
“It should be,” Peter insists. “Heats belong to no one but the omega. No one should feel entitled to it.”
Tony’s hand moves down to cup Peter’s face, gaze dropping to his lips.
Peter’s heart thuds as time seems to stand still, then speed up all at once when they both close the distance between them to kiss. It’s soft and sweet, as first kisses tend to be, but the want inside them quickly rises, rushing heat through their veins. It lights a fire in their kiss as their hands move to grasp each other, touching like they’ve always wanted.
Tony makes a soft noise when Peter flicks his tongue against the seam of his lips and Peter already wants more of that sound. It’s heady, surrounded by the omega’s enticing scent and taste. Peter can hardly believe that he’s kissing the Tony Stark.
An insistent buzzing in Peter’s pocket interrupts them.
“Either you’re very excited about this, or someone’s calling you,” Tony murmurs against his lips.
“I’ll take it later,” Peter says, pulling Tony in closer, hungry for his taste.
“It could be Pepper. And if it is, then we’re both in trouble.”
Peter groans and pulls away. He answers the phone and Miles’s voice comes through, tinny and frantic, something about Pepper looking for him. It’s hard to concentrate with Tony’s face nuzzled against his neck, scenting deep. Peter hastily assures Miles that he’ll be right there and hangs up.
“If she fires you, then you’d be free to play with me all the time,” Tony jokes, kissing his neck.
“Don’t tempt me,” Peter sighs, closing his eyes, enjoying the feel of Tony’s lips on his skin. “I should go.”
“I know.” Tony’s mouth makes a kiss trail up Peter’s jaw to the corner of his lips. “God, you’re driving me nuts already. Peter… if you want, feel free to come to the house tomorrow.”
Peter’s eyes fly open. “Tomorrow? But that’s your-”
“Uh-huh.”
“Your heat. You want me to-”
Tony pulls away, raising an eyebrow. “Look at me, last chance, yes or no?”
“Yes,” Peter says quickly, grinning. They kiss again, giddy, unable to keep their hands off each other. They kiss and kiss until Peter’s phone goes off again. “Fuck! Okay, I really gotta go.”
“Hmm,” Tony agrees, placing one final kiss on Peter’s cheek before letting him go.
Walking away from Tony is the hardest thing Peter’s had to do, especially with the other man looking slightly dishevelled, smelling so sweetly like an omega in heat already.
Peter hesitates. “Tony, I don’t want to be presumptuous with you, but… I really think you should… I mean, it would make me feel better if-”
“Don’t worry, I’m going straight home.” Tony smirks and glances down at himself. “Gotta take care of this little problem you gave me somewhere a little more private.”
Peter rushes back into the main hall and wonders if Pepper and Miles can see the blush in his face or smell the vanilla and iris on his skin.
--
The next morning, Peter takes an uber to Point Dume and J.A.R.V.I.S. lets him in the house.
It feels dangerously intimate. Peter’s exhausted, having just worked late into the night with his hardass boss, and now, stepping into the now familiar house that smells so much like the omega he lo- likes very much… it almost feels like coming home.
“Mr. Stark is still asleep in his room,” J.A.R.V.I.S. informs him. “I’ve been instructed to tell you to head right upstairs. But may I suggest encouraging him take some electrolyte drinks? I do believe he’d be more receptive to your persuasion rather than mine.”
Peter chuckles. “Will do, Jarv. Got some right here.” He pats the tote bag he brought with him stuffed full of home-made sandwiches, heat snacks, and bottles of electrolyte water.
Peter takes the stairs two steps at a time, feeling invigorated as Tony’s scent grows stronger the closer he gets. He slips quietly into the bedroom, still dark with the curtains drawn against the morning sun, and practically sighs in contentment, enveloped by the sweet cloud of Tony’s pheromones.
The omega is a rumpled bundle under the fluffy blankets, rising and falling with every slow breath. Peter strips down to his shirt and boxers, sits on the edge of the bed, and pulls the blanket back slowly, revealing Tony fast asleep underneath. Peter runs his fingers gently through the omega’s dark hair, marvelling in its softness.
Tony snuffles closer at the touch, forehead creasing, nose twitching. “Alpha?” he murmurs, eyes blinking open slowly.
“I’m here, omega,” Peter says, chest feeling like it’s about to burst at being able to call Tony that.
Tony smiles at the endearment, rolling over to throw an arm over Peter’s waist, pressing his nose against his skin. The blankets fall away and reveal that Tony’s been sleeping completely nude.
Peter runs a hand down Tony’s bare back. “Do you want some water? You’re starting to burn up. You should hydrate.”
Tony moves his hand from Peter’s hips to fondle at his cock through his boxers. “All I want now is you between my legs.”
Peter lets out a soft grunt at the stimulation but he holds firm. “Water first, omega, then you can have my cock.”
Dark brown eyes blink up at Peter through thick lashes, a touch of wilfulness in them. But Peter just gives a small smile and Tony sits up to receive the offered drink. Tony scoops up the straw with his tongue in a way that is not at all meant to be enticing, keeping eye contact with Peter as he sucks and swallows the fluids.
“Mmm,” Tony licks his lips when he’s done, like it’s the sweetest nectar and not some plain water with bland hints of lemon.
“Alright,” Peter mutters, snatching the bottle and setting it haphazardly on the bedside table before lunging to capture those infuriating lips in a hungry kiss. He can feel Tony grin against him and he lets himself be tugged on the bed on top of the omega.
Tony’s thighs fall open and Peter settles between them. The sheets, the pillows, the blankets, they all smell so much like Tony. It’s like sinking into a cloud of the most mouth-watering vanilla-caramel and earthy, woody spices.
“Oh, fuck,” Peter sighs, feeling dizzy with want. He buries his nose in the crook of Tony’s neck, inhaling deep, scenting, kissing him.
Insistent hands tug at Peter’s shirt and boxers. “Off, off. Get this off,” Tony orders.
“Impatient,” Peter teases, as though he’s not dying to sink into the sweet warmth of the omega’s body. He leans up and strips the rest of the way, revelling in the way Tony runs his hands appreciatively up and down his chest and stomach, eyes darkening even further with lust.
Tony curls a hand around Peter’s cock that’s been hard and aching since Tony’s scent entered his bloodstream. “I need this in me now,” Tony breathes, stroking Peter, who bucks at his touch.
Peter covers Tony’s body with his, kissing him. Their bare chests press against each other in a delicious glide, the touch of skin on skin like liquid fire. Peter grips Tony’s thigh, hitching it up, angling his pelvis so that their hips grind against each other, his hard cock meeting Tony’s pussy lips.
“You’re so wet,” Peter murmurs in wonder. His shaft drags up and down the seam of Tony’s pussy, spreading slick everywhere.
“Touched myself all night, thinking of you,” Tony moans, hips twitching every time Peter’s cockhead rubs against his aching clit. “Couldn’t wait for you to take me.”
Peter groans, unable to wait anymore. His hand presses the top of his dick, angling it towards the entrance of the pussy that’s dripping for him, slipping inside in a nice, easy stretch.
“Ohh, god,” Tony gives a shuddery gasp, fingernails digging into the meat of Peter’s shoulders.
“You alright?” Peter pants, pleasure-drunk at the snug, warm grip of the omega’s body.
“Yeah… yeah, you feel perfect, ohh-” Tony’s back arches when Peter’s fingers plays with his slippery clit while rolling his hips, stroking his cock against Tony’s sensitive insides.
Peter feels Tony get even wetter, walls rippling around his cock, the omega’s first orgasm of the day. “Beautiful,” Peter marvels. “Feeling good?” He kisses Tony through it, never stopping the movements of his hips, giving the omega a nice pressure to convulse on.
Tony hums in affirmative, eyes closed in bliss. “Want more. Want your knot.”
Peter slips out until only the tip remains inside, the slams back in, punching a deep groan out of the omega. He sets up a thrusting pace, losing himself to the luscious friction of Tony’s wet, tight pussy. He kisses and touches Tony all over as he fucks him, drunk on his taste, his scent. It’s not long before he feels the orgasm forming low in his stomach. He angles his pelvis, hitting a spot that makes Tony gasp and moan.
“Come for me again and I’ll give you my knot, omega,” Peter promises.
“Fuck me there harder and I will,” Tony pants, hands low on Peter’s ass to encourage his thrusts.
Peter picks up the pace, pounding away, giving the omega what he wants. He kisses and swallows Tony’s breathy moans, each thrust hitting exactly where he’s sensitive and achy. Tony’s back bows up as he climaxes hard. The clench around Peter’s cock is so good that he knots on the next thrust, locking them together. Peter groans long and low as he cums, spilling over and over as Tony’s pussy massages him in the wake of his orgasm.
They take a little nap and Peter wakes up to find he’s slipped out of Tony’s pussy, but now he’s got the omega’s mouth around his cock, licking and sucking it into hardness. Before he knows it, Tony is straddling him, guiding his cock into the pussy that’s still slick with his spend.
Tony rides him in a languid pace, closing his eyes and throwing his head back, moaning so beautifully, bouncing and rolling his hips, using Peter’s alpha cock like dildo.
Peter runs his hands up and down Tony’s toned thighs, feeling the muscles work beneath his touch. He watches Tony ride him, mesmerized, The omega looks so stunning, naked, skin dewy with sweat, flushed slightly pink from his heat, lust writ all over his face. Peter can’t believe he gets to have this, to give pleasure to the most gorgeous omega in the world, to share such an intimate part of his life.
Peter feels his knot start to swell again. He grabs Tony’s hips, pulling him down with every upward thrust until his knot pops past the entrance and they’re tied together once more, Peter spilling another load into that spasming grip.
They fuck on and off all day as Tony’s heat grows more intense. Peter manages to get him to eat and makes sure he takes in the required amount of hydration. Tony seemed surprised that Peter brought provisions for him. It turns out Tony already has a mini-fridge full of everything he needs for his heat and Peter feels a little sheepish about his sad offerings compared to Tony’s supply of expensive protein bars, supplements, and fresh organic berries.
Tony insists on having Peter’s sandwiches though, kissing him on the cheek, commenting on what a good alpha he has. He’s probably just teasing but Peter still preens at being called a ‘good alpha’, especially when Tony finishes all the sandwiches with gusto and lets Peter hand-feed him some blueberries.
--
Tony starts writhing and begging for his alpha later that evening, and Peter lays him out, the omega’s back to his chest, and touches him all over. He surrounds Tony with his alpha scent, arms around him, one hand rubbing his clit while the other plays with his pussy. He fondles and fingers Tony into several shuddering orgasms that way as he whispers sweet nothings into his ear. And once Tony is nice and relaxed, Peter angles his cock and spears it inside, rocking slowly, knotting him through a leisurely, prolonged orgasm.
Peter’s cock hardly ever left Tony’s pussy all through the night, always hard and ready to use whenever Tony wakes in the middle of the night, wet and horny. Peter’s never had so much sex in such a short amount of time, but there’s something about Tony’s insatiable lust, the way his alluring vanilla-iris scent sinks into his veins. It lights almost like a rut in him, gives him the fire and energy to fulfil his omega’s needs.
--
The next day, when Peter is in the kitchen making breakfast, Tony finds the energy to join him downstairs, wearing the t-shirt Peter came in wearing the previous day and a pair of lacy panties. The shirt is a little tight on him, stretching obscenely across his chest, pink nipples clearly imprinted against the thin fabric, and the hems barely skim past his belly button.
Peter stares, forgetting the stack of pancakes he was arranging on two plates.
Tony saunters over with a casual “good morning, alpha”, then runs his index finger through the maple syrup on the pancakes, then licking the stickiness off, playful eyes on Peter the whole time.
Tony ends up bent and pounded over the kitchen counter. Peter, discovering the crotchless nature of the omega’s panties, keeps them on as he enters him in a smooth glide. Their moans and grunts and the sound of their skin slapping echo through the vast kitchen. At some point Peter hauls Tony up and carries him bodily to the living room sofa so he can knot him somewhere more comfortable.
They cool off with a naked dip in the pool later that afternoon, the place where they first met. They splash and laugh and wrestle each other in the water between kisses until Peter lifts Tony up by the hips to settle him on the edge of the pool. Then Peter buries his face between the omega’s thighs, licking and sucking the pool water off his pussy until all he can taste is that sweet slick. Tony arches his back and moans under the setting California sun, fingers digging into Peter’s wet hair before cumming all over the alpha’s face.
That night they lie in bed side by side facing each other, holding hands, talking about nothing and everything. They kiss, legs tangled, and explore each other’s bodies in reverent touches unhurried by the frantic urgencies of heat. Then as Peter fucks his tired omega to sleep, he thinks about what a lucky alpha he is.
--
Peter wakes up warm and comfortable and surrounded by what is now his favourite scent in the world, his omega satiated and asleep on his chest. He kisses the top of Tony’s head, buries his face in his hair, breathing in deep.
Tony gives a sleepy grunt, the arm draped around Peter’s stomach squeezing tighter.
It’s such a perfect way to start the morning that Peter almost forgets that the weekend is over and he needs to get back to the real world.
“Shit, it’s Monday,” Peter sighs, placing his forearm over his eyes.
“No, it’s not,” Tony mumbles, burying his nose in the crook of Peter’s neck. “It’s fuck-Tony-all-day day. I’m still in heat.”
“No you’re not. And besides, I don’t have any heat leave days. There’s gonna be an evaluation meeting about Friday’s charity event. Not to mention the appraisal on the drone project that’s been put off since-”
“Hmm, no,” Tony declares decisively. He leans up and reaches over Peter’s body to get to his phone on the nightstand, making a quick call. "Hey, Pep,” he greets once his CEO answers. “You got another boy-toy in there to boss around, right? I'm keeping this one for the rest of the week. Don't call him if you need me. And give the man some heat leave. What are you, a tyrant?” Tony hangs up before Pepper can say anything more, and he tosses the phone somewhere on the carpets. Peter gapes for a few moments, then laughs as his outlandish omega tugs him back in a claiming kiss.
--
@starkerfestivals
also big thanks to @khalixascorner for helping me with the smut part of this fic. i wouldn't have been able to finish this without you!
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