#(s o b s i screwed up at work and there’s no way to undo it (forgot to turn off some equipment before i left so. aaaa))

[deus-ex-mona]

remember when halloween aizo and white day yujiro had special gacha voice lines l m a o

[carelessannie]

maybe it goes like this: tony courts peter (part 6)

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Epilogue

Read on A03

Read the Stuckony backstory

Word count: 8.6K

Stuckony focus, background Starker, SpiderHawk, and Stuckony x Hawk ships

Peter’s pack is coming over tonight, and Stuckony is nervous. Half of this is smut, half is a conversation with a surprise visitor...

Major warnings: D/S Au, A/B/O Au, explicit d/s abo smut, bondage, edging, plugs, oral/anal, blindfolds, knotting, *reference to past attempted sexual abuse of a minor* (really brief, non-explicit, but take care and be aware.)

---

maybe it goes like this:

No, baby, I— yes, sweet Omega everything will be… do you trust me? … but that was only one time… Peter, I swear to you… yes, he’s fine— excited, yes baby, excited…

Steve has been listening to Tony’s one sided conversation with Peter for an hour and has come to a conclusion— his Beta is completely gone on this Omega.

That, and Steve is completely screwed.

If this guy has been able to reduce Tony to a soft, agreeable mess, Steve is severely concerned for his own wellbeing.

One compromising Omega is tricky enough.

Speaking of, Bucky is currently lounging across the opposite end of their couch, feet resting in Steve’s lap, and openly laughing at Tony’s attempt to sooth his worried mate.

“Hush, Buck,” Steve pinches one of his feet, and gets a kick in return, “Tony’s cute with his mate.”

“You’re a lyin’ punk, Stevie. I know it’s freakin’ you out, jus’ like him.”

Steve shakes his head, firmly in denial, “I’m fine. Excited,” Bucky laughs at him, as he tries to convince his dumb Omega, “c’mon, you know I’ve been anxious to meet ‘im. Tonight is gonna be great.”

Across the room, Tony is still sweet talking his mate over the phone, and Bucky withdraws his feet, standing to walk past Steve into the kitchen.

He leans down, pushing into Steve’s space, and brushes his lips, delicately, over his ear,

“After you finish worrying, Alpha, maybe I can help with that anxiety.”

Bucky goes to walk away, but Steve’s hands shoot out, grabbing the smaller man and reeling him back in to sit across his lap. His growl earns an amused laugh from the Omega, but that’s not what Steve wants.

His left hand moves, gripping tight in Bucky’s hair and pulling his head back. He buries his teeth in the meat of his mate’s neck, biting down slightly in a warning, and he enjoys how it makes Bucky shiver.

“St- eeeeve—”

“— hush, Omega,” Steve pulls him close, grinding up into his ass to let Bucky feel where he’s hardening up, “you feelin’ needy, sweetheart? Tell me what you need, Buck.”

“N—no, Stevie, I just—”

He grips tighter, pulling back to look at his mate.

“Tell me, Omega.”

“Alpha… need you, Alpha.”

“Good boy,” he praises, and Bucky shakes again, opening and closing his lips in a silent plea. Steve tsks, a teasing sound he knows drives Bucky crazy, and slips two fingers from his right hand into the open mouth, pulling slightly on the hair still gripped in his left hand.

As Bucky moans and sucks eagerly, Steve calls out to Tony,

“Beta, are you almost done on the phone?”

Tony sighs, pacing away from them, “yeah, hold up, Alpha.”

Bucky squirms in his lap, and his small hands cling on to Steve’s shoulders, almost painfully.

“Beta,” Steve warns, “tell him we’ll see them later tonight, and hang up.”

The direct command gets Tony’s attention, finally, and he freezes when he takes in the scene on the couch. He says something in the phone, and hangs up— slowly putting the phone on the counter and walking carefully to where they are seated.

“Was that a command, Alpha?” he asks, stopping next to Steve’s shoulder and looking to the Alpha for permission to touch.

Steve ignores his question, instead pulling Bucky’s head back further and withdrawing his fingers, eliciting a small please from the Omega. With this silent permission, Tony’s hands move— one cupping Bucky’s jaw, and the other resting on top of Steve’s shoulder.

Bucky’s breath is picking up, and Steve knows he needs to get control over this scene before his mate floats away.

“I think he needs us, Beta. Whaddaya think— blue room?”

They ignore Bucky as he tries to nod his head, eyes closed and mouth moving wordlessly.

“Sounds good to me, Alpha. Such a greedy boy— gonna be good for us, Bucky?”

“Yes, y—yes, Beta, so good…”

“Look at me, baby,” Steve releases his hold on Bucky’s hair, instead shifting so he can look into dark, desperate eyes, “we have just enough time for a scene together. I’ll ask a couple questions, and I want stoplight answers from both of you. Do you understand, Omega?”

Wide eyes blink back at him, “G—green, Alpha.”

Steve doesn’t take his eyes off Bucky as he asks, “Beta?”

“Green, Alpha.”

He relaxes more, comforted by his mates’ easy submission to these rules, and leans forward to press a gentle kiss to Bucky’s slightly parted lips.

“Thank you, baby. Once we get into the blue room, Tony and I are gonna tie you up. He’s gonna blindfold you and keep you on edge, and then you��re gonna listen as I fuck him. After he comes, Tony will be in charge until you end up on my knot. Color?”

“Damn, Steve,” Tony breathes out, as Bucky continues his stream of begging and whining, before both of them agree,

“Green, Alpha.”

“Good boys,” he squeezes Tony’s hand and gives Bucky another kiss, “how do you feel about Tony being in charge?”

“Green, Alpha,” his boys chorus.

“And do you want my knot, Omega?”

“Yes, please, so green, Alpha.”

Steve turns to look at Tony, “I will check in throughout the scene, and you will check in on us once you take charge, understood?”

He gets a cheeky grin from his Beta, “Green, Steve.”

It’s been a learning experience between the two of them to work out the exchange of dominance during a scene, but Steve thinks it’s been well worth it. He loves planning scenes with Tony, and watching how beautifully Bucky submits to both of them. He knows the Beta is on board with his plan— and the use of his familiar name confirms Tony’s consent for the exchange. As they work together to move Bucky into the blue room, Steve smiles fondly at the Beta, and Tony leans over to give him a peck on the cheek.

He whispers before Tony moves back, “You good bottoming for me, Tony?”

Tony walks away from them to close the door, pulls a cushion over for Bucky to kneel on, and opens the fridge before answering, “Green, Alpha,” with a sly wink.

Steve rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to the Omega in his arms, surprised to see Bucky grinning at him and definitely more aware than he thought.

Well. There’s definitely time to change that.

“Whatcha smilin’ at, baby?” he teases, grabbing Bucky’s wrists around his back.

Bucky shakes his head in denial, but is still looking up at Steve with so much adoration that his heart aches.

“Just happy, Alpha.”

Tony returns at that moment, signaling that the room is set up for the scene and aftercare. Steve takes a moment to breathe and look into Bucky’s eyes, searching for any hesitation, and steps back, satisfied.

“Kneel for me, Omega.”

Since the first time Bucky kneeled for him in middle school, Steve has never felt more at peace than when his sub, his Omega, gracefully drops to his knees in perfect submission. He hears Tony swear under his breath, and he has to agree. Nothing is quite as beautiful as his submissive.

He addresses Tony next, “Strip him, Beta,” the Beta nods and begins with his shirt. Once the t-shirt is tossed away, Steve gestures to the ropes and mutters star harness to get Tony moving.

As the Beta begins binding Bucky’s arms behind his back and ropes around his chest, Steve focuses back on his Omega.

Bucky’s eyes are wide and clear, and his lips are red from where he’s bitten them to keep quiet. Steve traces a finger down his face, admiring his features and the pretty flush, and stops underneath his chin. His thumb rests on Bucky’s lower lip, and pulls down slightly.

“It’s all yours, baby.”

Bucky leans forward as far as he can in Tony’s hold and sucks his thumb in, letting his eyes flutter closed as he hums and smiles around Steve’s finger.

Tony looks up, taking in the view, and moans, “Oh, Alpha, he’s so pretty. Look at those lips.”

“Hear that, Omega? What do you tell your Beta?”

Bucky pulls off with a pop.

“Thank you, Beta, please—”

Steve shuts him up with two fingers this time, working them underneath his tongue and tracing the lines of his teeth, the roof of his mouth. He works them into a rhythm— aware that the shallow thrusts of his fingers are a promise for something larger later on.

Tony is about halfway finished with the ties, so Steve pushes Bucky off his fingers, laughing at how he collapses back into Tony’s arms. Bucky is panting, eyes blown wide and foggy. Damn, his sub has such an oral fixation. He knew that his fingers— plus the ropes— would put him in subspace fast.

He always enjoys a challenge.

As Bucky tries to reorient himself, Steve pulls his own shirt off, tossing it away, and undoes his fly. Tony pauses to watch, and Steve makes eye contact with his Beta as he pulls himself out.

“Like whatcha see, Beta?” he teases, grabbing the base of his cock, and slapping it once, twice against his left hand, “wanna get on your knees for me, too?”

It’s an offer that Tony usually laughs off— uninterested in submitting to Steve in that way— so he’s surprised when Tony finishes the final knot and drops to his knees next to Bucky. He drags the Omega closer to where Steve’s standing, and licks his lips obscenely.

“Only if you promise to share, Alpha.”

Steve groans, and steps closer. He meets Tony halfways as his Beta places a soft kiss to the tip, ducking down and licking a teasing strip up his length. Bucky whines— eager to taste, but always such a good boy— and wouldn’t dare to take any without permission.

Tony sinks down, slowly, over the head and suckles lightly, refusing to take more into his mouth. He pulls off and does it again— barely applying stimulation as he winks and grins around his mouthful.

Steve has to refrain from fucking his frustration into Tony’s face, and pulls out.

He reaches forward to tangle his fingers into Tony’s hair, and sees the challenge in his Beta’s eyes. Do it goes unsaid, so Steve turns Tony’s face to the side, patting his cheek gently with the underside of his cock. Tony growls, and Steve releases him.

“Get undressed, Tony, and don’t fuck with me. If you can’t be a good boy, you won’t get rewards.”

Tony groans and reaches down to grip himself through his jeans, “Dammit, Alpha.” but stands up to follow his command regardless.

Ignoring the bratty dom, Steve looks down into Bucky’s eyes.

And wow.

He’s gone.

Usually the Omega would laugh at their banter— but like this, all he has is sweet, pliant submissive at his feet.

Bucky looks so hungry, and Steve can tell that he’s only making eye contact as a courtesy to Steve, because he’s so good.

He reaches both hands out to pull Bucky in close, and coos at the pained whimper from his Omega.

“Hungry, baby? Want me to fuck that pretty face?”

It’s barely a question he needs an answer for, letting the pleas of yes, please Alpha, oh my god please, yes wash over him as he slides into Bucky’s mouth.

“Fuck, baby, this mouth,” he praises, holding Bucky’s hair back and using it as a handle to fuck deeper.

It’s so hot. So wet. His cock hits the back of Bucky’s throat and he holds it there, waiting for a gag before pulling away. He lets Bucky breath before picking up his pace— careful to alternate between hitting his throat and the inside of his cheek as Bucky relaxes his jaw, getting used to the rhythm.

Bucky tries hard to take Steve deeper and deeper, but the Alpha knows it’s in vain. He chokes as Steve holds him in place after a particularly strong thrust, and Steve can’t help groaning in pleasure as he feels Bucky’s spit drip down over his balls.

Tears gather around his eyes, and Steve shushes Bucky as he wipes them away.

“So good, Buck. So pretty for me. Take my cock so well.”

He releases Bucky, letting the Omega fall back on his heels and heave to catch his breath as he checks on Tony— only slightly irritated to find the Beta lounging across the bed, totally bare, and slowly stroking his cock.

“Just enjoying the show,” Tony quips, gesturing to where Bucky is still recovering, “should I leave you two to finish, or…?”

The question is purposely unfinished, and Steve growls.

“Your mouth is gonna get you in trouble, Beta. Get over here and finish prepping him, alright?”

Tony just laughs and moves across the room to help Bucky to his feet, dragging him over to their favorite part of the blue room— the wall length, floor to ceiling mirror that faces their “kinky sex couch,” as Tony likes to call it. He’s so gentle as he strips Bucky’s sweatpants and underwear, giving him a few kisses before coaxing the Omega back to his knees in front of the couch, keeping his back to the mirror.

Steve drops his own pants as Tony grabs the blindfold, and he decides now is a good time to check in.

“We’re going to blindfold you, Omega. Color?”

He waits as Bucky concentrates on giving him an answer, “Green, Alpha.”

“Good boy,” he praises, nodding for Tony to tie it around the back of Bucky’s head. When the blindfold is in place, Steve checks in again, “everything dark, Omega?”

“Mm yes, Alpha. Please—"

“Hush. Tony’s gonna get you on edge and plug you up, baby, but you’re not gonna come. Then I’m gonna fuck 'im, and you’re going to stay quiet— do you understand?”

“Oh my god, yes Alpha.”

Tony chuckles and Steve can’t help but smile at the eagerness behind Bucky’s words.

“Such a good boy, Buck,” Steve turns to Tony, “work him open and keep him on edge, Beta— I’ll get you ready.”

“Yeah, Alpha,”

Tony moves to kneel behind Bucky, tossing the container of lube over to Steve as all three men end up on the padded floor. Steve watches as Tony pushes on Bucky’s shoulders, guiding him to rest his chest on the ground, presenting him in his bondage.

Steve hooks his chin over Tony’s shoulder, watching the Beta’s fingers run across smooth skin, spreading Bucky’s cheeks and thumbing at his tight hole. One of his hands reaches lower— pulling Bucky’s smaller package behind his thighs, giving his cock a few strokes, before nudging his legs closed to trap everything behind him.

“Fuck, Tony that’s pretty. Look at how hard he is, poor baby.”

The Beta continues petting their Omega, earning sweet moans and cries, until he can gather enough slick to push a finger inside. He starts working open the dripping hole, and Steve decides to start on his own task.

It’s always a fun challenge to work on Tony’s hole— dry and tight as it always is. Coating a few of his fingers with the slick, he keeps his view of Bucky over Tony’s shoulder, and reaches down with both hands. His left hand grips Tony around the base of his cock, earning him a groan as the Beta’s hips flex forward into Steve’s hand. As he strokes Tony, letting his mate fuck into his fist, he slides his right hand down and circles around his rim.

“Shit, Steve. C’mon, gimme more, Alpha,” Tony begs, and Steve mouths at his neck.

“Not sure if you deserve more, sweetheart. Maybe I’ll tie you up too, make you watch as I knot our Omega, hm?”

Tony wriggles in his hold, burying his fingers deeper into Bucky’s ass as the Omega cries out, and the Beta pushes back into Steve’s lap, “You’re mean tonight, Alpha. Let’s get your dick in my ass and see how you feel after.”

Steve pushes two digits into Tony, knocking him forward into Bucky, and pushes down against his prostate.

“Fuck, Steve—“

He ignores the cry and works to get Tony prepared as fast as he can. He can feel Tony clenching and unclenching, shaking with the effort of staying still and submitting as Steve holds him down, fucking him open with two, then three fingers.

After another moment, he twists his hand around as he withdraws, and brings his palm down flat, sharp, before standing to his feet.

The slap resonates, as well as Tony’s howl, and Steve expects it when the Beta jumps to his feet, face red and fists clenched.

“You absolute—“

“— mind your place, Beta,” he growls, pushing Tony out of his face, “get our Omega ready and sit on my lap. If you’re angry, ride me like you mean it.”

Tony glares for a moment longer before turning, picking up the vibrating plug and pressing it firmly into Bucky’s dripping hole. Steve sits on the couch, angling to get a good view in the mirror, as Bucky is settled in between his legs.

While Tony gets him kneeling on a pillow, Steve gives his Omega a deep kiss, pleased when Bucky sighs into his mouth and lets Steve take. Bucky is always so responsive when his senses are limited, and Steve feels his vision narrowing— the need to take control and command overwhelming him.

There’s a hand on his shoulder, and Steve pulls back. He leans back on the couch, relaxing as he drinks in the sight and scent of his sinfully gorgeous mates surrounding him, and offers a hand to Tony.

It’s only a second before Tony is settled and wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck, but that’s not what Steve wants.

“No, Beta,” he growls, and Tony hums in question, “turn.”

Understanding flashes over Tony’s face and he smirks, flipping around to give Steve a perfect view from behind.

He strokes himself twice, coating his length with remaining slick, before lining up with Tony’s entrance.

“Oh— oh, Alpha, shit you’re so big, fuck Steve—“ Tony babbles as he sits, inch by inch, on Steve’s cock, squeezing it tight as Steve grips his hips.

Steve forces himself to sit up taller, and yes.

This is why they built the blue room.

The view in the mirror is dizzying. Over Tony’s shoulder, he can see the long length of Bucky’s back, all the way down to the plug nestled in between his cheeks. He can see the way Tony’s cock, hard and leaking, drags across Bucky’s face as he rocks back and forth on Steve’s lap. And he can see Tony’s face— screwed up tight in pleasure— as his beautiful body works Steve’s cock like it’s his job.

Oh, his mates are stunning.

“Yeah Tony, take what you want, sweetheart. Look at me… no, baby— in the mirror. Yes, oh yes, Beta, so deep and hot,” Tony groans at Steve’s talk, and the Alpha moves a hand to tip his chin down,

“Look at ‘im, Beta. Look at how hungry, fuckin’ desperate, he is for your cock. Bucky, baby, stick out your tongue— oh, fuck—”

Like a good boy, Bucky does as he’s told. Each time Tony slams back into Steve’s lap, his cock slaps down on Bucky’s lips, face, tongue. And the Omega— he chases it, whining each time he can’t catch a whole mouthful.

“Perfect Omega, oh look at your mouth, fuck,” Tony pants out, speeding up and throwing his head back onto Steve’s shoulder, “Steve, Alpha— please. I’m gonna, holy shit I’m gonna come—“

“C’mon, Tony— do it,” he growls out, pistoning his hips harder as his cock slams deeper into Tony’s hole, and slaps Tony’s hand away as he reaches for himself.

“No, Beta. Just like this— look at him, Tony. Come on his face,” he sees Bucky open his mouth further, “beg for it, Omega. Tell ‘im how much you want it, baby.”

The dam breaks, and their Omega chokes on a long string of high pitched begging, “Oh hhh Beta, please I need it so bad, please, oh god, Beta come on me, pleaa ase—"

Tony’s rhythm falters and he tightens around Steve, digging his fingernails into his thighs, and howls.

His come erupts in waves, hitting Bucky across the mouth, face, and even his hair, dripping down to land on his chest. Steve reaches forward to wring the last of Tony’s orgasm out of him, shaking the last few drops onto Bucky’s tongue as the Omega eagerly swallows them down and whispers thank you, Beta.

Tony drops, boneless, back onto Steve’s lap, and inadvertently impales himself on Steve’s cock. Both of them groan— Tony from overstimulation and Steve from denial— until Steve rolls Tony off of him to lay on the couch.

After a moment of recovery, where Steve slips Bucky’s blindfold off his eyes and whispers praises to his sweet submissive, Tony finally rolls over and blinks back into awareness.

“Damn, Alpha. One day you’re gonna kill me on your dick, I swear.”

Steve smiles, but makes an aborted move to remind the Beta of the rest of their plans.

Tony nods, “Steve, untie him while I move the couch.”

“Yes, Beta.”

Steve gets behind Bucky and starts to untie the restraints, edging Bucky firmly with one of his hands until the Omega is shaking in his arms, panting for his release. He works Bucky up two more times, denying him at the last moment, before the restraints are off and Tony has the couch moved.

Tony stands in front of them, pulling Bucky to his feet and carefully massaging his arms as the submissive sways in between them. Tony is always so sweet with Bucky, and today is no different— he presses long, chaste kisses to his lips until the Omega is giggling, squirming in their arms.

Steve lets himself be led over to the couch while keeping a steadying hand on Bucky, and is mildly impressed with how Tony situated them. He turned it about thirty degrees counterclockwise, changing the angle so that when Tony bends Bucky over the arm of the couch and Steve kneels behind him, both Alpha and Omega are in full sight of each other.

“Oh, Beta— this is perfect, damn—” Steve swears, pulling the still vibrating plug out of his mate and running the head of his cock through the slick pouring out of Bucky.

Tony smiles, lifting Bucky’s face to look into his eyes, “Alright sweet boy, Stevie’s gonna knot you and let you come, okay? And you’re gonna keep me warm in your mouth, watching Alpha the whole time in the mirror. Color?”

Both of them sigh out, “Green, Beta,” before Tony instructs,

“Gimme a taste, Steve.”

Confused, Steve looks back to his Beta, “... a taste, Beta?”

Tony laughs, leering, “He looks so sweet, Rogers— wanna give me a taste?”

Oh.

“Oh.”

Steve dips down and licks from head to hole, gathering as much of Bucky’s slick as possible on his tongue, before leaning forward and shoving all of it into Tony’s mouth. He gets a surprised grunt, and then a moan as their tongues tangle together, the Beta sucking eagerly to taste as much as possible.

Tony then leans down, holding Bucky in place as he trades a similar kiss with the Omega. Steve hears a curse from Bucky, likely in response to tasting himself in Tony’s mouth, before the Beta pulls away.

Steve is achingly hard, but waits for permission to fuck his perfect Omega.

Tony gives it, “Fuck him, Alpha,” and Steve slams into Bucky, sighing in satisfaction.

He starts at an unforgiving pace, gripping tight onto Bucky’s hips and pulling the Omega back to meet each thrust as he watches Tony slips his soft cock into Bucky’s waiting mouth.

“Watch, Alpha.” and Steve’s head shoots up— first to Tony, and then to the mirror— watching Bucky’s face as he holds Tony around the waist and takes him deep, keeps him warm. Steve feels his knot starting to expand as he drives deeper and deeper into his mate, and almost explodes on the spot when Bucky locks eyes with him.

Apparently this is too much for Bucky. His grip tightens on Tony’s waist, and the Beta looks down in alarm, and then in amusement as he sees the desperate look in Bucky’s eyes. He pulls out of Bucky’s mouth and shoves his shoulders, causing Bucky to sit up tall and then sink further onto Steve’s cock. Steve holds both of his arms back to keep him in place.

Bucky yelps, and cries out, “— Beta, please, ‘m gonna come— I can’t, please please, oh my god,”

Tony reaches out, grabs his nipples, and twists.

“Come for me, Omega.”

Steve focuses on pounding into Bucky’s prostate as he seizes up, sobbing loudly, and comes apart in one long tremor.

It’s too much. Steve thrusts in until he feels his knot catch, and sinks his teeth into Bucky’s shoulder as his orgasm sweeps through him. He’s distantly aware of the way his Omega’s hole spasms wildly, milking every drop, as he spills deep into his mate.

As they come down together, he realizes how much he adores holding his Omega close, kissing around his neck and breathing in their combined scents. His arms are wrapped around his Omega’s body, safe, and he feels Tony move them, laying horizontal across the couch. He takes care to feed them sips of water and cover them both with a blanket as they both drift off together.

For a few moments, Tony leaves the room, and Bucky snuggles closer instinctually. Both of them usually need a good amount of time to come up after a scene, so he enjoys the high he feels protecting and caring for his Omega.

Steve.

He’s so in love with his mates. He continues whispering sweet things to the perfect Omega in his arms—

“Steve.”

What?

“Hey, Steve, I’m so sorry but you have to come back up.”

“... Tony?”

“Yeah, Steve. Look at me, and eat this— we need to talk.”

Steve looks up and sees Tony kneeling, fully dressed, in front of them. He’s holding out a small plate that Steve knows contains their favorite post scene snacks.

He pulls Bucky up and into his lap, wrapping an arm around his waist to steady them as Tony helps him eat through the plate. Afterwards, he drinks a full bottle of water and Tony talks while they wait for Steve’s knot to go down.

“So, we’ve got a bit of a situation,” he starts, passing over another bottle of water, “Clint is here.”

Steve’s glad he has an Omega on his lap, or he would have fallen off the couch,

“What time is it?” he asks urgently.

“No, it’s… it’s only five, and they aren’t supposed to be here until seven, I know.”

“Okay, so what’s wrong?”

Tony looks sheepish, “He wants to talk to you—” a pause, “— alone.”

Steve looks down to where Bucky is still firmly seated in his lap and raises an eyebrow.

“I know,” Tony shakes his head, upset, “I told him you guys are knotted together—”

“— Tony, no—”

“— and he said he’s not in a rush. So bring Bucky up enough to get him settled with me, take a shower, and then go talk to him, okay? I’ll go sit with him until then— we get along, it should be fine.”

Steve nods along and watches as Tony runs from the room again. Shit. He is totally unprepared to see Clint right now.

One thing at a time.

“Bucky, baby. Sweetheart. Pretty Omega, it’s time to come up now,” he drawls, squeezing Bucky’s arms and hands to help him reorient himself.

“... S’eve? Wha’s happin’n?”

“Shh Buck, it’s okay. Just need you with me now. My knot's going down, and then you and Tony are gonna snuggle together. You hear me, baby?”

“Mmm, yes Alpha... love Tony s’much,” he’s still slurring, but when Steve looks into the mirror at their reflection, he’s met with clear blue eyes, blinking back into consciousness.

“Thank you, Bucky, love you so much.” he’s careful not to praise too heavily— Bucky needs to come back into his head, and too much praise will push him back into subspace.

Both of them gasp as Steve’s knot suddenly releases, his soft cock slipping from Bucky’s body along with a steady stream of their combined release.

He hears Bucky mumble something, and he turns the Omega to find him smiling.

“What was that, Buck?”

“Don’t I look sweet, Rogers? Wanna gimme a taste?” and Bucky loses it, throwing his head back and letting his body shake with laughter. Steve can’t help but chuckle along, leaning forward to press their lips together and swallow the sweet sounds coming out of his mate.

Bucky grabs his arms, and Steve murmurs, “I don’t think that’s really what you want, jerk,” as Bucky tries to kiss him again. Instead, Steve pulls away and grabs for the wipes, grinning at the disgusted face he gets in return.

He takes the utmost care in cleaning up the come on Bucky’s face, chest, stomach, around his groin and dripping out of his ass. There’s even some in between his toes. It always makes Bucky blush to be so intimately cared for, but for Steve, it’s his absolute favorite part of their aftercare.

As much as he loves getting his mate dirty, he’s obsessed with being the one to clean him up again.

He lifts Bucky from the couch and tucks him in the bed, pressing the call button on the side table to get Tony back in the room before he leaves Bucky’s side. With how often Bucky’s been dropping, he doesn’t want to take the risk of leaving him alone.

There’s a soft knock at the door, and Tony enters before Steve can say anything— coming right to the bed and removing layers, before climbing in to spoon Bucky from behind.

“Go on, Steve. I’ve got him.”

Steve leans forward, kissing both of his mates, before taking off for the ensuite shower.

He’s gonna need a clear head for this conversation.

---

Tony’s cleaning up their scene when he hears a knock on the door.

He looks down and swears. Neither of his mates are even close to up, and he feels horrible leaving them.

There’s a second knock, and Tony decides to see who it is before finishing with his Alpha and Omega. He pulls the blanket tight around the pair, and yanks on sweatpants and a nearby shirt before heading out of the room and to the front door.

He absently notes that he’s in Steve’s clothes. Perfect.

“Now’s not the time—” he starts, whipping open the front door, and goes still at the visitor in front of him.

“Wow, considering the horny-pack smell, I guess you’re right,” Clint Barton flashes a cocky smile, and holds out flowers and a six pack of beer, “I come in peace.”

Tony looks behind him, around the front yard, before staring at Clint in confusion,

“You’re early.”

Clint laughs, but Tony can see him fidget— nervous. Huh.

“Yeah, I know. I’m— can I come in? This shouldn’t take long.”

Tony shakes his head and crosses his arms, “I’ve got a pack to care for right now, Clint. If you’re just here to smooze my Omega—”

“I want to talk to Steve.”

Clint lowers his eyes, and Tony realizes he’s close to tears. He can relate. This younger Beta is almost as good at hiding his emotions as Tony is himself, and whatever he’s come here for is heavy enough to break through his carefully constructed walls.

He sighs, “Why? What do you need from my Alpha?”

“Nothing. I just— Peter was supposed to tell you, but I need to meet him before I let… before my pack—”

Ah, Tony understands, he’s scared.

Of course, with the conversation they had earlier and a break for their scene, Peter had not mentioned Clint’s visit. But Tony softens, regardless, and moves aside to let Clint come in. He takes the flowers and lets Clint carry the beer as they walk down the front hall and into the main living room.

Tony points for Clint to take a seat, and searches the kitchen for a vase. The flowers are purple, all purple. Delicate lavender roses, and two other, smaller blossoms that Tony doesn’t recognize. One of them looks like lavender, but the petals remind him more of lilies.

As he drops them in a vase and adds water, he asks, “What, uh, types are these?”

Clint jumps back up and walks around the counter, pushing slightly into Tony’s space.

He touches the smaller, violet flowers—

“Iris, for hope.”

Next, the taller clusters—

“Hyacinth, for regret and sorrow.”

Lastly, he strokes the roses and takes one out, handing it to Tony—

“Lavender roses, for love at first sight.”

Damn.

This Beta has game.

Tony takes the rose without hesitation, breathing it in deeply. He uses their height difference to peer up at the taller Beta through the petals and through his lashes, fluttering them a few times, and watches as Clint’s eyes widen in shock. Tony puts the flower back into the vase and steps in closer, using the counter as leverage to stand up on his toes.

He croons into Clint’s ear, “Get comfortable, hot shot. I’ll go get my Alpha for you.”

Without waiting for an answer, he swivels back and struts out of the room, residual hot spice lingering as he leaves.

Pushing back into the blue room, he almost swoons at the sight of his Alpha and Omega still sweetly intertwined on the couch. Bucky is completely out— mouthing lightly at Steve’s thumb, which, fuckin’ cute— and Steve has his eyes shut, whispering and kissing reassurances into the back of Bucky’s neck.

It pains him to wake them up, but he has to get his Alpha moving.

“Steve,” he calls, rounding the couch and crouching in front of them.

No movement, only a continued stream of unintelligible mush.

“Steve.” he tries raising his voice, hopeful when a hazy blue eye cracks open.

“Hey, Steve, I’m so sorry but you have to come back up.”

“... Tony?” his Alpha looks so adorably confused, and he tries to keep his voice calm and demanding. He reaches over to pick up a few of the snacks he had set out earlier, thankful that most of them are still cold, and chooses to try and feed him the cheese cubes first.

“Yeah, Steve. Look at me,” okay, a small reaction this time, “and eat this— we need to talk.”

He finally gets eye contact, probably due to his tone. Steve visibly reorients himself— shaking his head, squinting to focus on Tony, and then trying to sit up.

There’s a moment where Tony can tell he forgot about his dick firmly knotted into their Omega’s ass, and both men end up groaning when Steve moves too fast. Tony puts the cheese down and reaches to steady them, settling Bucky into Steve’s lap and rewrapping him in their blanket, before handing the plate to Steve as he makes grabby-hands at Tony.

Each piece Steve eats brings him into further awareness. After a half dozen are consumed, Tony wordlessly trades the cheese for Ritz crackers and carrots. His Alpha is such a dope— but, Tony has to admit, his one of the most gorgeous men on the planet.

He hands Steve a bottle of water which the Alpha drinks in one long pull, licking his lips and shifting Bucky so that the sleeping Omega is nestled into his shoulder, under his chin.

“So, we’ve got a bit of a situation,” Tony starts,

Steve’s head shoots up, staring into his eyes as Tony tries to pass him another bottle as a peace offering,

“Clint is here.”

He’s glad the bottle of water is unopened, or Bucky might have gotten a rude awakening as Steve flinches, whipping around to look at the door, grabbing wildly for his phone, and then steadying Bucky when the smaller man whimpers at his sudden movement.

“What time is it?”

Tony checks his phone quickly, “No, it’s… it’s only five,” he tries to grab Steve’s arm to calm him down, “they aren’t supposed to be here until seven, I know.”

“Okay, so what’s wrong?”

Tony definitely didn’t mean to freak his Alpha out, especially since Clint looked terrified to come over so early. Best to just give Steve the information and let him figure it out.

“He wants to talk to you—”

A confused and expectant look from Steve.

“— alone. I know— I told him you guys are knotted together—”

“— Tony, no—” Steve tries to interrupt him, but Tony has to take some control back,

“— and he said he’s not in a rush. So bring Bucky up enough to get him settled with me, take a shower, and then go talk to him, okay? I’ll go sit with him until then. We get along, it should be fine.”

Before Steve can protest his plan, he dumps the rest of the food onto the table and jogs back out of the room, hoping that Steve will use the buzzer when he needs Tony to come and take over.

Sliding into the kitchen, he sees Clint rifling through their bookcase and drinking a sparkling water. He doesn’t even seem ashamed to be caught, and continues his leisurely search.

“You guys have a ton of like, war memoirs and shit.”

“... yeah, both of my mates served. Hence—” he gestures generally at both the bookcase and the panel of medals hanging nearby.

Clint walks over to the display and looks vaguely impressed, “Damn.”

“I would say help yourself to a drink, but I see you’ve done that already.”

“Yeah, well, your spicy water is shit, Tony.”

A shocked laugh bursts out of him, “Good thing I don’t drink it then. I buy those for Bucky—”

“— really? I’m shocked he drinks something with so little sugar.”

Tony shrugs, making his way over to the coffee maker to start a pot for them later, “I think drinking them makes him feel fancy, or something,” he flips on the machine and turns back to Clint, “also— spicy water?”

Clint looks so smug as he walks away from the bookcase and back towards the kitchen, taking a seat at one of the bar stools.

“That’s what Peter calls it.”

Ohh, noo. A small pained noise comes from inside Tony’s soul as he grabs at his heart, swooning from the utter cuteness of his mate— his adorable, tiny, breathtakingly sweet Omega that calls bubbly water spicy—

Clint, the bastard, is laughing at him, still sipping the offending drink as Tony tries to keep himself from crying at the mention of his boyfriend, the cutest man to ever walk the earth.

He points an accusing finger at Clint, “You hush. I know you think it’s adorable, too. I can’t help it that I’m in lo—” woops, nope, wait, “—over my head with this perfection of a human being.”

Of course Clint heard his mistake, and scoots closer to Tony, a shit-eating grin blooming over his face, “You’re in what, Tony?”

“Nope, not yet. I didn’t say it, therefore, I will not admit to it, okay? And you— you didn’t hear anything, got it?”

The dumb Beta is laughing again and Tony decides to ignore him, grabbing a mug and filling it up with the freshly brewed coffee. He slides the cup over to Clint with a pleading look, and sees the Beta’s expression soften.

He grabs the coffee with a pat to Tony’s hand, “Hey, hey, don’t do that. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Tony stares at him for another moment, watching him for any trace of joking, before a sharp buzzer startles both of them.

“You expecting someone else?” Clint asks, looking towards the front door.

Tony’s already moving back to the blue room, “No, that’s Steve. He’ll be out in a second, okay? Just sit tight,” and runs back down the hall, leaving Clint in the kitchen.

He knocks on the door, giving Steve a warning, before walking in, gently closing the door behind himself.

His mates are separated, thank god, and have moved to the bed. Bucky is dozing underneath layers of blankets that Steve has piled on top of him, and Steve is sitting, still completely bare, on the bed and stroking his hair. He barely gives Tony a glance— so Tony strips out of the sweats and t-shirt, walking around the bed to slide in behind Bucky.

“Go on, Steve. I’ve got him.”

He wraps his arms around Bucky’s waist and holds him close, closing his eyes to the feeling of his Omega, naked and sated, warm in his arms as he barely registers Steve kissing his hair and leaving the room.

“... Tones, ‘s that you?” Bucky sounds so sleepy and soft, and Tony nuzzles in closer, inhaling his HappyContentSleepyOmega scent like the sweetest drug.

“Yeah, sweetheart. You comin’ up?” he trails his fingers down Bucky’s left side, reaching lower to cup him securely between his legs, holding the soft Omega cock and balls in one hand.

He gets a small noise in response and can’t help pulling him closer, tangling their legs together and humming into Bucky’s neck.

They stay like that for a few moments— Tony listening to their synchronized breathing and Bucky’s resting heartbeat— until a low rumbling starts beneath his hands, building in intensity, and causing Tony to close his eyes in satisfaction as he’s slowly surrounded by Bucky’s purr.

On instinct, he holds Bucky tighter, squeezing between his legs, and sinks his teeth into his Omega’s neck.

“So good for me, Bucky. Damn, I love you so much.”

Something about his praise and confession must resonate deeply with his Omega, because Bucky starts to tremble and arch back into Tony’s hold. Tony shifts, feeling Bucky firm up in his hand, but knows they shouldn’t do this so soon after a scene, while Bucky is fighting sleep and subspace.

Tony gives him one last squeeze before releasing his hold, turning Bucky on his back, and resting his head on his hand to peer down at his mate. Bucky’s face is still relaxed, eyes closed.

“Bucky, I’m gonna move you, okay?” Tony says, looking for any discomfort.

Finding none, Tony stands up, making his way to Bucky’s side of the bed. He throws the blankets off and scoops him up into a princess carry, letting Bucky curl into his chest before heading for the door.

He checks the hallway, just in case, and hurries them both to the master bedroom. Tony can hear muted voices from the living room, but knowing his Alpha, it may be another hour or so before they finish their conversation. Bucky is still purring into his chest as he makes his way across their den, and he grabs a fresh bottle of water.

Settling them into the den, Tony closes the curtains and sits up against the headboard. He pulls Bucky to rest in between his legs with their chests pressed together, content to take his weight as the Omega continues to purr.

Tony spends a while scent-marking his mate and checking for injuries. Especially around his shoulders— he makes sure to massage out any tightness remaining from the ropes earlier, scratching through his scalp and making a note to suggest Bucky grow his hair long. He loves the way the auburn curls tangle in his fingers. He knows that Steve loves tugging on them too.

For a moment, Tony thinks Bucky might be coming back up. The purring stops and he starts to wiggle, making small grunting noises. His face scrunches up and scent starts to fill with Confusion and Distress, so Tony shushes him quietly, rocking them back and forth while whispering mindless praises until he settles down again.

Sometime later— maybe a half hour, maybe longer— Tony’s jostled awake.

He immediately tightens his hold on his mate, turning them away from the threat. When he finds the source he relaxes. Steve is hovering next to them, grinning in amusement and laughing at Tony’s overreaction.

Bucky smiles up at him as well, “Strong Beta,” he teases, and Tony growls playfully, rolling them away from Steve so that he can sit on top of Bucky’s hips.

“Damn straight.”

He leans down, stealing a kiss as Steve groans and starts tugging on his arm,

“Not now, Tony. We’ve got thirty minutes to talk before our guests come over, and we need to be focused.”

He exchanges a look with Bucky before jumping off the bed, catching his briefs as Steve tosses them over. God, he smells. He checks the clock on the nightstand and hurries up.

“Steve, I don’t know if we even have time to talk, and I definitely need a shower. Are we gonna cook? What on earth should we be wearing—”

“Hush, Tony,” Steve stops his spiraling, sorting through their drawers to pick out clothes for the evening, “it’s not even six yet, and they’ll be here in an hour. I’m going to put dinner in the oven— it’s already preheated— and you two will shower. Separately,” he gives them both a stern look, “and then we’ll spend some time in Bucky’s nest until our guests get here.”

Tony nods, already walking over to grab the clothes Steve laid out for him.

“I’ll… I’ll use the shower in the blue room,” he drops a quick peck on Bucky’s cheek and accepts one from Steve before taking off down the hall.

---

Within twenty minutes they are all dressed, Steve’s mystery meal is cooking in the oven, and Bucky is crawling into his nest— inviting them inside with a bottle of wine and expensive truffles.

“I’m gonna set an alarm, Stevie, so get talkin’. What did Clint say?” Bucky reclines back, adjusting the blankets and cushions around them, and opens up the bottle of wine, drinking from the top until Steve gasps and takes it from him.

“You’re literally a child, Bucky. Grab a glass,” Steve helps pass out and pour glasses for all of them and starts to explain, “You both know that Clint has issues with Dominant Alphas, and that’s why he dropped during your first date, right?”

Both of them nod— Peter had explained it briefly to them on their second date together.

“Well… apparently he told Peter he wants to give me a chance. He explained some of his past to me, and gave me permission to tell you both.”

They recline back and open up the truffles— sipping on pink wine because, well, Bucky.

“He grew up in an intimate pack with a Dominant Alpha and Submissive Omega. His parents were both Betas in the pack, and there were four mates total. He thinks there was resentment against his parents because the pack Alpha and Omega couldn’t pup, but his mom and dad had two. His dad died when he was a kid, and he was bullied— hit and abused by his Alpha— all the way until he presented Versatile in sixth grade. At that point his Alpha tried to dominate and almost— damn, almost knotted him. He hadn’t even fully presented yet, and his fucking Alpha tried to mate him.”

Steve looks visibly sick, and Tony feels the same. Bucky makes a distressed noise and curls up closer to both of them, “Fuck, Stevie— what the hell.”

“I know, I know— I didn’t. I had no idea what to say. Apparently his mom and their pack Omega saved him just in time and brought him over to a family friend. None of his family is alive now, besides his brother, because his pack was bonded together and died when his Alpha did— drunk in a car accident.”

The silence is heavy, and Tony feels shocked. Not only did this dick-wad Alpha terrorize and hurt Clint, but he’s also the reason Clint lost his whole family. Damn. No wonder he was so hurt to find out about Steve so many weeks ago. It was probably a major slap in the face by his pack, who he thought he could trust.

“Stevie,” Bucky is wiping away tears, and looking devastated as he gets their Alpha’s attention, “is he— why did he tell you all of that?”

Steve pulls him closer, nosing through his hair, “He said he trusts Peter and wants to get to know me, because he knows Peter is going to end up with us… and he wants to end up with Peter.”

“Oh,”

“And you,” Steve cracks a smile, messing up Bucky’s hair and nudging Tony with a foot, “he said you’re a good kisser, Buck.”

“Hey!”

“You should have seen them, Alpha,” Tony says with a fake serious tone that has Bucky sputtering, “Peter had to scruff them, otherwise they would have turned the whole room into an orgy.”

Steve is laughing, and Bucky pushes him away, pouting, “You say that like you wouldn’t enjoy it.”

“Okay, okay,” their Alpha puts a stop to it before they have an opportunity to digress further, “come on, guys. Let’s figure out what to do about tonight.”

“Tonight?” Tony asks, “is he not coming now?”

“No, he— he is, I just don’t know if I should sit this one out.”

Bucky smacks him on the arm, “You’re such an idiot, Stevie.”

Tony nods in agreement, “Did he say he doesn’t want you there?”

“No, but—”

“Then what’s the issue?” Bucky sits up taller, giving Steve another push, “it sounds like Clint wants to give you a shot. The worst thing you could do is not show up for him tonight.”

“Bucky’s right,” Tony adds, “and we’re gonna be there to protect both of you, okay? Trust us?”

Steve looks down into his hands, picking at his nails and refusing to acknowledge them.

Bucky gives Tony a nudge.

Moving their wine to the side, Tony kicks his leg over Steve’s knees, settling firmly on his lap. His Alpha whips his head up, surprised, and grabs Tony’s hips. His arms come to rest around Steve’s neck, reminiscent of their position from earlier, and he scratches lightly at the short hair at the nape of his neck.

“Steve,” he starts, watching as Bucky shuffles closer and rests his head on Steve’s shoulder, “you are so strong, Alpha. You protect us and provide for us so well. But that’s not why we love you,” he jabs Steve’s chest, “we love you for your kindness, for your thoughtfulness. Steve— you are important to us because you are the best man we know. Just… give him a shot to love you too.”

There are tears in Steve’s eyes as he pulls Tony in for a hug, “Damn Tony, I love you so much, my Beta.”

“GROUP HUG,” Bucky hollers, and tackles them both to the ground, cackling wildly.

“Bucky, dammit!”

“Fuckin’ wild Omega—”

Riiiiiinng

The alarm chimes, just in time to break up their puppy pile. Tony smirks and pushes his mates off of him. He grabs the wine glasses and pops a truffle into his mouth, throwing back the rest of his drink, before crawling out of Bucky’s nest.

“Hey, Tony,” Steve’s voice calls, and Tony turns around to see his Alpha joining him on the walk to the kitchen.

“Yeah, Steve?”

Steve grabs his free hand and kisses his finger tips,

“Thank you, my Beta.”

“You deserve unconditional love, my Alpha. It’s never a hardship for us to give it to you.”

“I thought Stevie and I were bad— you guys are big ‘ol saps,” Bucky butts in, pushing past them and turning the lights out.

“C’mon idiots, I’m hungry.”

They follow him down the hall obediently, ready for whatever the night has in store.

[raspberryparker]

chocolate orange | one

Peter Parker x Fem!Omega!Reader — A/B/O Verse AU

← previous | mini-series masterlist | next → 

word count: 5,732 i’m so sorry summary: peter hasn’t presented yet so he’s blowing off some steam in the tower. there may be a lack of control on his part. maybe. warnings: see masterlist one paragraph where blood is drawn so if you’re scared of needles, please skip it; light mention of blood, obviously

read it on ao3 add yourself to my taglist! like my work? consider buying me a coffee!

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   Plaster dribbled down the wall like pebbles as the sound of the harsh impact echoed around the darkness in the room.

   His chest rose and fell rhythmically with each heavy breath he took in through his nose. They were the type of breaths that moved his whole body, his abdomen tensing as he exhaled angrily. He felt the beads of sweat along his hairline slide down the side of his face, cooling the skin of his neck before dipping below the muscle tank he wore.

   Peter didn’t remember how it had happened, but as he pulled his fist from the new hole in the wall and stretched his fingers, the tendons screaming in protest and his knuckles raw and bleeding, he wasn’t surprised.

   He felt the pain in his hand before he realized what had happened. And as he gathered his surroundings he saw where he was, what he'd done, plaster gathering like dust on the floor, and a new fist-sized hole in Tony Stark’s expensive wall.

   He blinked rapidly, shaking his hand out and looking at his palm in absolute bewilderment. The skin was angry and red, the creases more defined, and he felt the blood pumped by his thundering heart throbbing in his fingertips. Stumbling backwards on the mat, he almost fell flat on his ass as he panted heavily. 

   He’d lost control.

   Peter could hear the chain holding up the punching bag behind him creaking softly as it swayed back and forth, the thing he was supposed to be throwing punches at now forgotten. After all, he’d only come to the Tower that night to blow off some steam. But he’d let it go too far.  Peter let his thoughts stew in his mind as he railed on the punching bag before him. His fists were beginning to cramp but he’d been relentless, refusing to ease up on the jabs even though his arms ached and groaned with every reach. It had all happened so fast. He hadn’t even noticed the unbridled rage that was fuelling his every move until it was too much, seeping from his pores and pouring off him in waves of steam, before he consequently well and truly lost all control.

   He tried to focus his breathing and ease his racing heart, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing a palm to his forehead. He couldn’t go on like this.

   “You know,” the all too familiar voice chimed from behind him. “Someone’s gonna have to pay for that.”

   Peter whirled around, surprised he’d allowed someone to sneak up on him. Usually, the prickling sensation on the back of his neck would have alerted him to someone approaching but he hadn’t felt anything. Nothing other than the irrepressible fury that screamed through his veins, anyway.

   “M-Mr. Stark.” 

   The words sounded breathy, more like an exhale, as all the wind was knocked from him when he saw his idol, mentor, and the reigning Alpha in his life standing behind him with arms crossed. He’d thought he’d been careful; he’d instructed F.R.I.D.A.Y. to not inform Tony of his arrival or what he was up to, but of course, the older man always had the upper hand.

   The man in question looked far from impressed. Peter had never seen him dressed so casually, but he quickly chastised himself for being stupid enough to think that he’d be dressed formally in the middle of the night in the comfort of his own home. Tony’s arms were crossed over the old, faded Slayer t-shirt as he leaned against one of the pillars in the Training Facility, the loose jeans he wore ripped at the knees on both legs, and he was missing his usual tinted glasses. A teasing smile found its way onto his lips, but Peter didn’t seem to see it.

   “M-Mr. Stark, I’m s-so sorry,” he stammered, stooping to pick up the bits of plaster and clean up the mess. “I-I’ll take care of it, I’ll fix it myself if I have to, I promise I-”

   “Hey, hey, hey,” Tony muttered, his voice taking on a higher pitch and soft tone. He was trying to calm the panicking teen in front of him, stepping forward slowly with his hands outstretched. “I was just kidding. You know how many times someone’s punched the wall in here? I practically have the repair guy on speed dial.”

   Peter felt his breath leave his lips in a stuttering sigh, the tense posture he was maintaining easing from his frame. His shoulders fell slowly and he allowed his head to follow suit, looking down at his hands now covered in white dust and crumbly pieces of wall. He let them fall to the floor with a soft clatter. He jumped as Tony’s hands landed on his upper arms and he looked up at him with wide eyes.

   “Christ, you’re shaking like a leaf,” Tony muttered, fingers squeezing Peter’s biceps softly in an attempt to ground him. “What’s wrong, kiddo? I’ve never seen you like this.”

   “I-I just—”

   “Come on,” he said softly. Tony let one hand go and guided Peter slowly to the edge of the mat to their left. “Sit down. Take a breath. You don’t have to tell me but you do need to calm down a bit.”

   As he settled onto the mat, Tony sitting cross-legged beside him, he played with the elastic of his light grey sweatpants, the floor cold under his bare feet. He wondered why Mr. Stark was being so calm and comforting, and then quickly remembered the news stories that flooded the tabloids and entertainment channels years prior when Tony himself had struggled with anxiety. One particular public breakdown stuck out in Peter’s mind, and suddenly he felt his heart tug for his mentor, in both sorrow and thankfulness. But Tony had gotten better, and if there was anyone Peter could trust, it was him. He steeled his nerves then, taking a sharp, shaking breath through his nose. He noticed absently that Tony had unintentionally started trying to calm him with his scent, the smell of fresh laundry and pillows reminding him as much of home as Aunt May’s comforting scent did.  

   “I’m sorry,” he said softly. Tony just about rolled his eyes, but a fond smile took over his expression.

   “I told you it’s fine,” he said. “It’s a wall. It’s replaceable. But—” he poked a finger softly into Peter’s shoulder. “—you’re not. So, what’s up? There a reason you’re sticking your fist through my wall at three in the morning? And why is it so... F.R.I.D.A.Y., hit the lights, half the brightness.”

   The large room lit up around them, the dim light warming the cold atmosphere of the floor. Peter hadn’t even realized he’d forgotten to turn the lights on. He’d been so preoccupied with his goal that it completely slipped his mind. He could see Mr. Stark better now, the light revealing just how tired he looked. The dark crescents under his eyes held creases in them, and for the first time that evening (or morning, he supposed) he wondered why Tony was also awake this late.

   “I just wanted to blow off some steam,” he admitted, playing with his fingers in his lap. “There wasn’t exactly a lot to do tonight. I did my rounds but… it was too calm. And it probably sounds really bad, but I usually take out all of my feelings on those people who deserve it.”

   Tony chuckled softly next to him, his hand coming up to rest on Peter’s opposite shoulder. “It doesn’t sound as bad as you think.”

   “I guess,” Peter shrugged. He brought a hand up and scratched at his head, his hair unruly and fluffy from hours confined in the mask of his suit and from exerting himself on the equipment around him. “I just… I get so angry.”

   “Why?”

   Peter glanced up at Tony, his brows furrowed in fear.

   There was one specific reason for his frustrations, but the anxiety of looking pathetic in front of the person whom he never wanted let down stopped him from speaking. He never wanted Mr. Stark to think any less of him, and they’d been getting closer and closer and more comfortable with each other as the man continued to mentor him over the years. He didn’t want to undo it all by seeming like a helpless child. He’d just got Tony to consider him (somewhat) an adult.

   “Hey, it’s okay,” Tony said, squeezing his shoulder. “You can tell me.”

   “I…”

   Peter screwed his eyes shut, spots growing like ink blots behind his eyelids from the force of it, and took a deep breath.

   “I’m natureless.”

   When he opened his eyes again, his irises adjusted to the light and he only saw Tony blinking at him, a blank expression on his face. He panicked for a moment, wondering if he’d heard him correctly.

   “And?” Tony asked.

   “Mr. Stark,” Peter said, voice cracking. “I’m eighteen.”

   “Right, right.” Tony let his hand fall from Peter’s shoulder, looking away from his face as his brow furrowed. “When are kids supposed to present, again?”

   “Uh, between fourteen and sixteen.”

   “Oh,” he said then, glancing up. “You’re really late then.”

   “Two years,” Peter nodded.

   “But you could just be a late bloomer,” Tony said. “It’s not impossible. Why’s it got you all worked up?”

   “It’s not me,” Peter mumbled.

   “What do you mean?”

   “I’m not exactly, popular,” he snapped, his brow furrowing as he spit the words out. The Alpha raised his eyebrows, surprised at the outburst. Peter looked away sheepishly. “I’m sorry. But… I don’t have a lot of friends at school. Only Ned knows that I’m Spider-Man but I didn’t even mean for him to find out. To everyone else, I’m just a nerdy loser. And being a loser and scentless isn’t exactly a great combination.”

   He sniffled harshly, feeling his eyes sting. Peter shut his eyes, refusing to cry in front of Tony, and he wiped at his nose with the back of his hand before going on.

   “It pisses me off. But I can’t do anything about it, so instead I let loose by kicking criminals in the face. When that wasn’t an option, I came here. But I guess I lost control.”

   Tony laughed then, clapping his hands together. “Better out than in.”

   Peter allowed himself a smile at that, looking up at his mentor.

   “Well, if it’s really bothering you,” he began. “I can take you up for a visit to our resident mad scientist. He might be able to pinpoint why you’re so late. Those seven Ph.D.’s must be good for something.”

   “Dr. Banner’s here?” More importantly, he was still awake? Why was everyone in the Tower such night owls?

   “Always,” Tony smiled. “And don’t worry about bothering him. He’d probably not get to sleep around seven anyway.”

   “Okay,” Peter smiled, allowing himself to relax some as Tony stood up. “Thank you.”

   “Don’t mention it,” the Alpha muttered, ruffling his hair. “No, seriously—”

   “I know,” Peter laughed. “Don’t mention it.”

   Tony smiled then, wide and toothy as he looked down at the boy. “And go take a shower. You stink something fierce.”

   ━━━━━━━━

   The water soothed his aching muscles as he stood below the steady stream in the white tiled shower. Shutting his eyes and taking in a breath through his mouth, drops of water slipping past his lips and wetting his tongue, he rinsed the shampoo out of his hair as he allowed his mind to wander.

   His presentation hadn’t always been a concern for him. In fact, he’d been perfectly healthy. On his fourteenth birthday, May had taken him to the government regulated checkup with a pediatrician to check on his progress as all children were made to do at the age of presentation. The doctor had given him the all clear, and though it was impossible to tell one’s classification before they presented, he had said that it was most likely that Peter would turn out to be Beta or Omega.

   That thought haunted him for the next two years, even during the time he was bitten and gained his new abilities. It always bothered him.

   How he wished he’d present as a Beta. Though male Omegas were not uncommon and were more and more respected and accepted by the day, it was still hard for them within a traditionalist society. It was the same way for female Alphas, but they didn’t have it nearly as bad. Peter thought about MJ and how she’d stayed home for a month when she presented as Alpha during Sophomore year. She came back to school angry and tense, refusing to speak to anyone until her friends had reassured her that they didn’t think any less of her. In fact, the classification suited her. She brushed off the compliments, but she calmed down about it over the next few months. If Peter had presented as Omega, he might have done the same. In any case, he didn’t blame her.

   The summer before Junior year, Peter turned seventeen. He woke up that morning in early August and felt… nothing. He almost cried as he lay awake on his bed, staring at his ceiling. But he never did.

   May had been concerned, insisting she take him to see someone and bathing the apartment in the scent of a stressed out Omega, but he’d brushed her off. Assuring her that it was fine, and knowing full well that May simply didn’t have the income to accommodate a trip to the doctor, he went on with his life. But there was always that nagging thought at the back of his mind.

   If he thought that no one would notice, he’d been sadly mistaken.

   “Well, well, well,” Flash jeered at him from across the school cafeteria on the first day of school. “Penis Parker. How’d summer treat you? What’d you present as? Oh, wait.”

   Peter flinched at that, ducking his head and focusing on the carton of chocolate milk next to his tray. He noticed the anger coming through in MJ’s scent, a warning for anyone around to back off and leave them alone. That only made him sink lower. He didn’t need her to protect him.

   “So not only is Penis Parker a loser,” Flash said far too loudly, so much so that he had the attention of almost everyone in the small cafeteria. “But he’s natureless, too? I never would have guessed. Actually, it suits you, Parker. Just more proof that you’re below the rest of us. Not even an Omega.”

   “Fuck off, Flash,” MJ snarled from the other side of the table.

   “Oh yeah, get your Alpha bitch to protect you.”

   MJ moved to stand, but Ned’s hand on her arm held her back. She glanced at him and caught the look he was giving her, bristling as she settled back into her seat. She stabbed a fork into her apple and held it up lazily.

   “He’s not worth it,” she muttered. Ned nodded across from her.

   As Flash walked out of the room, he glanced over his shoulder, throwing back a final insult.

   “What a pathetic excuse for a pack.”

   As he glanced around at his friends, all grumbling into their food about what an asshole Flash was, he realized that no, it wasn’t a pathetic pack. It was the best family he could ever ask for.

   Across the table from him, Abraham and Betty, a Beta and Omega respectively, sat quietly next to Ned, cautiously looking at Peter with sorrowful eyes. Betty offered him a small smile, which he returned unenthusiastically. She poked at her mac and cheese with a plastic fork, her appetite gone from the outburst. Pushing it weakly toward Abraham, the boy took the extra food with a large grin.

   “Don’t pay attention to him,” Ned said. His brows were furrowed and his cheeks were red from the anger he felt, though he did a decent job of hiding it. “He’s just another knothead jerk.”

   As a Beta, Ned was probably the most level headed of their small pack. MJ was the Alpha, but no one kept her in check the way he did. Though he was still the giddy, comic and Star Wars obsessed boy that Peter knew in his childhood, since his presentation he’d been able to keep calm when it was the most critical. He’d presented around the same time as MJ, and they found comfort in each other when struggling to fit into their new classifications.

   And Peter was only slightly jealous.

   From beside him, a quiet voice chirped up, having been silent during the whole ordeal.

   “Yeah,” Y/N said. Peter turned to her and almost melted at the soft smile on her lips. “I know we say this every time but that only means there’s some logic behind it.”

   “Oh, definitely,” MJ agreed from the other side of the Omega, a mouthful of apple muffling her words. “But if it comes to it, I will rip off his knot.”

   “I don’t think we have to go that far,” Betty interjected with a nervous laugh.

   MJ shrugged. “Just sayin’.”

   Peter felt a hand on his shoulder and glanced over at Y/N. That same smile was still playing on her lips. He felt his heart tug longingly toward her, and he had to look away before he started blushing like a fool.

   “Thanks, guys,” he muttered.

   “We always have your back,” Y/N said.

   He wished she wouldn’t do that.

   It wasn’t even that big of a deal but almost everything she did made him fall more and more helplessly in love with her, if that was what he could call it. He didn’t even know what he felt for her; he just knew it was strong and it was persistent and it would bring him to his knees if she would do so much as ask. It consumed him almost entirely whenever they were together, and even when they were apart. He’d never been this infatuated with anyone before. He’d had his crushes, sure, but this was different.

   The word was right there at the front of his mind, but he knew that if he even thought about it, he’d lose it.

   They’d met through Betty in Sophomore year. The two girls had a U.S. History class together when she transferred to Midtown Tech in late October. He still remembered when Betty had introduced her to the group during lunch. She and Betty stood together, holding hands. She’d looked so sheepish smiling softly behind her hair. So shy. But it was normal, and it also wasn’t surprising that she was clinging to Betty so closely. A new school full of new smells and new people would make anyone anxious, but Omegas felt those emotions much more strongly than Betas or Alphas did. Seeking comfort in another Omega, Y/N opened herself up to Betty and allowed the physical closeness to calm her. And once she’d gotten accustomed to the small pack and they’d accepted her as one of their own, it was virtually unnecessary. But Peter did see them wrapped up in each other whenever one of them was stressed or anxious. It always made him smile.

   Y/N was another reason that Peter feared presenting as an Omega. Though relationships between people of the same classification weren’t unheard of, they were infinitely more complicated and painful if both parties didn’t try their absolute hardest to make it work. And he didn’t want to put her through that.

   He still saw her smile when he closed his eyes, her perfect lips and bright eyes, and still smelled the scent of berries and citrus breeze, so familiar he could almost taste it, when he thought about her. He felt guilty for feeling that way, knowing what his presentation would most likely turn out to be. He should have saved himself the pain if it did turn out the way he expected.

   But he couldn’t help it.

   She smelled like summer, and home, and—

   Peter shook his head, water from his hair spitting against the walls and the door of the shower cubicle, rubbing his eyes as he tried to rid himself of the thought. He wouldn’t allow himself to think it. That much he wouldn’t do.

   The ride up the elevator after he got dressed, his hair still wet and dripping slightly along the floor, was uncomfortable for Peter. He’d told F.R.I.D.A.Y. that Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner were expecting him, and the AI had instructed to get into the elevator. His stomach flipped, and this time it wasn’t from the speed of the car as it rose (which used to knock him off his feet but he’d since gotten used to). No, this time the weight that rested at the bottom of his abdomen was an all too familiar feeling of anxiety and fear. He was worried about what Dr. Banner would tell him; if he’d just confirm his fears that he was defective in some way. That would have been just about the last thing he needed.

  As the elevator doors slid open, for a moment Peter thought F.R.I.D.A.Y. had taken him to the wrong place. He’d thought she was taking him to the medical lab, and what lay in front of him looked far too homey to be anything as sterilized as a lab. The centre of the room was clear, but the rest of it was full of counters and tabletops with hologram charts floating above them, and the far window to his right that stretch across the entire wall overlooked the lounge and bar where Tony hosted his infamous parties. It was warm inside, and smelled like fresh baked pastries and candles. Peter could see mugs lining the counters and tables, loose stacks of files and papers weaving between them.

  The music was pounding as Peter stepped into the new environment, a heavy drum beat followed by screeching guitar riffs ringing through the room and making the vibrations in the floor run up through his feet and legs. Glancing to his right, he noticed Mr. Stark leaning against a countertop with a coffee mug in one hand and a muffin in the other, crumbs clinging to his beard. Dum-E was whirring slightly to his left, a broom in his grip and a dustpan taped to his base as he clumsily tried to sweep up the muffin crumbs that fell from Tony’s bites. He was wearing the Dunce cap again. Peter tried to suppress a smile.

   To his left, past the clearing in the room, there was a small set of stairs that led into a glass-walled room. Peter recognized it as the medbay, the white bed in the centre of it looking like something out of a futuristic movie. Actually… everything before him looked like it came out of a movie.

   Dr. Banner stood in the doorway of the medbay, his expression pinched and his hands on his hips over the white lab coat. His brow was furrowed and his mouth was moving, trying to say something to Tony but the other man was completely oblivious.

  Tony noticed Peter approaching, and smiled around the rim of his mug, leaning down to press a button on a glass tablet sitting on the surface of the desk. The music came to an abrupt halt. Dr. Banner visibly relaxed, hanging his head.

  “Thank you,” he sighed, hopping down the steps. “Finally, my head can stop pounding.”

  “It wasn’t for you, Doc,” Tony smiled. He stood up from his position and walked toward Peter. He held out the muffin. “You want some? It’s blueberry. Who knew the Doc could bake, huh? Thing’s delicious. Actually, wait, what am I saying? You can’t. Sorry, kiddo.”

  “Ah, Peter,” Dr. Banner said, walking across the lab to approach him. “Good to meet you.”

  Peter took the hand Dr. Banner held out to him, his brows furrowing at the same time as his eyes widened, a confused expression on his face. There was way too much happening around him.

  Here he was shaking hands with someone he had learned about in school. It was getting increasingly difficult to keep his cool. And now he really wanted that muffin, but was unsure why he couldn't have it.

  “It’s very nice to meet you, too, Dr. Banner,” he replied.

  A smile made its way onto the doctor’s face, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Please, just Bruce is fine.”

  “O-okay.”

  “Hope you haven’t eaten anything in a while,” Tony said as Dr. Ban—Bruce made his way to the other side of the lab. “Bruce’s gonna take your blood. I’ll give you a muffin after because, unfortunately, we’re fresh out of lollipops.”

  “He’s not a kid, Tony,” Bruce called from where he was setting up a microscope.

  Tony held his hands up in defence, the coffee almost spilling from the mug. He set it down on the nearest table and jerked his head, motioning for Peter to follow him.

  “You nervous?” Tony asked, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Peter was still following him. They crossed the room and went up the steps, entering the medbay. Now this looked more like a lab. Everything was white and smelled like lemon scented disinfectant.

  “A little,” he admitted. “But I just wanna know what’s going on.”

  “As anyone would,” Bruce said as he walked in behind them. “You can go ahead and take a seat, I’ll just be a second.”

  Peter sat on the white cushioned bed, a hologram screen beeping softly next to him. He felt like a kid again, waiting in the doctor’s office as his legs dangled over the side of the examination table. But this time it was different, and he knew it all too well.

  Bruce stood beside him wrapping a strip of something similar to velcro just above his elbow and tightening. Peter could feel it restricting the blood flow, but also saw the veins in the soft skin of the inside of his elbow protruding.

  “I’m not gonna take much,” Bruce assured him. “Just enough to run some tests. You can look away if you want.”

  Peter did. Having Bruce leaning over his arm like that, he was finally close enough to be able to tell what the doctor’s classification was. Peter finally realized where the smell of freshly baked pastry was coming from as Bruce poked his arm softly trying to find the best place to draw blood from. After all, the muffins hadn’t been that fresh. The comforting scent of a Beta was all he needed to calm down enough to allow himself to breathe through his nose and distract himself from the thought of the needle millimetres away from his skin.

  “Okay, you ready?”

  Peter nodded, shutting his eyes.

  He felt the pinch of the needle pressing into his skin and flinched, holding his breath until the pressure on his arm subsided.

  “There we go,” Bruce muttered. He removed the strip around his arm and Peter immediately felt relief flood through the limb. “You can have that muffin now.”

  “Catch.”

  As he stood from the bed, Peter caught the blueberry muffin that was thrown his way without looking up, too preoccupied with observing the redness of his arm. A minuscule drop of blood formed on his skin and Peter watched as the tiny wound sealed up within seconds. He heard Tony start the music again, but this time at a much more acceptable volume so they could still talk. Glancing around, he saw the both men had already left the medbay and were standing next to each other in front of a glass screen suspended about one of the counters.

  Peter rubbed at his elbow with his wrist, muffin still in his hand as he stepped toward them.

  “Hey, Pete,” Tony said. “You want a biology lesson from the Doc?”

 “Sure,” Peter replied, feeling giddy that a man he’d looked up to for years was about to teach him something.

  “You know how classification is determined within the body?” Bruce asked.

  Peter shook his head, peeling back the paper liner from the muffin and taking a bite from the bottom. Tony was right; it was delicious.

  “I didn’t exactly pay too much attention during that class,” he admitted sheepishly, voice muffled by the muffin. He left out the part where he admitted to sleeping through it because he hadn’t slept the night before because of his rounds. 

  “Well,” Bruce went on. He moved from the counter to the table behind it, typing something into a hologram keyboard built into the countertop and observing the monitor of the same quality above him as he spoke over his shoulder. “Everyone’s born with all three classification hormones. Even if you’re an Alpha, there’s at least a little bit of Omega and Beta hormones in there too.”

  Peter hummed, chewing thoughtfully. He knew that much. That was one of the reasons it was so hard for doctors to tell someone nature before they presented.

  “During puberty, one of those hormones starts getting produced more than the others,” Bruce went on. Turning back to them, Peter could see he’d prepared a microscope slide with a drop of his blood, sliding it into place on the lit stage and peering through the eyepiece. He spoke even as he was spinning through the lenses. “Like how girls produce a little bit of testosterone even though their main reproductive hormones are estrogen and progesterone. It’s the same principle. The classification hormones are also why growing pains include the reproductive organs. Your body’s changing to adjust to your new nature.”

  “Yeah, that makes sense,” Peter muttered, picking out a blueberry and letting the sweet dried fruit sit on his tongue.

  Bruce hummed to himself as the three of them stood in silence, the quiet music and the clicks of the microscope the only sounds in the room.

  “I gotta say, Peter,” Bruce said, looking up at him. “This is one of the most interesting blood samples I’ve ever seen. The radioactivity alone is astounding. And I think I know what’s wrong.”

  Peter felt his stomach drop again as Bruce motioned for him to follow to the largest screen in the room. He left the rest of his muffin uneaten, suddenly lacking an appetite. Bruce tapped on a glass tablet similar to the one Tony was playing his music from before the screen lit up with floating words and numbers and graphs.

   “Usually this would take a really long time, but we’ve got the equipment to give us quick results,” Bruce said.

   “Thanks to whom?” Tony asked mockingly as he came to stand behind Peter.

   Bruce rolled his eyes and went on. “You do have the three classification hormones, there’s nothing to worry about on that front.”

   Peter sighed in relief, allowing his shoulders to relax as he watched Bruce focus in on one particular bar graph.

   “It’s the levels of those hormones that are throwing me off, though,” he said. “You went to the checkup when you were fourteen, right?”

   “Yeah,” Peter replied. “They said… they said I’d be either Beta or Omega.”

   “Well, they were right.”

   He knew it was coming. He knew what Bruce was about to tell him but it didn’t stop the drying of his throat and mouth as he struggled to breathe. He swallowed thickly, looking up at Bruce and seeing the concerned expression on his face.

   “From what I can tell,” he said. “You were supposed to be an Omega.”

   And there it was. Out in the open for the world to see. Peter looked down at the glass on the surface of the table, feeling dejected for a reason he could not understand. He knew deep down, and for a long while, what he was supposed to be. But denial is a funny thing, when it's strong enough, that is. One particular thought nudged at the back of his mind as he took in Bruce's words, the tang of orange peel bitter on his tongue as his favourite scent enveloped him. This time, however, it was not welcome. The last thing he wanted was to think of her right now.

   “How old were you when the spider bit you?”

   Peter almost didn’t hear him, too entrenched in his own thoughts. The hand on his shoulder shook him from his trance. He felt Tony's fingers squeeze him softly.

   “I-I’m sorry?”

   “How old were you when you got your powers?” Bruce repeated.

   “Uh,” Peter mumbled, trying to think back. “About fourteen.”

   “So I was right,” Bruce smiled.

   Peter frowned, confused once again. Bruce gave him a reassuring look and pointed to one of the bars on the graph.

   “This is your Omega hormone level. And this,” he said, pointing to the bar next to it that was just about the same height. “Is your Alpha hormone level.”

   “M-my what?” Peter stammered.

   “Yeah,” Bruce smiled. “That little tiny one is your Beta level. I think it’s safe to say you won’t be a Beta. But I had theorized that it had something to do with your abilities and I think I may have been right.”

   “What do you mean?” Peter asked, a scared expression on his face.

   “It’s nothing bad, don’t worry,” Bruce grinned. “In fact it’s fascinating. Think about it,” he said and held his hands up, gesturing as he explained. “Your abilities, what are they? Enhanced strength, speed, agility, senses, reaction time, and ability to fight, among others. Now, what classification do those sound like they would belong to?”

   “Alpha.” The word dropped from Peter’s lips as almost a whisper, and he glanced back up at the graph as he began to understand where Bruce was going with his explanation.

   “Exactly. My theory is that even though you were set to present as Omega, as soon as you got bit something clicked—” he snapped, and Peter jumped slightly. “—and your body panicked. It went into overdrive, producing more and more Alpha hormone to try to accommodate your newfound powers and characteristics that are more suited for an Alpha. At this point, it’s too hard to tell what you’ll present as. It’s pretty fifty-fifty. But I have to say, you would be a rather strange Omega. Hopefully, your scale tips the other way, for Spider-Man’s sake.”

   “Yeah,” Peter muttered, Tony’s hand still firm on his shoulder. "I hope so too.”

━━━━━━━━

A/N: i blame my friends for encouraging me. i know a/b/o isn’t everyone’s thing but it’s my guilty pleasure and so i had to indulge. this idea has been stewing in my head forever. don’t hate me please. my sexual preferences are showing, aren’t they? also the lab is based on the one in aou which i just watched so

part two and three are coming out tomorrow and the day after! 

read it on ao3 add yourself to my taglist! like my work? consider buying me a coffee!

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