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unsettledink · 4 years ago

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Made For It

Exchange fic for the 2020 Marvel Holidays Secret Santa, hosted by @iloveyou3thousand

My recip was livvibee - Fingers crossed this works for you! I took your ‘anything goes’ and... went with it. Hopefully in a direction that you’re okay with!

Made For It

Word Count: 8100

Summary: Tony has never had the patience to deal with alphas. Too bad that his son just presented as one. But there's no way Tony is ever going to let Peter know how upsetting that is; his kid is still mostly perfect.

It is too bad, right?

(ABO, peter’s 15, also is tony’s bio child, heats/ruts, knotting, dirty talk, referencing mpreg, very dead dove, please heed the warnings)

Link to AO3 at the end

Tony has never had the patience to deal with alphas.

Honestly, he just can’t stand them. Always acting like they know best, don’t worry your pretty little omega head about it. Pushing their way into everything, trying to take over and dismiss Tony as unessential for anything of actual importance.

Fuck them. Just because Tony’s an omega doesn’t mean he can just be handled like that, doesn’t mean he’s going to put up with it. Being an omega doesn’t mean he wants to be under someone’s thumb like that, and is sure as hell doesn’t mean he needs an alpha.

There isn’t an alpha out there that actually knows what’s best for him.

Even for Peter— sure, he’d needed an alpha’s sperm for his kid, but he had the resources to go for artificial insemination. The take rate for male omegas is awful, but Tony’s never relied on luck. He has JARVIS.

Is it strange to have his AI pick out the best possible candidate for Tony’s baby? Maybe. Is it invasive for JARVIS to consider any alpha, whether or not they’ve actually donated? Probably, but the winner had been more than happy enough to provide a sample once Tony had thrown enough money at him, and Tony hadn’t even had to meet him. Had even been willing to sign away all their rights as a mate and a parent for a little extra.

Does it result in Tony taking on the very first try? Absolutely, and that makes it worth every single penny. Because he gets Peter out of it, gets his wonder, perfect kid. Smart and sweet and stubborn (you take after me so much, Tony’s started telling him when they fight, and it generally makes them both grin). Tony couldn’t ask for a better kid in any way, and he loves Peter more than anything in the world.

And then Peter turns fifteen; presents a few months later, earlier than most of his yearmates.

As an alpha.

The first Tony knows of it is when he comes home and smelled… something off. Something viscerally wrong, disgusting. Something that only got worse when he went into the living room and found Peter hunched over on the couch, a little ball of misery.

“Peter?” Tony says. He’s still supposed to be in school and Tony doesn’t think he got a call about Peter being sent home. “What’s wrong?”

Peter looks up, red eyed, upset. “I’m sorry,” he says, offering up a piece of paper. “I— it happened at school and the nurse ran the test and it’s— I’m—”

Tony doesn’t need him to say it; he knows what the red header on the test results means. Knows what that smell is now, knows why he feels on edge in his own home. Peter’s an alpha. Peter’s—

Peter’s shaking. “Dad,” he says, “I didn’t— I didn’t mean to! I don’t want to be an alpha! I’m sorry!” He bursts into tears and fuck, it doesn’t matter how awful Peter smells now, Tony can’t just let his baby cry all alone like that.

“Oh kiddo, no,” Tony says, kneeling inf ront of Peter and grabbing his hands. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“But you hate alphas!” Peter wails. “You hate them so much and now I’m one and— I’m sorry, please Dad, I’m so sorry.”

Fuck, fuck. “I don’t hate you, sweetheart. I could never hate you.” He tugs Peter closer, Peter clinging, sobbing against his shoulder. “It’s not your fault, I know that. I know you didn’t want this, but… it’ll be okay in the end, I promise. You’re going to be okay.”

It’s rough at first.

After Peter gets through the first stage of his presentation, his scent settles. Grows, into that thick, bitter, sweet scent that clings to the back of Tony’s tongue. It’s awful, and Tony can’t escape it; it’s everywhere in the house, and all over Peter, over everything he touches.

Peter can’t help it. He knows this, and he’s not going to make his son take blockers just because Tony has a— a thing about alphas. He’ll get used to it. He’d told Peter it wasn’t his fault and it’d be okay, and he’s going to do his damndest to make Peter believe it.

He’s never going to let Peter know how unpleasant it’s become to even be in the same room as him, much less it next to him, or to hug him and kiss his forehead and treat him just like Tony always has, because Peter is taking this badly. He’s distressingly fragile about this, and Tony’s worried. It’s his own fault, with the way he’s talked about alphas all of Peter’s life, but he’d never thought— well, it doesn’t matter now. He’s just got to try and fix some of the damage he’s done.

It’s not Peter’s fault he’s not quite so perfect anymore.

So, it’s rough at first, but slowly, things ease. Slowly, Peter’s first rush of scent dies down, mellowing into something not quite as awful. Starts to take the influence of Tony’s, softening a little, becoming more familiar. Not nearly as comfortable to be around as he used to be, but still something Tony finds easier to tolerate.

Slowly, Peter becomes more comfortable with his secondary gender, and Tony— Tony works hard not to think of Peter like that. To not apply those stereotypes—are they, Tony wonders, if they’ve been born out every time he’s dealt with an alpha—to Peter. He loves Peter, and he’s never going to stop loving Peter, no matter he’s become.

And then Tony has a heat.

Tony doesn’t even think about it; it’s never been a problem before. When Peter was younger, Tony would send him for a long weekend at Uncle Rhodey’s and grit his teeth and suffer through it. Sometimes he broke, when the heat aids weren’t enough and he was so desperate he couldn’t stand it. Would hire a heat companion, the lowest rated alpha they could find, one willing to shut up and take orders.

The need quiets as he gets older, thank god, and it got to the point where he could nearly ignore them. Could just spend a few hours knotting himself once Peter had gone to bed and keep going the rest of the time. Maybe a little more irritable, a little tired, a little achy, but just fine, and Peter knew by then you just be a little more forgiving for those few days. A little kinder, even.

Had actually been really good about it the last few years. Been cute, actually; had put on Tony’s favorite shows, had tried to cook things Tony especially liked (or order things he did, when the cooking failed spectacularly a few times. He definitely got that from Tony.), had practically bullied him into using the jacuzzi when Tony complained too much once about hurting all over and getting old. Had just… attempted to pamper him a little bit, adorably.

Tony won’t lie; he’s never let an alpha do that for him. He hadn’t wanted to give them ideas. But it’s always been fine for Peter to do it, and it’s been a little comforting. Peter’s just a good kid.

But this time—

This time, his heat hits him harder than usual, all the aches and pains and itchy, burning want that he’d thought he’d mostly left behind. This time, when Peter came home from school, Tony knew without seeing him, hearing him. He knew, because the second Peter walked in—

He didn’t smell terrible anymore.

Fuck, he smelled good, so good, insansely good. The best thing Tony’s ever smelled, and that base part of his brain wants to just bask in it, cover himself in it. Tony freezes in the doorway of the kitchen; he doesn’t even remember getting here.

He stares at Peter and Peter stares right back, eyes wide and darkening, his scent rising in response to a heat.

Tony swallows, hard. “Peter,” he says. “I think you should go spend a couple days at Ned’s. Or Rhodey’s, or— or even Nat. Just. Not here.”

Peter blinks at him, slowly. “I don’t have to,” he says.

Yes, yes he does. “I want you to,” Tony says, and he knows it’s going to hurt Peter; there it is, that little flinch. Anything he can do to get Peter out of the house is going to be worth it, though, because this— this is not supposed to happen. His body is not supposed to recognize his fucking son as a good potential mate.

“Are you sure?” Peter asks, stepping forward, and Tony shudders, his scent deepening, spreading. Suffocating.

“Please,” Tony croaks, and Peter nods. Practically flees, and Tony has the horrible realization that Peter might have felt something of the same.

It’s not a good heat.

Things get a little awkward.

They avoid talking about it, completely, but… well. Tony isn’t going to stop having heats, after all. And Peter— Peter is stubborn. So stubborn, like Tony doesn’t know where he got it from, like Tony hasn’t encouraged it.

Peter loves him and hates to see him hurting. So the next time, when Tony tells him to go— Peter squares his shoulders and says no.

“Last time,” Peter says, “I came home and you’d barely eaten. You slept for almost the whole day after and you looked awful and you smelled—” he stumbles to a halt, blushes. “You smelled wrong,” he says after a deep breath. “Like you were sick. It— it scared me, Dad. I don’t want to leave you alone like that.”

“I don’t have to be alone,” Tony says. “I can— I can hire a companion.”

Peter frowns, staring down at the floor. Crosses his arms. “You’d hate that,” he says, very small.

Yeah, Tony would. Has, in the past. It’s better than the alternative though.

“Please,” Peter says.

“I just don’t know if it’s a good idea, kiddo,” is the most he can manage without— without saying something heading into dangerous ground.

“It’s not a problem for most people,” Peter mutters, and Tony doesn’t want to be the one to point out that apparently, they aren’t most people.

He caves.

It’s an even rougher heat. Oh sure, this time he doesn’t spend the entire time curled up in bed, frantically fucking himself with the largest knot he has and still feeling empty and desperate and abandoned, barely dragging himself to eat or clean up a few times, feeling sick, feverish, the whole time. And Peter’s downright annoying about attempting to take care of him, bringing him food and pestering him about not hiding away the whole time and making Tony take care of himself some more, even if it’s mostly to avoid the shame of Peter seeing him like this.

But it’s torture, having Peter in the house. It’s torture, having what his brain seems to think is the perfect mate right there and not available, not doing anything. Having to tell himself over and over, in the worst of his heat when he can barely think straight anyway, that he can’t have this alpha. He can’t have Peter. Can’t have his son, fuck.

This is one of the many, many reasons Tony hates alphas. Because they do this bullshit to him, fuck with his head and make him want things, make it so hard to control himself. Make him consider things he never would.

He wouldn’t.

This is why he hates alphas, Tony thinks, the heat after that, Peter insisting that it had been fine last time so he’s staying again. This is why, he repeats in his head, making himself wait until Peter’s gone to bed before he fucks himself with his newest aid, larger than all the others, with all the bells and whistles to make it seem like a real alpha’s knot.

This is fucking why, he tells himself as he comes again and again and again, clenching around it and muffling everything coming out of his mouth in the pillow; because they make him do this, want this. Makes it so easy, so good, to imagine Peter fucking him, knotting him, filling him up and biting him, god, fuck. Makes him moan Peter into his bedding; whisper, hopeless, desperate, please, Peter please, need you.

Because they make him not himself.

But he’s not going to stop having heats, so he has to— has to just find a way to deal with this, a way that leaves him able to still look Peter in the eye after his heat’s passed. They’re not going to stop.

Worse, so much worse, Peter starts having ruts.

The first one— the first one, Tony hadn’t even smelled. The first one had been an almost instant slide from normal—Peter a little testy and distracted but normal—to full rut, Peter’s scent sharpening, deepening, flooding over Tony strong enough to make his knees go weak, send him sagging against the counter. Peter’s staring at him when Tony looks over, a little glazed, heavy and intent like Tony is some sort of prey, and it’s horrifying to see that expression on his kid’s face.

Tony freezes, not wanting to set Peter off in any way, and Peter closes his eyes. Inhales, long and deep, scenting Tony, Jesus Christ.

Opens his eyes, and there’s a flicker, a moment where he seems to realize what is happening, what he’s doing. Freezes too, and then—

Runs.

He’s gone before Tony has a chance to move, a chance to even call after him, slamming out of the house without taking a single thing with him. Tony sits, shakily, and has a little breakdown.

He doesn’t know how they’re going to manage this now. What the hell they’re going to do. Fuck, what Peter’s going to feel, when his rut is over.

Rhodey calls a few hours later, just to let him know Peter’s with him, safe and incredibly upset. “He won’t tell me anything,” Rhodey says as Tony clutches his phone, “but… well, he’s in rut, Tony. It’s probably his first, right?” Tony manages a noise that sounds like affirmation. “Right. I’m sure that’s it; they say it’s rough the first time. He can stay until it’s over. He’ll be fine; don’t worry, Tones.”

Too late.

If he thought things were awkward after his heats, they’re so much more fucking awkward when Peter comes back two days later, rut scent gone. His normal scent nearly scrubbed as well, buried beneath heavily scented soap and— Tony sniffs, carefully, once Peter’s turned his back. His scent is so muted, metallic tinged, just off— he took a blocker. He took a fucking blocker so his scent wouldn’t bother Tony as much.

Tony’s heart nearly breaks. “Peter,” he says. “Baby. Come here a minute.”

Peter’s wary when he walks over, ashamed. Stops, a little too far away. “No,” Tony says, and opens his arms. “Come here.”

“Are you sure?” Peter says, so quiet, and Tony’s heart does break, completely.

“Oh, kiddo,” he says. “Yes, yes, I’m sure,” and he clings to Peter just as tightly as Peter clings to him. It feels like he hasn’t properly hugged Peter in months.

“I’m sorry,” Peter whispers. “I’m so sorry, Dad, I don’t know what happened. I don’t know why but I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Tony tells him. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault. We’re going to be okay.” He ducks his head, brushing his mouth right over Peter’s scent point. “I don’t want you to take scent blockers,” he says. “They’re not good for you, and you’re not— you don’t need to, Peter. I’m going to be fine without them.”

“I don’t want it to bother you,” Peter says, and Tony shakes his head.

“It doesn’t. It won’t,” he promises. “You’re more important to me than any of that.”

He doesn’t know how he gets through his next couple of heats.

Peter stays, and stays, and Tony gets used to his scent there, during them. He starts thinking—

You’re not supposed to be ashamed of anything you think during heat, whatever it is, however wrong it is. Everyone knows it turns omegas into someone they aren’t normally, that those things don’t count as real wants. Still, Tony doesn’t think h should ever admit that what he’s started thinking about during his last few heats isn’t just Peter, inside him and under him and filling him up.

It’s Peter, how Peter— Peter wouldn’t be one of those alphas, would he. Peter’s stubborn and a little pushy sometimes, but he’d never try to take over, never think he’s better than Tony. Never try to push him, manipulate him into doing something he didn’t want. Wouldn’t try to mate him or breed him without Tony’s permission, and would never use him like a mindless fucktoy, a stupid little omega slut.

No; Peter would be such a soft alpha, so willing and careful with Tony, so easy to control, to direct. So good at taking direction.

Peter would be—could be—the perfect alpha for Tony. He’d barely need any training to be exactly what Tony wants; after all, he already loves Tony. He already wants Tony. It’s like this is what he was born to be.

It’s awful, but Tony’s still thinking it during his heats. Is still thinking it outside of his heats, day to day, watching Peter and seeing all the ways in which Peter would be perfect. He already smells like Tony. He already knows exactly what Tony likes. Knows how difficult Tony can be and isn’t bothered by it. And he’s gorgeous, he’s so fucking gorgeous, so tempting.

He thinks Peter’s watching him a little too.

There’s something wrong about contact between them now. There shouldn’t be, but when they’re curled up together, watching TV; when Peter slides up behind him and hugs him; when Tony leans against his side when he corrects Peter’s work— those touches are off, are too much, too charged. Heavy with a kind of intent that does not belong there.

Peter doesn’t leave during his next rut. Just stays in his bedroom most of the time, and Tony’s on edge the whole first day despite himself. When Peter emerges every now and then, he follows every move Tony makes, unmistakably hungry.

Tony should feel hunted, should feel angry and horrified the way he had been the first time Peter looked at him like that.

Oh, he doesn’t. Stares back at Peter on the second day, challenging. What, that stare says. You want something? Gonna do something about it?

Peter ducks back into his room and hides, but his scent is thicker, coating the inside of Tony’s lungs. He’s not handling this as well as Tony’s managed his heats with Peter in the house.

Not nearly as good at keeping quiet when he moans Tony’s name either.

The last day— the last day, Tony wakes up and feels sore, heavy. Lies there and thinks, sluggishly, a little too hot, that he really wants to curl up and waste the day on some TV marathon. Really wants to—

Fuck, he thinks a second later. Oh, fuck; this is… not great.

Peter’s in the hall when Tony comes out of his bedroom. Close, like he was lurking, drawn in by the scent of Tony’s heat, and the scent of Peter, of Peter still in rut, hits Tony so hard he shudders. God, he wants.

“Dad,” Peter says, his voice low, rough. “Dad, this—”

“I know,” Tony says, cutting him off. “I’ll just— I’ll visit Natasha for a few days.”

“No,” and Peter walks—fucking stalks—toward him. Backs him up against the wall, his hands on either side of Tony, trapping him. Tony feels frozen. “I don’t want you to go.”

“That’s just your rut talking,” Tony says. “That’s all.”

Peter shakes his head, slow. “No,” he says. “I’ve heard you, Dad. I know what you want when you’re in heat. I could give it to you.”

Tony swallows, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He should be afraid, he thinks, distantly. He should be worried about what this alpha might do, might try and take, now that he’s got Tony nearly pinned, but— he doesn’t fear Peter. Never will. There’s just… heat, a sharp screaming hunger riding up in him.

“I’ve heard you too, kiddo,” Tony says.

“Dad,” Peter moans, swaying closer, nearly touching him. “Dad, please, please, I want— I know you don’t want an alpha, I know, but I’d be so good. I’d be so, so good for you, I promise.”

It’s too much, too much, and Tony has held out too long. Has stopped being able to beat himself up enough for the things he’s been thinking, for what he wants. “I know,” he says. “I know you’d be so good. Fuck, Peter; you’d be perfect, wouldn’t you. You’d be every last thing I’ve ever wanted in an alpha.”

Peter closes his eyes, letting out a long, shuddering breath. “Let me,” he says, his voice so rough they’re barely words.

Tony doesn’t even bother to think. “Yes.”

He gets a growl from Peter for that, gets Peter pressing closer and kissing him, his hands all over Tony. Tony hooks his hand around the back of Peter’s neck and pulls him in, holds him there and kisses him deeper, again and again and again.

“Peter,” he says once Peter’s pulled back a little. “Not here, kiddo. I’m not up for getting knotted anywhere but bed anymore.” Peter moans; yeah, he thought that might catch his attention. He’s still like all alphas in some ways.

“Why did I even bother getting dressed,” Tony mutters, walking Peter back into his bedroom, shoving him toward the bed.

Peter’s still watching him, so intently, but a tiny little smile creeps onto his face anyway. “So I could undress you?” he says, and fuck, he’s going to be cute about this. Of course he is; it’s Peter.

He kisses Peter, hands up under his shirt. “Better get on with it then,” Tony says.

Oh, he’s seen Peter naked plenty of times, across all ages, and he’s sure Peter’s seen him naked a few times too. But this is completely different; this time, they’re looking. This time, they’re touching, and it’s so good, it’s everything Tony’s been wanting for months now, the contact he needs to settle his heat a little.

They fumble their way onto the bed, tangled up on their sides, Tony’s hand sliding down to Peter’s cock as they kiss, and he loves the way Peter’s breath catches. Peter’s hand curls over Tony’s side, spreads across the curve of his ass, and then hesitates. He presses his fingers down and slips them a little lower, a little closer to Tony’s hole.

“Dad,” Peter says, “can— can I, uh. Before I—” He cuts off with a groan, and it’s adorable. “Oh my god, I’m going to be terrible at this.”

Tony nips at Peter’s lip, at the edge of his chin, teasing. Playful. “You’re going to be perfect,” he says. “And yes. Whatever it is, yes.”

“Fuck,” Peter whispers, and then he’s rubbing his fingers along the cleft of Tony’s ass, right over his hole, spreading around the slick that’s already leakingout. Presses one in slowly, watching Tony, and sure, Tony doesn’t need it but it still feels good to finally have some part of Peter in him. He’s still early enough in his heat that he can let Peter have this without immediately needing more.

He scrapes his teeth over Peter’s neck, getting a shiver from Peter. “Gonna open me up for your knot?” Tony says, and Peter whimpers. “Come on, kiddo, you can get more than that in there.”

Peter listens, pushing a second finger in so easily, and Tony loves how quick Peter is to obey; how easily, thoughtlessly he does. He’s not going to really challenge Tony in any of this. Is more likely than not going to let him take the lead—ask him to, even—just like he does anytime he runs into something new. He always brings those things to Tony, like he’s certain dad will know what to do.

His slick is running down Peter’s wrist by the time he’s given in and gone for three, Tony grinding back onto them, his hand slow on Peter’s cock, mouth slow against Peter’s. So sue him if he’s a little distracted.

“I’m going to need more than that,” Tony says. Pushes Peter over and straddles him, and the way Peter stares up at him is fucking addictive. The way Peter moans when Tony rubs his ass over Peter’s cock, when Tony slides down onto it, is even better.

“Oh fuck,” Peter breathes out. “Dad, you feel so good I can’t even believe it.”

“Feel pretty good yourself, alpha,” and Peter’s fingers dig into his thighs, hard. “You like that, huh?” Peter bites his lip. “Like having an omega all to yourself?”

“Yes,” Peter whispers, and Tony— he was so sure Peter would be good for him, but—

“Do you feel it?” he asks, quieter. “There in the back of your head, looking at me and seeing an omega?” Peter’s breath catches, and Tony settles down on him, grinding slowly.

“Does it make you want things?” Tony murmurs. “Make you want to just… get me under you, get me pinned and fuck me, make me beg for you knot? Make you want to get your mouth on me, make me bleed and bond me and break me in? Is that what you want, alpha?”

He hopes not, but he has to know before he ends up caught, has to know if the mistake he’s making is just that Peter is his son. Just, he thinks, fuck, just.

Peter’s staring at him, his hands painfully tight and that dazed, heavy look gone. “No,” Peter whispers. “Dad— no, I don’t. I don’t want— am I going to? Is that what— is that all I can do?” his voice rising, anxious.

“Oh baby, no,” Tony says, leaning down and kissing him. “Of course not.” Peter’s hands ease on him, and he draws in a shaking breath.

“Good,” he says. “I want— I want other things, not that. I just— I didn’t know, I’ve never—”

“I know,” Tony says. “Aren’t you lucky, getting me for all these firsts.” He raises his ass, starting to ride Peter slow, far slower than he really wants to. “So what do you want, sweetheart?”

Peter shakes his head, without words as twitches under Tony. It’s like getting Peter’s cock in him sets Tony off, brings all that want, that need from his heat back front and center, taking over his brain. “How about this,” Tony says. “This is what you want,” as he fucks down onto Peter, clenches around him. “You want that, want to feel me so tight all around your knot, don’t you,” and Peter groans, his hips jerking up, meeting Tony. “Want to feel me keeping you there, stuck with me.”

He gets a hand on his cock and Peter’s eyes snap to it, his mouth gaping open as he stares. “You want to be caught by me; you know it’s true,” Tony says. “Want to know I wanted you when I’ve never looked at another alpha.”

“Oh god,” Peter says, “yes, yes, you can catch me, Dad,” and it should sound like the cheesy line it is, like an alpha teasing, pretending they’d hold true to it when they’d been caught good and hard.

It doesn’t.

Tony’s suddenly desperate for Peter’s knot, the need for it sinking into him and spreading; he presses his hands against Peter’s chest and starts riding him fast and hard, just like he’s wanted to for months. “God, Peter,” he says. “Want you in me, want you to knot me up good.”

“Dad,” Peter whines, “you can’t say that, fuck.”

“No?” Tony says. “I think I can say whatever I want and you’ll love it. And what I want is for you to fill me up, lock so tight not a single drop of come could get past. Come on, kid; show me you can be as good as you promised.”

Peter’s gasping, flushed bright red and thrusting up into Tony frantically. “Gonna,” he manages, and he’s got that glazed, heavy lidded look again, sinking deeper into rut, into the mindless animal hunger of it.

“Look at you,” Tony says. “Is that all it takes, huh? Telling you how much I want you swelling inside me, stretching me out? All you need to turn into this needy rutting beast?” Peter moans, his fingers leaving bruises on Tony, fucking him hard. “You’re such a slut for an omega hole, aren’t you,” and it’s fucking perfect; he can feel the first swell against his ass, the barest bump of a knot starting.

“Tell me, baby,” Tony asks, “is it better that we’re who we are?”Peter’s staring up at him, hanging on Tony’s every word; Tony leans closer, wants to be sure Peter can hear him over the loud, messy sounds of them fucking. “Do you like it more, knowing you’re going to knot your dad? Gonna come in your dad, breed him?” and he doesn’t need Peter to say anything, not with the way his knot is growing, still sliding in and out of Tony but there’s a little force to it now.

“I mean, who could possibly know you better,” Tony says. “Or is it more than that, hmm? Do you like knowing that you came from me? Came out of me right where you’re about to come in me?”

Peter jerks so hard, his knot really getting with it now, barely slipping out of him on the next stroke. “Dad,” he gasps.

“You were always meant for this,” Tony tells him, starting to pant himself. “Meant from the start to be so desperate for me, so needy, just begging for an omega to fuck, to milk you dry,” and it hurts when Peter tries to pull out that time, his knot hitting the point where they’re already stuck together; Peter could come like this—Tony could let him—but it’s not good enough, would just be a waste to have a loose knotting.

“I didn’t even know it,” Tony says, “but I made you to be so fucking filthy, so perverted. I picked the best donor for you, wanted you to be the best you possible could, but you’re even better.” It almost catches, Peter humping against him the limited amount he can, whining pitifully; Tony leans down, pulling on the knot a little, till his face is right over Peter’s. “You need this,” he says, Peter nodding immediately. “Need to be caught so badly, baby. You’re going to wind up being one of those alphas they talk about, that just can’t get enough, can’t ever get enough of being in an omega. It’s going to be so easy to make you knot me again and again, as many times as I want.”

He laughs suddenly, nearly dizzy with the possibilities that just opened in his mind. Kisses Peter hard, biting his lip. “Think you’ll knock me up?” Tony whispers, pulling back just enough to see Peter’s eyes, wide and dark, shocked. Wanting. “Gonna give me a grandkid to spoil rotten?”

The sound Peter makes at that is incoherent, but the way his knot sinks further into Tony says enough. “Like the thought of that, do you?” Tony says. “Guess we’ll have to keep trying till it works.”

He feels it catch, feels it swell inside him, fucking huge, god. Peter’s got the most perfect alpha cock, the best Tony’s ever had. “That’s it,” he gasps, “fuck, that’s it, kid. Just like that, oh god, you’ve got such a good knot, so hard, ugh!” Feels it twitch as Peter starts to come, as Peter jerks under him, sinking even deeper, settling in and shooting off in Tony. Some distant part of Tony nearly hums with satisfaction. It’s a tight lock, a good breeding; Peter’s going to seed him easily like this.

That shouldn’t be appealing at all, but it really fucking is, Tony’s cock throbbing in his hand; a few more strokes, another little thought about Peter’s pup, their pup, the best of all possible choices, growing in him, and he’s coming, clenching down hard around Peter’s knot.

When he sinks down, ass pulling wonderfully at Peter’s knot, Peter wraps his arms around him. Kisses him, slow, messy, pretty fucking out of it, but to be fair, so is Tony. He closes his eyes, shoving his nose into Peter’s neck, mouth over his scent point. Licks at it and Peter moans, turning his own face into the same spot on Tony's neck, breathing hot and humid against it, and Tony wouldn’t say no if Peter bit down right now.

He won’t because that’s just… not how Peter is, but Tony wouldn’t say no.

Tony squirms on Peter's knot every now and then, unable to help it, needing to remind himself how good it feels, how tight it’s settled. Peter moans every time, clinging tighter.

“Still okay?” Tony says softly, and Peter tilts his head back, looking at him.

“Yeah,” Peter says, a little slurred, but it looks like he’s hitting a lull in his rut. “I needed you so much, Dad. Wanted you so much. The way you smelled— I was losing my mind. How could I even look at anyone else when you were there?”

He’s tracing his fingers over Tony's back, slow, mindless circles. “I know you don’t want an alpha,” he says, quieter. “I won’t be all like, super alpha though, I promise.”

“You’re not an alpha,” Tony tells him. “You’re my alpha.”

“Fuck,” Peter murmurs, shivering. “Please— I can be your alpha. I can. I will.”

“You will,” Tony says, meaning it, making that commitment without a second thought. “You’re a dream come true, Peter. Perfect, so perfect for me, like no one else ever could be. You’re already mine, already made from me.”

Peter moans, pressing his face harder into Tony's shoulder.

They stay like that, drifting a little; it’s a hell of a catch, Peter’s knot not shifting in him even a bit, not shrinking at all. Tony wonders how long it’ll stay. If it’ll be this tight every time.

He hopes so. Of course his son would do this well too.

It lasts and lasts, and— and Tony’s slipping back into heat, Peter’s knot still just as caught in him as before. God, this is going to be a wild heat.

“You said,” Tony starts, Peter stirring slightly, “said you’d heard me.” He drags his nails down Peter’s side, slowly, just feeling how he presses up into it. “So were you making sure I heard you? Doing it on purpose?”

“Um,” Peter says. “I— maybe. A little. I mean, I— I didn’t want you to know? I felt so bad about it. But I still… really wanted you to know. Really wanted you to—”

“Wanted me to what?” Tony says, propping himself up a little so he can look at Peter. It might be nearly torture for Peter, but Tony can still get off like this, listening to Peter’s dirty little fantasies. Can still come all over Peter and all around his knot. “What were you thinking when you jacked off and came calling my name?”

“Ohmigod, Dad,” Peter mutters.

Tony snorts. “Little late to be embarrassed, kiddo.” Twists, clenching at the same time, and Peter groans as his knot gets all that movement. “I wanna hear; entertain me, baby.”

Peter wrinkles his nose, but his arms stay tight around Tony. “I— I was thinking about you—” He takes a deep breath, turning until his face is tucked against Tony’s neck. “Was thinking about you fucking me,” he says, just a little muffled, and that was not quite what Tony was expecting.

“Yeah?” he says.

“Yeah,” Peter mumbles. “You— you’d tell me I hadn’t earned the right to knot you yet. That I’d have to work at it, show you how good I could be.”

“Fuck, Peter,” Tony says, squeezing his cock. “How were you supposed to show me that, hmm?”

Peter seems to realize what Tony’s doing then, tucking his head in more and looking down. Reaches down a second later, his fingers brushing over Tony’s, over his cock. “All kinds of ways,” Peter says, wrapping his hand around Tony’s, pressing their fingers between each other’s, slowly stroking Tony’s, using their hands together. “Anything I could think of, Dad. Letting you fuck me anywhere you wanted, any way; blowing you, or sometimes you’d just fuck my face and come all over it,” and Tony groans, hips jerking into their hands and pulling at Peter’s knot in the samemovement.

“I’d think— I’d think about you tying me up on the bed, to it, telling me alphas couldn’t be trusted,” Peter says, hand moving faster, tighter. “Telling me you’d help me learn, that maybe if I did well enough, you’d ride me like that, still tied up, after you came in me.”

“Jesus,” and it feels so good, this dual sensation, Peter all over him, in him. “You’ve got a filthy mind, baby.” He nips the underside of Peter’s chin, licks it, just barely, and he doesn’t know if Peter will even understand what that means. “I like it, Tony says. “After all, I know where you got it from.”

Peter huffs out this strangled laugh, his hand tightening around Tony’s cock. Moves faster as he starts talking again, Tony thrusting into it, closer by the moment. “You wouldn’t let me knot you even then,” Peter says. “You’d pull off as soon as I was almost there and make me come like that, play with my knot after until I felt like I was going to cry or pass out or something,” and he probably would. An alpha’s knot is so sensitive, not meant for anything but the warm, soft inside of an omega.

Tony shudders. “Next time,” he tells Peter, “next time, sweetheart. When—oh, fuck—when I’m not in heat, when I can give you the full attention you should get.” He pants, rocking against Peter, clenching tight around him. “I’ll make you knot like that when I’m not in heat, because you haven't earned that yet, have you. God, I can’t fucking wait, wanna see what you’ve got in me.”

He’s close, so close, Peter breathing heavy against his neck. “I should— Peter, baby, please.”

“Should what,” Peter whispers.

“Should get you like that,” Tony says, his eyes closing, right on the edge. “Get your knot popped and then compare you to some of my aids. See what you’re closest too and fuck you with that one.”

“Fuck,” Peter says, shaky. “I— I know I’m bigger than most, you’d have to— I don’t know if I could take one that big,” and Tony’s coming, squirming on Peter’s cock and twitching in Peter’s hand.

Peter’s knot might have gone down a bit, he thinks as he lies on Peter, his brain most static and white noise. Just a few things, circling round and round— wait.

“Bigger than most?” Tony says. “How would you know, huh? You haven’t even seen the size of what I get in me.”

It’s cute how Peter blushes, avoiding his gaze like he can pretend Tony isn’t there while he’s literally stuck on Peter’s cock. “Uh, I—” He squeezes his eyes shut, the rest coming out in a rush of words. “I snuck in once and found them and maybe played with them a little and that’s how I know.”

“You— you little perv,” Tony says, but it’s delighted. “Shit, Peter. That’s— I wanna say I can’t believe it, but boy can I. So what, you borrowed them for a bit? Or did you get off in my room and do your little comparison there?”

“Ahhh,” Peter moans, so embarrassed, but he brought this on himself. “It— it was when you went off to that conference overnight.”

“So it was in my bed.”

“Maybe,” Peter says. “But, uh. Yeah. I did that, so I do know that I’m bigger than all of them except the new one, so—”

“Wait,” Tony cuts in. “Wait wait wait. New one? New one? Peter Benjamin Stark, that was not a one time experiment, was it.” Peter’s got his face hidden, an arm thrown over it like that’s any actual protection. “How else would you know that any of them are new, hmmm? Unless you just happened to see what was there before I got it and after.”

He pushes at Peter’s arm until he can see one eye; waits. Peter opens it, eventually, squinting at him. “You sneaky slut,” Tony says. “You went back for more, didn’t you. How many times?”

Peter shakes his head, his face flaming red. “Too many,” he mumbles.

Tony opens his mouth, about to demand more details, when Peter’s knot slips. He shudders, feeling it get smaller by the second, sliding out of him and leaving him feeling empty. “Ugh,” he groans, and clings to Peter a little, Peter gasping sharply.

Oh, he feels gross, god. A hot shower sounds amazing, but that would require standing, and walking, and just in general moving and all of that sounds awful. He sighs against Peter’s collarbone. “So which one was your favorite?”

“What?”

He nips Peter, lightly, but Peter still jumps. “Which heat aid?” he says. “I know you probably tried them all.”

“They— uh, I— it’s—” It’s almost painful to listen to like this; Tony takes pity on him.

“I just wanted to find out which one I should use, when I get you knotted on one while you’re still caught in me. That’s all, baby,” Tony says. Grins. “But I can just pick one, if that’s easier.” Peter makes a helpless little sound. “How about the one that expands?” Tony asks. “Or— what about the one with a tube; I could fill it up and make it squirt in you. Could lick it back out of you after, even. What do you think?”

“Daaaaad,” Peter whines. “You— I can’t— oh god, whatever you want, please.”

Tony laughs at him. “You really are a slut for this,” he says, tilting his head up and kissing Peter. “Love you, kiddo.”

“I’d like any of it,” Peter says. “Anything you wanted from me. Anything at all; I love you too, Dad, so much.”

“I know,” Tony says. God, he knows. This— if Peter hadn’t loved him, maybe he might have been able to hold out longer.

If Peter hadn’t loved him, this would have gone so much worse. He sure as hell wouldn’t be kissing Peter right now, warm and soft. Wouldn’t be nipping at Peter’s scent point, teasing, pestering him until Peter huffs and squirms away. Wouldn’t have Peter following when Tony rolls off him, flops over again onto his stomach, face buried in his arms. Stretches a little, and Peter’s hands are on him, stroking down his side, over his head. Peter’s mouth is on him, trailing kisses across his shoulders, lingering for a moment at Tony’s scent point, darting out his tongue to taste it.

Peter’s hand wanders lower, practically groping at Tony’s ass. Not that Tony can blame him for being tempted, but there’s something— he’s not sure it’s entirely sane, the wave of humor that hits him at the thought of it. Maybe just a little hysterical, he decides, and he’s going to blame that completely on his heat. It’s always made him overreact.

“Dad?”

“Mmm?”

“Can— would it be okay—”

“Peter,” Tony says. “I told you. Yes. Whatever it is, yes. Carte blanche, kiddo.”

Peter huffs. Mutters to himself, something Tony can’t quite make out, and then, at the end, “Fine.”

Fine what, Tony wonders. Peter’s hands are on his ass, spread across each cheek and pulling him open as Peter shifts on the bed, settling between Tony’s legs; maybe that was it, maybe Peter wanted to look.

Or not, oh, god, Tony jerking as Peter licks up the cleft of his ass, stopping right before Tony’s hole. Pulls back and licks another line up, a little to the side of that, and it takes Tony entirely too long to realize Peter’s licking up the come that’s dripped down Tony’s ass. Can he be blamed, really, for being a little distracted by the wet, soft heat of his son’s tongue there, of all places?

“Fuck,” Tony gasps. “What the hell, baby, what—”

Peter pulls back, his breath hot against Tony’s skin when he answers. “I was going to ask,” Peter says, just a little sharp. “But noooo—”

“I’m not regretting that,” Tony says. “Just— Jesus, kid!” as Peter presses his mouth against Tony’s hole, licking at it.

He doesn’t bother with words after that. It’s easier, better, to focus on the feel of Peter’s tongue against his skin, all along his rim and inside, firm and soft and wetter by the second as Tony starts slicking up again; he doesn’t know if Peter’s going to be able to keep up with it.

So much better to dig his head and his knees into the bed and push up into Peter’s touch, into his mouth. Peter lets him, waits until Tony’s settled in and then keeps him there, his arms hooked around Tony’s thighs, hands on his ass. Buries his face as deep as he can and laps at Tony, eager and fucking hungry. Tony can feel every touch, every breath, every moan Peter makes, and he’s getting pretty noisy himself. “God, Peter,” Tony manages at one point, “where the hell did you learn this?”

Peter barely pulls back enough to answer. “Didn’t,” he says. “I just— wanted to.” Dives back in and Tony groans.

“You’re filthy, that’s what you are,” Tony tells him. “Fucking nasty, baby. Of course you’re a natural at this, you— oh fuck, right there, kiddo, right— yeah, keep it up.” He’s not sure if he can come from this—hell, if he can even come again so soon—but he’s going to try.

“It’s— it’s just ingrained in you, isn’t it,” Tony says. “Down to your bones, buried so deep, that you’re a slut,” and Peter moans into Tony’s skin. “Such a slut, such a good fucking slut, hungry for slick; you’re a disgrace of an alpha, you know that?”

That gets him a huff, and then a hand on his cock. Tony almost tells him no, almost insists on testing this, but it feels so good and he just wants to come. He’s past caring how, just— “Come on kid,” Tony gasps, “come on, show me what you can do.”

Peter keeps licking after Tony’s come, lighter, softer, but still going even when Tony starts squirming, too sensitive and worn out. “Peter,” he whines. “Baby, ugh, stoppit. I know you’re a slut for slick but enough.”

There’s one more broad, long swipe of Peter’s tongue and then he’s pulling back. “It’s not my fault you taste good,” Peter says, and Tony laughs.

Turns a little to look over his shoulder at Peter and doesn’t regret it; Peter’s face is red, his lips even redder, wetness smeared all over his mouth and chin and cheeks. Spit or slick or come, it doesn’t matter. “You think it tastes good because it tastes like you?” he asks, idly, watching Peter lick his lips.

“What,” Peter says, staring down at Tony’s sill spread open ass. “Because it’s my come I’m eating out of you?”

Tony snorts and Peter gives him a confused look. “No, dumbass,” Tony says, Peter scowling, “because you’re half me. More than half, technically.”

Peter rolls his eyes, actually rolls his eyes, god. “Or maybe you just taste good, Dad,” he says, wiping the back of his hand over his chin.

“Well, come on,” Tony says. Crooks his finger at Peter when he frowns. “Let me have a taste, then.”

Peter’s mouth drops open, and then he’s crawling up over Tony, making things difficult as Tony tries to turn over at the same time. Kisses him, pressing his tongue into Tony’s mouth, and honestly, Tony doesn’t care what any of it tastes like. Just wants this, Peter’s lips on his.

“You know,” Peter says when he pulls away. “You’re kind of a slut too, Dad,” and the laugh slips out of Tony before he even thinks about it.

“Guess it just runs in our genes,” he tells Peter.

“Yeah,” Peter says, nuzzling up to him. “I guess I had to get it from somewhere.”

“Guess you did,” Tony says, and— maybe no one will ever understand, but this was the right choice. Peter was the right choice, was the alpha he’s been holding out for all this time.

Of course he’d ended up carrying the perfect alpha for himself. This was always meant to be.

“Love you, baby,” Tony tells him, soft, almost a whisper against Peter’s skin.

“Love you, Dad,” Peter whispers back, and that’s what really matters, isn’t it.

AO3

#starker #DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT #heed the tags #abo #bottom!Tony #top!peter #alpha!peter #omega!tony #my work #fanfiction #ironspider #tony x peter #peter x tony #tony stark x peter parker #mcu #spiderman #marvel #iron man

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ceratonia-siliqua · 4 years ago

Text

Sweeter Than Sugar (Ch 3)

Collab fic with @send-me-your-hcs

Summary: Tony is a man of refinement. Only the best, the highest quality specimens get added to his collection. Peter, a beautiful and very rare male omega, quickly becomes his favorite of all his pets. The perfect omega deserves an equally-perfect alpha. (Or: An a/b/o au where pet owner!Tony forcibly mates Peter and Bucky together for his own enjoyment.)

Warnings: Underage, noncon, a/b/o au, dark!Tony, confinement, forced pet play dynamics, forced mating/in heat cycles, minor violence, forced daddy kink, forced feminization, gang r/ape, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

ao3 link

. . .

Bucky knows something is going down the moment he enters his kennel, Tony can tell.

He hasn’t had to use the reinforced steel stockade in years, not since Bucky was still new to him. Bucky is anxious and wary as Tony secures him tightly on his knees, his neck and wrists bound, rendering him immobile. “Don’t worry, my love,” he reassures gently. “Your omega’s been a naughty little boy, but once his punishment is over, we can all move on. You know Daddy’s very forgiving. I’ll forgive Peter too, just as soon as he asks for it.”

Bucky’s beautiful steel-blue eyes fixate on the bruise marring Tony’s cheek. He gently runs his fingers through the alpha’s long, silky hair as he pops the mouth guard gag past Bucky’s lips, keeping his sharp canines safely tucked away from their guests and his frightening, bone-chilling growls as stifled as possible.

With Bucky properly restrained, Tony heads back upstairs and enters Peter’s cell for the first time since the incident this morning. Peter looks at him long enough to see he’s come alone, then turns back to his filthy blankets, snubbing him. Tony almost smirks to himself as he walks over, head held high, and stops in front of the large round bed.

“Do you want to see your alpha, baby?” he asks. The sound of his voice shouldn’t startle Peter, but somehow it does.

Peter doesn’t look at him. His face is pressed to one of his messy pillows, but he nods, dejectedly.

“Very well,” Tony says. He snaps his fingers and points to his feet, his universal sign of come here. “The sooner you get over here, the sooner you’ll get to see him.”

The boy reminds him of a sullen, sulky child as he drags his limp body to the edge of the bed and onto the floor. He keeps his head down, a dog who knows he’s displeased his master, and waits for Tony to grab him by his leash, deceivingly meek and obedient.

“Turn around, baby. Show me that pretty little hole before it gets ruined again.”

A scarlet blush covers Peter’s face, neck and chest as he obeys, turning and pressing his forehead to the floor, ass up and trembling. His ass has finally returned to a more natural state, baby pink instead of deep red, tight and modestly damp instead of gaping open and pouring come and slick. It’s a bit of an illusion, though - when Tony presses his thumb against the puckered skin, it gives immediately, stretching smooth and straight and opening up for him in that beautiful way only omega holes can. It’s like pressing a button to switch between an asshole and a cunt; untouched, it’s a hole no different from anyone else’s, but as soon as the slightest stimulation comes along, it blooms like a flower in the sun, opens up hungrily and greedily, transforming before his very eyes.

Entranced, Tony fingers the boy’s delectable little pussy as he slips another, albeit weaker heat inducer inside of him. Peter won’t need any detailed stretching or preparation - not this time around - so he plays with the little omega’s broken-in fuckhole purely for indulgence’s sake. By the time Peter’s rim is turning dark red, puffy and starting to leak, the pill has taken effect and the poor thing is whining uncontrollably into the marble floor.

Tony’s tempted to make him crawl all the way downstairs, sobbing and shaking and leaking like a broken faucet, but he’d never risk skinning his princess’s poor sensitive knees. He unhooks Peter’s chain from the wall, gathers his small, trembling body in his arms, and carries him all the way to Bucky’s cell like the compassionate, generous owner that he is.

It’s a chorus of joy and suffering the moment they step inside. A gorgeous melody of pleading cries, muffled shouts, moans, groans, whimpers, whines. Peter flails trying to get to his alpha - Bucky does his damned best to wrench the stockade from its base inlaid in the concrete slab, but it holds firm. Peter is absolutely adorable as he reaches for Bucky with both hands, crying out, “Alpha, alpha…!” Like if he calls urgently enough, Bucky will shatter his restraints and come to him.

His little pets are so fucking cute.

But now is not the time to indulge them. A lesson needs to be learned here, first and foremost. Emotionlessly, Tony chains Peter to the opposite wall, shortening the leash so the feisty little omega can’t quite reach his alpha at the other end of the long room. While the two scramble trying to get to each other, Tony rolls in one of his breeding benches, parks and secures it in the center of the room, and hoists Peter’s flailing body onto it.

Oh, the little omega puts up quite a struggle then. Tony presses Peter’s body over the arch in the bench, his stomach flat on the plush leather, arms folded behind his back, legs spread, ass up to expose his leaking pussy. Bucky gets the best view in the house - restrained on his knees with Peter’s gorgeous fuckhole staring him in the face. If Tony rolled the bench closer and removed the gag, Bucky would be at the perfect height to eat the little pup out.

The thought intrigues him. Maybe after, he thinks.

He tests each cuff on Peter’s neck, thighs, wrists and ankles to ensure he’s secured, then gives the bench a hard shove to make sure the wheels are locked, properly holding the contraption still so it won’t slide everywhere in the middle of the action.

With everything ready, he supposes this is the perfect time to lecture his ornery little omega, circling Peter’s bound body as he clasps his hands behind his back.

“Peter,” he says firmly, earning himself a fearful, hateful glare from those big brown eyes. “I know you’re smart enough to understand the concept of corrective discipline. I’m about to teach you a very important lesson - everything you have, everything you have been given, including your bond with your new mate and all of the pleasure it’s brought you - they are all gifts from me.”

He steps closer, stares down at that beautiful, angry little face.

“You may not like it, you can hate this place all you want, but it doesn’t change the fact that you are mine, Peter, and the sooner you come to terms with that, the better off you’ll be.” He gestures to Bucky, kneeling behind the boy, head bowed in defeat. “I would like nothing more than to keep you and your mate happily tangled together all day long. But this morning, you chose to throw my kindness and generosity back in my face and behaved, simply put, like an animal. So, this is a moment I want you to remember the next time you’re feeling angry or hard-done by: I don’t have to give you any of these luxuries. I can - and will - replace them with much less favorable conditions if you misbehave. Hopefully, the harshness of this punishment will help this lesson stick in your tender little brain.”

He pets the boy’s head gently, then circles around him to address Bucky. “As for you, Bucky, my wonderful boy - perhaps take the opportunity to educate your omega the next time I’m kind enough to leave you two together. He chose to step out of line and brought this punishment down on both of you. If you don’t want it to happen again, I suggest you have a long and thorough chat with him about who’s in charge around here.” He strokes Bucky’s stubble-covered cheek. Bucky’s conflicted, despaired gaze is turned away from him, as good of a sign of submission as any.

Perfectly on time, Tony’s phone dings in his pocket then, alerting him that his honored guests have arrived.

He kisses Bucky’s forehead, pats Peter’s trembling flank, and heads for the lobby to greet their visitors.

—

He gets himself a nice chair for the show.

It’s not nearly as comfortable as his armchair upstairs, but it’s good enough. He reclines in the corner, feet propped up on Bucky’s table between the alpha’s food and water dishes, crossed at the ankle as he lounges comfortably. His guests are standing throughout the room, but each of them knows better than to stand in front of him, obstructing his view. Most stand against the glass wall, in front of Peter’s hysteric, sobbing face, as far away from Bucky’s enraged fury as they can get.

He’s chosen some of the best men he knows. Betas, like him, who lean more to the above-average side of the spectrum when it comes to things like height, weight and cock size. None of them can compare to the sheer massive size of an alpha, but that’s almost the point of this punishment.

Oh, how little Peter screams and fights when the first beta mounts him.

It must be so confusing. His little cunt, dripping with slick, begging to be filled, to be fucked and knotted - only to be given a too-small, too-thin, unsatisfactory beta cock. Some mated omegas have claimed that the semen of anyone apart from their alpha’s burns when it’s pumped inside them, which hasn’t been properly tested or proven, but Tony is tempted to believe it after watching Peter squeal and thrash when the first man creampies him.

And yet, oh, the poor little thing’s hips are moving so desperately. His heat has fully taken hold of him, now - compelling him to be bred, to seek out and attract his mate by any means necessary. With Bucky kneeling so close behind him, close enough to smell and hear, Peter’s body seems to be wonderfully confused. He rides each beta cock that’s humped inside of him like he needs their come to live, then jerks and sobs when he finally gets what his needy little body is after.

It’s a beautiful sight.

Bucky clearly doesn’t agree. Snarling like an aggressive dog, Tony doesn’t blame his guests for quailing away from the bound beast. Frothy spit drips from the alpha’s chin as he does his best to bare his teeth with the mouth guard gagging his lips open. The stockade makes loud, thundering bangs every time he tries to dislodge it from its base, desperate to tear the beta in front of him away from his omega and rip him in half like a Christmas cracker. He’s unsuccessful, of course - Tony built that stockade to withstand an alpha even larger than Thor - but it’s intimidating all the same.

After the third beta has had his turn, Peter goes limp on his bench. He whines pitifully as the fourth man mounts him, sliding inside easily, stirring the mess of come and slick inside of his fuckhole with his dick. Peter, as unwilling as he is, can’t stop himself from moaning and rolling his hips in tandem with the beta’s, trying to make the man’s cock fill him deeper, wider, fuller. Tony smiles at the desperate way Peter is bouncing his hips. It must be maddening, to be fucked over and over again by a series of eager cocks not biologically designed to satisfy you.

Slick and beta come glob onto the floor as Peter desperately rides the man standing behind him. Bucky howls through his gag like he’s being castrated, vicious and frantic to get to his mate and breed him properly. Tony grins at the desperate struggling his gorgeous alpha is still putting up. It makes him rise to his feet almost subconsciously, not sparing the breeding bench a glance as he walks around it and approaches the stockade.

Bucky knows better than to lunge for him. Still, his thrashing increases tenfold when he thinks his Daddy might be crouching behind him to undo his restraints. Tony loves how basic, how single-minded heats and ruts make his pets become, how they reduce them to their most primitive selves. Like this, Bucky can’t even fathom why Tony wouldn’t free him and allow him to defend and claim his mate. Without a doubt, all thoughts of lessons and punishments have been pushed far from the alpha’s mind. He’s a beast, like this. A pitiful, powerless beast.

He grunts and snarls when Tony cups his huge, distended balls. Rigid, swollen and heavy with fresh come, they hang dark and tight between Bucky’s legs, nearly touching the floor. Tony gently massages them, watching the alpha’s massive cock bob and leak precome from the stimulation. Poor thing. He truly doesn’t deserve to be tormented like this, but Tony can only hope he uses this pain as motivation in helping him train and tame Peter.

As five betas becomes six and then seven, Tony stays crouched behind Bucky, gently working his balls with the palms of his hands to provide some relief for his aching, anguished alpha. Peter’s pitiful cries fill the room, louder than the pleasured groans of the men filling him, louder even than Bucky’s muffled screams of rage.

That’s why Tony is able to hear it so clearly when his baby sobs, “I’m - I’m sorry, D...Daddy, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry.” Sobbing so hard, the words shatter like glass as they leave his damp lips. “Daddy I’m sorry, please forgive me, p-please, Daddy!” Tony stands, almost leaping to grab the beta still humping away wantonly at his princess’s backside and fling him off without a care.

“Baby,” he soothes instantly, stroking Peter’s trembling flank to try and settle his wailing sobs. “Oh, sweetheart, my little princess, hush now. You’re all right.” He leans in, kisses the omega’s quivering back, stroking his sweat-matted hair. “It’s all right now, sweet boy. Daddy forgives you.”

Impatiently, Tony snaps his fingers, dismissing the men without so much as looking at them. As the last one files out, the door automatically locking behind him, Tony undoes Peter’s cuffs but leaves him bent over the bench, hanging there limply, as he once more crouches beside Bucky. He removes the gag, opens Bucky’s restraints, and is quick to jerk back as Bucky surges upwards and descends on Peter with pure animal desperation.

And still, Tony’s wonderful boy is human enough to gather his tiny mate in his arms and carry him over to his bed, crowding him against the dull greys of his bedding as he slots himself between Peter’s spread legs and pumps his cock inside of him. Peter mewls gratefully, arms iron-tight around Bucky’s neck, his trembling legs trying to cling to Bucky’s wide waist, their chests pressed flush together as Bucky sinks his teeth into Peter’s mating bite, sinks his cock into Peter’s well-fucked cunt.

Smiling, Tony returns to the proper side of the glass, leaving the pair to their own devices - or as close as he’s willing to allow them to come to it. He watches for the better part of an hour as Bucky breeds, grooms, gentles and then breeds Peter once again, repeating the process over and over, making sure to pay special attention each time he licks up the mess leaking from his omega’s abused hole, as if the beast cannot rest until every drop of beta come has been cleaned from Peter’s body.

—

The utter lack of sleep his boys have had in the last 24 hours shows when they pass out towards their fifth round. They’d been up talking and fucking the whole night before, and neither had slept a second since their separation this morning. It was bound to happen.

Bucky has rolled onto his side, one of the only (formerly) clean blankets pulled over the two of them. Peter’s face is pressed into the barely-there space between the alpha’s bicep - of which he’s laying his head on - and one of those meaty pecs. They’re chest to chest, and by the way Peter shifts every now and again (and the leg clearly thrown across that broad waist), still firmly connected via knot. Bucky’s other arm is wrapped firmly around Peter’s waist, his nose tucked into the sticky, matted curls of his omega. Only the alpha’s feet peak out from under the blanket, Peter too small to reach that far down under a clearly alpha-sized blanket.

Given that the pair aren’t doing much, Tony decides to attend to a few things. His boys need a bath, badly, but that can wait. Instead, he goes upstairs to Peter’s kennel. Entering with a laundry hamper and gloves, he begins stripping Peter’s bed of all its baby blankets and fluffy pillows. Thankfully, Peter isn’t one to revenge pee. He’s had a few pets who had taken up the hobby. Still, it’s a sticky, come-drenched mess, and dried come isn’t his idea of a good moisturizer.

Usually, a team of professionals come through once a week and clean all the kennels, replacing the bedding, tending to the bathrooms, and grooming some of his other pets. His favorites…well, they tend to get a little more special attention from Daddy. He loves keeping his alphas’ hair long and some level of beard on them. It accentuates the masculinity of already hyper-masculine beings. Trimming and tending to the hairy alphas is a small indulgence of his. The only exception to the hair-loving rule is their balls.

Regularly, his boys receive a waxing. Steve actually had been calm enough for lasering and no longer needs them. Thor enjoys the attention enough to hold still through the tugs, and Tony always gets a nice show of Thor leaning down to clean his now-smooth pair nearly every time. Bucky is…rough at times. His balls are so large, the process takes just a bit longer and it can never be done soft. The waxer tends to always be concerned about too much loose skin if Bucky isn’t hard while getting the service. Tony had never seen Bucky’s skin ever be loose enough to worry much, but now with Peter, he’s beginning to understand it. With Peter’s body to hold all of his come for him, the alpha’s balls have started to show more wrinkles and gentle sagging. Tony’s surprised with himself for finding it appealing, after his love for those balls filled with come has bordered on obsession for a few years now.

Either way, those smooth balls on their hairy bodies is truly a lovely juxtaposition, and his omegas seem to enjoy sucking on them far more without bristly little hairs poking at their face and tongue.

With the bedding now packed away, he lugs it to the laundry shoot to be cleaned. Peter will need spares soon, but his baby is so often cold in the night, all the blankets meant to be extras have made their way onto the bed. His princess loves all things soft and plush, so to deny him any of those things when it’s just so fitting for such a delicate omega, it’s inconceivable, even for him.

The hardest clean-up job will be the pair themselves. As much as he loves seeing them both soiled and rolling in each other’s slick and come, Peter is beginning to look matted and ill-kept, unbefitting of a princess. Maybe Bucky can get away with the look, with his brutish build and gruff disposition, but he is officially mated to Peter and thus now has some upkeep to maintain.

He can’t but help smile to himself a little at the thought. He really does adore the pair. Bucky may have always been a bit of a bull in a china shop, but seeing this soft and irresistibly sweet side to a pet he already loved has pulled Bucky up to a level similar to Peter in his mind.

Wanting to be back with the pair, he wanders down to the basement, watches from behind the pane of glass as he usually does, but with the two sleeping and his hands itching to touch, he slips inside. JARVIS enabled, he goes over to Bucky, letting the tap of his shoes be softly audible so as not to startle the large creature resting on the bed. Bucky isn’t prone to attacking him, not for a long time, but he knows better than to sneak up on him. That is the unspoken agreement between them; so long as Bucky knows Tony is the one there, he won’t make a move to hurt him.

The sound has its desired effect. Bucky raises his head slowly to see who’s coming. Seeing Tony, he rests his head back against the large, spacious pillows that had been one of his birthday presents last year.

Hands wandering across Bucky’s back and up to his shoulder, he leans in close to speak softly to the alpha, not wanting to wake Peter.

“How are you feeling, love? Any pain?” Rubs a thumb along the still slightly red line across the back of Bucky’s neck from banging against his restraints.

“No, Daddy. Just…tired.” Bucky doesn’t make eye contact, but does tilt his head towards Tony, a movement meant to show submission whilst clearly paying attention.

Tony can’t resist kissing up the side of Bucky’s face, working one of those massive shoulders under his hand. “Daddy’s not mad at you, okay Buck? You’ve been such a good boy for me. Not mad at Peter either now; he just needs to settle in and you need to help him with that. Sound doable?”

Bucky nods, eyes darting towards the bite mark. Craning his neck up, Bucky carefully licks at the wound, a clear apology on behalf of his mate, despite the one he had accepted earlier from the boy himself. Tony leans into it. JARVIS would have done something if this was an aggressive move. Years have given the AI the ability to read Bucky’s intentions like a book. Plus, Bucky is transferring some of that sweetness onto Daddy, and he’s greedy for it now that he knows it exists.

He pulls away once the man finishes. He strokes Bucky’s hair, pushing it back and admiring the stunning man beneath his hands. Those steel-blue eyes never fail to drag him under, they were the first thing he fell in love with in his pet. They scream intelligence and speak to a being who feels deeply, even if it’s hidden behind layers of brutal ability and aggression.

Sliding a hand down Bucky’s arm, he touches Peter, letting Bucky see and feel where he’s going with the motion to prevent any sudden, protective moves. Thankfully, it works - Bucky only tightens his grip a little bit on Peter, but refrains from intervening, knowing that Peter is Daddy’s first, even if instinct scream out against it.

Peter’s skin is damn near buttery in just how supple it is under his fingers. He rounds the bed, putting himself where Bucky can see as he runs greedy hands over the boy. It wakes Peter up, but with the punishment still fresh in his mind, he merely curls into Bucky’s arms and gets his fill.

“Petey.” The omega flinches, even as Tony’s tone remains even and soft. “How are you feeling, princess?”

A soft sniffle nearly breaks his heart. Bucky shushes and pulls Peter tight, rocking his hips gently to provide some sort of comfort. Maybe a grounding sensation? He hasn’t had a mated pair like these two, a lot of things are assumptions for the time being.

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay. You’ve got Bucky here, and Daddy just wants to make sure you’re not hurting. We won’t do that ever again as long as you don’t go trying to make Daddy hurt again.” He rubs his back, the knobs of Peter’s spine reminding him that the boy hasn’t eaten since yesterday.

Bucky manages to shove his face next to Peter’s, licking up the tears leaking from his tiny mate’s swollen eyes. Being close up now, his pet looks terrible. The betas had been under strict rules not to hurt the defenseless boy, but the bruise on his cheek has Tony feeling terrible. It’s not a dark one, but still a clear sign that he’s raised a hand against the omega. Peter shouldn’t have lashed out, but it’s Tony’s job to be above lashing out in return. Apologizing is not an option. Peter had done wrong and been punished for it, but he still wishes he had reigned in the response. Peter’s punishment should have been more controlled, beginning and ending with the betas.

He runs a gentle, paternal hand through Peter’s curls, bringing in his other one to help gently break up the spunk and sweat-glued strands. Saliva is likely in there as well, but Peter will be getting a bath soon enough to straighten the mess out. It’s terrible to see his hair so flat and limp. It’s an endlessly endearing trait, and why he keeps Peter’s hair on the longer side when all of his female omegas have short bobs or complex plaits and braids to keep things neat.

“Baby.” Taking Peter’s hip in his hand and gently rolling the small amount of baby fat there, he leans down, just out of range of a bite, but still able to be heard in his hushed tone. “You need to tell Daddy where you’re hurting so he can fix it. Can you do that for me, Peter?”

The boy stays still for a few, fleeting heartbeats, before nodding. It takes him a few moments to compose himself enough to speak through his hiccups. “My - my insides. My hole - it burns. Th-they put something in it and it still hurts. E-even with Bucky inside m-me, D-daddy.”

Oh dear, maybe the beta come hurts more than he’d realized.

“Bucky, sweet boy, would you take Peter to the bathroom, please? I need to go grab something. Take a blanket with you, poor omega looks like he’s about to freeze.”

Bucky does as he’s told, gathering his tiny mate up into his arms and moving him to the bathroom. His cock now slips out and swings limply between his legs as he concerns himself with his aching sweetheart.

Going to the supply closet, he pulls out an enema kit. He keeps a wide assortment of tack, gear, medical and various other supplies in it. He has never regretted anything that made its way to the closet, and he’s glad he’d thought to keep such things on hand for times like this.

Moving back to Bucky’s kennel, he goes into the bathroom to find Bucky tongue deep in Peter’s hole, but the poor thing is still shaking and complaining of pain. Ignoring him for the time, Bucky lays himself lightly over Peter, who had been shakily holding onto the edge of the tub during his rimming session. It never fails to make his heart go just a little bit soft seeing Bucky like this. Who knew the beast really just needed a mate - a purpose, really - to bring out something so tender.

He shoos Bucky away, even as the alpha grumbles. Filling the enema with warm water, just a bit closer to the hotter side of things, he caps the bottle with its nozzle. Laying Peter in the tub and having him pull a leg up, he inserts the tip and squeezes the bottle. He has to be careful not to do too much, or the resulting cramps may be worse than the burning semen.

“Now just hold it for a moment, Peter. We’ll do it a few times to wash you out well, then you can have Bucky’s come later without any of the hurting, okay?”

“O-kay.” Curled up and twitching, but covered with a thick blanket from the bed, Peter holds still as the water does its thing.

Moving Peter to the toilet to release the water is easy when you have a 6’9” alpha willing to do some leg work. Peter is repeatedly moved from toilet to tub until the burning subsides and the tears have calmed down. Tony suspects that the tears may have been more from stress than anything now, on the other end of things, but Peter finally calms down enough for him to leave the topic alone.

“Alright, last thing, Peter. You need a bath.” And oh, how Tony would love to be the one to scrub that porcelain body and tame those curls, but that will have to wait for another day. He has work to do, and Peter likely will prefer his mate at the moment. “Bucky’s gonna get you cleaned up.”

He turns to the alpha, sitting quietly on the toilet and now trying to gather Peter into his lap. “I need you to clean him up and keep him clean. If you need to breed again, do it before the bath, but make sure you clean up his curls.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good boy.” He leans down, cheek turned to Bucky, who gives him a gentle, slightly scratchy kiss.

He looks at Peter. “Are you going to be nice and give Daddy a kiss, princess?”

Peter looks away, nodding.

Tony leans forward, turning his injured cheek to Peter. The little omega gives it the softest of licks and a light kiss to the damage he’s done. Tony gives them both a kiss on the forehead as a reward.

As he leaves, he calls over his shoulder, “Bucky, let JARVIS know what you two would like to eat tonight, I’ll send whatever you want down.”

With that, he exits the basement and removes himself from the mates’ lives, for now.

#starker #winterspider #peter parker #bucky barnes #tony stark #peter parker x bucky barnes #tony stark x peter parker #siliqua writes #ru tag #nff

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raspberrytummytickles · 7 years ago

Text

My One True Omega

Wincest Writing Challenge: November 2017 @wincestytypeoflove vs @wincensfw Prompt: Strength (Tarot Cards) Rating: Teen | Wordcount: 3k+ | Round 14 Tags: Unrelated Wincest, Pinning Sam Winchester, Unrequited Love, A/B/O Dynamics, Moment of Destiel, Arranged Marriage, Love at First Sight, @wincestwritingchallenge Summary: Sam’s loved Dean ever since he first saw him. He just want’s his love reciprocated.

Dean woke with a groan, long warm arms around his waist and a needy nose poking his shoulder. He spared a glance at the pair of eyes gazing at him in adoration and sighed, shaking off the cuddly omega.

“Morning, Dean,” Sam said brightly, warm hands rubbing the crooks of Dean’s back. Dean grunted in greeting and pushed the omega more firmly away, getting up. He padded to the kitchen in only his boxers, Sam following behind him talking about something unimportant to Dean.

He fixed his morning coffee, per usual, as Sam puttered around the cooking space and started on breakfast. Dean rubbed his temples, a headache forming at the constant chatter. He remembered a point in time when he thought it was kinda cute but now? Dean could barely stand it.

“Here ya go!” Sam said cheerily, placing down a plate of eggs, toast, cheese, bacon, salami and a small bowl of fruit.

“Sam,” Dean growled. “I don’t eat fruit so stop giving it to me.”

“You need it so shut up and eat,” Sam snorted, popping a grape in his mouth. They had this argument every morning and while tiring, Sam secretly loved it. He could pretend that Dean actually loved him and that this was a sleepy lover’s quarrel. Of course, that wasn’t what it was in all honesty.

Dean didn’t love Sam, it was clear as day that the alpha wouldn’t have chosen Sam for a mate if he thought he had a better choice. Sam, however, was deeply in love with Dean, with his green eyes and adorable freckles. He felt safe around the alpha and would do anything for him. They hadn’t officially mated, Dean putting off actually knotting him but Sam relished in whatever closeness he could get with Dean.

And when he saw Dean had finished his food, including the fruit cup, he called it a win.

—- —- —-

Dean watched the older omega a few seats away with a sad sigh. Castiel Novak was the most gorgeous omega Dean had ever laid eyes on. His scent drove Dean crazy along with his cute little head tilt when he was confused and messy hair plus the brightest pair of blue eyes Dean had ever seen. He wanted Cas so bad but he was stuck with Sam. Dean glanced at the younger omega next to him and wrinkled his nose. Sam didn’t smell bad, he just wasn’t what Dean wanted or needed.

Sam easily hid the hurt he felt whenever Dean’s eyes strayed. He knew he wasn’t who Dean wanted but the alpha could try to at least be less obvious. The thing is, Dean’s father arranged a marriage between them, because the Campbell heir needed a mate. Both were reasonably upset at first, though the omega sometimes thinks Dean is still upset, but then Sam had fallen head over heels for Dean. The Alpha, however, never made an effort like Sam did. They’d been together for four years and Sam was honestly getting a little tired of the rejection and the hate.

Seeing his friends with their perfect mates and swollen with pups was hard when he was downright miserable trying to keep his alpha happy. The thoughts made Sam want to cry but he never dared in front of Dean in fear the alpha would tease him or berate him.

Sam pushed the depression away, focusing back on the paper he was supposedly reading and grimaced.

“This new Alpha leader is shitty at doing his job.”

Dean looked at him with barely concealed annoyance. Omega’s were supposed to be seen, not heard.

“He’s trying to make arranged marriages a law instead of just pack traditions,” Sam elaborated.

Dean snorted and rolled his eyes, “That’s just the way things are. Best to make it official before controversy breaks out.”

“I’d rather marry for love,” Sam said lightly, even though that’s what he did.

“Yeah, me too,” Dean said, turning back to stare at Cas.

Sam just pushed the tears back because he was fine. He always was.

— —- —–

While Sam and Dean weren’t close, sex between them was amazing. Dean was always rough with Sam, pounding into his hole until the omega was weeping both from his eyes and from his cock. Sam wasn’t one who normally enjoyed rough sex but with Dean, Sam felt like he could take anything.

Sam cried and whimpered, calling Dean’s name. He knows Dean doesn’t like it very much when he’s loud. Sam wasn’t supposed to speak. He wouldn’t call what they do making love but there was definitely that spark of connection between them.

Usually a bond between two mates was strong, you could feel it ripple beneath your skin since it is a part of you. But, Sam barely felt a twinge of their bond unless Dean was mad or during sex. So, Sam relished in what little he had with Dean. Call him clingy but he wanted Dean and Sam wished the feelings were reciprocated. When they finished, both reaching a release, Sam rolled so he was curled on Dean’s chest. The Alpha sighed but didn’t move or make any other attempt to touch Sam.

And it really, really fucking hurt.

—–

Sam was honestly tired of being unwanted, especially so openly. Gabriel, Castiel’s alpha brother who once tried courting Sam, hated how the pretty omega was being treated. He and Dean didn’t get along at all because of that. Gabriel hated how Sam was treated and hated how Dean made the omega feel so worthless. He couldn’t let the alpha near his little brother either if he could help it, but Cas made his own decisions if proven beneficial.

“You deserve better,” Gabe would say, golden eyes worried and sad.

Sam would smile and nod, “I know. But, I need him.”

And the subject would be dropped.

——

Jealousy pulled through Dean as he watched Balthazar openly flirt with Castiel. The omega took the compliments perfectly, head held high and a shy smile on his face along with a pink blush. It made Dean’s skin crawl. He wanted to be the one that brought Cas great joy.

Last time he spoke with the omega, he flirted consistently. Until, Castiel stopped him, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t you already have an omega?”

“We never mated but technically yes,” Dean sighed honestly. Castiel had hummed but no longer responded to Dean’s flirting like before.

Just another way Sam ruined his life.

It wasn’t Sam’s fault, Dean knew. He was just taking his anger out on the omega. Sam was an okay guy, super sweet and smart. But he wasn’t like any normal omega and that’s what Dean wanted. Sam was tall instead of small and lean. Sam formed his own opinions and spoke his mind about everything, even ice cream flavors. He ate burgers with Dean and drank beer instead of apple juice and fruits (though Sam did love forcing an occasional salad).

A hand intertwining with his own caught Dean’s attention. He glanced at Sam, ready to snap and ask why the hell they were suddenly holding hands when he saw what Sam was looking at. An alpha named Jody and her little beta mate, Donna. In her arms was an adorable blonde-haired baby that they had just had three months ago. Dean felt a slight pang for Sam who obviously ached for a family but was stuck with Dean. He let Sam hold his hand and gave it a slight squeeze.

Sam looked at Dean in surprise, looking like he was expecting a reprimand. Dean rolled his eyes and turned his gaze back to Cas who he found was staring at him curiously. Dean dropped Sam’s hand as if it were fire and smiled charmingly at Castiel. He didn’t notice Sam’s hurt, resigned expression like Cas did.

They had come home that evening, Dean in a sour mood per usual when his flirting with Castiel didn’t go as planned. Sam just looked tired, done.

“Dean,” Sam asked, getting his Alpha’s attention.

“What?”

“Are we ever gonna mate?”

“Excuse me?” Dean raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

“I see all these omegas or betas with their mates, happily mated and forming a family and I’m just wondering―”

“Sam, you do know that we are never gonna do that, right?” Dean asked carefully, ignoring Sam’s crestfallen look. “I’m never gonna knot you. Look, I get it, seeing everyone with kids and stuff and you not having any but seriously? Can you honestly see us together?”

“Yes,” Sam said softly.

“Well, I can’t.”

“Cause all you see is Castiel.”

Dean heard the bitterness in his voice and grimaced.

“I don’t love you, Sam,” Dean was getting frustrated. “So, I’m not gonna mate with you.” “That’s it then?” Sam snapped. “Just-Just pining after an omega who doesn’t want you when there is someone right here who would die for you to give them an ounce of the attention you bestow on Cas!”

“Shut the hell up!” Dean growled.

“I want to be your mate, Dean! We have a bond but you won’t let it grow because you want Castiel. Well, I want you Dean!”

“I don’t want you, Sam, and I never will.”

“What can I do?!”

“You can leave!” Dean shouted. “You can just get out of my fucking life! I never wanted to be married to you, I never wanted you as my bond mate and I never wanted to spend my life with you! Just get out and don’t come back!”

He was panting, the tension clearing up and Dean got a good look at the omega. Sam’s eyes were watering, a crushed resigned look on his face. He looked like someone ripped out his heart and trampled on it and that’s pretty much what happened.

Sam tuned and walked away from Dean, into their bedroom. Dean stayed where he was, guilt twisting his stomach. Sam returned with a black backpack and headed to the door, eyes blank, losing the life that was always filled in them.

“I hope you get who you want, Dean,” Sam said gently as he walked out the door, placing something in Dean’s hand.

Dean took a breath, turning and watching his husband of four years walk out the door. He looked down in his hand and felt his heart ache as he rolled around the wedding ring he gave Sam that night, four years ago. Dean took a breath and walked to their (now his) room and flopped on the bed, rubbing his eyes.

——–

The first few nights without Sam was torture. Absolute torture. He couldn’t sleep without imagining that warm body invading his personal space and flopping on him.

At first, Dean played it off as missing the sex because it honestly was amazing but it turned into more. Dean hated having that big bed all to himself. He laid there, eyes tracing the ceiling, mind on overdrive.

Where was Sam now? Was he okay? Did he find somewhere to stay for the night?

The questions wouldn’t leave him alone and Dean worried himself for three days straight before knowing he needed to make his move and get a distraction.

——–

“Castiel?” Dean got the omega’s attention. Those gorgeous blue eyes that had once caught Dean’s attention were no match for Sam’s ever-changing orbs, but Dean pushed that thought away. He’s never noticed them before, why should they matter now?

“Dean,” He greeted in his low voice. Dean found himself suddenly wishing for a slightly higher one with a mischievously defiant tone. “Can I help you?”

“I wish to court you, Cas. I have been wanting to since we first met. Will you except me and become my mate?”

Castiel looked at Dean unblinkingly for a second, eyes slightly narrowed. “What about Samuel?”

“He…He left,” Dean admitted. God, it wasn’t supposed to hurt. He should be happy the cheeky loveable omega was gone.

Castiel continued staring before giving a swift nod. “Then yes, courting me would be adequate.”

Dean beamed happily, kissing the back of Castiel’s hand. This is what he’d been waiting for since he first laid eyes on the older omega. And while he was happy, Dean couldn’t help but feel like something was missing.

——–

Courting Castiel was…not what Dean expected. The omega had a schedule to keep, always up at a certain time. The omega didn’t want to stay in bed and cuddle in the morning like Dean had grown used too. Dean found himself longing for a warm body to curl into, for cold toes to press against his thighs and soft whispers of comfort that always managed to awaken Dean, those soft pink petal lips brushing against his temple until Dean pushed him away. Castiel made Dean a breakfast of eggs, meats, breads, cheeses, and not a hint of fruit, just like Dean wanted. Castiel, however, had a little bowl of strawberries and blueberries, and never once tried stealing from Deans bowl like Sam was so fond of doing.

Dean found himself longing for a small bowl of grapes and kiwi.

Castiel also didn’t have any views, he just agreed to Dean’s stand points like a good little omega. Dean, though acting like he hated it, loved when Sam argued his beliefs with Dean, always keeping the alpha on his toes. Castiel, on the other hand, quietly agreed with Dean like how old tradition said. Omegas should be seen but not heard. Sam always made himself known and had pride in what he believed, something Dean once thought was a bad thing but now, couldn’t help missing since Sam was usually right anyway.

Dean found himself longing for the debate partner he lost.

Since nothing was like how Dean planned it would go, he at least hoped fucking Castiel would be good. It had been a fantasy of his for years to get his cock into that tight hole and have the omega squeal his name as he came.

Turned out, Castiel didn’t make any noise, something Dean would usually beg for. But, he wanted to hear Castiel’s whimpers, hear the cries and moans that Dean knew would escape him. Dean wanted to see Castiel’s face flushed and in sheer ecstasy. But, none of that happened. Cas was quiet, only small grunts from every thrust. He also wasn’t very adventurous in bed like Sam was. Sam would try out anything, getting just as or more excited about whatever they were doing, making sex fun and different every time. With Cas though, it was sorta…boring.

Dean pulled out of Castiel before his knot came spitting out, noticeably smaller than any other knot Dean had made compared to when he was screwing Sam. He star-fished on the bed, waiting for his post-sex cuddle but Cas stayed on his side of the bed respectfully.

The alpha was miserable, to be frank. This isn’t at all what he wanted or who he wanted. He pulled out the necklace he wore around his neck, the wedding ring Sam had given back to him hanging on the silver chain. The aching in his chest grew and Dean felt like a part of him had been ripped out and never returned. It didn’t take long for Dean to figure out what he was feeling.

Dean found himself longing for Sam.

———

“I’m sorry Cas….I just…I cant…anymore…I’m sorry…”

“I understand.”

“You….do?”

“Yes, it is plain as day that you and Sam Campbell are meant for each other.”

Dean flushed, realizing that he was probably the only person who didn’t know.

———

Now that Dean had this new revelation, he had to find his mate. Sam was his and the guilt that had been piling on Dean grew with every moment he thought about the fight they had. Sam had looked so heartbroken and crushed, like the love of his life rejected him.

Dean thought back to all the times Sam stuck with him. Sam comforted him when he was upset, took care of him when he was sick, fed him and always made sure Dean was okay. He didn’t have to do that. Sam could’ve thrown the towel in so much earlier than he did because Dean was a major dick. But Sam stayed because he loved Dean.

And Dean loved Sam.

He loved those adorable dimpled grins that looked like sunshine. He loved his narrow waist and firm stomach. His broad shoulders that always help Dean carry the weight of the burdens he thrusts upon them. Sam always looks on the bright, optimistic side, helping Dean see there are good things in life. Sam’s hugs were the best, especially from behind because he could lean into his omegas arms and soak in the love he always freely gave.

Dean was deeply, madly in love with Sam Campbell and he threw it all away for an omega who did things by the book.

Dean needed to find Sam and tell him he was sorry. Hopefully, the omega would listen and take him back.

He searched all the usual places he knew Sam would be, like the library, the bookstore, the fountain in the middle of a huge garden and even the park. Sam loved nature and animals; Dean remembered from their first year married and how Sam would drag Dean to all the nature reserves, pointing out different birds and flowers. At that point, Dean thought maybe they would have a chance at a happy marriage. But then he met Castiel and everything flew to shit.

Dean sighed, about to walk out of the park to find somewhere else to look when he saw something—or rather someone—laying down across one of the benches. Dean made his way to the bench, picking up his pace as he realized who it was.

“Sam?” He called, finally reaching the bench. He knelt by the omega, frown deep on his face as he saw the shivering form. “How long have you been here?”

Sam, having heard the noise, woke up blinking at Dean. He jerked up, startled, eyes wide as he stared at his ex-husband. “Dean?”

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean muttered softly.

Sam was surprised; Dean hadn’t called him Sammy since their first year of marriage. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Castiel?” He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Dean winced. “Aw Sammy. I’m so sorry babe.”

Sam didn’t look at Dean and instead rummaged through his bag. He started in surprise as something dangled in front of him. It was the wedding ring on the necklace.

“You kept it?”

Dean smiled at the awe in Sam’s voice.

“I never would have been able to throw it away.”

Sam was shocked into silence, eyes still on the wedding ring. Dean gently used his pointer finger to swipe Sam’s bangs from his eyes and behind his ear, easily making the movement tilt Sam’s chin up so they were eye to eye.

“I’m a stupid alpha,” He said softly.

“I could’ve told you that,” Sam teased wetly, eyes watering a bit. Dean snorted in amusement.

“I never looked right in front of me, never saw the most beautiful, smart, loving omega just waiting for me to see them. I never saw you and I am so sorry.” Dean pressed his nose against Sam’s cheek, breathing in the cinnamon and cream smell with a sigh of relief. “I love you, Sammy.”

Sam gasped, looking into Dean’s eyes for confirmation, to see if he truly meant it. The bond Dean had been blocking suddenly overflowed with emotion. Love poured through both of them as their soul intertwined. Dean looked at Sam with warm eye, leaning forward and gently kissing the soft chapped lips. Sam happily gave himself to Dean, the alpha making him feel strong.

Dean slipped the ring onto Sam’s finger, kissing his hand. Sam hiccupped, smiling brighter than ever. Dean gave Sam one last kiss, mumbling,

“Let’s go home.”

~Fin~

#wincest writing challenge #Wincensfw #wincest #fanfic #challenge #done #sorta late #oops

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ss-staubrey · 8 years ago

Text

Auction

Omega Beta Zeta’s charity auction was one of the biggest annual fundraisers by a Barden student group. Stacie had heard about the auction from the older girls, but she hadn’t expect the turnout to be this large. Fidgeting nervously, she peeked from behind the curtain as the bids for the girl before her went up to a hundred dollars. She hoped she could bring in just as much, not that she doubted her appeal, but being a freshman meant she went after all of the older girls were bid on, emptying people’s pockets before they could even see her.

Stacie wasn’t thrilled when she found out about the fact that they were auctioning themselves, but the girls were quick to assure her that it wasn’t as bad as it sounded. Only Barden students could bid on her, and they couldn’t ask her to do anything illegal, ask her to wear anything specific, or touch her. Most of the bidders were boys from Barden’s fraternities and they knew that, if either of them got out of line they would be severely punished, not to mention risk losing their charter. So guys mostly asked for the girls to do their chores or help them study for a class.

The auctioneer, their chapter president, closed the bidding for the girl at one hundred and eighty dollars, leading her off the stage and starting Stacie’s introduction. After letting out a nervous breath, Stacie smiled broadly and stepped onto the stage, waving at the audience which she, thankfully, couldn’t see well because of the spotlights on her.

She relaxed a little when the bidding started way over the twenty dollars the auctioneer suggested, quickly escalating and reaching three hundred dollars when two particularly stubborn frat boys started trying to outbid each other, and ending when one of them shouted his final five hundred dollar bid. Stacie chuckled when the guy whooped loudly, pumping his fists as his frat brothers lifted him up. Blowing a kiss at him, Stacie walked off the stage where a group of her sorority sisters surrounded her immediately to congratulate her.

The excitement over the successful auction passed quickly, and Stacie started dreading the day the guy, Howie apparently, was set to pick her up. Stacie fretted over what to wear, not wanting to wear something too revealing so he didn’t get the wrong idea, but looking good enough so that he wouldn’t feel like he overpaid. She finally decided on yoga pants and a t-shirt, in case whatever he asked her to do required something more comfortable than jeans, but didn’t show off her assets too much.

When the day finally came Stacie was ready to bolt. She was thinking of excuses she could use to get out of it, but her hope that frat boys weren’t punctual were dashed when the doorbell rang right on time and one of the other girls called her to the door. She threw on a hoodie as an afterthought, feeling more comfortable with the extra layer even though it wasn’t particularly cold out.

Stacie jogged down the stairs, taking a breath before opening the door and freezing when she found a girl on the other side. “Hi.” The girl at the door was a really hot blonde, gorgeous eyes, and looked a little bit confused. “I’m Stacie and… you’re not that frat guy.”

“No, I won a bet and I got whatever he got at this auction.” The girl frowned and handed her the ticket they gave all the auction winners. “What did he buy exactly?”

“Me!” Stacie grinned broadly, feeling like she’d won the lottery. Not only did she not have to hang out with a sleazy frat guy, but she got to hang out with a really hot girl who clearly had no idea what she was getting into. She took off her hoodie since she didn’t need it anymore, throwing it over her shoulder and stepping outside, closing the door and leading the girl down the porch steps. “For whatever you want. As long as it’s legal.”

“What?”

The girl stopped, forcing Stacie to turn. She quirked an eyebrow and shrugged. “I guess if you can assure me we won’t get caught…” She suspected she’d be willing to do a lot for this girl if she asked.

“No, that’s-” She shook her head and Stacie found her incredibly adorable in her confusion. “What do you mean he bought you?”

“He didn’t buy me.” Stacie knew how that sounded and rolled her eyes at the whole situation. “It’s more like a rental. We usually just help them with their homework or chores.”

The girl arched an eyebrow. “So you do this a lot?”

“You’d be surprised how much frat boys are willing to pay to have a cute girl wash their car. And all the money goes to charity.” Stacie shrugged, lifting herself onto her toes and smiled. “So, I’m all yours.”

“Starting now?” Stacie nodded. “Okay… I’m Aubrey.” Aubrey shook her hand and gave her a small smile, Stacie’s heart fluttering happily. She was suddenly really glad she’d participated in the auction. “Let’s go.”

Aubrey turned and Stacie walked after her, skipping for a few steps to catch up. “Where are we going?”

“Rehearsal, then home.”

“Rehearsal?”

Aubrey looked at her over her shoulder and nodded. “I the captain of the Bellas.”

Stacie had heard about the Bellas from the other girls, but she didn’t know much about them. “Oh right, that singing group.”

Aubrey scrunched up her nose and Stacie could tell she was stopping herself from saying something. Instead, Aubrey kept walking to the other side of campus.

“How much cardio do you do?”

“Cardio?” Maybe she wasn’t so excited about this anymore.

“I assume you exercise. I mean, with your… You look…” Aubrey blushed and walked a little bit faster, making Stacie smirk, at least now she knew she’d had an effect on her too which meant she wasn’t totally straight. “I just thought you could help with cardio while I go over the routine with Chloe.”

“Sure.” Stacie jogged for a few seconds to catch up, not really happy with whatever helping with cardio meant, but more importantly... “Who’s Chloe?”

“My co-captain.” Aubrey stopped when they got a door to a building Stacie had never been in, her hand stopping short of the doorknob before turning back to face her. “The girls can be a bit much sometimes, just don’t let them know you’re nervous.”

If Aubrey thought that made her less nervous, she was wrong but, before she could ask anything, Aubrey opened the door and led her into a large space where a group of girls were already waiting.

“Everyone, this is Stacie. She’s gonna be helping us today.”

Stacie waved awkwardly at the girls looking at her scrutinizingly.

A loud girl with an accent was the first one to talk. “Are you dating her?”

“No!”

“Why not?” Fat Amy asked.

Cynthia Rose nodded. “She’s hot.”

Aubrey sighed. “We’re not dating, we just met.”

Stacie smirked, satisfied by the fact that Aubrey dating a girl wasn’t a wild idea to her friends, and that her reason for not dating her was that they just met, meaning she had a chance.

The girls looked at each other confused. “Did you buy her?”

“No!”

“Sort of.” Stacie answered at the same time, endlessly amused by this conversation and Aubrey’s blatant uncomfortableness.

Aubrey rolled her eyes. “I won her on a bet.”

“Is that legal?” Beca shook her head confused.

Aubrey pinched the bridge of her nose and Stacie chuckled, stepping forward, figuring she could earn some brownie points if she explained. “I auctioned myself for charity, the guy who bid for me lost a bet to Aubrey so now I’m here.”

“Nice, is she for everyone?”

“She’s not.” Aubrey stepped between Stacie and the rest of the girls and Stacie felt strangely pleased by Aubrey’s possessiveness. “She’s just gonna help with rehearsal and with some stuff at the house. Now, we’ve wasted enough time so if that’s all…” She turned to Stacie and talked under her breath. “Just go up and down around the bleachers for a while. Don’t let them slack off.” She turned back to face the Bellas and clapped. “Alright, follow Stacie around the bleachers while Chloe and I go over the routine for regionals.”

Stacie couldn’t stop thinking about Aubrey all week. Yes, she might have suffered a bit running up and down those bleachers, and weeding her back yard hadn’t been the most entertaining thing she could’ve come up with, but Aubrey being there the whole time made it bearable. Aside from being super hot, Aubrey was smart and funny and Stacie really wanted to see her again, but she didn’t know how Aubrey would feel about that.

Stacie wasn’t one to be insecure, usually, but she needed more time with Aubrey before she made her move; and since Aubrey hadn’t known what the original terms of the auction were, she decided to pretend like she was still supposed to help her with things, hoping she wouldn’t get too suspicious.

Aubrey had mentioned she liked the coffee shop by the Bella house so Stacie stopped by before going over. The guy at the register knew who Aubrey was right away, giving her usual to Stacie who then made her way to the house, smiling broadly when Aubrey opened the door. “Reporting for duty?”

Aubrey looked surprised to find her there, but she grabbed the coffee Stacie held out and led her outside.

Aubrey hummed, looking at the front of the house for a while and finally pointed at the front. “I guess the windows need washing, I’ll go get a bucket and sponges.”

Stacie watched her walk away with a smile, happy at how easy Aubrey had accepted her presence there and hoping it meant that Aubrey would be open to going out with her, she just needed to find the right time to ask her, or find more reasons to spend time with her.

“Your shutters could use a new coat of paint.” Stacie commented as she wiped down the pane next to Aubrey’s.

Aubrey glanced at the shutters and nodded. “I guess.” She grabbed her sponge and dunked it in the bucket. “I don’t think we have paint.”

“I’m pretty sure there are places where they sell it.”

“Smartass.”

Aubrey lifted her sponge and waved it at Stacie making her gasp when the cold water hit her.

“You do not want to do that,” Stacie said threateningly.

“I’m so scared.” Aubrey waved her sponge again, squeezing it to get more water out.

Stacie narrowed her eyes, throwing her sponge at Aubrey’s chest, landing with a wet splat before falling to the ground.

Aubrey’s mouth opened in shock, frozen for a few seconds before she grabbed the bucket and lifted it, trying to pour the water on Stacie. Stacie grabbed her arms, keeping her from tipping it over, the water sloshing back and forth and getting them both wet, until Aubrey managed to turn it over, but Stacie was keeping her close and a lot of it landed on her too.

Aubrey let go of the bucket and jumped back, shaking off some of the water while Stacie laughed, pushing her now soaking wet hair away from her face. She looked up at Aubrey, panting. She could feel her shirt sticking to her chest and stomach and noticed Aubrey looking at it.

Aubrey took a step closer. “We should change.”

Stacie felt a shiver run down her spine at the look in Aubrey’s eyes and ran the tips of her fingers down Aubrey’s forearm, tugging her closer by the wrist and nodding.

“Bree, we need to leave for rehearsal now.” Chloe yelled from the front of the house

Aubrey jumped back and looked over Stacie’s shoulder. “I’ll be right there.”

Stacie didn’t really get how she got herself in this situation. Yes, Aubrey was amazing and hot, but Stacie had never gone to these lengths to get someone to go out with her. She usually didn’t have to do anything, she just showed up and people lined up. And now here she was, on her third weekend of doing chores at the Bella house, on top of a ladder cleaning the gutters with only an almost kiss to show for it.

The weather had helped today, allowing her to wear her shortest pair of shorts she could find in her closet and a shirt so tight it wouldn’t stick to her more if it was wet. Aubrey had been practically drooling ever since she’d shown up. She just wished there was less actual work involved and more spending time with Aubrey.

There was a particularly annoying cluster of leaves stuck on one side. Stacie tried freeing it but it wasn’t coming out. She pulled harder, cursing when it stubbornly refused to move.

She heard Aubrey chuckle “Wanna take a break?”

Stacie turned to look at her, wiping her brow with the back of her forearm and leaning with her other arm on the gutter. “I wanted to finish this early so we had time to go buy the paint for the shutters?”

“You want to do that today?”

Stacie shrugged. “We can go tomorrow if you don’t have plans.”

Aubrey tilted her head. “You don’t have plans?”

“I told you, I’m all yours.” She smiled warmly, squinting down at Aubrey and wrinkling her nose.

“Well, do you want some water? It’s pretty hot out here, you look…” She stopped, biting her lip and looking down at her feet blushing.

Stacie smiled, deciding to get off the ladder and turning to look at Aubrey with a seductive smile. “I look hot?”

Aubrey shook her head noncommittally. “You look like you could use some cold water.”

Stacie leaned down, resting her hands on the armrests of Aubrey’s lawnchair. “I am feeling a bit heated.” She licked her lips and leaned closer. “Aubrey, did you know that the deal from the auction was just for one weekend?”

Aubrey frowned confused. “Then why did you come back twice?”

“I really like cleaning gutters.” Stacie deadpanned, chuckling when Aubrey’s frown deepened. “And I wanted an excuse to hang out with you.”

Aubrey grinned, lifting her hand to trace the edge of the collar of Stacie’s t-shirt. “You could ask me out.”

“I could.” Stacie nodded, her skin tingling from Aubrey’s touch. “But then your shutters will never get painted.”

“You could still do it.”

Stacie leaned closer, her nose bumping against Aubrey’s. “I wouldn’t do it for free.”

Aubrey tilted up her chin, her lips almost brushing Stacie’s. “I’m sure we can work something out.”

Leaning down, Stacie pressed her lips against Aubrey’s softly. Aubrey straightened up, covering one of Stacie’s hands on the chair and cupping Stacie’s cheek with her free hand, sighing against Stacie’s lips and deepening the kiss.

Stacie pulled back smiling. “I might need a little more convincing.”

#staubrey #stacie conrad #aubrey posen #pitch perfect #staubrey fanfiction

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 7 years ago

Text

Help!

Having built his own nest, Lance was doped up on amazing Altean medicine. It hadn't removed the pain completely, but he no longer felt like he was constantly being stabbed in the stomach with a dozen blunt kitchen knives, instead, it was more like he could feel the cramps happening and the discomfort from them, but no real pain. Thanks to Allura telling everyone he was suffering from side effects due to Altean technology not being built with omega males, and having taken such a severe blow to his lower abdomen, everyone had come to visit him, including Shiro. At the moment he had Keith sitting near him, while Coran was acting out the greater moments of his youth. Honestly, Lance had long ago lost track of Coran was going on about, pretty much because he was too busy staring at Keith. Since they'd done... that... he'd thought the alpha wouldn't be able to keep his word about giving him space, but thankfully he had. Kind of. The first few days had been particularly rough, and he'd even ended up in the medical bay because of it, but when it came to leaving, Allura hadn't wanted him wandering the halls while doped up. So Keith had walked him back to his room, and made sure he had everything he needed before giving him space. That was 6 quintants ago, and since then, Keith would check in with him, but never stayed more than a vargas at a time. Each time he came, the alpha would sit beside him, like he was right now, without forcing him to talk or think. He was just there, and it felt nice.

The honour of the worst visitor definitely went to Shiro. Shiro had come to see him twice. The first time the alpha had yelled at him for running off to save Keith on his own, and the second time he'd come to visit, he'd apologised for losing his temper. If Allura hadn't been the one to check on him after both visits, he probably would have been a sobbing mess curled up under his desk. He hated being scared of Shiro, but each time he raised his voice, he swore he saw infected Shiro in the man's eyes. Allura had assured him that couldn't possibly be the case, and Lance knew he was being stupid, but after that, the alpha hadn't come back, and Keith had started sitting a little bit closer to him than before.

"Lance?"

Blinking sleepily, Lance rubbed his face, before jerking back

"Coran?"

With the man's face inches from his own, Lance was completely confused as to why Coran was staring at him

"Coran asked you how you're feeling?"

Grateful for Keith clueing him, Lance nodded quickly

"Great! You Altean's have awesome painkillers!"

"Good. That's good. It shouldn't be much longer before you're up and moving again!"

"Good, because I honestly don't think I can take much more singing"

Laughing, Keith placed his hand on Lance's

"Lance, no ones been singing"

"Oh. In my head they have!"

"Yes, well. Side effects will vary. I need to get back up to the bridge!"

"Thanks, Coran. I appreciate the visit"

"Anytime Lance!"

Leaning forward, Lance tried to watch Coran walk from his quarters, but instead nearly ended up falling from the bed

"Lance!"

"Keith, have you ever noticed how orange Coran's moustache is!?"

Sighing at him, Keith pushed him back into his nest

"You ask me every time you see him?"

"I do?"

"You do"

"Did you agree?"

"I gave up agreeing. I thought you'd be less out of it today. Allura said she readjusted your medication"

"I didn't know that. But I do feel good. I can't think. I don't think I can think. Keith. Can I think"

"You didn't think before, so why start now?"

Pouting at the alpha, Lance pulled his pillow into his lap

"Why do you alpha's have to be so mean?"

"Us alpha's?"

"You... Shiro. Shiro hates me. He yelled at me"

"That's because you did something silly"

"How was saving you silly?"

"It wasn't that you saved me, but how. Now, I think it's time you got some more sleep"

"I don't want to sleep"

"Yes you do"

"Maybe I do. You're right. I do"

"You're so smart and pretty!"

Struggling up, Lance planted a very wet and sloppy kiss on Keith's cheek, before flopping back down on his bed. It was comical how fast the omega passed out once his head hit his pillow.

Waking in the middle of the night, it took a moment for Keith to realise what had woken him. There was something in his bed... something big, and something right beside his left foot. Lashing out, his foot hit the solid mass, and pained yelp announced Lance's presence

"What the hell man?!"

"'eith... ow..."

Quiznak. Climbing out of his bed, Keith flicked the light switch. Hunched over the end edge of Keith's bed, Lance was sporting an impressively bloody nose

"Quiznak Lance!"

"'orry"

"Here, let me take a look. What are you doing here? I thought you were sleeping in your quarters"

"'ot 'old"

"You got cold"

Nodding his head, Lance tensed as Keith pulled his hand away from his nose

"It's not broken. You should have just climbed into bed normally"

"'orry..."

Grabbing a spare shirt, Keith bundled it up and pressed it to Lance's nose. Smooth. Kicking an omega with clear PTS right in the face... even worse, kicking the omega that he wasn't completely sure if he was courting or not right the face... really quiznakking smooth. Not sure how to proceed without making things worse, Keith sank down into his desk chair and watched as Lance dealt with his bloody nose.

It seemed to take forever before Lance pulled his shirt away from his nose

"I think it's stopped..."

"I'm sorry I kicked you. Though I don't know why you were crawling around in my bed"

"I got cold..."

Lance sounded like there was something more to this than him just "getting cold", especially given that they hadn't really talked since that night. Not properly at any rate

"Lance, is there something you want to talk about?"

Biting his lip, Lance looked down at the shirt in his hand

"Allura told me to see Coran about getting scanned once the bleeding passed..."

Cutting himself short, Lance shook his head as he rose to his feet

"Sorry. I'll go back to my quarters"

"Lance, I'm going to kick you again if you keep saying sorry. If you want me to come with you, that's all you have to say"

"I don't know what I want. I woke up feeling so lonely and cold that I was scared. I know I'm being stupid. I know"

Rising from his chair, Keith moved to tug his shirt from Lance's hold before dabbing at the small amount of blood dribbling from the omegas nose

"You're not being stupid. The Blade of Marmora contacted me and invited me on one of their missions so I can take you in the morning before I leave"

"No. If you have a mission, that needs to come first"

Did Lance have any idea how cute and weak he looked right now? Throwing his shirt in the corner, Keith then wrapped his arms around Lance. Indulging himself, Keith closed his eyes and breathed in Lance's sweet scent

"What are you doing?"

"You said you were cold"

Lance snorted

"I thought you were sniffing me"

"Maybe. I have to be up early, but do you want to stay until I go?"

"If you don't mind"

"I wouldn't offer if I did"

It was far too soon that Keith's alarm was going off. In his arms, Lance seemed to be attempting to nuzzle through his chest in an attempt to escape the incessant beeping

"Lance, I have to get up"

"Noooo"

"Come on, I need to get up"

"I don't want you to go"

Letting out a sigh, Keith ran his fingers through Lance's soft hair while trying to detangle himself from the adorable teen

"It's only for a couple of quintants"

"I have a bad feeling..."

"If you're that worried, why don't you sleep here while I'm gone?"

"How's me sleeping here going to make you any safer?"

Damn. He couldn't fault Lance's logic on that

"Because it means I know you're safe and that I can concentrate fully on the mission"

Those seemed to be the magic words as Lance finally let him go. Pressing a kiss to the omegas temple, Keith carefully climbed over him

"Keith... when you come back, can we talk?"

"Yeah. I think we probably should"

When Keith returned from showering Lance had already left. Kind of disappointed, he had to remind himself that the fact remained Lance had come to him and climbed into his bed. Even if he had kicked him in the face, the omega had then willingly climbed into his arms, and hopefully when he returned they'd make this thing of theirs official.

Having left Keith showering, Lance had gone to find Coran. He couldn't believe he'd actually crawled into bed with Keith... feeling his face redden, he slapped his cheeks in an attempt to clear his mind, but having slapped himself too hard, he let out a yelp. What the hell was wrong with him?!

"Lance. Allura said you were up and about"

"Yeah. Is she around?"

"I think she was talking with the mice, shall I call her?"

Shaking his head, Lance cast a glance at Pidge and Shiro. He'd thought the bridge would be empty given how early in the morning it was, but now he was trapped with no way of asking Coran about the scan without seeming weird. Wandering over to the pair, he peered down at the display Pidge was tapping away on

"Hey Lance, how are you feeling?"

"I'm good Pidge. What's that you're working on?"

"We've picked up a bug, so I'm just running a diagnostic on the castle system. Shiro said his room was super cold last night"

"Hey, my room was pretty cold last night too!"

"Are you sure it wasn't because you're missing a certain alpha"

Grinning at him, he knew exactly what Pidge was getting at

"Noooo"

"Really? Then why weren't you in your own room last night?"

"Whaaaat! How'd you know about that?!"

"I didn't, not until just now! Why don't you two get together already?"

"Pidge!"

"I'm joking. I'm joking. Where is Keith? I wanted to ask him if his air conditioning was on the fritz too"

"It was fine when I left"

Pidge lost at her own game, the female alpha blushing as her own imagination got the best of her. Waving his hands, Lance tried to cut her line of thought off before this conversation got any worse

"It wasn't like that. I just had something to talk to him about before he left the castle"

"I wish he wouldn't just blindly rush off each time the Blade of Marmora wanted him. We already have enough trouble without adding more"

Lance got the feeling Shiro was taking another dig at him, and he wasn't impressed

"Excuse me for being sick! I'm going to find Allura"

Walking away from the pair, Pidge called out his name, she obviously knew he'd just had his feelings hurt.

Wandering around the castle, Lance found Allura in the lounge. The mice squeaking away happily as they acted out something

"Lance! We're just playing a game of charades! Care to join?"

"No thanks, Allura. But I'll watch if you don't mind"

Patting the space next to her, Lance moved to drop down with a weary sigh

"Everything alright?"

"No. Shiro is being all... Shiro. He's worse than Keith!"

Allura laughed

"I think I know what you mean. He's been all dark and moody"

"Exactly! That's Keith's role!"

"I'm sure now you're up and around, things will find a way to settle down. Have you seen Coran yet?"

"Yes, but Pidge and Shiro were there. Keith said he'd come with me, but he has his mission..."

"Have you too?"

"Allura!"

"No! Not that... I was just wondering if you'd had some time to talk things through?"

"No... we're going to talk when he comes back"

Allura's eyes sparkled as she let out a small squeal

"I'm sorry, I'm just so happy for you both"

"I wish I could feel the same"

Allura's face fell, the princess taking his hands into her own. With everything that had happened, his moods and hormones were still way out of whack. Sitting here with Allura, he'd been so relieved to find a few moments of peace, but now he was tearing up like a fool

"Lance, you are allowed to be happy"

"I just don't want to make Keith unhappy. I still have nightmares, and I... I let my own pups die..."

A small sob escaped his lips, followed by another as he couldn't stop himself

"Oh Lance"

"I'm sorry Allura. I wanted them gone... I thought once they were... I could be with Keith... but Shiro keeps bullying me over what's being gone one and every time I see him I have to remember! I don't want to remember. I don't want him to know what I did. I want to be with Keith, but Keith deserves better than me"

"Keith knows what you're going through. He's chosen you, Lance. He wants to be with you. I don't think there's any greater force than love"

"But this is affecting everyone! Keith and Shiro were so tight, now Keith gets all alpha-ry when Shiro's in the same room as me. Pidge and Hunk both know I've been hiding something. You're already under so much stress, but you're still looking after me! I can't tell them though because I don't want to see the looks of pity they'll give me! It's bad enough everyone knows I'm an omega"

"No one thinks any less of you for being an omega. Maybe we should tell them. We don't have to tell them everything, but something"

"Like what? Shiro got me pregnant, and he has no idea, but it's ok. I through myself in front of Keith to save him and killed the pups! Oh! Oh, let's not forget the part where I tried to give myself an abortion but failed that miserably!"

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