#the piña colada song... the most romantic song about a married couple trying to cheat on each other

[croc-odette]

taub just shot to the top of the list of unwell characters on this show when it became clear that the ringtone of his ex-wife of 20 years who he's cheating on a 22 year old nurse with is the piña colada song. and they're both having his baby.

[prettyboy-parker]

come with me and escape

words: 4k

warnings: cheating, underage drinking, fem!peter, daddy kink (always), semi degradation, unprotected sex

author’s note: happy summer! I’m feeling really summer-y right now, so this was the perfect way to get those vibes out! as with most dark/taboo themes that I write about, I do not condone cheating in real life. It is used as a plot device/conflict in the story. Happy reading!

listen to while reading:

Escape (The Piña Colada Song)- Rupert Holmes

Does Your Mother Know- ABBA

Santeria- Sublime

Doin’ Time (Cover)- Lana Del Rey

Tony has a hard time relaxing.

Pepper tells him this constantly. They’ll be sitting outside, sipping on some cucumber water, watching Morgan put on her own one-woman play, and Pepper will point out how hard he’s holding his glass. His dentist tells him that he grinds and clenches his teeth in his sleep, he’s getting sick more easily, and he’s lashing out at Pepper.

He assumes the stress is from work, since the launch of the new Stark Phone X is coming up. Or, it could be how his marriage is falling apart. He’s definitely fallen out of love with Pepper. She’s still his best friend, of course, but they don’t romantically love each other anymore. Tony would file for divorce, but his company would take a huge hit.

And he doesn’t want to do that to Morgan.

So, when Pepper announces that they’re taking a family trip to an all-inclusive resort somewhere in Bali, Tony knows he’s not going to be able to relax. He’ll most likely be worrying about his own work while worrying about Pepper’s work the entire time. Also, a 5 year old and a day long plane ride sound like a recipe for disaster.

Tony fully expects his stress levels to multiply by 10.

Tony was wrong.

When he stepped off that god-damned plane, it was like all his worries were brushed off of his shoulders. Pepper definitely looked happy, the salty Bali air raising her mood. Morgan was just ecstatic to be off the plane.

Pepper is in such a good mood that she actually is letting him drink.

“I’ll get a strawberry daiquiri,” Tony tells the bartender, a young woman with dark skin who looks a little too enthusiastic for her job. She hustles off to make the drink, when,

“Everything sucks. I can’t tan. I only burn.”

There’s a gorgeous young man leaning over the bar, plump, pink lips formed in a pout. His damp, chestnut brown hair is pushed back by the Ray Bans perched on his head. His long eyelashes flutter as he looks at Tony, big, brown, doe eyes peering at him as he cocks his head to the side. His pert ass is sticking out, contained in the shortest red bathing suit bottoms Tony has ever seen. A sheer red coverup is draped over his long, milky arms, leaving little to the imagination.

“Why don’t you just get a spray tan?” Tony manages to stutter out, pushing his own sunglasses on top of his head. He wishes he lived in a world where his biggest problem was that he couldn’t tan.

The boy bites his lip and lets out a little giggle.

Tony wishes hecould bite those lips.

“As if!” He exclaims, “I don’t want to look like an orange.” The boy hoists himself up onto one of the bar stools.

The bartender puts Tony’s drink down in front of him and he gives her his resort card.

“That’s fair. Don’t lay in the sun all day, though, if you know you burn.” Tony tell him, taking a sip of his drink.

“That’s very thoughtful,” The boy says, then turns to the bartender.

“Could I get a Shirley Temple, please?” He asks, tapping his fucking French manicurednails on the countertop.

“Not old enough to drink?” Tony asks teasingly.

He rolls his eyes.

“Not legally,” He winks, “Will be in a year.”

Tony smirks at the boy.

“You’re 20?”

“On the nose. It kind of sucks, because I’m not really into guys my age.”

Tony only gets a moment to process what the boy said because Morgan comes bounding up to the two.

“Daddy! Mommy said you’d come watch me on the slide.” She squeals, pulling on the bottom of his swim shorts.

His chances with the boy are totally gone.

On the slim chance the boy didn’t know who Tony was, he definitely doesn’t want to get with someone who’s married and has a kid.

“Did she? She’s crazy.” Tony jokes, leaning down to put Morgan on his lap. He brushes a wet strand of hair out of her face, trying to avoid poking her eye.

“Hi!” Morgan exclaims, waving her pudgy hand wildly at the boy. Tony should be a good dad and tell her not to talk to strangers, but he wants any excuse to keep talking to the boy.

“Hi!” The boy says, waving back at her.

“What’s your name?” Morgan giggles, swinging her little legs donned with pink crocs.

“Peter.” Peter responds, taking a sip of his drink.

Being the child she is, Morgan doesn’t respond.

“Daddy, can you come watch me on the slide now?” She asks, reaching up to tug on Tony’s ear.

“Ouch! And yes, I’ll come watch you.” Tony tells her, putting her on the ground gently. Tony stands up and takes her tiny hand in his, which is already outstretched.

“Bye Peter!”

Peter waves goodbye and winks at Tony.

Yeah, he has to see the kid again.

***

The next time he, or should he say they, see Peter again is at dinner.

Pepper is exhausted because Morgan is complaining about the smell of the seafood and how yucky shrimp is. Tony just wants to go to the bar alone.

While Tony and Pepper try to eat their food, Morgan’s head snaps up from where she’s sulking.

“Peter!” She shrieks, Pepper promptly shushing her. Tony turns around and there’s his boy, swiftly approaching. He’s dressed in tiny, high waisted black shorts and a red Hawaiian shirt that has the top 4 buttons undone. Peter’s face is practically glowing and as he gets closer Tony can see that his shirt has dogs riding fucking surfboards on it.

“Hey Morgan!” He says as he stops at the edge of their table, curls bouncing from his stride over.

Pepper gives Tony a look that says who the fuck is this kid and why does he know my daughter?

“Pepper, this is Peter. We talked for a bit at the bar earlier. Morgan introduced herself.” Tony tells her with a forced smile, wanting to look at the boy instead.

“Oh, you made a friend, Morgan?” Pepper turns to their daughter, who nods furiously, whipping her unruly brown hair around.

“You have a very polite daughter, Mrs. Stark.” Peter says, practically beaming.

What a charmer.

Pepper takes a breath, surprised.

“Why thank you. We try to raise her well.”

Peter giggles and bites his lip.

“You’re definitely doing something right! I have to go eat now, I’ll see you all later!” Peter waves goodbye and trots off to the other side of the restaurant, hips swaying.

“Sweet boy.” Pepper mutters through a mouthful of food.

“Yeah. Sweet boy.”

***

If there is a god out there, he must like Tony.

Because Pepper ends up with food poisoning.

She starts throwing up around 2 in the morning. Google tells Tony that she’s going to be bedridden for a couple of days.

Perfect.

After breakfast, Tony promises Morgan that they’ll spend all day at the pool. She’s ecstatic, jumping up and down. Tony shushes her and helps her get ready for the day.

Peter finds him relaxing on one of the pool chairs, watching Morgan play with her mermaid Barbie doll.

“Tony,” Peter purrs, the older man almost dropping his drink in surprise.

“Peter, hey,��� Tony responds, adjusting himself in his chair.

Peter perches himself at the edge of the lounge chair, extending his long legs and crossing his ankles. He’s chosen black swim shorts today, paired with a sheer black coverup embroidered with roses.

“You’ve got your sunscreen on?” Peter asks, hand resting very close to Tony’s leg.

Tony chuckles at the thoughtfulness.

“No, I’ve got this umbrella.” He says, gesturing to the big tan umbrella over them.

Peter gasps, reaching for the spray can of sunscreen next to the chair.

“You still need sunscreen, silly goose.” Peter scolds, spraying Tony’s legs. He can only swallow thickly as Peter takes his dainty hands and rubs the sunscreen in. Tony tries to tear his eyes away as the boy’s hands rub up his thighs. Peter sprays more on his chest and arms, hands massaging the liquid into his skin. He quickly pushes Tony’s sunglasses onto the top of his head, spraying the sunscreen directly into his hands. Tony almost loses it when he starts putting sunscreen on his face, ridiculously soft hands cupping his rough cheek.

“There.” Peter says, wiping his hands on his on thighs.

“Thanks.” Tony manages to choke out, adjusting his swim trunks.

“Anytime,” Peter giggles, standing up.

“Hey, why don’t you sit down? Hang out for a little bit?” Tony offers, gesturing to the empty lounge chair next to him.

Peter rolls his eyes and smiles, climbing onto the chair. He sighs as he leans back,  closing his eyes.

“This is my favorite spot.” He tells Tony, keeping his eyes closed.

“What, you come here often?” Tony laughs, shaking his head.

Peter opens his eyes and turns his head, grinning.

“My dad owns the place.”

“Shit, really?” Tony says, surprised.

Peter lets out a breathy laugh.

“Yeah. I’m down here quite a bit in the summer.” He says nonchalantly, picking at the bed of his nail.

“Where are you usually?” Tony asks, taking a sip of his water.

“Massachusetts. I go to MIT.”

Tony smiles.

“No way! That’s where I went.”

Peter cocks his head to the side.

“I know.” He says. He bites his lip and brushes stray curl out of his face. His cheeks are dusted with red, most likely due to the sun, and his sunglasses block his honey brown eyes.

“Do you want to have a drink with me tonight?” Tony blurts out without thinking, too caught up in the boy’s beauty.

His heart sinks when Peter stays silent, eyebrows rising.

“The misses has food poisoning, so,” Tony trails off, face heating up in embarrassment.

“I’d love to.” Peter says softly, pink lips stretched in a genuine smile.

“Really?” Tony asks in disbelief, like a teenager.

“Of course. But I’m going to need your number.”

***

Tony can’t remember being this nervous about a date in a very long time.

He doesn’t even know if it is a date, but he like to think it is. He feels like he has butterflies in his stomach as he waits at one of the bars near the end of the resort. There’s not too many people around, which is nice.

“Hey, Tony.”

The older man turns around, coming face to face with a literal angel.

Peter stands before him, smiling softly. He’s wearing a very skimpy outfit (not that Tony’s complaining) for drinks at 8 at night. He’s wearing tiny white shorts over what looks like a very light pink chiffon teddy. Dusty rose colored silk drapes over his shoulders, wound tightly around his forearms. The cutest pink ballet flats encase his feet, silk ribbon tied into a bow around his ankles. There’s blush dusting his cheeks and clear lip gloss slathered on those plump lips.

“Oh, Pete, Hey,” Tony manages to say, clearing his throat. Peter giggles and bounds up to Tony, stands on his tippy toes, and presses a kiss to the man’s cheek. Tony’s at a lost for words as Peter sits down, leaving lipgloss on his stubble ridden cheek. He’s glad Pepper made sure to find a very private resort, because if there were crowds of people he’d be screwed.

“You look nice.” Peter compliments, thin fingers grazing over the rolled-up sleeve of his gray dress shirt. Tony swallows as he tries to get his shit together.

“Thanks, you do too. Gorgeous, actually.” He blubbers, losing years worth of smooth talking experience

Peter giggles and looks at one of the purple coasters on the countertop.

“Thanks,” He says softly. He brushes a stray curl out of his face, tucking it behind his ear.

“You want a drink?” Tony asks, fiddling with his Rolex.

Peter blinks a couple of times.

“I’m not old enough to drink. You know that,” He teases, swatting at Tony’s arm.

Tony leans in close, lips brushing against the top of Peter’s ear. He hears the boy’s breath hitch. His fluffy brown locks tickle the older man’s nose.

“We can indulge for one night. Isn’t that right sweetheart?” He mumbles, nipping on his ear before pulling away.

Peter’s blush has darkened and his mouth is parted slightly.

He nods wordlessly.

Life Lesson #254: Never give kids alcohol.

Peter’s not really a kid, but he is really fucking light weight.

He’s tipsy after his first drink and Tony would like to avoid a complete blackout, so he denies either of them more drinks around 10.

“Let’s do something fun,” Peter insists as the leave the bar.

“Yeah? Like what?” Tony asks as they enter the near empty hallway, the smell of disinfectant in the air.

“Mini golf,” Peter whispers, bouncing on his feet slightly in excitement.

Tony can’t help but laugh at the boy, wrapping his arm around Peter’s dainty waist.

“Show me the way, princess.” Tony says, not registering the pet name that slipped out. Luckily, Peter just grins wider.

The make their way through the resort, through hallways that all look the same. They eventually reach the outside, the humid air hitting their bodies.

“Here we are!” Peter exclaims, dragging him to a nice looking shed.

“Shit baby, it’s closed.” Tony says, noting the “We Open at 8 A.M” sign perched on the front counter.

“I told you, I know my way around.” Peter giggles as he punches in a code on the keypad that’s connected to the door. It opens and Peter slips inside.

“Hello, sir. Mini Golf is 7 dollars per game, but I think I’ll give you the handsome customer discount,” Peter jokes, wiggling his perfectly groomed eyebrows.

“Oh hush, you.” Tony scolds jokingly, leaning on the top of the counter.

Peter just winks and disappears under the counter.

“What color do you want?” He asks, voice muffled. “You can have anything but pink. I always get pink.”

Tony rolls his eyes and smiles.

“You have red down there?”

Peter pops back up, a red club and a pink club in hand.

“Sure do.” He says, waving the clubs around. He places the clubs on the counter, disappears again, then reappears with two golf balls in his hands, each their respective colors.

“You ready?” He asks, swinging over the counter.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Tony responds, taking both his golf club and ball in one hand.

Peter takes his free hand and they walk to hole number one.

“I’m absolutely atrocious at mini-golf, by the way. I miss every single time.” Peter huffs, bending over to place his ball on the ground.

Tony tries to tear his eyes away from that ass, but he’s unsuccessful.

“I guess I’ll have to give you a private lesson, then.” Tony smirks, poking Peter in the stomach.

“You’re funny. But I wouldn’t mind,” The boy purrs, looking up at Tony and fluttering his mascara coated lashes.

“Let’s get started, then.” Tony grins and places his hands on Peter’s tiny waist, his own club forgotten on the ground.

“Spread your legs a little more. You need a proper stance.” He says huskily, turning Peter so he’s standing to the side. The boy obeys, then sticks his ass out a little more.

“Like that?”

“Yeah, like that.” Tony growls, his arousal almost clouding his brain.

“Now you need a good grip on your club. Right hand under the left.” He instructs, placing his own hands over Peter’s.

“There you go. Good boy.” He praises.

Peter shudders against Tony, heavy breaths falling from those perfect lips.

“Then you just swing back,” Tony swings the boy’s arms back, “And hit it.” The club hits the ball, narrowly missing the hole.

“Damn. Nearly got it in the hole.” He mutters in the boy’s ear. He slowly moves his lips right down under Peter’s ear, right under his jaw. He sucks the skin into his mouth, biting hard enough to leave a mark. A high pitched whine leaves Peter’s throat as he drops the club onto the ground.

“Kiss me already, god dammit.”

At that, Tony grabs the boy by his shoulders and pulls him in, pressing his chapped lips to the glossy ones. Peter moans immediately, hands flying up to grip Tony’s salt and pepper hair. Tony cups his lower back, dipping Peter down slightly. His tongue eventually slips into Peter’s mouth, the younger much less experienced than Tony.

“Fuck, Tony, we need to get to my room now.” Peter whines once they pull apart, gripping at Tony’s broad shoulders.

“Roger that.” Tony quips, guiding Peter off the mini golf course, clubs and balls long forgotten. Peter leads them to one of the lesser known elevators, kneading Tony’s growing bulge the ride up to his room.

“Damn, baby. So spoiled, a suite all for yourself?” Tony teases as Peter tries to swipe his room key. The boy moans at the older man’s words, pushing open the door weakly.

“Daddy-“ Peter moans, but immediately cuts himself off in embarrassment. Tony can only let out a deep moan, throwing his head back.

“Fuck, such a needy princess.”

Peter falls to his knees, massaging Tony’s cock through his slacks.

“Only for you, daddy.” Peter responds, mouthing over the fabric of the pants.

Tony groans and starts to unbutton his slacks, but his thick fingers are pushed out of the way by Peter’s dainty ones. The younger pushes down the black slacks, then gives Tony’s very visible bulge a squeeze through the fabric. Tony’s hand flies up to grasp Peter’s pretty brown locks tightly. Peter’s long nails scrape against his thighs as he pulls Tony’s boxers down. He moans when Tony’s thick cock springs free, slapping against his stomach. Peter wastes no time, one hand cupping Tony’s heavy balls as the other starts stroking his cock slowly. Tony groans and tightens his grip on Peter’s hair when he sees that the kid is drooling. Peter leans down to wrap his lips around the head of his cock.

“Fucking hell, baby,” Tony moans, Peter lips slipping further down his length. He hollows out his cheeks and sucks.

“Peter, honey, we need to move this to the bed now if you want daddy to last.” He managed to grunt out. Peter pulls off his dick with a satisfying pop, saliva covered lips formed in a pout.

“Poor baby. Daddy will give you what you need.” Tony coos, thumb running over Peter’s bottom lip.

“Take everything off except for your underwear.” Tony orders, kicking off his pants and moving to unbutton his shirt.

Peter nods vicariously and drops his shawl on the ground. He bends over to untie the bows on his shoes, placing them neatly next to the bed. Dexterous fingers unbutton his shorts. His shorts slide down his milky legs and he’s left standing in the chiffon teddy, small cock hard and leaking, covered by the fabric.

“Fuck, you naughty boy.” Tony growls, giving his dick a few strokes.

Peter giggles and hops up onto the king bed, immediately going on his hands and knees.

“Good boy,” Tony praises, making his way to the edge of the bed. He gives Peter’s ass a little slap, pushing the fabric covering his skin away. He climbs onto the bed, kneeling behind Peter.

“Lube?” Tony asks, gently running his hand over Peter’s red cheek.

“Drawer,” He croaks out, pressing his ass against Tony’s cock. The older man leans to the side, sifting through the drawer until his hands hit a familiar bottle. Tony uncaps the lube, squirting some on his fingers.

“Relax, sweetheart,” He coos, brushing his slick fingers over Peter’s tight whole. The boy shudders, back arching at the contact.

“Be good.” Tony orders as he slips his index finger into him. Peter moans, hips desperately rutting into the bedsheets.

“Daddy,” Peter whines as Tony pushes in a second finger, than a third. The older man chuckles as he purposely avoids his prostate.

“Just fuck me already!” Peter cries, trying to fuck himself on Tony’s fingers.

“Needy slut.” Tony grunts, pulling out his fingers and slapping Peter’s ass again. He snatches up the lube, squirting more into his hands and stroking his cock.

“Ready Baby?” Tony asks Peter, gently pushing him over so he’s on his back.

“Yes, daddy.” Peter responds, eyes glistening with tears.

Tony groans and grips the base of his cock, positioning it on Peter’s hole. The boys hips jerk upwards, pretty pink cock slapping against the silk of his lingerie. Tony can’t take it, so he pushes in. Both of them moan, Peter’s high and breathy, Tony’s deep and full.

“So fucking tight,” Tony grunts through gritted teeth once he’s all the way in.

Peter doesn’t respond, just breaths harder.

“So full,” He mumbles, manicured nails scraping at Tony’s biceps. Peter is a vision, brown curls all tousled and cheeks flushed a pretty pink.

“M’ gonna move, that okay, princess?” Tony asks, tightening his grip on the boy’s unblemished hips.

Peter nods and Tony gets to work. He starts his thrust slowly, burying himself in Peter’s tight, wet heat. But when Peter cries out for him to move, how could he deny it?

“Fuck, daddy, harder!” Peter wails, body moving back and forth from the force of Tony’s thrusts.

“Yeah baby,” Tony grunts, hips snapping at a ridiculously delicious pace.

“Gonna come,” Peter moans, squeezing his eyes shut, a tear rolling down his cheek. His lips shine with his own saliva, parted enough to let out another moan.

“Do it baby, come on daddy’s cock,” Tony coaxes. Peter’s body tenses and he’s coming, eyes screwed shut as he paints his chest white. His walls tighten around Tony’s member and with a shout he spills his release inside of Peter.

The older man collapses on top of the younger. Peter lets out a giggle as Tony slips out of him.

“You did such a good job. You were gorgeous. Perfect. Beautiful.”

Tony peppers kisses down Peter’s torso, the boy’s eyes screwed shut, smiling softly at the praise. Tony adjusts the two so their heads are on the pillows and wrapping his arms around Peter’s thin body. He nuzzles into the crook of Peter’s neck, inhaling his scent of sweat, sex, and perfume.

“Stay?” Peter squeaks, pulling Tony’s arms closer to him.

“Of course.”

***

“I wish you didn’t have to leave.”

Tony sighs heavily, running a hand through his messy sex hair.

“You know I don’t want to.” He tells the boy, looking at where he’s seated.

All he’s wearing is Tony’s dress shirt from last night. He’s sitting criss-cross on a wicker chair, staring off over the balcony railing. There’s hickeys down his neck and chest, proof of their slower morning session.

“I always get caught up in this.” Peter says, not looking at Tony. “Fall head over heels for some rich guy that vacations here with his wife, then become forgotten after his trip.”

Tony swallows thickly.

“You know I won’t forget you.” He says, staring at the glass in his hands.

“I don’t think you can promise me that.” Peter says sadly, picking at his ring finger nail.

“I sure can. You’re an angel, Peter.” Tony says truthfully.

Peter smiles sadly.

“I’ll come visit you. At MIT.”

Peter laughs bitterly and shakes his head.

“I will. I don’t particularly want to have dorm sex again, but I can make an exception.”

Peter lets out a genuine laugh this time. He rubs his face with one hand.

“How are you going to explain that to your wife?”

Ah, there’s the dreaded question.

“We don’t talk much anymore. I don’t think she’ll even ask.” Tony says sadly, eyes drifting to the crisp blue ocean in the distance. Long arms wrap around his bare torso. Peter rests his head on Tony’s shoulder, breathing in deeply.

“You know, in an alternate universe, we’re probably together.” He mumbles, squeezing Tony tighter.

“Alternate universes. Funny.” Tony says dryly.

“There’s a reason why we found each other.”

Tony smiles.

“Yeah. There’s a reason.”