“You’re fucking grounded, Peter.” Tony cursed as he put his hands on his hips. Peter looked unamused, to say the least, “I cannot believe you tried to hack into my company, my life’s work because you were ‘bored’, that just doesn’t make sense.”
Peter looked up at his dad and sighed, “You’re right. I’m sorry. I was in the wrong, dad.” Tony nodded his head firmly, “Good, that’s good. Admitting you’re wrong is the first step to-”
“Can Ned and I go to the mall? They’re having a sale at that store that sells those super yummy smelling candles.” Tony blinked, once, twice, cocking his head to the side, “Excuse me? What happened to us making progress?” Peter blinked, once, twice, before smiling, “We did! I said I was wrong, and you said it was good that I admitted I was wrong! Progress made!”
Tony had raised a brat. Without question, he had raised a spoiled brat. Everybody told him, ‘Tony if you just keep giving Peter what he wants he’s just going to ask for more.’ Tony shooed then away, and continued to buy Peter luxury cars and luxury clothes. Things his peers could only dream of having.
“Spoiled fuck.” Tony spat, and Peter giggled, “You’re not s’posed to curse around m-”
“You’re going to work for what you want. I’m cutting you off. The only thing you’re getting out of me is food so you don’t drop dead.” Tony crossed his arms and he stood firm in front of his son. “Get a job, Peter. Grow up, I’m not going to support you if you’re going to be blatantly disrespectful.”
It hit Peter like a train. Scratch that, several trains. Several trains traveling at light speed, all hitting Peter at once. He blinked, once, twice, three times.
“What?” Peter managed. “Get. A. Job.” Tony repeated, scowling, “I’m fine with being your personal piggy bank, but I’m not fine with spoiling you, which I’ve clearly done. No more high-end manicures or makeup, no more expensive clothes, none of it. Not until you prove to me that you’re in touch with reality again.”
Peter thought for a second, fear in his heart, before the fear lifted and he grinned up at his dad, “Okay, dad! I can just be your coffee runner again! Like when I was 12! Remember, dad? I used to go out and buy your coffee- I still remember how you like it!” Peter had found a loophole, he’d get his dad’s coffee every morning and afternoon, and just come back to the penthouse to watch T.V. or eat strawberry ice-cream.
“No.” Tony shook his head, “That’s not a job, honey,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling, “That’s called being an intern, and Stark Industries already has one- his name’s Harley. He doesn’t even get paid for what he does.” Peter was pouting, glossy pink lips frowning.
“Well then what do you want me to do?”
“Get a job, Peter. I can help you, if you’d like. Maybe you can get one at that makeup store you go to.”
“Well I guess you’re fine with making-do with what you have, then. Such a shame, since the Alexander Mcqueen fall collection is coming out soon, you won’t be able to afford it.”
Peter kicked his legs like a child, and slammed his fists on his thighs, “Don’t wanna job! Don’t wanna work! Want money! I’m not gonna get a job!” he screamed, messy tears ruining his mascara and blush.
“Not with that attitude you’re not.”
It had been a week since Peter’s dad cut him off from the Stark fortune, and Peter was desperate, needy. Peter had to play dirty.
Playing dirty meaning baking a cake, one of the few things Peter could do for himself. It was a cherry-cheesecake, decorated with candied violets and red M&Ms, Tony’s favorite. Peter had written ‘I’m sorry’ in fancy swirly letters with a piping bag on it. This was sure to do the trick.
Trotting into Tony’s lab, Peter held the cake in his hands, looking around for his father.
Tony was sat at his desk, filling out forms. “Hey, Pete.” he said cooly as Tony spotted his son. Peter beamed as he hopped over, placing the cake in front of Tony and on top of some very important papers.
“My way of saying I’m sorry. Throwing a tantrum like a baby was so uncool.” Tony smiled, Peter had used this trick several times in the past. “S’not poisoned, is it? Don’t really trust you, Petey-baby.” Peter looked offended, “Poision? Please, if I wanted to kill you I’d just wait till you fell asleep, take the sharp end of a Louboutin to your head.” Tony smirked, picking an M&M off the cake and popping it into his mouth, “How thoughtful, baby, but it doesn’t change the fact that you still need to get a job. I’m not budging just because you followed the instructions on a Betty Crocker box.”
Peter scowled, picking up the cake, “It was a Martha Stewart recipe, asshole.” the teen spat as he spun on his heel, and walked out, fuming.
Tony laughed to himself as he continued to fill out forms.
Peter dumped the cake into the garbage disposal.
It had now been three weeks, 2 days, 6 hours and 12 minutes since Tony had cut his baby off from the family fortune. Tony had forced Peter’s hand, he didn’t want it to come to this.
Ruby red lips and perfect eyeliner, lacy white panties and a sinfully sheer pink nightgown with a pink fluffy hem. Peter was irresistible.
This wasn’t the first time Peter had tried seducing his dad, and he had actually succeeded once or twice, but those were in a different context. Sexual frustration, pure bordom, testing the limits of taboo, you name it. Peter had never used sex as a way to get money from his father, but there’s always a first time for everything.
The brunette strolled into his dad’s room, not even bothering to knock- what’s the worst that would happen- he would walk upon his dad naked? Been there, blown that.
Tony layed in bed, wearing a graphic T-shirt and sweatpants with a pizza grease stain near the pockets. Not exactly sexy, but Peter could work with that.
“Kiddo.” Tony greeted upon seeing his son. He wasn’t even phased.
“Daddy, I’m sorry. This time, it’s for real, I’ve been so, so bad to you. I need to be punished, I think.” Peter practically moaned as he climbed onto the luxurious bed and on top of his father, “You’re right, I’m nothing but a spoiled little brat, and I need to be taught a lesson.” Peter whispered into Tony’s ear.
Tony laughed as he groped his son’s perfect perky ass, “What are you now? A prostitute? Thought I raised you better.” Tony landed a hard slap on Peter’s ass, earning a whimper from the boy. “Not getting one fucking cent from me, you whore, but since you’re already here...”
Peter left his dad’s room with enough hickies to last him a lifetime, a sore ass and an empty wallet. He was truly at an end.
The elevator opened it’s doors to the penthouse, and Tony was greeted with a dark and empty living room. It was 8 pm on a Friday night, so Peter had no reason to be sleeping.
“Peter?” Tony called, looking around the living room, “Peter?” he called again, this time a little louder. A small hiccup was what Tony earned.
“Peter? Baby? I’m not in the mood to play hide-and-seek.” Another hiccup, Tony followed it to Peter’s room. “Peter?” Tony called, softly as he rested his hand on the door, “Are you crying, baby?”
“M’not cryin’. Go away.” Peter’s voice was hoarse, of course he had been crying. Tony frowned softly, “Bambino, open up, let daddy in.” There was a pause.
“No, wanna be alone. Want daddy to go away.” Peter whimpered, followed by a series of sniffles. Tony felt horrible. “Honey, let me in, I want to talk.” The was silence.
“Maybe,” Tony cursed inside of his head, “Maybe we can renegotiate your punishment, puppy, but you gotta let me in.” Tony was stupid, but he loved his son more than he loved money, and hearing him cry was too much.
There was another beat of silence, and Tony thought that Peter wouldn’t budge, but he heard the handle jiggling and the door was suddenly wide open.
Peter was wearing one of Tony’s M.I.T shirts, too big for him, making him look adorable. His eyes were red and puffy, his cheeks tear-stained and it made Tony’s heart hurt.
“Puppy,” Tony cooed, taking his son’s head and pushing it into his chest, pressing a soft kiss on the top of Peter’s head, “I didn’t mean to make you cry, just wanted to teach you a life lesson.” Peter mumbled something into his dad’s $6k suit as he hugged back. Tony rested his cheek on his baby’s soft curls.
“How about you get an allowance? That way you’ll know how to save and spend money, but you still get to go shopping for pretty skirts and makeup.” Peter nodded into his dad’s chest.
“Good boy, look at me.” Peter did, he pulled away, just a bit, so he could look into his daddy’s eyes, a sincere smile playing on his lips.
“How much, daddy?” Peter breathed. Tony thought for a second, maybe two, “$6k a month, no more, no less.” Peter beamed, pressing a kiss to his dad’s lips.
pooja what is this behavior -Red.
⚠️english is not my first language⚠️
