#sunfloweredstarker

bonus "what i named the original video file" under the cut:

contains: brat!spoiled!peter, ceo!tony, dirty talk, dry humping, possessive!tony (kinda), daddy kink

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Tony had no idea what had gotten into the boy today.

Maybe Starbucks secretly pumped their caramel frappucinos with chemicals that made consumers into spoiled, demanding little brats, just like the one who was currently lounging on the sofa in his office with his slender legs thrown akimbo as he pursed his pretty pink lips around a green straw shoved inside a coffee cup. 

Tony could barely focus on his computer screen, what with the literal temptation of sin stretched out across his couch making obnoxious slurping noises as he drank his coffee. The man’s patience was running out fast, and it was almost as if Peter knew this in the way that he suddenly spoke up.

“Daddy…” He whined petulantly, and God did Tony’s cock twitch at that.

“Yes, baby?” The genius responded for what seemed to be the fiftieth time that morning, pausing his typing and sparing a glance over to where his precious boy was watching him with hooded, ne’er-do-well eyes. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, knowing that when the boy looked at him like that when he was in one of his ‘moods’, it never ended well.

“You’ve been working for aaaages… I’m literally getting grey hairs over here. When’re you gonna be done?” The boy huffed, arching his back to stretch like a pampered cat and groaning lightly as he did so.

Tony let out a controlled exhale through his lips, much like he was performing yoga. “I don’t see myself being done with this work for at least another hour, sweetheart.”

The look that Peter gave him was enough to melt his heart, even despite his logical side knowing that it was a ploy to get the man to pity the boy. For what, Tony had no idea. “An hour? But, but, but Daddy, you’ve already been ignoring me for so long!”

The man opened his mouth to argue, but closed it again. There was no point in arguing with Peter. In this mood, the boy could argue for America, and so he sighed in defeat.

“Alright, look. Why don’t you c’mere, you can sit on my lap until I’m done working.” Tony said, pushing himself back in his desk chair to offer his lap as a seat to the boy.

The radiant smile that spread across Peter’s face was one that took Tony’s breath away, and for a split second made all of Peter’s bratty behaviour previously almost forgiveable. The boy rose from the couch and flounced his way over to Tony’s chair, before placing himself right in the centre of Tony’s lap. 

This was fine, a little obscuring in terms of vision of his computer screen, but Tony could manage.

The peace that settled between them lasted all of about five seconds before Peter was squirming gently on the man’s lap. Tony took a moment to regain composure, before returning to the email he was currently working on. The boy was just getting comfortable, that was all. Nothing more. 

Nothing more, until Peter squirmed again.

And again.

And again.

If Tony was honest, he had kept Peter in his office that morning to stop him from wandering around and causing havoc: the outfit the boy was wearing today, perfectly tight skinny jeans and an oversized dress shirt of Tony’s that had been unbuttoned just one button too many, was bound to cause a few stares from his employees. What could Tony say, he was a possessive man. Only he deserved the privilege to gawk at his boy.

It seemed, however, that Peter was perfectly capable of causing havoc right here in his office. As the boy shifted across his lap one more time, Tony’s slack-covered cock was finally hard, and nestled perfectly against the boy’s pert, delicious ass. The man resisted the urge to hold the boy down by the waist and grind up against him, but he did lean forward so that his chin rested in the crook of Peter’s neck as they both faced the same direction.

“Don’t think I’m stupid, sweetheart. If I have to stop what I’m doing, you won’t be able to walk for the next week.” He drawled, his breath ghosting along the shell of Peter’s ear to make him shudder. 

Peter giggled lightly, before gently tilting his head back so that he could rest it against Tony’s shoulder.

sometimes you come back to a ship six years later and find that your original url from 2019 is being used to advertise "covert hypnosis". whatever the fuck that is