Peter The Sitter (It's teen Harley, what could possibly go wrong?)

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Peter The Sitter (It's just teen Harley, what could possibly go wrong?)

This story is written after the request of vampirequeen666. Thank you for trusting me with your idea and wanting me to be the one to write this! I hope it ends up how you envisioned it and that you enjoy it 😊

Haven't written spanking stories in a while now and have to admit I felt a little rusty. I hope I managed to pull this off.

Context nobody asked for: For this tory to work in my head so that I can write it I created this AU:
-There is an established mentor/mentee/irondad relationship between Tony and Peter and Tony and Harley and a brotherly bond between Pete and Harl.
-During the blip Peter doesn't die, but Harley does.
-Tony and Peter return to earth to find him gone and they work together to figure out how to bring him -and the rest lost in the blip- back and as in canon figure out time travel.
-This is fanfiction, so we shamelessly ignore the final battle and we pretend they found another way to kill Thanos and our beloved Tony is alive and kicking and so are the boys.
-The story takes place the summer after the blip reversal (summer 2023).
-Harley is 15 and Peter 21.
-Harley is visiting Tony during summer vacation and staying at his house, where he and Peter work in Tony's lab daily.

WARNINGS: In case it's not clear from the tags, this is a spanking-discipline story. Keyword: story. Not a parenting manifesto. Writing spanking stories doesn't mean I condone spanking of real children. Just like, you know, writing murder doesn't mean the writers condone murder of real people. Now that that's all cleared and settled, enjoy!

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A crumpled Monster can soared across the lab in a perfect arc, landing with a loud metallic clank in the trash can. Harley whooped and took a bow. Five years dead or not, he still had it. Skidding between half-finished projects scattered around him, his head bopping to Eminem's rhymes, Harley buzzed on his third caffeine fix. He inhaled deeply, savoring the tangy smell of heated metal and burnt circuits, exhaling with an expression of deepest enjoyment.

That smell deserved its own scented candle or some shit.

Glancing at the holographic time indication above the door, he grinned. Still more than three hours before Peter returned. Having the lab to himself was a rare treat between him, Peter, and Tony, and he was going to make the most of it. Inspecting the state of the gutted Mark 42 armor on the floor in front of him, he scrunched his nose in distaste. He wanted to spruce this old thing up, and Tony had given him his blessing to toy with it. But he simply couldn't figure out something creative enough to do with it. Merely fixing it and getting it working was basic-bitch stuff.

He was no basic-bitch.

Shifting his gaze to the assortment of labeled cabinets lining the walls of the lab, he strolled around, looking for inspiration. Something finally catching his interest, he threw the spanner he was holding over his shoulder before dancing his way to the large white metallic cabinet with the 'Asgardian Artifacts' label.

"Now, we're talking," he murmured and cracked his fingers before reaching to open it. Unsurprisingly, it was locked and the pincode panel taunted him.

Harley clicked his tongue, annoyed. "Damn it, Mech'. Such distrust."

Eyeing the cabinet as if it was a complicated math problem, he considered his options. Ask Friday to open it. Parsimonious plan, sure, but it would likely fail without Tony's authorization. And if he was notified by one ridiculous protocol or another, his fun might be ruined.

Taking out his phone, he shrugged. "Plan B it is."

Lip-syncing to the song currently blasting in the lab, he waited for Tony to pick up.