Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.

Challenges listed at the bottom.

Word Count: 2488

Note: I've picked out the canon that I like and threw the rest away, so… take the timeline with a pinch of salt here.

Written for Gen, for GGE21. I hope you like it, lovely.


Parent Material

Or five times Tony is a dad, and one time Peter acknowledges it


i

Peter draped himself on the sofa, closing his eyes as his head was cushioned by the wonderfully soft furnishings.

Tony looked up from his tablet and arched his eyebrow. The kid looked pale—odd, given his usual lack of illness.

"You okay, Pete?"

Peter groaned, wrinkling his nose as he shook his head.

Tablet forgotten on the arm of the chair, Tony got up, resting the back of his hand against Peter's forehead.

"Jesus," he muttered. Peter was burning.

Unsure as to what effect his metabolism would be having on his temperature and whatever illness he was suffering, Tony quietly asked JARVIS to call Bruce from his lab. He perched on the sofa, blinking when Peter immediately shifted his head from the cushion to Tony's lap, his hand coming up to clutch at Tony's shirt.

"I don't feel good," he whined softly.

"I know, kid," Tony replied, trying to be comforting and very not sure if he was hitting the mark. "Bruce is gonna come take a look at you, 'kay? Hopefully he'll be able to give you something to make you feel better."

Peter nodded, then winced, and Tony stroked a hand through his damp hair, biting his lip as he felt the sweat pouring off the teenager.

"It's probably just a bug," Bruce said sympathetically, sighing when Peter turned onto his side, pressing his face against Tony's stomach. "We can try him on a smaller dose of the painkillers we give Steve. Normal paracetamol wouldn't do anything, but that might help."

Tony nodded. "Half dose, though, hmm? I don't wanna knock him out or do him any damage."

"I know, Tones," Bruce agreed. "I'll go and get it. You should let May know that we're keeping him for a few days, just until he's better."

"I-" Tony paused. "Yeah, I didn't think of that, thanks, Bruce. I'll let her know."

Later that evening, still pinned on the sofa by the sick teenager, Tony was joined by the other Avengers. Each of them checked on Peter before they made themselves comfortable, and Tony smiled at the care they showed for him.

Tony had always known he'd been taking a risk by bringing Peter to the team as he had, but they'd exceeded his expectations in accepting Peter as one of theirs.

Steve perched on the arm of the sofa, his hand fluffing Tony's hair, a concerned look on his face every time he looked down at the sleeping boy.

"He'll be okay," Tony murmured, leaning back into Steve.

"It's the first time he's been sick," Steve said, wrinkling his nose. "I wasn't expecting it."

"Neither was I," Tony agreed. "But Bruce said it's probably just a bug, so I'm going to take his word for it."

"You're a good dad, Tones."

Tony rolled his eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not parent material?"

Steve raised his eyebrow and snorted. "I think Peter disagrees."

ii

Peter flew back into a building, the wind knocked out of him. He really should have thought twice before revealing his presence, but wasn't this his job? Helping catch the small criminals of New York?

The bank robbery had seemed easy enough to foil, and yet—Peter dodged just in time to avoid the bullet that would have hit his shoulder.

Apparently not.

Peter swung out of the way of a second bullet, and managed a lucky shot, webbing the hand of the shooter to the wall behind him. Unfortunately, another clipped his thigh, sending him careering to the hard ground.

He flinched when his elbow made contact first. If it wasn't broken, it would be a miracle.

An obnoxious laugh, cruel and taunting, sounded above him, but before anything else could happen, Peter heard the most wonderful sound in the world.

Seconds later, the wall of the bank was blown in, and Iron Man landed, the glowing eyes of the faceplate glaring ominously.

"Not cool, fella's. Not cool at all."

It didn't take long—not even a full minute—for Tony to have the robbers subdued and crying, tied together in the corner with repulsor burns littering their skin.

"You okay, kid?"

Peter let his head rest against the floor. "I'm sorry."

When it was all wrapped up, the criminals taken away, and Bruce having fussed all over Peter's arm and thigh, Peter joined Tony on the balcony of the Tower.

"How's the arm?"

"I'll live," Peter said, shrugging, already hating the sling Bruce had forced on him. "Should be okay in a few days."

Tony nodded and took a sip from his drink. "Why did you apologise?"

Peter frowned.

"When I got there," Tony elaborated, his brow furrowing. "You apologised. Why?"

"You shouldn't have had to come," Peter said, ducking his head. "I'm supposed to help people. You brought me here and I don't… I'm not a hero. I can't even stop a few bank robbers."

Tony straightened himself up. "Listen to me, Kid. You can do amazing things, hell, you've already done amazing things. But you don't always have to do it alone. Needing help isn't a weakness, not ever, you hear me?"

Peter thought about protesting, but Tony shook his head and pulled him into a tight hug. "You are a hero, Peter. You prove it everyday when you choose to use your powers for good. Okay?"

"I… okay. Thanks, Mr Stark."

"Kid…"

"Sorry. Thanks, Tony."

iii

"You know you can't kill the kid, right?" Steve asked, as Tony tied his tie in the mirror. "No matter how much you may want too."

Tony rolled his eyes. "I'm not gonna lay a single finger on him, Steve. I'm just going to… impress upon the little brat that bullying my kid is not the best life choice."

"I thought you weren't parent material?" Steve asked, grinning cheekily.

Tony huffed, and turned away from the mirror to press a quick kiss against Steve's lips. "I'll see you later."

"Don't make me come pay your bail, Tones."

"You mean like I had to for you last month because—"

Steve put a hand over his mouth and then kissed his cheek. "Yes, exactly like that. I'll see you when you get home."

"Uh huh."

Tony had the kids eating out of the palm of his hand within a few minutes.

When Peter had asked him to do a talk for career day, he'd thought about begging off with an excuse—kids, even teenagers, scared him, okay? Tony didn't know what to do with children—but when he realised it would put him in the same place as 'Flash', he'd thought again.

Flash had been bullying Peter for as long as Tony had known him, and only Peter himself had stopped Tony from finding the little pest and squishing him like a bug.

But now… now he had an opportunity. He just had to find a way to get Flash on his own for a few minutes.

"Mr Stark?"

Tony turned and just for a split second, his eyes narrowed. Well, that made that easier.

"Flash, was it?" he asked, arching his eyebrow as he fiddled with his briefcase.

"Yes, Sir. I just wanted to say that I enjoyed your talk and look forward to hopefully working at Stark Industries one day. My dad always told me that that was where I wanted to be if I wanted to get anywhere in life and—"

"I'm sorry, I don't think you're suitable for SI," Tony interrupted, turning his head away.

"Uh. Sir?"

Tony straightened up and smirked. "You see, Flash, SI has a strong moral compass, and we don't, as a company, accept bullies. Given the way you treat my intern, I don't think you're the kind of person we're looking for."

"Pete—You mean Parker? Wait, he's actually your intern? We thought he was making it up!"

Tony shrugged. "That's not really my problem. Let me tell you though, Flash, you're going to make yourself my problem if you don't lay off him, and I don't need a shiny suit to squish bugs that hurt people I care about. Do I make myself clear?"

"I, uh, yes, Sir."

Tony grinned. "Good talk!"

"You didn't have to do that, Mr Stark," Peter said, as they walked down the corridor together, Tony on his way out, Peter to his next class.

Tony smiled at him. "Do what? I don't know what you're talking about, Kid. Have a good day, and swing by the tower later, kay? Bruce is making Thai."

iv

"If you sigh any harder, you're going to bust a lung," Tony said, looking up from the gauntlet he'd been working on to look over at Peter, who was tinkering with his own suit.

Peter wrinkled his nose. "Sorry."

"What's on your mind, kid?"

"Ahhh, I don't know. Just… well, I mean. I want to ask MJ out but she's just so…"

"So?" Tony asked, leaning forward in his chair slightly, because Peter was having girl trouble and that was adorable.

"So, uh, her."

Tony bit back a laugh. "Okay, well you obviously like her being so her. What's the problem?"

"I'm me, and she's her, obviously," Peter said, and it was just so perfectly pitched teenager that Tony couldn't stop his laugh this time.

Shaking his head, he said, "Still not seeing the problem here, kid."

Peter huffed. "I'm not good enough for her, okay? I just… she's great, you know? She's special."

"And you're not?"

Peter gave him the stink eye, and Tony rolled his eyes.

"You think I let just anyone be my intern, huh?" he asked instead.

Peter blinked at him. "What?"

"You think I just let anyone in here? You're plenty special, kid. She'd be lucky to have you—as would anyone else."

"Tony—"

"Nuh uh. You're smart, you're good, Peter, you're kind and you smile a lot and sure, sometimes you ramble, but that's sweet too. And she likes you, dumbass. I've met her once, okay, and I know she likes you just from those five minutes."

Sighing again, Peter bit his lip. "I was hoping you'd have some, uh, tips or something. You know, you've always been popular with girls and that and—"

"I am not the role model for this, Pete," Tony said, shaking his head. "I was a mess—okay, still am a mess—and am really not the blueprint for healthy long lasting relationships, which is what I assume you're looking for."

"But… you and Steve—"

"Are good because of the grace of Steve putting up with my shit," Tony interrupted again. "Look, Pete… you're good, okay? If you want my advice, then that's it. Ask her out, because anyone would be lucky to have you. Be yourself, because it's better than anything I—or anyone else—could construct. You're a masterpiece as you are, Underoos."

Cheeks pink, Peter ducked his head. "Thanks, Tony."

v

Peter's here. He is sad.

The text came with an attachment of a picture, and Tony glanced down at his phone while pretending he was totally engrossed in the meeting he was currently suffering.

And then he stopped pretending, because Peter really did look sad.

What's wrong with him?

Tony waited impatiently for a reply. Steve and his bloody find and peck method, Tony was going to sign him up to a typing class the minute he got home.

Think he misses you, Tones.

Well. That was…

Tony stood up, pocketing his phone as he did so.

"Sorry to run, but I've been called back to New York. Avengers business, I'm sure you understand. I'll have Ms Potts reschedule the meeting."

Without giving anyone a chance to protest or argue, Tony strode from the office. He thought, for a brief moment, about taking the jet, but the suit was faster.

He could be home in just a couple of hours if he pushed it.

"Tony?"

Steve blinked at him, as though he were a mirage or a ghost.

"Hey sweetheart," Tony replied with a grin, stepping out of the suit and onto the balcony of the tower.

"I… I didn't mean for you to come home," Steve said, brow furrowing. "Peter's fine, he's just missing you, is all."

"Well, now he doesn't need to miss me, does he?" Tony said, leaning up to brush his lips against Steve's. "Where is he?"

As he strode inside, he heard Steve mutter, "Not parent material my ass," behind him, and rolled his eyes. This was nothing.

He really wasn't parent material.

+1

Tony woke up slowly, groaning when he opened his eyes to the white washed walls that could only mean the medical wing of the tower.

He woke up here entirely too often.

Closing his eyes again, he twitched his limbs one by one, searching for the one that had landed him in the uncomfortable bed this time.

Since he started at his toes, it took him a while to realise it was his left arm that was the cause, and he opened his eyes again to look at it.

Damn it, a cast. Of course it was in a cast.

Steve chuckled from the chair beside the bed, and Tony raised his eyes to glare at him. Steve rolled his eyes and shook his head fondly.

"At least they're not going to keep you here for too long, right?" the super soldier offered, and Tony wrinkled his nose. That was true.

They wouldn't force him to stay for a broken arm. "How long was I out?"

"Only an hour or so," Steve assured him. He nodded to the other side of the bed. "That one has been worried about you though."

Tony turned to see Peter curled up in a second chair, biting his lip as he watched Tony.

"I'm okay, kid," Tony murmured, reaching out with his right arm to Peter, who took his hand immediately. Tony squeezed comfortingly. "I'll be even better if you go and sneak me some coffee though."

Peter grinned at him, though the worry didn't fully dissipate from his eyes. He glanced at Steve, who must have nodded, before he stood up. "I'll be right back."

Tony nodded, and focused on pushing himself up into a sitting position, grimacing when Steve helped him. He really hated casts.

"Two sugars, right, Dad?"

Tony froze.

When he looked up at Peter, he saw pink cheeks and a bitten lip, but Peter met his eyes and didn't duck away, almost stubbornly waiting for Tony to call him out on it.

Tony nodded slowly, and Peter smiled, wandering off to find the coffee. Tony looked at Steve.

"What the—"

"You're crying," Steve said, his lips tilting up in a soft smile.

Tony wiped his eyes with his right hand, scowling. "I'm not crying. I've just got something in my eye."

"Uh huh."

"He just…"

"Yes he did."

"Huh."

Steve smiled and then leant over to press a kiss to Tony's lips. "Still think you're not parent material?"


Written for:

365: 110. "I'm not a hero."

Scavenger Hunt: 20. Write a story with the genre Family

Fantastic Beasts: 197. Water Dragon: "I'm not crying. I've just got something in my eye."