Peter: Can I ride this skateboard outside?
Tony: I’m not your dad, do what you want.
Tony: Not on the road! Stay on the sidewalk!
Peter: Can I ride this skateboard outside?
Tony: I’m not your dad, do what you want.
Tony: Not on the road! Stay on the sidewalk!
[Before Peter came out]
Tony: You must be getting all the girls…
Peter: [Nervous Gay Laughter]
This is such a cute fic! In this one, Tony is Peter’s biological dad and he goes through the rollercoaster of fatherhood. This fic mainly focuses on the first few months of Peter’s life, but the series continues (I haven’t read to others yet, but I plan to!)
Stark men don’t quit. Stark men brush off their knees as they get back up and fix their mistakes. Tony’s not stupid; he knows he’s made plenty of them. He has a ledger-full, a laundry list.
But somehow, this doesn’t feel like one of them.
or: the one where tony finds out he’s going to have a kid and he thinks maybe, just maybe, he could try giving the whole ‘dad’ thing a go.
Tony: You have to stop getting shot, kid!
Peter: … it be like that sometimes
THANK YOU SO MUCH LUV I LOVE YOU AH
AND YES - homecoming scene where Peter slides into his living room but with Tony. If you’ve ever seen “Sherlock Holmes: Game of Shadows” there’s a scene where Jude Law and Robert Downey are dancing and Downey goes “you’re a marvellous dancer, who taught you?” or something along those lines and Jude Law responds “you did” and asdldkjldsjadlshfewh Tony is a good dance teacher #confirmed
Tony knows his way around women (men too), he’d had enough of them that he better. Peter, on the other hand, had had one (disastrous) date and a handful of crushes in his life, and the girl he asked to prom (“she said yes mr.stark she said yes!”) was the biggest crush he’d had since Liz.
So he wants to impress her, he fidgets next to tony for almost half an hour before mustering the courage to ask him for lady-lessons; “just make me… not me.”
Tony quirks an amused eyebrow. “But she said yes to you, Underoos, and you are just fine. So I won’t ‘make you not you,’ but if you want some helpful tips on things you can do that will reduce awkwardness I’m here for you.”
“Kay good cause I’m the most awkward person on the planet.”
The first thing they do is dance lessons; Pete’s hand-eye coordination is pretty good (thanks Spidey) but he’s nervous and stiff and doesn’t like leading. Tony teaches him some moves, first with him as a demonstrator then as Peter’s pretend-date. It results in some pretty hilarious footage that Rhodey insists FRIDAY save.
On Tony’s instructions Peter shuffles up to MJ a few weeks before he’s goes to get his suit. “Hey, MJ… I’ve got kind of a weird request for you.”
She rolls her eyes and shuts her locker, staring at him as a blush begins to burn his cheeks. “What do you want, dork?”
“Do you have a clipping of your dress from when you got it altered?” Peter’s voice squeaks a bit, he’s so nervous and this sounds so weird. “So I can match my suit to it and stuff.”
MJ makes a face, almost like she’s… impressed. “Yeah, I’ve got some, I’ll bring them tomorrow.” Oh my god. She’s impressed. “I didn’t think you’d know about that stuff.”
She walks away. Peter sends Tony a text: ur a god
pls help me find a suit
sure thing kid, we’re off to Italy this Friday.
I am so sorry that this has taken me so long to do, I honestly have no excuse and was not ignoring it at all!!!
BUT this prompt is so cute Ima try:
I get big NewDad(/brother) vibes from this, like neither of them are prepared for this responsibility but they are going to do T H E I R B E S T
Morgan is like, a year old, and Pepper has decided she wants to go out for the night, but doesn’t want to hire someone. Tony is 100% supportive of this, he is the best househusband, he can handle being alone with his own daughter; he can manage without Pepper.
This is a false assumption. Peter is called in as backup.
Peter would definitely make one of those pillow enclosures, where you box the baby in with pillows and put a bunch of toys inside the pillow boundary to entertain the baby. He gets in with Morgan and plays with her for a while, Tony relaxes.
lmao you thought, because now it’s time to get her into bed. She is suddenly wailing, and Tony is bouncing her and has her all ready but she isn’t stopping and he’s beginning to panic a little bit.
FRIDAY has been consulted 20+ times tonight. Cause “are you sure there’s not something wrong, what if she’s sick?”
But she isn’t, she’s just being a baby and babies like to cry when something displeases them, like being taken away from their fun toys to go lay down.
Pepper comes home to Tony and Peter passed out on the couch, exhausted, and it looks like a bomb of bottles, toys, pillows, and sleep clothes went off in the living room. Tony has Peter tucked under his arm. Pepper lays a blanket on top of them and tucks the pair in, heading off to the master bedroom.
If your IronFamily headcanons don’t include Nebula in them as one of Tony’s kids, then I don’t want to talk to you.
Warnings: anxiety, PTSD, school, smartboard random name chooser sound, ableism, please let me know if i missed anything
German class was… well, Peter wasn’t sure what to think of it. On the one hand, he was taking it with Ned, and he was learning some very interesting things, such as the German word for “strong” being “stark,” which Peter had a lot of fun with, calling his mentor Mr. Strong or pronouncing “Stark” the way he learned in German, or even dropping “Herr Stark” once or twice, and there was the furry who chose Wolfgang as his “German name” that he, Ned, and MJ could make fun of behind his back, and, of course, “Moskau,” but on the other hand, there were some less-than-okay things about the whole thing.
Like the fact that the furry took German because Germany was like the furry paradise for reasons Peter couldn’t find out, the fact that the German word for girl was “das Mädchen” and not “die Mädchen” for reasons Peter didn’t want to find out, or the smartboard random name chooser.
It was no secret, especially to Peter’s friends and Mr. Stark, that Peter had anxiety. But it was absolutely humiliating that the very sound of the manner in which several of his teachers called on a student at random could invoke so much fear and terror in him.
It was a smartboard app, allowing teachers to fill text boxes with whatever words they wanted, such as the names of students, and it would randomly pick from the list. There was even an option to either allow someone to be picked more than once, or to eliminate the student’s name after they’d already gone once. Both were terrifying. If he’d gone once in the former scenario, he couldn’t relax. If he hadn’t gone yet in the latter, the terror would just keep going, and increase every time someone else was chosen to present their project or tell the class what their favorite color was.
The low chimes, followed by that piercing “ding!” marking its choice, was all it took for his heart to start racing. Every second was pure, unadulterated torture, and it was so bad he didn’t care if people were staring, or if Flash was laughing at how funny he looked, hunched over, head down, knee bouncing like no tomorrow, hands shaking, shoulders tensed up, breathing erratic. He often wished he’d just go into cardiac arrest right then and there. Being hospitalized sounded a lot better than having to speak again.
The special ed program at his school wasn’t much help. They were all condescending ableists, making Peter feel like it was his fault for having an anxiety attack, making him answer stupid questions about how he was gonna “do better next time.” Peter often wondered if Captain America had done yet another video specifically for this situation and they just scrapped it.
Then there was the fact that they had the “flip your card” system for the special ed students. It was just three cards on a key ring, one green, one yellow, and one red, and as soon as Peter even remotely started “acting up,” the teacher would flip it to yellow so that a passing special ed teacher on their usual patrol of the hallways could look in on him. If it was flipped to red, Peter no longer had a right to be in class. That’s when they took him to their room and made him answer the questions.
Those cards, Peter hated those cards. As if the program itself wasn’t infantilizing and insensitive enough, they brought in a disciplinary system that had long since been debunked and panned mercilessly. While students like Ned hadn’t had the cards since, like, fifth grade, Peter felt like he was forever trapped in elementary school. It made him feel like a kid. A bad kid. A bad kid who couldn’t control himself. He figured maybe they treated him like a baby because he acted like a baby.
Mr. Stark had no idea how ableist they all were. Peter never brought it up. The school would have a lawsuit on their hands in the next twelve seconds and he didn’t want to go through all that trouble.
Every anxiety attack, every time he was marched to their little room, every time he had to answer those insulting questions slowly whittled away at him. He wanted to believe they were just following orders or protocol, but he knew what the consequences of that could be. He never wanted to see that room again for as long as he lived.
This time, thankfully, Peter had managed to excuse himself to the bathroom before he had to listen to any more of the random name chooser sound.
He hated this. He hated himself. What the hell was wrong with him? Just the thought of the smartboard random name chooser was enough to nearly give him a heart attack. And it was… bad… this time. Peter couldn’t stop sweating, his entire body shook all over, his heart felt like it would literally, as in, the actual definition of literally, burst…
He couldn’t just stay in the bathroom. He couldn’t go back to class. He couldn’t go to the special ed program. He needed out. He needed to calm his mind, and his body felt like it would just completely stop working if he had to go through any more of this.
But he couldn’t get calm on his own.
Hands shaking, he pulled out his phone and called Mr. Stark.
Tony wasn’t having a particularly eventful day, just lounging on the couch with Pepper and watching TV. His phone rang. Peter was calling him.
“Is that Peter?” Pepper asked. “Isn’t he supposed to be in school?”
“Yeah, he should be in German right about now,” Tony mused.
“Is something wrong?”
“I don’t know. He told me he had an oral report today and he’d made me help him practice for a solid two hours yester—oh, god!”
“What?” Pepper asked, before immediately realizing her husband’s concern. “Oh.”
“I hope it’s not what I think it is,” Tony said, answering the phone. “Hey, Peter, are you okay?”
“Mr. Stark… please… I can’t… please get me out of here!” Peter said between frantic, anxious breaths. His voice was breathy and high with panic, and he was almost sobbing. He spoke quickly, but not completely unintelligible. “Please… the oral report… I can’t… Mr. Stark… I think I’m dying… please… help… I’m sorry… please…”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Tony said softly. “Where are you? Are you in the special ed room?”
“NO!” Peter sobbed. “No… please… not them… please… I can’t… please don’t tell them!”
Tony’s eyes widened. It sounded like the kid found the program that was supposed to help students like him to be absolutely traumatizing! What the hell was going on there?
“Okay, okay, I won’t get anyone involved if you don’t want me to. I’ll come get you. Just sit tight, stay on the line with me, and breathe,” Tony said. “Where are you?”
“Bathroom,” Peter whispered, still hyperventilating.
“Is Peter okay?” Pepper asked.
“He’s having an anxiety attack,” Tony whispered, covering his phone with his hand. “I’m gonna go get him and bring him back here. You and Morgan just stay right there, we’ll keep our distance so that you aren’t stressed, and I’ll make sure Peter’s okay.” He kissed Pepper on the cheek, patting her belly. Pepper smiled, knowing how much Tony loved to slip in the fact that he was gonna be a dad into his everyday conversations, even though he kind of already was one.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll worry about our daughter; you worry about our son.” She gave him a peck on the nose.
Tony beamed, then turned and hurried out of the room, asking FRIDAY to remind him to look into the school’s special ed program.
After much difficulty and more stress for Peter, Tony managed to retrieve his “son” from school and bring him back to the tower. The whole time, Peter wouldn’t even look at Tony, but Tony wasn’t mad or anything. He’d had anxiety attacks before, anxiety attacks as bad as this one, but he was respectful of Peter’s space and tried his best not to make it worse. The things that calmed Tony down, such as a hug, or someone firmly but gently rubbing his back, could make an anxiety attack for Peter worse, so he resisted the shouting of his protective dad brain to give Peter a bone-crushing hug out of the blue.
Tony gave Peter a glass of water, and now the two sat in the living room, waiting for Peter to fully recover from the whole situation. Pepper had since left (she went out for lunch with Natasha), and Tony still kept his distance. Peter wasn’t hyperventilating anymore, but he was still erratically bouncing his knee, he was hunched over, and his hands were shaking. Tony couldn’t help but notice how similar Peter’s anxious, uh… tics, Tony figured, and habits were to his own. Tony often found himself fumbling with the same wires or other bits of tech for a solid half hour because his hands just wouldn’t stop shaking.
Tony had also been respecting the possible boundary of “maybe talking about what specifically happened might make things worse,” but Peter was still on edge, and clearly holding a lot back.
“Hey, Peter, you uh… wanna talk to me about what happened?”
Peter just let out a shaky breath. It was almost like a sigh, but not relaxed enough to be one.
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Tony said. “But maybe you’d feel comfortable sharing that with someone who’s had his fair share of anxiety attacks.”
“You?” Peter asked incredulously, turning his head to look at his mentor.
“Yeah,” Tony said sympathetically. “It happens more often than you think.”
“Well then, maybe I can,” Peter sighed. “First off, the reason I didn’t want the special ed program involved is… I hate it. I hate it, Mr. Stark! They’re so condescending, a-and they treat the students in their program like children! A lot of them have, like, autism and stuff, you know—n-not that there’s anything wrong with that, but they’re all treated in this infantilizing, humiliating way where they have no agency of their own and, everything they do to end up in that little room is their fault! The special ed teachers constantly patrol the hallways and check in on them and they just can’t get any peace! They make it worse for everyone, including me!”
The look of shock, anger, and disgust in Tony’s hickory brown eyes had Peter taken aback for a second. He did not expect such a subtle but strong reaction.
“What the ever loving fuck? That’s literally the last thing you want in a special ed program,” Tony whispered, ever so softly, but with a lot of feeling.
“What?” Peter asked, unsure if he really just heard Mr. Stark drop the f-bomb of all things.
“Uh, keep going,” Tony encouraged, realizing that the teen had lost his train of thought.
“Right, and anyway, oh, god, it’s so stupid…”
“Have you heard of the smartboard random name chooser?”
“I can’t say I have, but I do recall donating money to a school for new smartboards. They didn’t want my stuff. To each their own, I suppose. You were saying?”
“Well, lots of the teachers at my school use this thing called the random name chooser to randomly call on someone in class. And, oh, god, Mr. Stark, it’s so stupid!”
Peter hid his face in his hands, beginning to sob.
“Hey, hey, whatever it is, it’s not stupid,” Tony said, inching closer to Peter. He was beginning to regret his past affiliations with smartboards.
“But it is!” Peter sobbed.
“Do you wanna stop talking about it? I won’t make you talk about it if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“Mr. Parker does seem to be having another anxiety attack,” FRIDAY pointed out.
“See?” Tony asked. “Just talking about it is making it worse. I won’t put you through that.”
“No, Mr. Stark, if I don’t tell someone about this, it’ll… I don’t know what will happen, but I can’t keep this to myself!”
“I understand, Peter,” Tony said.
“So the sound it makes when it’s choosing names, this little ‘doong, doong, doong, doong, DING!’ it makes… that’s what I hate about it!” Peter continued. “It’s so stupid because… it’s the most innocuous sound, the most non-threatening thing ever and it’s so TERRIFYING! WHY IS IT SO TERRIFYING?”
Peter was bawling. He completely broke down. His heart was pounding like a drum again and he could feel his entire body trembling again.
“Is that why you called?” Tony asked. “Were they using it in your German class?”
Peter nodded, still not looking up. He desperately wished Mr. Stark wouldn’t just sit there and just, oh, he didn’t know, hug him, touch him on the back, even a pat on the head would make him feel a lot better!
“You need a hug?” Tony asked.
I didn’t expect that.
“Please,” Peter whined, allowing Tony to scoop him up in his arms. For a teenage boy, Peter was incredibly light, an unexpected side effect of his spider powers, so Tony nearly tossed Peter into the air when he meant to simply pull him into his arms. Tony instantly remembered, oh, yeah, he’s really light, and readjusted his hold on him, leaning back on the couch.
Peter wailed loudly, gripping the fabric of Tony’s blazer, crying into his chest.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Tony said softly, almost cooed. “It’s not stupid. If it triggers your anxiety that much, then it’s a serious thing and you shouldn’t just overlook it or beat yourself up about ‘getting over it.’ I have my own weird triggers, too.”
Peter sniffled, tightening his grip. “Y-you do?”
“Yeah. You know how I don’t like being handed things? My father always made me hold stuff for him when I wanted to help him work. Sometimes those things were heavy devices or hot metal. It caused me a great deal of pain…” Tony’s hands clenched into fists. “There’s some other stuff, like the news report of my first run with the avengers, or baths…”
“Mainly just… water collecting anywhere. I was, uh…”
Peter felt Mr. Stark shiver under him.
“I was waterboarded.”
“Oh, god. Mr. Stark, I’m so sorry,” Peter said, forgetting for a minute that Mr. Stark was here to help him process his triggers in the first place.
“This isn’t about me, kid,” Tony said, tightening his arms around Peter’s lithe frame. “Right now, I’m here for you, and only you. Do you want me to rub your back? I usually feel better when people do that to me.”
“Rub my back?” Peter asked.
“Like this,” Tony said. He began rubbing Peter’s upper back, particularly around the shoulders, but also right below his neck, in gentle, firm circles. It was almost like a massage. Peter stopped sobbing long enough to let out a legitimate sigh of comfort this time. The initial comfort of Mr. Stark’s gentle touch made him feel… safe.
Tony chuckled. “Does that feel good?”
Peter nodded against his chest.
“Alright,” Tony said. “Just let it out. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
“Mr. Stark, your clothes… I-I’m staining them!” Peter protested, more hot tears falling from his eyes and onto Mr. Stark’s nice blazer and t-shirt in humiliation.
“That’s okay. They’re just clothes. I can wash them. You’ve been under a lot of stress today, and I don’t want to see you bottling those feelings up. I understand that the special ed program shames you for having feelings, but it’s okay to have them. It’s okay to let them out, and if you need to let them out onto my clothes, then so be it.”
“O-okay,” Peter said, reluctantly letting more tears fall.
“That’s it, there you go, let it all out,” Tony said, continuing to apply pressure to Peter’s back.
“I don’t like it!” Peter sobbed. “I don’t like being sad! Can’t we talk about something else? Anything else?”
“No, because then you’re still not letting those feelings out, and they need to get out.”
“Crying is so ugly though! I hate feeling sad!”
“I know, I know… I know it’s not pretty, but it’s fine. You need this.”
“I… feel like a little kid.”
“You feel vulnerable?”
“Yeah, but also most of the time I just need a hug, but I can’t do that at school, so they just shame me…”
“I’m sorry about that. But I got you now.”
“Ich weiß. Danke, Herr Stark.”
“It’s no problem, Peter.”
Tony and Peter stayed like that for almost an hour, the sound of crying and wailing filling the room. Peter eventually stopped crying, but he didn’t want to get up just yet.
Neither did Tony. He kept rubbing Peter’s back, occasionally asking if he should stop, but Peter allowed him to continue. His breathing had slowed, and while he still had a tight grip on Tony, he was calm. He’d cried as much as he needed to, and he was completely content now. That was good enough for him.
Peter was actually falling asleep. Staying up late in preparation for his oral exam and the subsequent anxiety attack and mental breakdown left him physically and emotionally exhausted. The wet spot on Mr. Stark’s shirt wasn’t an issue anymore. It was still there, and Peter did feel a bit embarrassed about it, he felt so much better now. Mr. Stark was warm, his arms were still wrapped around him, and the strong, gentle hand on his back was still there.
Peter had been suffering in silence because of school for so long now. But he figured, as long as he had a strong mentor looking out for him, maybe school wasn’t so bad.
The special ed teacher sat at his desk, about to start his usual patrol. He’d remembered to keep a closer eye on Peter Parker, as he’d gone home early due to an anxiety attack last Thursday. An administrator called him on his office phone, letting him know that a man named Tony Stark was coming to speak with him right now.
He raised an eyebrow. He knew about his relation to Parker, but what could this possibly be about?
Tony flung the door open and stormed in.
“Mr. Stark,” the teacher said, feigning pleasantness. “To what do I owe the—”
“What the hell kind of special education program do you think you’re running?” He slammed his hands on the desk.
“You think you can prey on teenagers and shame them for something they can’t control?” Tony was visibly furious.
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“Don’t play stupid with me!” Tony shouted.
“The students in our program are very happy with the way—”
“No, they are not!” His voice was lower, but more menacing. The special ed teacher gulped, knowing Tony Stark meant business. “I’ve been looking into this for a while now, and I have overwhelming evidence that all you’re doing for these students is making their lives worse. None of them are happy here. They feel dehumanized. You treat them like children—in the most insulting way possible, I might add. You treat them like freaks. You punish them for something they have no control over, and you tell them that their reactions are wrong. You blame them, and only them, and the only reason they struggle with whatever they have is because you and these other vile scumbags make it so. And the worst part? You get away with it. You’ve been getting away with it for far too long now, and now it’s time to pay the piper. You think these teenagers have no agency of their own and that’s why you get away with it, huh?”
“Mr. Stark, they really don’t have any common sense or maturity; they might as well still be toddlers, and—why are you smiling like that?”
“You and I are gonna have a lot of fun,” Tony said, his eye almost twitching, “with your little program.”
“Ich weiß. Danke, Herr Stark.”- I know. Thank you. Mr. Stark.
don’t tag as sta////r//ker blease and thank you
imagine Peter on a senior trip to Tennessee, and he comes across Harley. The two talk and realize they both know Tony Stark, and they become friends because of course Peter doesn’t stay put with his class but strays away to see him. And once Peter’s back home Harley picks him up in his 1969 Camaro that Tony gave him, and they visit the Avengers compound even though Happy tells them they can’t visit right then.
Peter: I love you dad
Tony, tearing up: Fu-Fucking nerd
Tony, to the group on titan: alright listen up you little shits
Tony, immediately after: no not you pete your a literal angel and were delighted to have you here
Tony: even if you are a stowaway
Tony: you’re grounded by the way
Tony: wOW I can’t believe I would commit mass genocide to protect Peter
The Rouges: I don’t know stark that’s a little extreme even for you, it’s just some ki-
Peter, stumbling in with a big smile tripping over air, walking into a wall, before rambling happily: mister stark! You’d never guess what happened today, me and ned finally were able to buy the millennium falcon lego set, mj totally told flash off, I nailed my maths test, and I stopped three burglaries!
The Rouges unable to keep from smiling: wOW we caN’T BELIEVE wE WOULD Give oUR liVES FOR PETER
Peter: do you guys wanna see a butterfly?
Tony: Peter i swear if you-
Peter: *yeets butter across the room*