Avengers, but mostly Irondad

Tony, not paying attention: Yeah

Peter: Say please

Tony: Please.

Peter: *jumps into Tony’s arms*

Peter and Shuri:

Peter and Shuri: *cheer*

Tony: Peter!

Tony: PETER!

Tony: *sigh*

Tony: THIS BITCH EMPTY

“He’s a literal American icon, he has entire MUSEUMS dedicated to him, and not to mention he smells like apple pie and freedom-“

“Tony-“

“-and it’s not just the body and the god damn “lay myself on the wire” attitude, Pep, he literally came back from the dead to SAVE NEW YORK-“

“Tony-“

“The whole world loves him! They practically worship the ground he walks on-“

“TONY!”

The genius paused, looking up at the video chat screen for the first time since he started his rant. Pepper was staring him straight in the eye, looking slightly weary.

“I didn’t ask if the whole world thinks he’s a good person, I asked if you do.”

That made him freeze. It was one of the rare times Tony Stark was speechless, in front of a beautiful woman no less.

“I- I don’t know,” Tony sighed. “I mean we both said all those things, and there was this unspoken agreement that it was the tesseract, but I don’t know if it was really the influence that made me think those things or if I always thought them, and it just helped me to say them. So then I wonder the same about him. And we both just seemed to move on, but there was never any apologies or any sort of kiss and make up. Not that I want to kiss him. Or ever apologize. But I still kinda expected one. I’m used to getting apologies. I mean yes, usually it’s when we sue for defamation of character, but-“ Tony’s head suddenly snapped up to look at Pepper, eyes alight with idea.

“Tony, no-“ Pepper groaned.

“We could sue him! I mean I know it’s not the typical response, and America might hate us for suing the the closest thing to a living American flag, but it could work! You know, defamation of character and all...”

“Tony.” Pepper looked at him hard, voice strict. “We are not suing Steve Rogers for an apology.”

“But Pepperrrrr, it would never even go to court, just send a message! And imagine the look on his face-“

“Absolutely, not Tony.”

“But-“

“No.”

“We could-“

“No.”

“Just-“

“No.”

“Fine,” Tony said bitterly, tossing his hands into the air, “I won’t personally sue Steve Rogers.”

Pepper kneaded her brow. “Tony, it is very important to me that I hear you say no one will be suing Steve. Not a proxy, not a company, and most certainly not you. Got it?”

Tony stared at her, biting his lip.

She stared back, eyes narrowing.

He fidgeted.

“You. Are. Impossible!” Pepper huffed, collapsing back onto the bed. Tony grinned.

“But you loveeee me.”

“Yes, and I have to live with that every day,” Pepper muttered, rubbing her eyes.

“Hey!”

“I sincerely hope that you are not planning any method of forcing an apology out of Captain America, because I’m coming home tomorrow and so help you if I find any contracts or weird designs-“

“You’re coming home?” Tony perked up, interrupting before her guesses hit too close to home.

Pepper smiled, albeit slightly wearily. “Well, to 12.5% of my home.”

“I might be able to throw in and extra percent if you agree to some naughtiness when you get here.”

“I’m your CEO, Tony. I can’t trade sexual favors on company time.”

“I love it when you talk business. Say parsimonious.”

Pepper rolled her eyes, unable to keep the smile off her face.

“You know, if you drop the lawsuit talk, I may be able to draw up some sort of contract involving other gratification.”

Tony nearly dropped his screwdriver at his girlfriend’s suggestive expression.

“Why Ms. Potts,” he purred, “does this mean the briefcase will be making an appearance? I quite like the briefcase. Very sexy.”

She shook her head, a fond expression accompanying her soft smile.

“Go to bed, Tony. And get something to eat. We’ll talk when I see you tomorrow.”

“I can think of far more interesting activities than talking.”

“You need sleep for those, too. And so help me God, if I find out you blatantly ignore me and stay in your lab you will never see another briefcase again.”

Tony chuckled. “I love you, Pepper.”

“I love you, too, Tony.”

Part One

The second Saturday of the month was what Peter referred to as his “absolute most favoritist day”. These designated days were long, bright, adventurous, sugar filled travel excursions led by none other than the wildly famous Tony Stark, his mentor. Experiences included, but we’re not limited to: a wild, gut wrenching, high stakes circus in Russia with the best cotton candy Peter had ever tasted; dangerous, heart-pounding white water rafting in one of Pennsylvania’s most notorious destinations; the fresh, enormous, authentic marketplace exclusive to Egypt “Khan Al-Khalili”; adrenaline-pumping zip lining over real, living alligators in the Amazon; and so much more. Each weekend was somehow more exciting than the last, and as the second Saturday of August drew to a close, Peter couldn’t help but think it had been the best yet. Sure, it wasn’t as glamorous as the red carpet premiere in California, but the junk-filled laden tents of the Maryland State Fair had offered a homey country vibe that was irreplicable.

The countryside zoomed by as Tony drove on the highway back to New York. The road was illuminated with the light the Audi R8 shined, the corn on the side of the road bending and blurring with the speed. However, Peter couldn’t help but think it looked like it was waving goodbye. The boy rested his head on his hand, leaning against the car door as he looked longingly out the window. Such nights shouldn’t have to end.

Peter took a breath, appreciating the quiet noise of tires burning along pavement, whispers of wind, and soft tunes of music. His brain immediately recrafted the eventful night, filling his head with memories of sticky fingers as they pulled at cotton candy, heart-racing drops on roller coasters, rough hands ruffling his curls, and bursts of excitement at beating a genius at ring toss. He remembered the way the skyline looked at night, all lit up with life as if beckoning Peter from atop the ferris wheel. And best of all, the feeling of utmost peace that came with being near Tony.

“You good, kid? Tired?” Tony interrupted Peter’s thoughts, glancing at him with raised eyebrows. He shook his head.

“I’m fine, just thinking. Some people don’t have a constant need to talk, especially about themselves,” Peter teased with a crooked grin.

“Please, who wouldn’t want to talk about me? Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist AND devilishly handsome.”

“Let’s not forget an ego about the size of North America,” Peter laughed, his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

“Got me there, spider boy.”

“Seriously though,” Peter rubber his neck, “thank you for today, Mr. Stark.” He was never quite sure how to show just how much the nights out meant to him.

“If you really want to thank me, you can stop calling me Mr. Stark. Makes me feel old,”

“You are old, Mr. Stark,” Peter smirked.

Tony looked at him, hand on chest, offended.

“Take it back!”

“I thought you wanted me to be more honest,” Peter batted his eyelashes innocently.

“I meant if you were sick or injured or DYING!”

The boy rolled his eyes.

“Alright, well then I’m DYING to let you know that you’re old.”

Tony remained unamused.

“You know I could pull over this car right now and leave you to live out the plot of Children of the Corn.”

Peter snorted, “You love me too much to do that.”

“Damn, you’re right. Plus, you’re what, 12? 13? You could never survive on your own,” Tony laughed, patting the teenager on the shoulder. Peter swatted his hand away.

“I am not that young! I’m practically an adult!”

“Mhm, you wanna make another old man joke? I can go all night, spiderbaby,” Tony flashed a devious grin.

“Alright, alright, I call truce.” Peter threw his arms up, trying not to smile.

“Truce accepted.”

He grinned back, stifling a yawn as the long day caught up to him.

“Sure you aren’t tired, Pete?” Tony asked slowly, one eyebrow cocked.

“Yeah, I’m totally a-a-wakeee,” Peter yawned, cursing himself for being the absolute worst liar.

“That was realllll convincing, kid.”

“Seriously! I can make it home!”

Tony eyed the time.

“Woah, it’s way past your bedtime. Sorry, I meant to get on the road a bit earlier. What do you say we stop for the night? I’m sure there’s a hotel around here somewhere.”

Peter’s heart nearly stopped. No, no, no, no. He couldn’t do that. Not now.

“No! I mean- er, it’s only 11:30 we could totally make it back!” Peter argued, desperate undertones slipping into his vocalization. Tony stared at him.

“It’d be morning by the time we did, and May would kill me if you slept through an entire day.”

“But I don’t have any pajamas!” Peter interjected- a final attempt to dissuade the man. Tony merely chuckled.

“If that’s what you so concerned about, I have a suitcase of emergency travel stuff in the trunk. And get this, it includes PJs.”

Part One

It was a Monday when Peter came back to life. He would never forget the weekday because he saw it as the universe’s own cruel irony. Monday’s usually sucked in and of themselves, but being resurrected and having to cope with the events of The Snap all at once was a whole other level of unfairness.

It was also a Monday when Peter returned to school. Everyone had been given a full week of break after returning to cope with the events which had occurred courtesy of Thanos. Sure, 50% of the entire population had been wiped out just a couple months prior, but surely a week would be enough to get everyone back into their routines. Tony, however, disagreed and took each hour of the seven day break to have Peter inspected mentally and physically by experts from around the world. When he passed each test with flying colors, Tony reluctantly agreed to allow him to return to school with the rest of the student body. Of course, the agreement was contingent upon Peter continuing to attend psychotherapy.

It was every Monday after that when Peter was scheduled to see a therapist. Each session passed in the blink of an eye with smiles and good natured conversation. In fact, they seemed to mirror the way most of his days went. Pleasantries, smiles, attempts at normalcy all adding up to nothing. Overall, daytime was all right. However, when the sun set and Peter went to bed, that was when the real issues began. Nightmares, horrible nightmares plagued Peter each evening. He’d wake up in cold sweats, screaming, crying, and just wishing for it all to be over. He’d do anything for it to be over.

Immediately after these nightmares, Peter would feel guilt gnawing inside of him. He didn’t have any right to feel this way. All the other Avengers had played a much bigger role in the defeat of Thanos and they were fine. Once again, Peter Parker was the weak one. Even as an Avenger.

The dreams became his secret. He denied having any sleep issues to his therapist, and even went so far as to start sleeping outside to prevent May from waking. He knew if he could just keep it under wraps for a few months it would go away, it had to. So there was really no reason to concern anyone or show just how weak Spiderman really was.

It was yet another Monday when his therapist declared that Peter seemed as if he was benefiting from getting back into his normal routine with minimal interference. She suggested cutting back therapy sessions to once every couple months or so, depending on how he felt. After nearly six months of sessions, Peter immediately agreed. He saw it as an opportunity to earn back the trust of the other Avengers, who had yet to call him in for another mission. Surely if they heard how well he was doing they’d dial him in. A month passed without a single mission offer.