#celestial-irondad

Chapter One: Trouble is Cooking

by celestial-irondad 

1, 225 words 

1/?

based on @funkylittlebidiot’s chat post about ironstrange

edit: click on the chapter title to read it on ao3!!!

----

There are two sides to Dr Stephen Vincent Strange. On one hand, he can be holed up in the Sanctum Sanctorum for weeks on end, just reading book after book after book. He’ll have a bitter cup of tea, no sugar, right beside him as he reads in his rocking chair, with the polluted air of New York City penetrating into his living quarters. 

On the other hand, sometimes all he wants to do is to bring chaos to the lovely New York City. He usually has a plan ready whenever these episodes happen, something to spice up the petty lives of the Avengers. For example, Stephen’s currently in the Avengers’ quinjet, tied up like some rope bunny, on his way to the Avengers’ Compound. It may not seem like it, but everything is falling into place. Stephen’s capture was planned, his trip to the Compound was planned. He’s going to destroy the Compound from the inside and these measly superheroes won’t even see it coming. 

Of course, Stephen made it slightly difficult for the Avengers to capture him. He’s not a complete idiot. He fought with whoever was present for about an hour, only showing off the simple spells he had learnt. Nothing more was needed with these superheroes. He could have gone on, too, if it weren’t for the fact that he had a time schedule to keep. 

The moment the Compound comes into view, Stephen is momentarily winded from the sheer beauty of it. The architecture is breathtaking and whoever designed it deserves a golden, gleaming medal. But before he can make a comment on it, he’s carried into the building by one very strong Captain America, who doesn’t seem to break a sweat. 

‘Did I not gain weight?’ Stephen questions himself internally. ‘All I had been doing this past month was eat, sleep and shit. Surely, I had gained some weight?’

He doesn’t dwell much on it because he’s forced out of his thoughts when he’s unceremoniously dumped into a very hard wooden chair. He groans at the ache growing at his rear end, cursing at the existence of magic binding ropes. He sighs soon after, his mood quickly turning sour. This was supposed to be a fun little excursion, a break from being cooped up in the Sanctum Sanctorum for the past two months. Why did the Avengers have to ruin everything? What kind of sick joy did they obtain from this? All Stephen wanted, was a little explosion, a small firework celebration as the Compound burned.

“Is the interrogation part going to begin?” The sorcerer drawls, looking utterly disinterested, even yawning to prove his point. The Black Widow steps forward threateningly, with her knives gleaming in the light before she’s promptly stopped by Captain America. 

The doctor smirks. Is it this easy to rile these heroes up? 

The Black Widow stabs her knife into the armrest of Stephen’s wooden chair, looking dangerous. “Here’s how it’s going to go. We’re going to ask some questions and you’re going to answer them.”

Stephen raises his eyebrows and closes his eyes as he nods. These superheroes are cute if they think he’ll spill all his secrets just because they asked him to.

“What are the sorcerer’s plans?” Captain America asks arms crossed over his chest, trying to look more intimidating, obviously to no avail. Stephen just looks even more unimpressed, if possible. 

“Oh, mine?” He asks back, looking around as if deep in thought. “Hmm… I don’t really know. I was planning to make myself a nice cup of tea after this, but I think that may have to be postponed.”

The Black Widow drags her knife along the length of the armrest. The doctor glances at the action, not bothered in the slightest. It would take much, much more to successfully instil fear into him. Her little tricks may work on the normal people she usually interrogates, but not Stephen. Really, is this the best she could do? Stephen is the Sorcerer Supreme and he feels slightly offended that the Black Widow thinks she can scare him by just using mere knives. 

Please, he’s seen scarier in his dreams.

“What is the—” before Captain America can finish repeating the same question, the door to the interrogation room slides open. And the sorcerer finds himself out of breath for the second time that day. 

Stephen is absolutely sure that the man who walked into the room is not of this world. He’s wearing the tightest black shirt that clings to his body in the most delicious of ways, complementing his muscles beautifully. His sweats are too loose for Stephen’s liking, but well, he can’t win everything, now can he? The man has an oil stain on his perfectly sculpted face, smudged right below his eye, right on his cheekbone, highlighting it. His lips are quirked into a stunning smile, his hair a lovely shade of brown. Stephen isn’t quite close enough to see the colour of his eyes, but he’s sure they are also as enchanting as the rest of him. 

“Hey,” the ethereal man says, pausing at the sight of Stephen tied up. He pauses a little too long, eyeing the villain up and down, clearly liking what he sees. “Oh, hello to you, too. Anyway, stop by the lab if you want your suit patched up, Nat. I have some upgrades in mind, too.”

Oh, his voice. Such an angelic sound. The sorcerer thinks he can listen to it forever. Forget being cooped up in the Sanctum Sanctorum reading his ancient books, Stephen wants to be cooped up in this man’s room. 

The doctor kicks Captain America in the shin, uncaring that he doesn’t get a dramatic reaction. “Wait, what? This is your boss?”

The man in red, white and blue frowns, unfolding his arms. “What? No? Tony’s not our—”

Right at this moment, a golden portal appears, blazing as Wong steps through it. The assistant falters at the sight of the people gathered, but quickly casts a spell that shields him from the rest and casually starts to untie Stephen. The Avengers are in a state of shock, but before they can move, Wong seizes the opportunity to momentarily paralyse them. Their faces are varying degrees of shock and fury when they realise what happened, but before they can shout, Stephen speaks.

“Why have we been wasting our time with these idiots,” Stephen cries, pointing to everyone in the room, besides his angel, “when this being has been roaming around the halls of this building? Oh, Vishanti! This has been a colossal waste of my time!”

Wong mumbles an incoherent reply, before speaking up. “So… I’m guessing we won’t be blowing the building up today?”

Stephen looks at Wong incredulously, rubbing his sore arms before using a little spell to knock the occupants in the room unconscious. He catches Tony right before he hits the ground, cradling the body close to his chest as if Tony was a delicate piece of china. The rest of the Avengers drop to the floor like sacks of potatoes, creating ‘thunking’ sounds that make Stephen smile.

“Of course not, Wong,” Stephen rolls his eyes, hoisting Tony into his arms, carrying him bridal style. “Let’s go back to the Sanctum. We’ll blow this place up another time. I have important things to do, now.”

----

hello! i hope you enjoyed this little fic! maybe i’ll write a second part to this, who knows? anyway, please reblog if you liked it, give me some comments? 

*this is my first time writing ironstrange and i dont usually write romantic ish relationships (im hermit crab irondad, not hermit crab ironeveryone), but i hope its good enough..? 

by celestial-irondad

1, 095 words

so...

i should be studying but i wrote this instead. like, i have exams tmr but i wrote this.

anyway, i mixed this prompt:

with @just-the-daydreamer’s prompt:

@one-irrelevant-ghost i hope you don’t mind me using your prompt!

enjoy!

——

Peter had a shirt. Of course he did, but this one was special. Aunt May gave it to him as a joke, cackling as she teased him to wear it in front of Tony since he idolised the man so much.

Obviously, Peter swore to never wear it in front of his mentor, ever. Then his mentor had to ruin all of his plans and found out about it after he accidentally left it lying around. Tony teased him about it for weeks. Weeks!

After that though, Peter hid that stupid shirt like his life depended on it. Until...

The rogue Avengers were being pardoned. Mr. Stark, being the good man he is, agreed to let them live in the tower again. They were going to have a meeting sometime this week to discuss the living arrangements, which were entirely up to the billionaire.

Peter idolised the Avengers, but after hearing what the captain did to his mentor, he decided that his loyal allegiance was with Mr. Stark.

——

“What time is it, F.R.I.D.A.Y?” Peter asked groggily, sitting up on his soft mattress, rubbing his eyes.

“It is currently 7:34 in the morning.”

“Yeah? Where’s Mr. Stark?” The teenager shuffled out of bed, slipping his feet into fluffy slippers Ms. Potts got for him and trudged to his bathroom to freshen up.

“Boss is in the meeting room on level 86,” the Irish voice answered.

Peter sighed, making quick work of brushing his teeth. A quick glance in the mirror made him realise he was wearing his Iron Man shirt. The same one Aunt May got him.

Then, he decided against changing and picked up the glasses meant for his sensory overload and took the lift down to the meeting room.

He didn’t even have to ask F.R.I.D.A.Y for entrance, the door was unlocked and he easily slipped inside. Looking through the tinted glasses, he saw all the Avengers— both rogue and not, staring blankly at him.

The spider-ling smoothed his left hand over the print on his shirt, deliberately shifting their attention to that instead. He shuffled to Mr. Stark, clambering onto his lap after the older man reached out to him.

And what a sight the duo were.

The genius looked well-groomed, goatee trimmed properly, suit and tie fitted snugly around his body. He finished his look with his iconic tinted glasses, colour matching his tie.

Then, there was little ol’ Peter, curled up on the man’s lap, in sweats and an Iron Man shirt proudly on display, looking unkept and tired. The glasses he had on was also tinted, although nobody could see Peter’s eyes, unlike the billionaire’s.

“Tony, this is a private meeting, not for random children to listen in on,” Steve said. He sounded curious, and a little fond, even though both mentee and mentor had no idea why.

The engineer didn’t reply, instead, he watched as the kid drifted off to sleep in his lap, clutching part of his expensive suit jacket in a fist. It was no doubt going to wrinkle, but Tony couldn’t find it in him to care.

“Did you somehow acquire a child while we were gone?” Clint asked, genuinely curious. “Did his mother out of the blue dump him to you? Because that kid couldn’t have come from the time we were gone.”

Tony flared at the archer through his glasses, eyes somehow piercing and sharp. “Don’t talk about his parents.”

Natasha glanced at the child in his lap. “So it is your kid then? Same hair, probably same eyes.”

“Can we quickly wrap this meeting up?” The engineer snapped, voice not too loud, though. He didn’t want to risk waking the kid up.

The meeting went on as requested, although most of the pardoned Avengers kept glancing at Peter.

——

Tony burst into Peter’s room, no knocking or whatever. The teen jumped up to the ceiling from the unintentional scare, papers flying around from the movement.

“Suit up, Pete, Capsicle wants to have a group training session,” Tony announced, bending over to pick up the papers on the ground. “Meet you out in five.”

Before Peter had a chance to say anything, his mentor placed the papers back on the desk, closing the door on the way out.

Five minutes later, Peter felt ridiculous in his spidey suit, because he was wearing the Iron Man shirt over it. He knew he looked ridiculous, he saw himself in the mirror, but he didn’t really care. All he wanted to do was to prove a point. To himself, or to the Avengers, it didn’t really matter.

Once he entered the training room, Uncle Rhodey burst out laughing, along with Mr. Stark. The rest of the Avengers were quiet, unsure of what to feel or think.

“Let’s get this party started,” Peter cheered, as if he didn’t feel as ridiculous as he looked.

——

All the Avengers were gathered in the common area, watching a movie. It was Steve’s idea to bring the squad closer, to mend the broken bonds between them.

Peter had gone as Peter, not Spider-Man, because the suit was a little tiring to wear, and he wanted to feel his shirt against his skin.

Yes. The shirt. At the rate he was wearing it, Peter was going to have to invest in new ones. The print of Iron Man on the shirt was getting washed off, as it wasn’t stitched on and the quality wasn’t fantastic.

Peter didn’t seem to mind it, but Tony really wanted to get him a newer, better shirt. The kid wore that shirt around the Avengers religiously, as if he suddenly didn’t have any others when they were involved.

Tony also couldn’t help but feel happy whenever Peter wore that shirt with pride and joy. He knew what his kid was doing, parading in his Iron Man shirt.

The genius had been afraid, when the Avengers were pardoned and was supposed to move in. With how the boy acted around Steve, Tony thought he would lose him just because the kid liked the good and righteous cap better.

Then his adorable, innocent and pure kid walked in on the meeting, wearing that shirt and those sweats and the tinted glasses. And when he brought everyone’s attention to the shirt by running his hand over the image, Tony nearly cried because that was basically a declaration of his loyalty.

by celestial-irondad

part one/six

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six

614 words

this is for you @officialtonystarkprotectionsquad, because you make me smile with your tags and likes and comments and you just really make my day! 💓💓 thank you 💙💙

——

one.

Tony was in the kitchen, all his electronics displayed out in front of him, actually doing work. The other Avengers and the kid had gone out on a simple rescue mission, a quick break in and out kind of thing.

He would have gone, but after weeks of neglecting SI paperwork, the amount of things he had to do piled up. Pepper, of course, had absolutely put her foot down when Tony offered to go in place of Steve, saying that it was his punishment for always putting SI last.

Now, Tony was bitterly reading through and signing his assigned paperwork. He had it easy, Pepper was the one doing the hard work, filtering the things Tony had to do.

Really, Tony Stark should be happy he got himself a Pepper Potts.

“Boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y interrupted the billionaire’s internal monologue, “Ms. Romanoff has called using the emergency ‘someone has a boo boo’ protocol. Patching her through now.”

Fear thrummed in Tony’s veins. What if Peter got injured? Shit, why hadn’t he just dealt with paperwork when needed so he could’ve went with Peter?

“Tony, I need you to prepare the med bay—”

He didn’t even let the ex-assassin finish. “Where’s Peter? Is he injured? He better be okay, or I swear to—”

“Tony? Tony,” Natasha interrupted his ramblings. “Peter’s with us, he’s got some injuries—”

The billionaire cursed. This was why he wanted to go on missions with Peter. Who else could protect his spider-baby as well as he could? Who else can shield the teenage boy from the big, bad, awful world? Who else can swoop in to save the day like Tony could?

He faintly heard Natasha ramble on about Steve being injured, but he was too busy rushing down to the med bay, preparing all the equipment that may be needed.

When Natasha told Tony they were a few minutes away from reaching the tower, he rushed back up to smooth their landing.

The first person to come out of the Quinjet was Steve, who was leaning heavily on Natasha. He was beaten up thoroughly, bruises and cuts littering his body. He had a black eye, and a limp. He was hunched over, abdomen having suffered from injury.

“Where’s Peter?” Was the first thing that came tumbling out of his mouth. Shit. He should’ve at least showed concern towards Steve, but his mind was focused only on his kid, who was not in sight.

Natasha sighed. “He’s sleeping in the Quinjet.”

The billionaire hastily told the duo that Ms. Cho was waiting for them in the med bay, before rushing into the jet.

In there, Carol had his kid sprawled out on her lap. Peter had a cut on his face, it was deep enough to raise concerns but Tony already had worries before seeing his spider-baby. Seeing his kid injured, no matter how small, had him seeing red.

He rushed over quietly, and Carol stopped running her fingers through Peter’s hair to look up at him.

“He’s resting now,” Carol said simply, “he will wake up and he will be fine.”

The thing was, Peter shouldn’t have had scratches at all. He had a whole league of superheroes who were supposed to protect him, and he had a sixth sense to warn him from danger. How could he still get hurt?

Tony scooped up the teen with strong arms wordlessly. Without a second glance to the woman who probably did her best to protect his kid, he went down to the med bay.

And if the Avengers talk about him favouring Peter, Tony doesn’t have to know, because he’d definitely deny it.

hello!! im SO SO sorry i took so long to write this prompt, i havent been feeling myself lately, but i wanted to write something after two months, so here! 

i would like to tag @technically-a-little-dragon because i hope this makes you smile :) and @officialtonystarkprotectionsquad because you always support me!

(click on the title to read on ao3)

——

Peter’s Camera

——

Tony is one of the best people to photograph, in Peter’s opinion. Once the genius gets into the mood, there isn’t much that can be done to stop or distract him, which makes him the perfect candidate to photograph. Peter has gotten snaps of him where sparks are surrounding him as if he’s some kind of angel descending from heaven or where he’s sleeping peacefully after days of intense creating, with Dum-e prodding him but to get no reaction in return. 

Peter got the camera from Ben as a birthday present, a small second-hand Canon camera. It was old, a little broken, but with his genius brain and some stray parts he found in a dumpster, Peter managed to fix it within a night. However, it was at the expense of neglecting his homework, which he had to rush through the next morning. He didn’t care if the camera had buttons that weren’t working or if it glitched at the worst timings— the camera was Peter’s camera, gifted by his Uncle Ben, and that was all that mattered. 

The camera rarely left Peter’s being since he got it, so it was usually always accessible. After he became Spiderman, Peter would bring it on patrol, taking scenic pictures of the city or himself in action. He takes pictures of anything and everything and has to transfer the pictures to his computer every month because of how quickly he fills the memory card. 

Maybe it was because he didn’t talk about it, or maybe it was because he only took pictures of people when they weren’t looking, but nobody has found out about his hobby yet. He isn’t ashamed of it, just doesn’t see the need to talk about it when he already has so many things going on in his life. Peter wouldn’t deny it if someone found out about it someday, but for now, he likes that photography is his little secret. 

——

Tony isn’t sure what he’s looking at. 

Is that a camera from the 1970s? Do those still exist? What on earth is this doing in his lab? 

Frowning unconsciously, he picks the camera up, feeling it in his hands, examining it like some specimen. Just as he’s about to put the camera down and leave it, his finger brushes over a button, showing the pictures in the memory card. Eyes widening with mild shock, Tony clicks through the pictures of his family.

He sees himself, surrounded by tools, the light illuminating his face, making him seem otherworldly. He smiles at the picture of Ned, in which he’s grinning at Lego, with his face stuffed full with food. He huffs out a laugh when a picture of Harley teaching Morgan how to use his potato guns pops up and snorts when a picture of MJ smiling softly at a bird shows up. The billionaire snickers at the pictures of Pepper, who looks like the CEO she is as she glares at Clint and Scott or when she’s reprimanding grown adults (see: The Avengers) about safety and rules. 

Tony lets out a tiny gasp when he sees Natasha, the notorious Black Widow, smiling softly at a kitten. He chuckles lowly when the picture of Thor, on the verge of tears at the sight of a mouse, appears. And he smirks when he sees Bruce, who looked like he was in the middle of panicking, with a wildly out-of-control specimen in the background. He beams as he sees Bucky and Steve, roleplaying a scene in a book to Morgan, who has a wide grin on her chubby face. 

All these pictures, yet not one of Peter. Could it be that… this camera was his? 

Of course, it’s his. Whose else could it be? 

Tony sets the camera back onto the table, dialling Happy as he exits the lab. 

“Let’s go camera shopping.” 

——

“Boss, where do you even find the time for photography?” Happy asks as he begrudgingly follows Tony into the camera shop. Why was he always dragged into stuff he didn’t want to do? Better yet, since when did Tony like photography?

Tony rolls his eyes, not that Happy could see. “You wouldn’t get it. Now, which camera do you think is best?”

Happy gapes at the billionaire, looking to and from between Tony and the cameras on display. “How would I— Why would you think—”

“Oh, look at this… Leica S… Typ 007?” Tony sounds unsure— unusual, but not unexpected since this was something he wasn’t familiar with. “What? What does this mean?”

Based on what he knows, this camera is for Peter. Tony cares about him so much that he’d willingly go out to buy him stuff and risk himself running into paparazzi. Sighing in resignation, Happy glances through the specs and the prices of the cameras because Tony obviously wouldn’t and if he accidentally buys a $27k camera, then Peter will definitely freak out. 

“Boss, look at the price,” Happy sighs again, “do you really think Peter would accept this?”

Tony almost had whiplash from how fast he turned his head to face Happy at the sound of Peter’s name. “How did you know I was getting this for the kid?”

Happy rolls his eyes, walking past the nervous saleswoman who had been staring at them with a wobbly smile for the entire time they’ve been at the store. He picks up a relatively light camera, something he knows Peter would like and shows it to Tony. The clueless billionaire takes the camera, inspecting it as if he knows everything about it and nods approvingly. 

——

Tony isn’t going to lie. He’s a little excited and a little nervous— something completely new from what he usually feels when gifting. He did snoop around in his camera, after all. 

Jumping a little when the doors to his lab open suddenly, Tony tightly clutches the box in his hands, forcing himself to face the sweet, sweet teenager and hopes he won’t get mad. 

“Hello, Mr Stark!” Peter greets with a chirp in his voice, beaming at the billionaire. “So, I was thinking about some updates I want to do for the—”

Tony interrupts him before the kid can immerse him into his ideas as well. “Pete, I have something for you.”

Innocent, brown eyes bore into his and Tony offers him a nervous smile. He beckons Peter over with a wave of his hand and forces the wrapped box into small arms. The teen cocks his head to one side, looking at him in mild confusion and all Tony’s thinking is, ‘why is he so cute?’

He motions for him to open his very impromptu gift, uncharacteristically wringing his hands in anticipation. Peter gently undoes the tape holding the wrapping paper in place, unwrapping it diligently, unlike how it was wrapped. 

“Mr— Mr Stark!” Peter splutters as soon as he sees the camera. “This— isn’t this too much? You already give me an allowance on top of my salary as an intern. I can’t—”

Tony grins, secretly happy that Peter isn’t angry with him for snooping around and discovering his secret. He frowns playfully, sitting on his hands so that the teen wouldn’t be able to force his gift back. “Well, your camera is an ancient relic, and we can’t have that in my very futuristic house, now can we? Besides, why didn’t you get a new one if you had the money?”

Peter smiles, a little forlorn, a little reminiscent. “Uncle Ben gave me that camera and I just never really thought of upgrading it.”

“Hey,” the billionaire holds back a wince at the mention of Ben, knowing it was a sensitive topic. “You can display the camera in your room, no need to get rid of it. Heck, I’ll even make a glass display box for it if you want.”

The teenager smiles again, this time a little brighter, happier. He hugs the camera to his chest, before shyly thanking Tony, as if the billionaire checked the price before paying for it. 

A few weeks later, after Family Friday Night, Tony finds a printed picture of the whole family— Avengers and Non-Avengers alike— sleeping in the makeshift blanket fort, on his table. And if he encases it with a handmade frame, hanging it up where everybody can see, then it’s nobody’s business but his. 

——

based on this post:

@elizabetharte i hope you don’t mind!

mine:

by celestial-irondad

part two/six

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six

610 words

——

two.

Tony loves his coffee, to the point where it gets a little annoying.

He has a special mug just for his coffee and his coffee machines— yes, machines, as in plural— cost at least a few thousand dollars per machine.

It was overwhelming.

The billionaire was also protective of his coffee. Sure, you could use his coffee machine, the really good one on his personal floor, but if anyone took his mug of coffee...

Let’s just say, it wouldn’t end well for them.

“Morning,” Rhodey mumbled, shuffling into the kitchen with half-lidded eyes. Tony glanced up at his best friend, offering a small smile before resuming whatever he was doing before.

The colonel reached out to grab Tony’s mug of coffee, but before his hand even reached the handle, Tony’s own hand shot out to grabs his. Brown eyes bored into the colonel’s, intense enough to give him the shudders.

The room was eerily silent as they waited for Tony to scream, like he did when Steve took his coffee. But, the billionaire looked pretty calm.

“Get your own coffee, Rhodes. This is mine.”

Rhodey couldn’t decide if angry and loud or angry and silent Tony was scarier.

The colonel walked to the coffee machine, tiredness erased by the fear coursing through his veins. Steve and Natasha resumed reading on the couch in the living room, with Clint and Scott playing a card game in the corner.

Carol and Valkyrie say on the same bean bag, looking too close to be just friends. Thor and Bruce were the same, although they looked ridiculous considering their bulky frames and the size of a typical bean bag.

Everybody seemed to be in their own world, but when a certain clumsy, brown-eyed teen walked in, everyone in the room looked up.

For once, the teen wasn’t his bubbly and lively self. He had bags under his eyes, walking with a hunch. The poor boy looked like death itself, dragging his feet across the floor into the kitchen.

Tony furrowed his eyebrows at the sight, worry written all over his face. Everyone was silent as dragged himself into Tony’s awaiting arms.

“Oh, Pete,” Tony whispered, carrying Peter onto his lap. “It’s okay baby, I’m almost done with work. Then, we’ll go back to my room and you’ll get some rest, yes?”

Peter only whimpered his response. As Tony rushed to get his work done, Peter reached out to grab his mentor’s mug. Before anyone could warn him to stop, Peter brought the mug of coffee up to his lips and took a sip.

The whole level was silent, as if waiting for Tony to explode, but the billionaire didn’t seem to notice. Peter kept taking occasional sips from the mug and Rhodey stood by the coffee machine, muttering about favouritism.

“Take it easy with the coffee, kiddo,” Tony didn’t even look up, going through his paperwork like a rocket launching into the sky.

Steve abandoned his sketch book to gale at Tony. “I took a sip the other day and you nearly killed me! One! Sip! A singular! Sip!”

Tony levels Steve with a glare. “Quiet. Peter’s not feeling well.”

Rhodey mumbles something about Tony being a ‘dad’ to himself, but he wasn’t really mumbling and it really wasn’t to himself. The people in the room snickers, and murmurs of agreement could be heard.

Tony just rolls his eyes and gathers the kid in his arms, leaving important paperwork scattered all over the kitchen countertop as he walks to his living quarters. The other Avengers obviously don’t talk about how much of a protective ‘dad’ Tony is.

Nope, not at all.

by celestial-irondad

1, 241 words

based on this post by @lovelyirony. thanks for letting me use this as a prompt! xD

enjoy!

——

Peter did stupid things. And it has gotten to the point where Tony’s starting to think that he’s using his ‘it’s my Parker Luck’ excuse to do stupid things deliberately. But Tony’s just relieved that he’s usually present to stop the kid from doing anything life-threatening and stupid.

The billionaire had lost count on the number of times Peter had jumped head first into danger just for him to pull the kid back. And that was when they’re alone together. God only knows the amount of trouble the kid gets into without the engineer to stop him.

Yeah, Peter had super strength and super healing powers, but was it really necessary to jump headfirst into danger the moment someone needs help? What about Tony, then? How was he to cope with the near heart attacks every time F.R.I.D.A.Y alerts him about the injuries Peter sustained during patrol?

Also, why couldn’t the kid just stay at home, where there were multiple security measures to keep him safe? Why must he insist on saving the world?

“With great power comes great responsibility, Mr. Stark.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

What about his responsibility? To keep the kid safe?

Jeez, literally just the other day the poor genius had to stop the kid from somersaulting off the Empire State Building just because his boyfriend said so.

“Hey Peter,” Ted? Greg? Ned? Ned said, poking Peter’s arm. “You have a what? Spidey-sense, right?”

Peter nodded distractedly, taking apart his web-shooters to upgrade it. Ned loomed over his shoulder to take a better look. “And… you have the web-shooters to save you from danger, right?”

Tony had looked up at the mere mention of the kid and danger in the same sentence. What was the Ned getting at?

“So… you can safely do a flip off the Empire State Building, right?” As soon as Ned finished his sentence, Peter had already strapped on his back-up web-shooters, hoodie on and shoes tied. And before the kid could do anything stupid, Tony reached over the table, and grabbed his hood, keeping him in place.

“How about… you don’t?” Tony asked, although it didn’t sound like a request, more of an underlying threat. Both teenagers sulked for the rest of the night, but whatever, Tony’s just glad he didn’t have to wipe off Peter’s remains off the pavement below the Empire State Building tomorrow morning.

And then, there was that other time when the billionaire went to Peter’s school to pick him up for the weekend’s lab session. It was later than usual, so there weren’t as many students. He looked up when he heard the kid and his boyfriend, nearly having a heart attack when Ned tackled Peter to the ground because he got lost in conversation and started to walk up the school wall.

Tony had sighed, resigned to his fate as Peter clambered into the car, giddy with the adrenaline of being tackled to the ground.

Not to mention the time when the engineer walked into Peter tangled in a chair. He had promptly walked out, unwilling to deal with Peter’s peculiarity.

Obviously, after one too many near catastrophes, Tony had to do something about it. So, he gave Peter a StarkWatch, connected to F.R.I.D.A.Y. His AI would alert him of anything suspicious going on with Peter or if he was injured.

Sure, the ‘baby monitor’ protocol existed, but Tony felt like that hadn’t been enough and so the ‘Peter, what have you done’ protocol was born.

That specific protocol was activated if F.R.I.D.A.Y. couldn’t read Peter’s vitals or if his vitals spiked. It was foolproof, in Tony’s opinion. What could go wrong with so many protocols in place to keep one kid safe?

——

Peter and Ned was out on a date when they stumbled upon a big tree. Instead of sitting under it like most normal couples, Ned took one look at it and told Peter he wouldn’t be able to climb it.

Of course, Peter being the dumb kid he was, took that as a challenge, took his valuables off and started climbing the tree like his life depended on it. But once he reached the top of the tree and proved Ned wrong, he couldn’t get back down.

“What do you mean, you’re stuck?” Ned cackled, tears streaming down his face from his laughter.

Peter squinted down at his boyfriend from the his perch. “I mean that I’m stuck. Can’t move kind of stuck.”

Ned just fell onto soft grass laughing, slapping his knee, pulling out his phone to record his stupid boyfriend. They were drawing in a crowd, and an old lady concerned about Peter’s safety had called the fire brigade. Now all they had to do was make sure Peter didn’t fall off the tree and break anything.

There were more phones out to record Peter, even if he was up so high up, most of their phone wouldn’t be able to get a clear shot of his face anyway.

By the time the fire department reached, Peter was already halfway to bored, although Ned was still wheezing with laughter. The vigilante was just glad he could get out of the tree. Then, he watched in horror as the ladder only reached two-thirds of the tree. The old lady who called the fire brigade started crying, while Ned laughed even harder, if it were possible.

——

“Protocol ‘Peter, what have you done?’ has been activated, Boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. alerted. “Mr. Parker is either dead or he took of his StarkWatch.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.!”

And if the AI had a human body, she would be waving her hand in a dismissive manner. “Yes, Boss. Rule 498: no death jokes.”

Tony sighed, but before he could pull up Peter’s last known address, his phone rang.

“Mr. Stark?” A breathy voice said, a snicker following right after. “Mr. Stark— I think—“

“Ted? Ned?” The billionaire asked. “What’s going on, where’s Pete?”

There was uncontrollable laughter on the other side of the line. “That’s— that’s the thing— Peter— he’s— he’s stuck in a tree.”

Glancing at the clock hung by the entrance to the lab, Tony sighed. It was nine-thirty. It was too early for this.

——

Peter could have cried with relief when he saw the familiar red and gold approaching. He had been stuck in this godforsaken tree for give or take an hour, and his limb are begging to be free.

How did he get stuck in the first place? He’s Spider-Man, Godamnit!

“Mr. Stark!” He called out happily when the man was within earshot.

A robotic kind of sigh emitted out of the suit, and Mr. Stark placed both his hands on his hips. “Kid—“

Another robotic sigh. “Kid— how did you...?”

Peter grinned wolfishly up at his mentor, a hand reaching out to him. A whirring sound could be heard, and Mr. Stark flew towards him, carrying him into the air.

“My saviour!”

“We’re going to having a serious talk about your—“ Mr. Stark sucked in a sharp breath. “Your... ridiculous tendencies.”

Peter nodded, and held onto cold metal. “Ned’s below... could you maybe...”

The vigilante could practically feel his mentor’s eye roll, and beamed up at him. Mr. Stark would always come to save the day, even if he grumbles and complains.

——