Dad

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It had been left unsaid until then. 

They both knew it. They both knew that Tony was Peter's father figure- Tony had been acting like it from the moment he had met Peter. 

But now, it was like facing the fact. 

Peter and Tony had been arguing- Peter had stayed out too late as Spider-Man, and Tony, being the concerned parent he was, told him off for it. 

"If you keep staying out so late, I'll have to take the suit away again." Tony said, folding his arms. 

"But Dad!" Peter replied indignantly, then realised what he had said, and went bright red. 

Tony had frozen. Peter had just called him dad. Once he had recovered, Tony looked back at Peter again, who had covered his red face with his hands, groaning loudly. Tony smiled, chuckling, and sat on the bed beside where Peter was lying, wishing he was dead. 

"Why don't you get some sleep, eh son?" He said, and Peter peered up at him from behind his fingers. 

"Aren't you mad? Or- or like, surprised or something-"

"Nah." Tony cut him off, waving a hand. "We were wondering how long it would take you. At least Clint owes me fifty dollars now. And I owe Nat three favours and one hundred dollars." 

Peter shot up from bed, giving him an angry look. 

"You guys bet on me?!" Peter gasped, wacking Tony with his pillow. 

Tony grabbed the pillow, laughing, and moved away. 

"Don't worry Peter, it was just a little harmless betting. You don't have to keep calling me dad if you don't want to." 

"No I... I want to, I just... anyway, goodnight dad." 

Tony smiled, a warm feeling spreading through his chest. "Goodnight kiddo. We'll go get ice cream tomorrow, hows that?"

A grin spread across Peter's face. "Can I get rocky road flavour again?" He asked excitedly, leaning on his elbows. 

"Yep, and you can get two scoops." 

Peter fell back onto the bed, grinning excitedly. "Yess! Ned's gonna be so jealous, he has to go to his sisters ballet concert." 

Laughing, Tony tucked Peter in like he was five again and pressed a quick kiss to the forehead. "Goodnight Pete." He said, switching the light off as he headed towards the door, and gently closed it after himself. 

He walked down the hallway as quietly as possible, then slipped into the lounge room. Only Clint, Thor and Natasha were up at this time of the night, quietly talking. 

"Clint you owe me fifty bucks." Tony said loudly, making them all jump slightly. 

***

It was about two days later, and the Avengers were all witness to Peter and Tony's father-son-duo banter, from Tony being a concerned parent, to their messing around, and the god awful dad jokes that Tony felt he had the right to say now that he was a father. 

He and Clint were the worst. They would walk around the tower saying their dad jokes back and forth, with such bad quality that the Avengers would cover their ears and hide from them as much as possible. 

At one point they had snuck out of the tower, going to a nearby McDonald's for lunch simply to escape their jokes. Tony and Clint hadn't been happy with this, well, until Natasha revealed to have bought Clint some food, but not Tony, so he was salty for the rest of the day.

"So, if Tony's dad, does that mean I'm Auntie Tasha?" Natasha asked Peter as they stretched, readying themselves for a training session together. 

"If you want." Peter replied, shrugging. 

"Cool." 

Their conversation came to an end for a moment, only broken by the quiet music in the background. 

"Do you, uh, wanna be called Auntie Tasha?" Peter asked slightly nervously. 

Natasha turned and looked at Peter with her usual unreadable facial expression. 

"Yes. I'd love to have another nephew to spoil." 

Peter looked away, smiling bashfully. "Okay, uh, Auntie Tasha." 

***

It was later, during dinner that the Avengers first heard the term "Auntie Tasha" said by Peter. 

Natasha was helping serve up dinner- a tuna mornay, made by Steve again. "Is this enough ребенок-паук?" She asked, serving him up several large scoops. 

"Yes thank you Auntie Tasha." Peter replied, picking up his fork. 

The entire table fell silent, all eyes turning to Peter and Natasha, who were both pretending nothing happened. Peter's cheeks were slightly pink from the attention, and he was glad when Steve broke the silence, turning to Sam beside him and asking him about his day. 

Once Peter finished eating, the table awkwardly quiet, the Avengers making small talk with one another, he took his bowl up and mumbled something about homework, heading to his bedroom. 

The moment he had gone, all eyes turned to Natasha. 

"How'd you do it?" Clint was first to ask, looking slightly desperate. 

"Do what?" Natasha asked cooly. 

"Get him to stop! He's been calling me all 'Mr Hawkeye Clint Barton sir' since I met him! It drives me up the wall!" 

Natasha chuckled slightly. 

"He calls me Mr Winter Soldier White wolf Bucky Barnes sir." Bucky added, eyebrows scrunched ever-so-slightly, looking mildly amused and annoyed at the same time. 

"And I'm Mr Captain America Steve Rogers sir." Steve piped up. 

"So how'd you get him to stop?" Clint finished. 

"I asked him." Natasha replied calmly, picking up her empty bowl and sashaying over to the kitchen to wash it. 

"Asked him? I've been asking him for months though!" Clint whined. 

"Me too." Wanda stacked up the empty bowls. "How do you think we can get him to stop?" 

"Why don't we just wait till he's ready? Maybe his relationship with Nat is more advanced than ours, it'll probably just take time." Sam pointed out. Everyone grumbled under their breaths at this, but seemingly agreed. 

It seemed the team didn't have to wait very long. 

It was only the next day when Peter dropped the long titles, instead calling them "Mr Steve," "Mr Clint," "Mr Bucky," and "Miss Wanda." 

He had heard them all talking with Natasha from his room with his advanced hearing, and decided his joke had gone on for long enough. 

He was a little upset that he hadn't managed to get them to beg him stop yet, though Clint had gotten close at one point. 

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