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Dad!Tony Stark x Son!Male Reader (PLATONIC!)
A/N: This was requested over on our Wattpad! I surprisingly enjoyed writing this. Itâs been about a year since Iâve watched the Marvel movies so my memory is pretty rusty, please let me know if Iâve mixed anything up and Iâll give it a quick fix. Also, Iâm not from America so Iâm not sure with their states/cities so please point out any mistakes I mightâve made.
Y/N's POV:
Things used to be good between my dad and I, but ever since Peter had shown up, all his attention had stuck on him. It wasnât all too noticeable at first, we would still hang out when he was free, spending our Saturday nights watching movies together.
Though it only took a few weeks for him to start to brush me off more. Similar excuses each time he rescheduled our weekly plans. âI have improvements to add to Peterâs suit.â âIâve got work to finish with Peter.â âPeter needs help getting used to the suit.â Peter this, Peter that.
It was like Peter was his son and not me. Just like that, I was thrown into the background, a minor thought in the back of his mind, it was like he no longer cared for me.
~~~
We had a recital coming up really soon, one I had expressed my excitement to my dad before for. He used to be so proud, so ecstatic to eventually see me up on stage. I hoped this would be the push he needed to give me the attention I had so easily and so quickly lost.
Dad was downstairs in his workshop, thatâs where he usually was, always working on something new to dazzle the public with. I slowly open the glass door, stepping in as he speaks up. âPeter, youâre finally here. Here, try this-â He turns around, a metal plate in his hand as he props it towards me.
âOh Y/N. Sorry about that, what do you need?â He turns back around, placing the metal back down, keeping his attention on his creation. I silently sigh as I walk over to him, taking the folded poster out of my pocket. I hand the piece of paper to him, his eyebrows raised in confusion before reading through it.
âThe recitals in a couple days, I know how excited you were to come see me, and Iâd love for you to be thereâ He smiles, stuffing the paper into his shirt pocket. âOf course Iâll be there. Wouldnât miss it for the world, kid.â I canât help the smile that grows on my face, âThanks dad. You donât know how much this means to me.â
Dad sent a smile back my way before I swiftly left his workshop, excitedly practising my songs in my room for the upcoming day.
~~~
The day I had longed for had finally arrived. It was around 6:30pm and I was currently backstage, I was going up on stage in only half an hour. I had been practising the whole year for this recital and I was determined to perfectly execute it. I couldnât wait for dad to see the progress I had made.
Some time had passed, the curtains would open in 5 minutes, parents and friends of the people performing with me had started to fill the seats. I looked out from the slight gap in the curtains, hoping to see my dad amongst the growing crowd.
My eyes darted across the plethora of seats, filled with unfamiliar faces. I deflate as I canât find him, hoping, praying he was just running late.
We got into our places behind the curtains, a countdown being played in our headsets before the curtains swung open. I noticed my friends looking around for the people they invited, their faces lighting up when they did. I followed suit, taking another quick look over the crowd, never finding my dad though.
My heart pangs at the realisation, he wasnât here, he didn't come to see me perform. Whatever. I could do this without him, I didnât need him to make this my greatest performance. And so thatâs what I did, I put my all into everything. Making it a performance he would regret not coming to see.
~~~
The recital lasted about an hour, my friends walking out with me into the cold night. The fresh air was a stark contrast to the heating anger I felt in the enclosed room. As my friends split up, they waved goodbye as they hopped into their parents cars, driving off to their homes.
I sat there, sitting on the staircase leading to the doors of the building. Usually dad would send Happy or even Pepper to come pick me up from things he wasnât able to. But after sitting out on the chilling night, it became apparent that he wasnât coming, no one was. I take one last look at my phone, the lack of notifications making me sigh.
Defeated, I picked up my belongings and started my journey among the dark streets of Manhattan. I dragged myself back home, walking almost sluggishly as my mind raced. Did he care? Why else wouldnât he come? Did I do something wrong? Anger him? Maybe it was my fault he didnât show up. Maybe something came up. But why didnât he message me to let me know.
Iâm brought out of my thoughts at the feeling of something escaping my eyes, and the taste of salt falls onto my upper lip. Fuck. I wipe my cheek, setting my mind on making it home, not wanting to fall apart on the side of the streets. I wasnât far anyways, only another 20 minutes until I would be back home.
~~~
As I reach the front door, I unlock it with my spare keys before walking in. âGood evening, Y/N.â I hear F.R.I.D.A.Yâs robotic voice shoot from the speaker beside me. I smile slightly. âHey Friday.â I walk to the kitchen to pour myself some water, after taking a sip I ask. âFriday?â âYes Sir?â I look around the lit house. âWhereâs dad?â
It takes a second for her to answer. âHeâs in his workshop.â I nod, thanking her as I start to make my way there. Before reaching the stairs though, the sound of two voices makes its way through the glass. Dadâs laugh booming as a young boyâs follows. I didnât even have to see him to know who was down there. Peter. I sigh, I guess I knew why dad didn't come now.
I step back up the stairs, ignoring the two as I bee-line to my room. I throw my bag onto the floor, changing my clothes as tears start to well up in my eyes once again. I curse myself, putting my clothes away before falling into bed, muffling my sniffles with one of my pillows.
âFriday. Lock my door please.â I hear her voice once more âOf course.â before the sound of a âclickâ comes from the mechanical door. I groan into my pillow, lying to my side as I closed my eyes.
~~~
The whole night, I had thought long and hard, messaging one of my closest friends about what was going on. He offered to let me stay at his place, for as long as I needed to. We spoke about it all last night, planning for him to come pick me up tonight. It wasnât too long of a drive, less than an hour. He lived in Hillsdale, a nice change in scenery.
I stayed in my room, packing my things in a suitcase I would use when dad and I went on his âBusiness tripsâ. Once packing all the things I wanted to take with me, I stuffed the case under my bed. I groggily walk into the kitchen, look around and not see dad anywhere. I mutter before cooking breakfast for myself.
He was probably in his workshop, working on god knows what now. He hadnât bothered to check up on me last night, not even to make sure I made it home safely and now he hadnât bothered to greet me. Finishing my food, I stomp back into my room, eating my food as all I can think about is how much I canât wait to leave this stupid house.
~~~
When night arrives, I sneak to the front door, suitcase and an extra backpack in my hands. Itâs not like dad wouldâve noticed anyways, he was still busy âworkingâ I sigh as I open the front door, F.R.I.D.A.Yâs voice stopping me. âWhere are you going this late at night, Y/N?â I checked my watch, it was only 9:30.
âIâm having a sleepover at a friend's place.â F.R.I.D.A.Y replies with something along the lines of âHave fun.â I scattered out the door and looked around for the car my friend drove, once it came into view, I made my way to it. âHey man, you got everything?â I nod as I place my luggage in the back seat, hopping into the passenger seat.
âYeah, thanks for this.â I buckle my seatbelt before turning to him. âOf course, Iâm here for you man.â The ride to his house is mostly silent besides the quiet music playing from the carâs speaker. I lean my head back, taking out my phone as I distract myself on the long drive.
~~~
A week had passed when my phone started to blow up, messages from friends and people from school filled my inbox. âHey, are you okay?â âWhere are you?â âI haven't seen you in a while, are you alright?â However, nothing from dad. I make sure my location is turned off before continuing with my day, sitting down to watch some T.V. I scroll through channels, my eyes landing on my name on a news headline, I put down the remote as I read the whole heading.
âY/N Stark, Son of Tony Stark, has been reported missing.â An explanation of the time of my âdisappearanceâ was reported, including the places I would most often hang out and where I was last seen, at the performance theatre our school had rented out for the recital. Shit.
I hear my friendâs footsteps behind me, âI think it might be time for you to go back, everyoneâs worried sick.â My phone rings over and over again with messages, calls, mentions on social media. Everyone asked about the news and if I was okay. I shut down my phone, shoving it in my back pocket. âYeah, maybe.â
I hear a familiar voice play on the T.V behind me, I shoot back around to face it as I see my father being harassed by paparazzi. Microphones and cameras in his face as he tries to get into his car. âDo you have any idea where he could be?â âDo you have anything to do with Y/Nâs disappearance?â âIs he alive?â âDo you have any information on Y/Nâs whereabouts?â A frown appears on my face as he looks at the camera, his eyes sunken and dark and his eyebrows furrowed.
âI know as much as you guys do.â He aggressively replies. âAnd if the lot of you donât leave, Iâll have you all jobless by tomorrow.â The voices quiet down, interviewers walking away from the car he got into, the engine starting with a roar.
I sigh, I never meant for it to go this far. âLetâs goâ I leave to pack my stuff back up again.
~~~
Itâs late at night as my friend parks in front of my house, I see extra security put up to keep the paparazzi out. I turn to my friend, thanking him before stepping out of the vehicle, I pull out my luggage, walking towards the gate. As I open it, I trudge up the long driveway to the house. Making it to the top, I drop my bags beside me, taking deep breaths as the steep walk winded me.
I bring them back into my hands, pulling them to the front door. I try to quietly open the lock, keys jingling as I hear the slight âclickâ to indicate the door unlocking. I push against the handle, pulling my bags in as I hear shuffling in the room near me.
I looked over to the living room, my dad curled into himself, maps, documents and holograms covering the table. My heart wrenches at his appearance, the lack of sleep evident on his face and scruffed hair.
I pull my bags over to the staircase. âY/N?â Fast footsteps approach me as I turn to the noise. I canât help the bittersweet smile that makes its way onto my mouth as he grabs my shoulders. His eyes darted across my face, looking for any sign of injury. His arms wrap around me, tightening as I feel his relieved breaths escape him.
I hug back, head shoved into his chest as I hold onto him. âIâm so sorry, so sorry. I didnât mean for this-â âNo, no, no, no.â He repeats sullenly âItâs my fault, I shouldn't have done what I did, Iâm so sorry.â I chuckle as I shake my head. âPlease forgive me Y/N.â I let out a short breathy laugh. âOf course, Iâm sorry I didnât just talk to you about it, I never wanted to worry you.â
He smiles, âI never wanted to make you think I didnât care about you. Youâre my son. So much more important than anyone, especially Peter.â He rubs a hand against my back. âYouâre my top priority, and Iâll make sure you never doubt that again.â âThank you.â
That night was spent in the living room, we spoke to each other, explaining how the situation affected us both. The both of us understanding the otherâs view, making sure to talk about whatâs going on next time. We talk for a while, sleep only falling upon us hours later.
As I start to yawn, dad brings my head to his chest. My eyes drift shut as I fall asleep in his arms, the same way I used to when I was younger.
~~~
It had been about a month since the whole ordeal. News of a new recital making its way into school newsletters and I was beaming. I couldnât wait, this time being able to truly showcase my abilities with my dad being there to witness it.
Once arriving home, I quickly threw my bag on the floor in front of the door. I rush down the stairs after, opening the door with a little more patience so as to not startle my dad. âHey dad!â I close the door behind me, making my way to his workstation.
âHey kid, whatâs up?â He turns from his work, leaning back against the table as he looks at me. I handed him the poster I had borrowed from one of the drama students. He reads through it, eyes tracing each word before lifting his head back up to me. âAnother one?â He holds a wide smile on his face as he drops his hand down.
âYeah, you better come to this one.â He laughs at my playful jab, nodding as he holds the poster close to him. âIâll be there, I promise.â I nod. âThanks dad. I really appreciate it.â âOf course.â He lightly responds, pulling me into a hug.
~~~
It was yet again, time for me to perform. I couldnât wait, knowing my dad would definitely be out there this time. As we get ready on the stage, I take a quick glance at the crowd, my eyes landing on my dad, sitting in the middle of the front row. I chuckle to myself, of course he was.
As the curtains draw open, I canât help but smile at the proud look he gives me. As the group starts to sing, I look down at him, both of his hands presenting a thumbs-up. My heart warms at the action. He turns to the parent to the left of him, whispering something. I only catch onto a couple words âThat- -y son-.â He points up to me, a look of admiration plastered across his face.
A/N: I wrote this entire thing in one day, it only took me about 5 hours. And itâs somehow my longest fic yet. It's not proof-read tho so apologies for anything that doesn't make sense or anything like that.
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