Warnings: Death, you become an orphan, kidnapping (you), the Mad Hatter being his usual very creepy self, child mental torture (also you) , Jason struggling to be a dad…
Summary: After a being rescued from the hands of Mad Hatter, you have no one to turn to except a stranger in a red hood…
(A/n: The ultimate ”guy/girl who’s going to be okay” song, I have no idea what the lyrics actually say but I’m right…)
——
Growing up in the East End your family had always struggled to get by. And after your mom passed away from illness things just got worse.
Because of your financial struggles your dad ended up in the hands of the Mad Hatter, working as a henchman. He knew it was wrong but wanted to do the best for you to be able to go to school and not go hungry and cold.
But after a while he couldn’t take the guilt of working for someone as evil as the Hatter and planned to quit… but someone wasn’t gonna let that happen.
The Mad Hatter was going to make an example of him, to those planning on leaving him. So he targeted you… On your way home from school he sent his henchmen to take you. Giving you a shot of one of his hypnotic serums to put you to sleep…
Once you woke up you were in a dark cold room, the room was filthy and painted to look like a wonderland. You then noticed you had been stripped and dressed in a onesie that looked like a mouse. You had been chained around the waist to the wall.
You tried to call for help but nothing…
Hours later the door opened and a unsetling voice could be heard ”Wakey wakey, little Dormouse”. Through the door came a creepy looking man in a top hat. You backed against the wall cold brick wall, praying that you could just fall back through it. ”Who are you?” you said trying to not let your voice tremble.
”Why I’m your dad’s boss… although he has been looking for a career change” the man turned back towards the door and waved his hand saying ”Bring him in”. Two men came in dragging your dad who was severly beaten up.
”Dad!” you screamed and try to run to your father but the chain around your waist wouldn’t let you. ”Y/n” your dad said weakly. The creepy man then said joyfully to your father ”See what happens when you leave wonderland, you ruin everybody else’s fun”.
You the realised who was standing in front of you… The Mad Hatter. You felt tears sting in your eyes. ”Please let us go” you begged. But the Mad Hatter only smiled at you and said ”But we’ll have so much fun you and I, we’ll have a tea party”.
He then turned his smile to a frown and said ”But as for your father… he’s not invited”. Then he smiled wickedly at you and said ”Off… with… his… head!”. The henchmen immediately started beating your dad mercilessly as you begged them to stop. Meanwhile the Mad Hatter just cackled loudly.
Soon your dad’s lifeless body layed on the floor infront of you. The Mad Hatter and his henchmen left without a word… not even sparing you a glance. You cried for hours, begging the Hatter wouldn’t comeback.
When what you could only assume was a day later had passed, you heard something outside the room. Loud noises. Voices. You shrunk into the corner as if to hide yourself, even though there was nothing to hide behind.
Maybe the Mad Hatter was coming to kill you now…
Then the door creaked open slowly making you cover your mouth to not make a noise. The door opened fully revealing a man, not the Mad Hatter… someone else.
He wore a Red Helmet but he seemed to have spotted you… And you could just hear him say quietly ”That fucking sicko”. He then spotted your dad’s body and walked slowly towards you. You raised a fist at him but he said in a calm tone ”Don’t worry, you’re safe now”.
He set you free from the chains and you ran over to your dad, his body was cold as ice, you knew there was no way to save him. You started weeping and the hooded figure knelt beside you putting a hand on your shoulder.
After letting you cry for as long as you needed, the man said ”We should go” and he guided you out of the room. You were shaking as he walked you out of the Hatter’s lair. You were met with Batman surrounded by all of his sidekicks who had captured the Hatter. You only now realized you had been saved by THE Red Hood.
”Red Hood, what took you so lo-” Batman started cutting himself off as he noticed you. Everyone was silent for a moment. Red Hood then said ”I’ll explain later but we need to get him to hospital to see he’s alright”. ”Right” Batman answered understandingly.
They took you to a hospital, where you were first checked over by doctors and then spent the night there. When you woke up you found that a ”Get well soon” balloon had been tied to the end of your bed.
Shortly after you were taken into foster care for a while, until a foster care worker asked you to come to her office. Inside was the foster care worker and a relatively young man, probably only in his mid-twenties. ”Y/n, please come in” the worker said.
You did as told and she said ”This is Mr Jason Todd”. The young man held out a hand for you to shake, which you did politely and confused. ”Mr Todd, would like to speak with you in private, If that’s alright?” she asked. You looked the man up and down suspiously but said ”Okay”. ”Good, I’ll be right outside if you need me” the worker said leaving the two of you alone.
”How are you doing, after everything?” Mr Todd asked. ”I’m… managing” you said a bit unsure. ”I wanted to come check on you, since… since I was the one who found you there” he explained.
”You’re the Red Hood?” you asked.
”Yeah” he answered softly. You didn’t ask any further questions about it.
”The world feels so empty now” you stated. Jason felt his heart break knowing what you meant ”I understand”. The two of you talked for a while before Jason said ”I would like to offer you something”.
You became quiet. ”Would you like to come live with me?” he said. You were caught off-guard first and only said ”… what”. He then proceeded to explain again, that he’d like to adopt you. You were unsure at first but looked him in the eyes, they had a kind warm depth to them. You trusted him.
”Yes. I would” you said.
——
It was weird living together at first. Jason didn’t want to cross any boundaries as if he was a ”replacement dad” and you were unsure how to act around your adopted father. You were both just not sure how you fit in to the others life.
But Jason would still do his best to spend time with you in different ways, helped you decorate your room, help you with your homework, cook together, take you to the arcade, etc…
Jason’s family was also very welcoming with you when you first visted the Wayne manor to meet them, obviously they’d have to tell you about being the bat-family.
There was also the slightly awkward yet funny moment of realising Damian was technically your uncle despite being around the same age as you.
But Damian would 100% pick up the cool protective uncle role for you and if ANYONE messes with you, there’s now a target on their back. He also now owns a t-shirt that says ”Favorite Uncle”.
They would start giving you some light combat training, mainly for self-defence but also incase you’d like to join the Bat-Family when you’re older.
You and Jason would also start your own family tradition of getting take out and watching movies together on friday nights. Sometimes inviting his family or his or your friends to join.
During one of those nights when the two of you had been up to 2 in morning watching a bunch of movies, Jason noticed you had gotten sleepy and said ”You should probably get to bed”. ”Yeah” you said yawning.
As you stood up and walked to your room you turned to Jason and said in a sleepy tone ”Goodnight Dad”. Jason froze on spot. He didn’t know if it was just because you were so tired but you had called him dad.
And he felt a warmness in his heart and said quietly ”Goodnight Son”.
a/n ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ⋆.˚ this is the first fic I've completed, it might be terrible..let me know if there's anything I should work on please<3
Summary: being Bucky's adoptive kid(he rescued from hydra) and not being able to sleep at night idk this is harder than I thought
It had been years since you had been in hydra. Years since you had been in hiding. Years adjusting to a new life, where you don't have to hide.
But there were still night like this, head full of nightmares tearing you from sleep.
You had given up on sleeping in the last hour, not wanting to face it all again. Instead you went out to the the kitchen for some water. You grabbed a glass and settled on the counter next to the sink, too tired to stand while you waited for the glass to fill. You sat there for a while, sipping slowly to avoid having to go back to bed.
By the time you had finished the water and filled it back up, almost deciding to go back to your room alone, Bucky had walked into the kitchen. He probably came for the same reason as you, nightmares being something you both had shared from your pasts. It didn't take long for him to notice you on the counter.
“Hey kid,” he walked over to you, slowly as if you were a wounded animal. “cant sleep?”
“No. you either?”
“No..” He got his own glass, filling it and taking a few swigs. “How long have you been up?”
You looked down at your hands, still trying to avoid sleeping alone. “A couple hours.”
Bucky knew how it was after these nightmares, how much you avoided sleep after. You had once gone three days without sleeping after a particularly bad one. He never pushed you to try, only softly encouraged helping however he could.
“Let’s get you back to bed then.” He put down his glass and picked you up. Even though you were almost an adult, he still treated you like a child every now and then. His child.
The two of you didn't talk on the way to your room, you just relished on each others company. You didn't mind, too tired to talk anyway. He had never been a man of many words, for as long as you had known him. You didn't mind much though, sometimes it was nice to take a break from talking so much.
He set you down in your bed, sitting on the edge while you settled back down.
“You know no one will hurt you while I'm here, right? I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” He set a hand on your knee, movements matching his reassuring words.
“I know.”
“Good.” He moved to get up off the bed, but you stopped him with a grab of his wrist.
He looked down at you, slightly confused.
“Will you stay? Just for a little bit.” You were very tired, and half asleep already, but you needed him there. He was your protector, always there for you, you knew just him being in the the room would help soothe the nightmares.
He didn't say anything in response, just nodded and sat back down on your bed, wrapping an arm around you.
A few minutes passed of you curled up in his arms, finally feeling at peace, when you said something, barely realizing you spoke.
“Thanks dad.”
He tensed up, in all the years that you two had known each other, all the years of him taking care of you, not once have you called him that. He didn't know what to say. It took a few minutes, but eventually he landed on,
“Of course kid.”
A simple answer, but that's what you were, his kid. You may not have been related, or met in a great situation, but you will always be his.
Summary: All Y/n ever wanted was his father’s love. Was that too much to ask?
Y/n sat on the floor in his bedroom, legs crossed, focusing intently on the canvas propped up before him. With a charcoal stick in his hand, Y/n carefully sketched the outline of a cityscape, his e/c eyes narrowed in concentration. His room permeated with the soft scratching of charcoal on canvas, a melody in the air.
Once Y/n finished the final touches and scooted back to examine his piece. One simple word crossed his mind: beautiful.
Since childhood, Y/n has loved drawing, sketching, and painting. He started with simple subjects like trees, flowers, and stars, then progressed to more complex images like people's faces and vehicles. He loved it so much that he pursued an art degree in college, unable to imagine a life not surrounded by art of some kind.
Furthermore, art allowed him to express emotions that words couldn't convey by providing an escape from the chaos of everyday life. It was just him, his brush, and the many possibilities on a canvas.
However, Y/n sometimes wondered if choosing art as his passion was a good idea since his father, Tony Stark, did not seem to appreciate his artistic abilities. Instead, he shifted the appreciation that he should have for Y/n to someone else.
Peter Parker.
See, Y/n Stark is the type of guy who preferred music and painting to building suits and technology that Tony loved so much, which only seemed to widen the gap between father and son. Tony didn’t seem to have much time for his son but made sure to have lots of time for Peter, who shared Tony's love for technology.
Y/n couldn’t help but feel jealous as he watched his dad always dote on Peter, offering him opportunities and praise that Y/n craved. But he seemed to have little time or patience for his artistic son.
He placed his finished piece on his desk and started putting away his sketching utensils. Just then, he heard a knock on his open door and turned around to see that Steve was standing in the doorway. Y/n smiled when he saw Steve. Besides Tony, Steve was his favorite Avenger. He sometimes acted more of a parent than the one currently in his life and the guys both bonded over their love for drawing.
"Hey, Steve. How was the mission?"
"Tiring. Dealing with rogue mutants can certainly take a toll on me," Steve replied, his eyes suddenly drifting to Y/n's newly crafted sketch, "Nice drawing Y/n. Is this for your end-of-semester art project?"
Y/n nodded his head in confirmation. "Yes, my professor wanted the class to draw something that represents our unique perspective on the world."
"And what perspective is that?"
Y/n paused to think about that question. "I guess... It's my view of the world as an artist. The world is full of life and energy, but there's also darkness and shadows. It's a reminder that beauty and struggles coexist. Nothing can ever change that."
Steve nodded, tracing the bold lines and subtle shading. "That’s an interesting yet accurate perspective. I am proud of you. You’re going to do great things one day."
A small smile appeared on Y/n’s face. He may not have gotten his dad’s praise, but he was happy that someone praised his artistic abilities and told him that he was proud of him. It warmed his heart.
"Thank you. That means a lot to me."
"You’re welcome. By the way, we’re having a group dinner tonight. We’ll be having lasagna, so bring your appetite."
Y/n grinned. He loved the soldier's cooking, especially when it was a dinner meal. It was so much better than eating takeout. "Oh, I'll be there, and y'all better hope that it all doesn’t get eaten by me."
Steve laughed before pivoting on his heel and leaving. Y/n watched as the soldier's retreating figure disappeared down the hall before turning back to his sketch, contentment washing over him.
As Y/n admired his work, his thoughts drifted back to his father. He knew that Tony loved him in his own way, but their relationship had always been strained. Tony’s focus on technology and his busy lifestyle, along with mentoring Peter, left little room for the two to hang out or for Tony to understand Y/n's passion for art.
But now, Y/n was determined to fix their relationship. After all, he lost his mother over a decade ago, and his father was the only blood family that he had left. He didn’t want their relationship to continue to be strained, and if Tony could make room for Peter in his life, then he could make some room for his biological son.
With that thought in mind, the e/c-eyed male headed to the private elevator that would take him to Tony’s workshop. And as he rounded the corner, he bumped into Rhodey, whom Y/n often looked up to as well. They greeted each other with their signature handshake that was only made for them two before Rhodey took off, explaining that he had a meeting to attend with a council member, and Y/n continued his journey to the workshop.
When he arrived at Tony's workshop, he saw his father standing next to his work bench, typing on his phone. Behind Tony, there was his Iron Man suit, opened up. Y/n figured that he just stepped out of it.
"Hey, Dad." Y/n greeted politely, crossing the room to give Tony a one-armed hug.
Surprisingly, Y/n's father did reciprocate the hug but didn’t even bother to look up at his son when he greeted him. He just kept his brown eyes glued to the phone in his hand. "Y/n. How was your day?"
"It was good. Classes were pretty light today, and I mostly just worked on my end-of-the-semester project for art class." Y/n explained, hoping that Tony would ask him more follow-up questions, such as what piece Y/n decided to draw or if he could see the work for himself. However, all Tony gave was a curt nod, still typing on that phone of his. So, Y/n cleared his throat and switched topics: "Dad, do you want to hang out this Saturday? There’s this art showing at the museum, and—"
"An art showing?" Tony finally looked up from his phone, his eyes flicking briefly to his son’s face before returning to the screen. "Sorry, kid, but I have meetings this Saturday. Besides, I’d rather watch paint dry than look at old paintings. You know that I’m more of a technology and engineering kind of guy than an art one."
Y/n's shoulders drooped, and he tried to hide the disappointment he felt. "Yeah, I know. I just thought maybe you’d want to spend some time together. It’s been a minute since we did something like that."
Tony seemed oblivious to Y/n's reaction, continuing to tap away at his phone. "Well, we’ve been busy. You're busy with college, and I'm busy with SI and saving the world, two full-time jobs for me," he put his phone down on the desk, finally giving Y/n his full attention. "But you’re right, we haven’t hung out in a long time. How about we go see that new Outlast movie that’s coming out next weekend?"
Y/n nodded, a small smile coming onto his face. Even though it wasn’t what he wanted to do, he was just happy to have some father-son time with his dad. And more importantly, it was without Peter.
"That sounds good to me. I can’t wait."
Y/n turned around and prepared to leave the room, excitement fluttering in his chest, just as Tony got a phone call from Peter. Y/n stood there for a moment and listened to how Tony asked Peter when he would be coming over and that Tony cleared the rest of his schedule today to help Peter with his last semester project.
The h/c-haired son frowned, feeling the excitement he felt a couple seconds ago disappear and the raw disappointment return. So, Tony can clear his schedule for Peter and make time for him, but he can't make time for his biological son?
It was ridiculous.
But Y/n had to remind himself that it was okay. Peter could have that time with his father all he wanted to today because next weekend, the two Starks would be spending some time together.
Feeling satisfied, Y/n left the workshop and returned to his room. It turned out that he had two things to look forward to: lasagna and the movies next week.
He couldn’t wait.
XXXXX XXXXX
The days passed slowly, but finally, the long-awaited Saturday finally arrived. It was the day of the planned outing with Y/n and his father, a day Y/n had been looking forward to. He hoped this would be a turning point in their relationship, a chance to bridge the gap that seemed to widen between them every passing day.
Now, he was getting ready in his room, choosing a casual outfit of jeans and a T-shirt. He knew that, even though it was April, the weather was rather cool with it being sixty-five degrees outside. That made him add a blue jacket to his outfit.
After checking himself out in the mirror, he walked down the hall to the common area, where Tony had told him to meet. As he walked down the hall, he hoped that the horror movie they were going to see would be good. The trailer did look promising but they can also be deceitful.
Y/n rounded the corner and entered the common area, where the Avengers were watching a movie and enjoying a spread of pizzas, popcorn, nachos, and cheese fries. Thor was the only one who wasn’t here since he went to Asgard for a few days. He noticed they were watching the first "Back to the Future," a classic Steve had promised to watch at the next team movie night after Y/n discovered that he had never seen that movie series before.
Guess he finally listened, Y/n thought as he looked around the room and noticed something that he had failed to notice.
His dad was nowhere to be found.
"Hey, has anyone seen my dad?" Y/n asked, looking over the team of heroes.
"Yeah, he left. You just missed him too." Clint answered, his fingers reaching into the popcorn bowl that was in his lap and shoving some popcorn into his mouth.
Y/n frowned. What? "Left? Left where?"
"He said that he was taking Peter to the science fair." Steve munched on a pizza.
The college student's heart sank and his shoulders sagged, feeling disappointed. So, his father had forgotten about their plans. Again. And it was for Peter. Again.
"Oh," was all Y/n could manage to utter. He knew that he should be used to this, but it still stung every time it happened.
Natasha, sensing the disappointment in Y/n's timbre, glanced over at him. "You didn't know he was going out with Peter."
That was a statement, not a question. Natasha had always been perceptive.
"No, no, I did," Y/n backpedaled, forcing a grin. He didn't understand why he was protecting his father, but he just wanted this conversation to end. "I just forgot, but you telling me made me remember."
Y/n knew he was a terrible liar, and he didn't sound convincing. He knew they didn't believe him, considering Steve's frown, Bruce's concerned look, and the looks shared between Clint and Natasha.
Bruce grabbed the remote and paused the movie. "Look, why don't you join us, Y/n? You can finish the movie with us."
"Yeah, come on, Y/n!" Sam piped up. "We've got plenty of food, and we were just about to start a game of charades."
Y/n glanced at the team of superheroes. While he appreciated their invitation, he had been looking forward to spending time with his dad, so he shook his head but still kept the forced smile on his features. "Thank you guys, but I think I'll just head back to my room. Next time."
The h/c-haired male turned around and left the main area, frustration nagging at his insides. When he got to his room, he flopped down on his bed, back pressed against it as he stared up at the ceiling.
He didn’t understand.
Why did Tony continue to treat him as an afterthought? And what the hell was so damn special about Peter? Why did he always have to be the recipient of his father’s love? He couldn’t help but feel like he was always playing second fiddle to the guy who was two years younger than him. It was ridiculous to be jealous of someone younger than him, but Y/n couldn’t help himself. It hurt so much that his father favored Peter over him.
Y/n pulled out his phone, intending to call his dad when he got a notification from Instagram that his dad had posted a pic. He clicked on it and found himself staring at an image of his dad with Peter.
The caption read: Peter will take over my company someday. #prouddadmoment.
Proud dad moment...?
Peter wasn’t even his actual son and Y/n couldn’t stand the way his dad looked at Peter with such praise. What can I do to make him look at me like that one time?
And before Y/n knew it, his cheeks were pelted with water, and he just realized at that moment that he was crying. The tears fell to his cheeks before dropping onto the bed, but Y/n wiped his cheeks angrily since he shouldn’t allow this to make him sad. But it was so hard not to.
His e/c eyes drifted to the photo that was on his side table. He reached for it and picked it up. It was a photo of his mom. Y/n allowed his finger to run over his mom’s smiling face in the picture. It’s times like this when he wishes that she was still alive. At least then, he’d have a parent in his life who cared about him.
Suddenly, a knock came from his door.
"Come in," Y/n called out, setting down the photo back on his desk. He wished that it was his father knocking on the door, but he wasn't surprised when the door opened, and it wasn't him. It was Steve. "Hi, Steve. Did you like the movie?"
Steve nodded, taking a seat on the bed. "I did. It was a great eighties film. I can see why you love it so much." Steve then changed the conversation. "You okay?"
Y/n nodded. He knew he wasn't okay, but he didn't want to ruin Steve's evening with his problem. "I'm fine. Shouldn't you be playing charades with everyone else?"
The soldier disregarded the question and simply stared at Y/n for a moment, seemingly sensing that he wasn’t telling the truth. "Hey, why don't we grab some dessert? I know a great ice cream shop."
Y/n hesitated briefly. He didn't want to be a burden to Steve, but he also didn't want to spend his evening in his room.
"That sounds nice, thanks." Y/n smiled and followed the soldier out of the door.
Steve drove them to a small ice cream parlor that was tucked away in the city on his motorcycle, a vehicle that Y/n had never expected to get on willingly. Steve got the classic chocolate sundae, while Y/n got a vanilla sundae with chocolate syrup, sprinkles, and a cherry on top.
They then went to the park to watch the beautiful sunset and enjoy their sundae. The sun, a fiery orb of warmth and light, dipped beneath the horizon, painting the sky with two shades of orange and pink.
Y/n and Steve watched the breathtaking scene in comfortable silence. The park was lively with kids playing, the distance hum of cars, and the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. Y/n's vanilla sundae sat untouched. His mind was elsewhere, consumed by the disappointment and hurt he felt over Tony's absence. Steve, on the other hand, enjoyed his chocolate sundae, taking slow, deliberate bites of it.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" The super soldier broke the silence, his eyes shifting over.
"Yup," Y/n murmured, his e/c eyes taking in the stunning view. "It's like a painting."
Steve smiled, nodding his head in agreement. He then spoke again, his voice deadly serious. "So, what's going on? You've seemed a little down lately."
Y/n let out a sigh, knowing there was no point in lying to Steve. "It's my dad. I just feel like he always puts Peter first. It's like I'm not even his real son sometimes."
The blonde's expression softened, and he placed a comforting hand on Y/n's shoulder. "I know it's tough, but try not to take it personally. Your dad has a unique relationship with Peter, but that doesn't diminish his love for you. You're his son."
He sighed again, "I know but it's hard not to feel overshadowed sometimes. Peter gets all the attention, and I'm just... here."
"Your dad may not always show it, but he's proud of you, Y/n," Steve assured him. "And I know that he loves you very much. Sometimes, parents just need a little reminder that their kids need them."
Y/n nodded, but he couldn't help feeling skeptical. After all, actions spoke louder than words, and Tony's actions indicated that he loved Peter more than him. Like Y/n would always come second to Peter.
But he didn't feel like dwelling on Tony's absence anymore. Instead, he turned his attention back to the sunset, watching as the last sliver of the sun disappeared behind the horizon. The sky grew darker, the colors of the sunset fading into the twilight. He didn't get the opportunity to spend the evening with his father as he planned, but at least he had spent it with someone who cared about him deeply.
And that made him smile.
XXXXX XXXXX
The next morning, Y/n found himself in the kitchen, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. The events of the previous day still weighed heavily on his mind, leaving a bitter taste that even the strongest brew couldn't mask. He wanted to confront his dad about his behavior, but at the same time, he didn't want to talk to him after what happened.
As he added a dash of sugar to his cup, the familiar clanking of Tony's footsteps drew closer. He saw his father enter the kitchen, but Y/n leaned against the counter, his back stiff and his gaze fixed on the windows. He deliberately avoided greeting his dad as he would usually do.
"Morning, Y/n," Tony greeted politely, but Y/n remained quiet, his back still turned. Feeling perplexed by the cold shoulder, Tony frowned. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing that concerns you," Y/n replied, voice low and dismissive as he finished his coffee and placed the cup in the sink.
Y/n moved forward, attempting to leave the kitchen, but Tony stepped in front of him, unsatisfied with the response. "I'm your father. It's my job to be concerned."
Y/n's laughter rang out, harsh and bitter as if Tony had just told him a funny joke. "That is quite ironic coming from you."
The frown on Tony's features deepened. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Y/n's voice was quiet, "that lately, you've been anything but a father to me. But I can't say the same for Peter tho. You literally drop everything for him, but you can't even remember our plans."
Tony took a step forward, his tone rising defensively. "That's not true, Y/n. I do my best to be there for both of you. I juggle a lot, but I make time for you when I can."
Y/n's gaze didn't waver and he cocked his head to the side. "You make time for me? Then where were you last evening?"
"I took Peter to the science fair."
"Even though we had plans to go to the movies?" The younger man pointed out.
Tony's eyebrows furrowed as realization dawned, shame washing over his face. "I'm sorry, Y/n. I know we had plans, but Peter needed me. I couldn't leave him."
The two Starks were so busy arguing that neither of them noticed a stealthy figure that managed to infiltrate the compound, temporarily disable Friday, and had a knockout device in their hand.
"Peter needed you?" Y/n shook his head, his voice thick with hurt. Why did he forget about me? "What about what I need? You're my dad, not his. I need you."
Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You have me every day, Y/n. Don't you see that I am always here for you?"
"Are you, Dad?!" Y/n's voice rose to a shout. "When was the last time we spent quality time together, just the two of us? When was the last time you and I had a real conversation that wasn't about your work or Peter? When was the last time you asked about what's going on in my life? You probably don't even know that my birthday is in two days. I'll be turning twenty-three, by the way. You don't know that one of my art pieces was presented at the museum you found too boring to visit. And you don't know that I made the Dean's List in school for the third year in a row!" Y/n's voice dropped to a whisper, but the words still stung like acid. "Mom would never treat me the way you do."
Tony flinched as if struck, his eyes widening at the mention of Y/n's mother. The weight of his son's words hit him like a physical blow, and he opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the room began to fill with a thick fog.
Y/n noticed it too, confusion clouding his face. But as more of the mysterious substance was released into the air, he dropped to his knees, his vision blurring. Tony staggered and slumped against the kitchen counter, his eyes falling shut.
And then, everything went dark. The gas in the room caused both father and son to collapse, slumping to the floor hard.
Later, once Y/n regained consciousness, his head pounded as he tried to piece together what happened. The last thing he remembered was the argument with Tony in the kitchen, and then everything went dark. But now, he found himself in an unfamiliar room, dimly lit by a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. The walls were made of rough concrete, and the floor was cold and hard beneath him.
"Y/n? Can you hear me?" Tony's voice, filled with concern, reached him, and he turned to see his father hovering nearby.
"Dad?" Y/n's throat was dry and scratchy as he tried to sit up, but dizziness forced him to lay back down. It's overwhelming.
Tony helped Y/n into a seated position against the concrete wall. "Easy there."
Y/n looked around. "Where are we?"
"I'm not sure," Tony admitted, his gaze scanning the room for any clues. "But it appears that we have been kidnapped."
Y/n's heart pounded in his chest as the reality of their situation sank in. Oh crap. He couldn't believe that they were in this predicament, but he didn’t know why he was completely surprised. Since he was a Stark, people have always attempted to kidnap him since the day he was born, but this was the first time someone had successfully managed to kidnap him.
And he couldn't shake the feeling that it was somehow his fault. If only he hadn't argued with his dad, they wouldn't have been distracted when their captor struck.
"I'm sorry, Y/n," Tony apologized, his eyes filled with remorse, and Y/n was slightly taken aback because he hadn’t been expecting that. "I should have been there for you more. I let my work and my relationship with Peter overshadow our bond. That was wrong of me to do that."
Y/n eyes drifted to his hands, clasped in his lap. "You know, it hurt every time you chose Peter over me," he admitted, his voice quiet. "I don't understand why you always favor him. Why is everything he does amazing, but when it comes to me, you're never satisfied? Was it something that I did wrong? Or didn't do? Because I can change if it means you'll love me."
Tony shook his head vigorously, moving closer to his son. "No, Y/n. I don't want you to change for anyone, especially not for me. I can admit that I haven't always handled things perfectly. Peter reminds me of myself at his age, and sometimes I get caught up in my own nostalgia. But that doesn't mean I love you any less, Y/n. You're my son. I'd do anything for you."
Y/n's heart swelled at his father's words. He forgave Tony the moment the words "I'm sorry" exited his lips. Y/n had never been one to hold grudges, and now that Tony had acknowledged his mistakes, he hoped that they could finally move forward and rebuild their relationship.
Y/n wrapped his arms around Tony, who reciprocated the gesture. "I just want to spend more time with you," he muttered. "You know, do all that father-son stuff."
"And we will," Tony promised, pulling away. "As soon as we get out of here, I'll clear my schedule for the next month. We can go to the Bahamas. The water is beautiful, and I know they have amazing art exhibits there. It can be my birthday present to you. It'll be just the two of us."
It was impossible for Y/n to refrain from allowing the corners of his mouth to curl upward into a smile. He experienced a sense of optimism for the first time in a long time. As he looked into his father's eyes, he was certain that he would fulfill his promise. Y/n couldn't help but feel like a ten-year-old on Christmas morning.
"I'd like that, but how are we going to get out of here?" That was the big question.
Tony smirked. "Leave that to my team."
He informed Y/n through sign language that he had a secret tracker implanted in his watch, which had been confiscated. The Avengers were aware of the tracker, so it wouldn't be long before they arrived.
And then, as if on cue, the door to the room they were in flew off its hinges by a man getting thrown through it. Then, Steve walked into the room, dressed in his Captain America outfit. Steve threw his shield at the cell the Starks were in, allowing the two men to finally escape.
"Tony, Y/n, are you guys okay?" Steve walked over to them and started looking for signs of harm or injuries of any kind, but was relieved that he didn’t find one.
"Just peachy," Tony assured the blonde, grabbing his watch from a nearby table and taking Y/n's arm. They rushed out of the building, with Steve leading the way.
As the three made their way out, Y/n heard the sounds of gunfire, screaming, and growling echoing in the air. The Hulk was in full force, dismantling one of the kidnappers, while the other Avengers fought alongside him. Steve sprang back into action, and Tony transformed his watch into an Iron Man glove, joining the fighting. Even Spider-Man was there, taking out multiple opponents with ease.
But in the chaos, Y/n spotted a gunman aiming at Spider-Man from a distance. Acting without hesitation, he pushed Spider-Man out of the way, taking the bullet meant for him. The gunshot tore through Y/n's stomach, and he fell to the ground, eyes widening in shock and pain.
Tony had just fired a beam of light from his repulsor, sending the man flying into the nearby truck. But as he did, he heard the crack of a gunshot. He looked over to see where the shot had come from.
And his heart dropped to his stomach.
Y/n had been shot.
The bullet had pierced Y/n’s stomach, and blood was already soaking through his shirt, dripping onto the ground below.
"No, Y/n!" Tony screamed, running over as Steve hurled his shield at the shooter. Tony caught Y/n just as he began to fall, blood seeping through Tony's fingers as he peeled off his jacket and pressed it against the wound. Y/n trembled in his arms, his hands shaking uncontrollably.
"D-Dad."
"I know, I know, it's going to be okay," he whispered, his voice thick and his eyes shone with unshed tears. "You're going to be okay, I promise." His jaw clenched as he peered over at his teammates who had finally finished their fight and were rushing over. "Get us to a hospital, now!"
They didn't need to be told twice. Steve moved forward and quickly helped Tony carry Y/n to the Quinjet, with the other Avengers following closely behind them. Once inside, Natasha took her place in the pilot seat and Clint sat in the co-pilot seat next to her. Natasha quickly turned on the controls and maneuvered the jet into the air above, racing to the hospital.
The Quinjet soared through the sky, the city a blur below. Inside, the atmosphere was filled with worry. Everyone watched as Iron Man tried to help his injured son. Tony refused to let go of Y/n, his hands shaking as he tried to stop the bleeding, mind racing with fear and desperation. He had faced countless dangers as Iron Man, but nothing compared to the fear he felt at the thought of losing his son.
Finally, the Quinjet landed on the rooftop helipad of Metro-General Hospital, and Steve and Bruce rushed out, carrying Y/n on a stretcher. Tony was right beside him, keeping his hands clasped in Y/n’s.
"We need a doctor, now!" Tony shouted as they burst through the hospital doors.
Immediately, a group of two doctors and two nurses came over, taking over Y/n's care and wheeling him away. And Tony was beside them, still holding his hand.
"What happened?" One of them asked.
"Some idiot shot him," Tony explained.
The medical team wheeled Y/n into the operating room fast. The female nurse commented how Y/n had a weak pulse rate as the group of medical specialists lifted him onto the bed. Tony held onto his hands, tears welling up in his eyes.
The male doctor assessed the situation, noticing a smaller entry wound in Y/n’s upper right back and a larger exit wound in his abdomen. "Lungs failing," he said, his voice steady but grave. "Start an I.V. — two units of O, stat." The female nurse hurried off to fulfill the order. The female doctor asked for adrenalin, and the male nurse rushed to comply with the request.
Tony stood by his son's side, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched the doctor's work. He couldn't remember a time he prayed, but he found himself silently pleading with any higher power that might be listening to spare his son's life. "Hang in there, son," he whispered.
Y/n struggled to speak, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t think I’ll make it. Guess I’ll be seeing my Mom soon…"
The billionaire's heart broke a little more. "Don't you dare die on me." Tony's voice was borderline pleading, begging for his son not to leave him. He has to survive.
But as the doctors worked frantically to save Y/n's life, his condition continued to deteriorate, his grip on Tony's hand weakening. "Dad," Y/n whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm so cold."
Hearing this, Tony couldn't hold back his tears, which fell onto his son's hand. "I-I-I can't feel my legs," he continued, making Tony feel an enormous sense of dread and despair. He wanted to leave, unable to continue witnessing his greatest fear unfolding before his eyes. However, Y/n gripped Tony's hand tightly. "D-Don't go." Their eyes met, and Y/n let out a gasp before managing to utter three words.
"I love you."
The heart monitor's steady beep began to slow, then faltered, finally falling silent as Y/n slipped into full arrest. Tony cried out, "Oh god." His hand clamped over his mouth as he watched his son flatlined.
"Full arrest. Paddles!" The male doctor shouted, and the female doctor brought over the paddle machine. Tony stepped back as he witnessed the scene unfold. The lady squirted gel on a paddle, and the male rubbed them together. "Clear!" He yelled and used the paddles on Y/n.
But it didn't work.
"Recharge," he barked, and she obeyed. "Clear!" He used the paddles once again.
Still, Y/n’s heart did not respond and the heart monitor remained silent. His grip fully weakened in Tony’s hand, and his eyes remained unmoving. Sadly, it was officially. Y/n, son of the billionaire, was dead. The male doctor looked at Tony with a mix of sympathy and sadness.
"I’m so sorry," the male doctor voiced.
And, just like that, Tony Stark broke.
He leaned over Y/n, his body heavy with grief, tears streaming down his face as he clutched his son's lifeless hand. The pain in his chest was unbearable as if his own heart had stopped beating. He couldn't believe his only child was gone.
Now, he would never witness his son's college graduation, celebrate another birthday, see him walk down the aisle, or become a dad himself. Y/n was gone, and Tony would never see his son again.
And Tony felt like he had died too.
His sobs echoed through the hospital room, a sound so full of anger and pain that it seemed to pierce the very air. The doctors and nurses quietly left the room, deciding to let the genius grieve alone.
"Y/n," he choked out, his voice breaking on his son's name. "Please... come back. I can't… I can't live life without you here."
But he knew that his son wasn't coming back, no matter how much he'd beg for it. That thought was unimaginable, a nightmare from which he couldn't wake.
He had failed his son, failed to keep him safe, and now, Tony was forced to face a world without the h/c haired male in it.
It was bad enough that the genius had been such a shitty dad to choose Peter over Y/n, but now he wouldn’t be able to show Y/n that he was fully committed to changing, to being the dad Y/n deserved.
That made his sobs grow louder.
The Avengers entered the room, their faces etched with sorrow. Each of them had faced countless battles, but nothing could have prepared them for the pain of watching one of their own lose a child.
Steve placed a hand on Tony's shoulder, a silent gesture of comfort for his friend. He knew that no words could ease the pain of such a loss, but he hoped that his presence would offer some solace. He took a moment to say a silent prayer for the man who was like a son to him.
Natasha's stoic expression cracked, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She had seen death countless times in her work, but this — this was different. This was one of their own, a part of their family.
Sam also couldn't hold back his tears. His vision blurred, and he wiped them away, not wanting to add to Tony's pain. But the pain was there, a dull ache in his chest that echoed the grief of his friend.
Clint had to look away, his jaw clenched. He had lost people before, but this was different. This was a young man, full of life, who left this cruel world too soon.
Bruce stood with his hands clasped in front of him. His eyes were downcast, but there was a hint of green in his eyes. He couldn't imagine the pain of losing a child, especially someone so wonderful.
Peter was the most visibly shaken and he felt somewhat responsible. If he had been more aware of his surroundings and saw the hidden shooter, then Y/n wouldn't have taken the bullet for him.
Parents shouldn’t have to bury their child, but Tony was going to bury his.
Tony's fingers trembled as he closed Y/n's eyes. "I’m sorry, son," his voice was a broken whisper. "I love you so, so much."
For Y/n, the light had gone out. For Tony, the darkness has never felt so complete.
Anonymous request: Imagine being Clint Barton’s son and a vigilante
“Oh dad is going to be pissed.”
You knew there was no explaining your way out of this one. This was supposed to be a difficult one but you had been confident you could handle yourself here. You were mistaken and now you had a bullet wound going through your shoulder. And it was, unmistakably, a bullet wound. A hospital would have to report it so you thought about stitching yourself up at home but since it was on your dominant arm, you didn’t think you could manage it.
You didn’t want your youngest siblings to see any of this - your injury or your outfit. They didn’t need to know you were out here doling out vigilante justice. That was not something that would go over well with them.
Instead, you gritted your teeth and called your dad.
“Dad,” you said when he picked up.
“Hey bud, what’s wrong?” You’d said only a single syllable but that was all he needed to hear to know something was wrong with you.
“I, uh, I need your help.” You winced as you spoke, trying to find some way to manage your wound for the moment. “I messed up.”
“Where are you? I’ll be right there.” He tried to keep the worry out of his voice but did a bad job of it. The way you were talking, the slight shake in your voice, he knew it had to be bad.
“I’m just ah,” you groaned as you shifted your position. “One sec.” You simply shared your phone’s location with him.
Clint looked at the location. It wasn’t too far away from where he’d been. He did wonder why the hell you were there but he knew he had to hold his questions until he figured out what was wrong.
“I’m on my way, hold tight okay?”
“’Kay.” You replied, slumping a bit against the wall.
Honestly you’d expected the blood loss to be worse. You guessed the pressure you had on it must be helping. Must have missed any major veins or something too. In a sense, maybe you were lucky. In every other sense though, you knew this was bad.
Time passed strangely as you waited. It was both interminably long and barely a few minutes. You saw the headlights and heard the screech of brakes mere seconds before your dad came down the alley toward you. In the darkness, he had to search a bit before catching sight of your form, still leaning heavily against a wall.
“What’s going on, what-” His questions were interrupted as his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he took in the sight of you. The dark clothes, no costume, the bow on the ground, and your hand, darkened with blood, clutching your shoulder.
“I’m sorry Dad,” you began, trying not to cry as you felt so much relief seeing him.
The weakness in your voice put any anger he might have felt in the moment on pause. He wanted to hug you tightly but clearly that was out of the question.
“What happened?” He asked, trying to sound calm as he gently reached out for your shoulder.
“I was trying to stop these guys, I was doing good, I thought I was doing so good, and then one of them got an angle and he, he shot me.”
You hadn’t taken an injury like this before. Scrapes and bruises sure. Even a possibly dislocated shoulder that you did have to get popped back into place at a clinic. But none of that had felt like this. None of those were mere inches away from death.
“Okay, I’ve got you.” He said. He cautiously felt around the wound, discerning as best he could what the situation was and how it would need to be treated. “Feels like it went all the way through, that’s actually good. It means we don’t have to get the bullet out. Here’s what we’re gonna do.”
Your dad peeled off his jacket and wrapped it around your arm, tying the sleeves tightly above the injury.
“Come on, let’s get you home and I’ll stitch you up.”
He picked up his bow from the ground and offered an arm to you. Leaning on your dad, you began to walk to the car. In your stillness, the blood loss hadn’t felt so bad. But walking, you felt the lightheadedness hit you and the pain again as your heart rate increased just by a bit.
Clint helped you into the passenger seat and carefully buckled you in, making sure your injury was protected, before getting behind the wheel and driving you home. The drive was silent, both of you doing a lot of thinking about the situation.
When you made it home, Clint slipped you to the bathroom and helped you sit down on the edge of bathtub while he got out a med kit. He helped unzip the black jacket you were wearing, sliding the sleeves down. Then, he took a pair of scissors and cut your shirt so he could access your arm without you needed to raise your arms.
“So, you want to explain to me what you were doing out there?” He asked as he began setting out the supplies he needed.
“I, well, I’ve been,” you tripped over your words, both from a fuzzy mind and being truly unprepared to answer, despite having the whole drive to think about it. “I was just trying to do something.”
“Something?” He questioned, as he wet a washcloth and began dabbing it on your shoulder.
You hissed at the pain of him cleaning the wound.
“I wanted to make a difference. You and the rest of the Avengers, you all save the world.” You took a deep breath. “I’m good with the bow.”
“[Y/N], you don’t have to be fighting aliens with a bow and arrow to be making a difference. And you don’t need to be saving the world yet. You need to be saving that GPA of yours.”
“Dad.” You rolled your eyes before flinching as he injected you with a local anesthetic. “Is that even legal?”
“About as legal as my kid running around like a vigilante.”
You had no response for that. Once the numbing kicked in, he began stitching up the bullet wounds.
“I’m sorry.” You said quietly. “I thought, I thought that I could be like you.”
Clint put down the needle as he finished and put a hand on your shoulder.
“I love you so much buddy. And I’m so proud of the man you’re growing up to be. You don’t have to be like me to make me proud, okay?”
“I know.” You did, you knew that if anything he would prefer you didn’t follow in his footsteps. “But I want to. I want to make it safer. I’ve seen what’s really out there.”
Clint really was so proud. You were convicted and driven and stubborn as hell. He was also so scared of what could happen to you.
“Tell you what, if you really want to do this, you’re going to do this the right way. No more sneaking out alone in the middle of the night. I’ll,” he took a deep breath, “I’ll help you train. If you want to do this, we do this together. No more solo act.”
“Deal.” You agreed. “You’re not going to tell mom about this are you?”
Can I request headcanons about being Tony Starks son?
Being Tony Stark’s Son
Tony Stark x Son!Reader
[MASTERLIST]
SUMMARY: The life of Tony Stark’s son through the years.
WARNINGS: Mentions of death, kidnapping, grief.
A/N: So sorry for the late reply, so much has happened. I understand you had requested this in 2024 and it’s now 2025. I didn’t expect it to take me so long. I’m not going to go into detail on why, as it’s personal. I hope that I had written this to your liking. This is headcanons, so it’s going to be bulleted. So much shit happened that I had to push it to the side. I hope you enjoy!
[GIF NOT MINE]
Of course, you were a product of a one night stand.
Your mother hooked up with your father one fateful 2006/7 night and of course she got pregnant.
A party and many drinks later led to your very existence.
Your father had never shared what happened with your mother, how he had gotten custody over you. So, there’s that part of the story you’ll never know the answer to.
Not that it mattered. She’s not around to tell her story, and knowing how you got here wasn’t going to change what happened to you.
Now, your father wasn’t the best in the beginning. Leaving you with babysitter after babysitter. Well, they were more like nannies that often got switched out. After all, he was still a playboy. Becoming a father would do little to hinder his lifestyle.
Until he became Ironman. You were about two when it happened, your only memory of the event was your father’s assistant. Was she an assistant? God, you can’t remember. She took care of you during his absence, when he was in that foreign country assumed to be dead.
If anything, the moment your father became Ironman was the moment he became a dad. Not your birth, not the moment he held you. The moment he grew into a better father was the moment he became Ironman.
The whole arc reactor thing mesmerized you. Your eyes would be glued to his chest as it glowed in dim lighting.
If anyone asked you what happened between the day your father became Ironman to the day the Avengers saved the world for the first time, you’d honestly wouldn’t be able to answer them. Those years hadn’t much to remember. After all, you were still a child during this time. If anything, the most adventure you had during those years was preschool, happy driving you around and being a begrudging babysitter when you were left unattended. As much as Peppy Potts (as you were to call her, her name wasn’t as easy as one would assume,) adored you, she was no babysitter.
Hell, even a brief memory of silent plans your father made in the case of his death would cross your mind. He was hiding a lot, those days.
Getting picked up in a non-extravagant vehicle was something that your father wasn’t too keen on. He was a flashy man with gimmicks only the rich could partake. And yet, it was done to keep you safe. Hell, you even had a false last name for the first few years of your life. You were too young to protect yourself. It was quickly done after some paparazzi got a whiff of the school you were attending and crowded the school just as you were getting out.
It was a stupid last name, too. It was a wonder you weren’t bullied by four year olds. Or kidnapped. Honestly, you were too trusting, too loving.
Well, you were kidnapped that one time. Loki got you. Thats honestly how you remember some bits and pieces of it all. It was such a scary few days. Spent a while shaking and bundled up. Met a few heros and spent quite a bit of time with your father. Once again, this triggered another onslaught of changes with your father. He spent time with you. An actual father.
The more you think about it, the more you realize you were far too young to comprehend the majority events of your past. The big bads, the small things. All you really remember is being a kid. You heard almost everything second-hand. You were there for such small increments, pushed off before it was too dangerous.
When Ultron came to fruition and the world’s safety was at risk, you were, once more, sent away. However, you remembered this one. You stayed with the Barton family once the Avengers had been sent there. You were roughly eight or so.
Clint’s kids were great, though. So was his wife. They were fun to play with. Especially Lila, she was closer to your age. Called Natasha her aunt. You want to call Natasha your aunt, too. A privilege that you had shyly asked for right before you were properly entrusted and left with the family.
Aunt Nat said yes.
You helped Mrs.Barton, as you were too afraid to ask her for her name, with whatever she asked her children of. You felt it would be unfair otherwise. Despite the insurance, you pushed on.
Lila played dolls with you, chased you through the fields. It was fun. Best friends forever, you’d say with a grin.
Going back home was not fun. Saying goodbye to the Barton’s tearfully, your father had begrudgingly agreed to let you visit sparsely. But visit nonetheless.
Your family got a little bigger.
Hell, you even got the guts to shyly ask Peppy to be your mom. By then, she had been dating your father and been such a big part of your life that she qualified for the title. Even took over driving you to and from school. Of course, with a normal looking car.
Your first birthday party that you properly enjoyed also happened in this time. You had friends attending, your father attending, your newfound mother attending. Even new aunts and uncles.
You even qualified for the gifted program. However, you contested. You were a smart kid, smarts practically ran in the family. But you didn’t want to change classes. You wanted to remain in the same classes as your friends. The need to nurture your smarts may not have occurred in school but it had with afterschool activities.
Tutors and small projects in which your help was enlisted had proved very valuable. In which you had showcased immense understanding.
At the staggering age of 9-10, during the time of what the press dubbed as ‘civil war,’ the enactment of the Superhero Registration Act, you were accepted into the Stark Internship. One of many, really. Without bias. One would assume it held some considering your age, but your father insisted, as well as your mother, it be done the proper way.
You were surrounded by teenagers, older than you. Even adults. Few got into the program. Including a rather nervous and anxious Peter Parker. Your father liked him. A lot. Hell, because of this you were in proximity with Peter often. Knew of his secrets.
”Peter,” you’d find yourself leaning over the teen’s shoulder one afternoon. He was having lunch with your father.
”Yeah?”
”Can you show me some cool tricks?”
Peter would look between you and your father. Nervous. “Go ahead,” your father would say.
Your favorite super hero, from then on, was Spider-Man. He became your favorite hero. Your big brother. Your babysitter. Ned Leeds, as you learned his name from Peter, asked you a plentiful of questions that you hardly knew the answer to once you met him. Primarily about what happened during those aforementioned fights you never witnessed.
About when you got kidnapped. That’s when Peter’s blood ran cold, panicking. You assured them it was fine. You hardly remembered it. Just bits and pieces. It doesn’t scare you anymore.
Life went on. Your father had a fight with Peter, Peter lost his internship, Peter got back his internship. He was still your older brother.
Now, once more, you were left out of it. But, the Blip, you were at school when it happened. Your father out in space and your mother worrying like no tomorrow. The last bell and you were on your way to the car. Students around you fizzled to nothing, parents and teachers too. You yelped, running to your mother.
A lot of calls were made. No Lila, no Peter, no dad. Your world crumbled, grades plummeting.
And then dad came home, skeletal.
There was a few weeks of finding a new normal. Mourning was not easy. Classes were quiet. And the impromptu move. Your parents got married and you were an older brother.
You started highschool. And honestly? It was rough. You thought about life a lot. You were being sent to Peter’s highschool, something you begged for once you entered middle school. You always wanted to be like him.
At 15 your father allowed you to tinker with some suits. Much like the anniversary gift for your mother, you were allowed to make your own. Not for proper use just yet, for experience. And for a father-son bonding. Sue him, you grew out of playing catch at seven and had been itching to create something remotely similar to the Ironman suit for years now. Might as well allow you to do something remotely similar under supervision.
Family time happened often. With Morgan constantly asking you to play with her, or mom asking you to help her with cooking. And, with dad consistently aiding you in this project.
You were never alone.
And then dad died and so many people came back from the dead.
Lila was still that kid. You were older than her now instead of the other way around. You desperately wanted to remain friends with her, best friends, but you felt odd, awkward.
Peter Parker wasn’t your big brother anymore. He was your equal. He was a grade ahead of you, and you shared electives. It was… So weird.
”Look… Look at how big you’ve gotten,” Peter would breathe once he got a good look at you, hands settling on your shoulders. “Oh, man. You… You look like…”
”My dad?”
”Yeah.”
You’ve been getting that one a lot now. You’ve grown into your features. Many of which recognizable and comparable to your father’s. It broke you once your mother pointed it out one day. A gentle hand resting upon your shoulder as you gone through a box of his old blueprints. “You look like your father, you know. Got his smile, his nose, his hair,” she’d tease by scrunching your your hair. You’d laugh it off, biting your cheek as a pit opened in your stomach.
Depression and anguish ate away at your limbs, the funeral taking more from you. Locked away in that bedroom, your sister would sit outside and ask you to come play. Despite having gained them back, you’ve felt… So lonely.
Peter dropped by often. A request from your mother. It was weird. This all felt wrong. Lila, too. Despite the age difference between you two, she insisted upon maintaining the friendship she still felt you had.
It’s hard. But it’ll get easier. An assurance.
They’d help you.
You started working on the suit again. And day by day, it’ll get easier. Just stay in contact with those you love. Make friends.
”The road to recovery ain’t easy, bud,” your mother would say on the harder days. A hand pressed firmly to your back. “What matters is you do what you can to get through it.”
And you took it to heart.
It’s finally done. Once again, I apologize for how long it has taken. Let me know if I need to fix anything, there’s any errors, or inconsistencies. Or, if it’s just plain bad. I hope you liked this and if you’d like me to expand on this, let me know!
Pairings: father Miguel O’Hara & gn!teen!venom!reader, Venom x teen!reader
Imagine: what it would be like to be Miguel’s son and a spider-man along with venom, spider-venom? Idk guys
Warnings: mention of death, mention of parent death, mention of injuries, father Miguel O’Hara, idk what else, not proofread
A/N keep in mind the first part of this is before Gabriella died. Second I am aware that Miguel has a son somewhere out there in the comics, third don’t mind me referencing Moon Knight in some parts, lastly this is actually based on one of my ocs, but I made this fic x reader instead :)
Side note: I did imagine reader to be male (like my oc is) but I made it gn!reader so that everyone can read it
You lived on earth-TRN1042 (is that the name, it was when I searched it up, might be wrong tho), with you father Miguel O’Hara and your sister Gabriella O’Hara
Your canon event as tragic as it is was to watch as your father died — which would eventually lead you to become Spider-Man
You’d been bitten a few days prior and was still adjusting to the whole power thing
But we are getting ahead of ourselves, Here’s the thing Miguel (earth-928) lost his family on his earth and when he found out a way to go into other earths he found your earth. The one where he still had a happy family
His original plan was to just watch from afar, but when your father died, Miguel made the rash decision to take your fathers place, which didn’t go as smoothly as he thought, after all you had watched your father die
At first you thought you were going crazy when you first saw Miguel, apparently he’d been with your sister all day. You didn’t trust him one but, you knew for a fact your father was dead so when you saw him playing with Gabriella and her dolls you were in shock, you’d told Gabriella to go to her room, once she did the interrogation started, you’d felt your father take his last breath so you sure as hell would find out who this imposter was.
“Who are you?”
“I’m your father”
“No, no, no, no, I watched my father die, who are you?”
Miguel knew you wouldn’t stop your interrogation until you knew what was going on, this led to him giving you a long explanation about different earths, his family and everything in between, how he got his powers and literally his whole life story, only to ensure that you would let him stay, he wouldn’t stay against your wishes
You let him stay, not only because you knew what loss felt like, but you hadn’t told Gabriella yet and you didn’t know how you could tell her that her actual father was dead, and it would prove to be good to have an adult raise your little sister with you, so you let Miguel stay, eventually you saw him as your father too, Gabrielle being none the wiser when it came to her fathers true identity.
The first time you called Miguel “dad” or something alike, he was overjoyed
Miguel didn’t really enjoy you going out to beat bad guys up but he never told you not to, he knew why you did it so he never stopped you, and he used to do it so it would be kinda hypocritical of him to force you to stop, instead he’d be at home, and every time you snuck in through your window you could find Miguel in the living room ready to patch you up, telling you of every time for being reckless and getting hurt so many times
Don’t be offended when he calls you an “reckless idiot” (he’d probably say it in Spanish though) when you get home nearly half dead (Miguel might of overreacted a bit)
It was around this time when you started to get memory gaps from time to time, some fights you didn’t even remember how you defeated the enemy, and some days you woke up in an alleyway, (kinda like Steven in episode one of moon knight)
Before it all went to shit I’d like to think that Miguel gave up on the spider-man part of him and was just a single dad with his two kids working a boring job — not at Alcehmax, he won’t do that mistake again
You all lived rather peacefully for the most part, you’d help Gabriella get better at football/soccer, going to an ice cream shop every time after one of Gabriella’s matches, loss or win didn’t matter there was always ice cream after a match.
And then in a single day it all got taken away from you, in just a couple of minutes all you had ever known was gone
Your whole earth started to disappear along with the people in it, you’d been out on your daily spider-man patrols when it happened, you saw your father/Miguel running with Gabriella and so instead of trying to stop whatever was happening — or more like knowing you couldn’t stop it as you had no clue what it was — you went into the direction of your family.
And when your sister disappeared you didn’t know what to do anymore, Miguel at least able to think somewhat took your hand and soon enough you were on earth-928, and from a screen you watched as your dimension disappeared into nothingness
This left many questions and problems but the question you were mostly focused on was the fact that you hadn’t disappeared
Turns out the spider that bit you had bonded (idk if this works but it does now) with a symbiote — Venom — who was from another earth, and when the spider bit you, you’d not only gained spider-powers but Venom transferred over to you and the two of you bonded, this changed your DNA and caused you to be able to coexist on your own earth along with the earth that Venom was from (does this make sense ain’t got a single clue)
Turns out Venom hadn’t made an appearance (to your knowledge and Miguel’s) because he protected you whenever you couldn’t yourself, and all those memory gaps that you had was the times that Venom had taken over (you know kinda like Jake with Steven and Marc in Moon Knight)
Fast forward a bit and you’d joined the spider-society
You had learned to coexist with Venom, it took some time but it worked out in the end, at first people would think you were crazy as you yelled at nothing (except for you you were talking to Venom who was speaking inside your mind), a lot of spider-people stayed away from you not wanting to be near Venom as he is supposed to be a villain, but when they realized you were one of the good guys they stopped avoiding you and Venom
Venom would deny it to his grave but he is extremely protective over you, if anyone hurt you he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt/kill/eat them
Miguel also became way more protective, after he lost Gabriella he only had you left and he would only send you out on the easy missions — that is until you snuck out on one of their worsts missions and got hurt because no one else new you were there — cue Miguel letting you go on dangerous missions so that you wouldn’t sneak out again and possibly die, at leas if he knew where you were he could make sure you didn’t die.
Not only did Miguel become more grumpy and strict with all the rules, you also become a lot more grumpy as you grieved your sister, and friends
And then all the shit with Miles happened but that’s for part 2,3 (part 2 siding with Miles, part 3 siding with Miguel idk which will come out first)
rossi fostering a teenager (the reader)? like he went through something traumatic and rossi felt bad so he took the reader in, and the reader doesn't really like rossi? but he really likes stuffed animals so one day he shows up at the bureau and handing rossi a stuffed animal as a sign of affection and the team is confused with who this random kid is 💀
Ayeee I see the Mario reference. I hope you like it my friend ⚰,
Warnings! Y/n is a survivor of human trafficking, lack of trust, Slight angst but mostly fluff.
DAVE ROSSI X ADOPTED TEEN SON READER
"I'm looking to adopt Y/n M/n L/n (Age) old. In his file it says he got here because of a traumatic situation."
Rossi says looking at the director of the orphanage. "Yes it's true. The reason why it doesn't state the accident is because Y/n requested it to not be." The woman answers.
The woman opens one of the drawers in her desk looking through the many files before taking one and handing it to Dave. "It's Y/n's personal file." Dave takes the file and opens it carefully.
"He went through human sex trafficking to zero to the age of twelve. His mother sold him for drugs and money..." Dave reads out loud feeling his heart aches for the teenage male. "Poor boy." Dave announces closing the file and hands it back to the woman.
"How he escaped was legendary. He had cut off some heads of some stuffed animals and gotten small paper and wrote messages for help and placed them inside then he would put the head back to its place then give them to any adult he saw." The woman says looking through some things before picking up an old picture of a stuffed animal.
"I think you can really do something for this boy Mr Rossi. And I hope Y/n can see that."
The rest of the meeting follows signing legal papers and all that so Rossi can adopt Y/n. Once everything was good and checked Rossi could finally see his new son.
The pair had already met when Rossi was looking for a kid, but it was silent the whole time. Dave had sat down next to Y/n letting him get used to his presence. Y/n barely gave Dave a look, but what shocked some of the staff that Y/n didn't run away from Dave. He only stayed still as Dave watched him.
"Y/n? Is all your stuff packed, honey?" One of the staff asks standing in Y/n's room doorway. Dave stands behind her looking at Y/n.
Y/n sitting on the floor in the middle of the room back turned from the door trying to stuff his suitcases with the stuffed animals.
"Y/n. I don't think Mr Rossi would like all the stuffed animals at his house." The staff says earning Y/n saying something under his breath.
"It's okay. I don't mind at all Y/n. In fact let me help you out." Dave says quickly walking into the room crouching down next to Y/n picking up the toys that couldn't fit in his suitcase.
Y/n side eyes Dave before closing his suitcase before getting up off the floor picking up his other suitcases. Dave walks out of the room making sure Y/n is following him before leaving the orphanage and heading to his car. Dave helps Y/n with his bags putting them all in the back before going inside the car as Y/n goes into the passenger seat.
The drive home is silent only music is clearing up the silent car ride. "Dave..." Y/n says under bis breath. Dave almost didn't catch it until it registered in his brain. "Yeah kid?" "I don't wanna go back there. Never again Dave. It was like the same system I used to be in and I can't stand it." Y/n tells him holding the stuffed animal in his lap tightly.
"Don't worry Y/n. You aren't going to that place as long as I'm around. You have my word." Dave responds back with a smile on his face reaching his hand out to Y/n's head rubbing the back off it before putting it back on the wheel. For once Y/n trusted a smile he got from the different people in his life. But Y/n felt like he couldn't let his guard down just yet. He just couldn't.
Months go by of Rossi trying to prove himself to Y/n. Rossi helped and taught Y/n everything he knows. (even how to get the ladies.) But Y/n wouldn't let his guard down for a second. Dave understood why and never pressured Y/n once during their new father and son relationship.
Day by day Y/n begins to warm up with Dave. Even started calling him dad and added Rossi with his name replacing L/n. Dave knew that Y/n didn't like him, but hes glad that he trusts him even if it's a little. One of the things Y/n liked most was he never rushed him. Dave didn't force Y/n to tell him anything. Dave was gentle and patient with him and that caught Y/n off guard.
So one Y/n learned Dave was an FBI agent Y/n started to give stuffed animals to Dave as a good luck charm. Y/n would go to Dave's work bag and put a new stuffed animal each day and the day after he would take the old one and give the bag a new one.
But one day Y/n had forgotten to give him one and Y/n felt his heart sank. "What if he dies." "What if he doesn't come back home." "What if he got kidnapped." What if and more and more comes to Y/n mind as he walks around the hallways in school.
"That can't happen. Hes the only one I have left." Y/n thinks to himself looking at the exits out the school. "I have to give this to him. Just to make sure." Y/n thinks to himself one last time before looking around for any staff. Once it was clear Y/n rushes out the exit running out of school and its property.
Once Y/n was out of school grounds he took the stuffed lion out of his backpack and held it tightly making his way through the busy streets and neighborhood. After a while Y/n becomes hungry and goes to a coffee shop buying himself some food to go and buys his father a cup of coffee to go as well.
Walking more miles Y/n finally makes it to the station. Y/n stands on the sidewalk making sure it's the right one before heading straight in. Y/n ignores and speed walks past the guards and other cops trying to stop him.
"Young man stop right there!" One cop shouts jogging after Y/n.
Y/n holds onto the lion tighter rushing past the cops trying to stop him. And finally he sees his dad in some meeting room with some other strangers. "Dad..." Y/n says out loud before barging in.
"So the unsub is most likely a young boy-" Morgan gets cut off by the door slamming open then getting slammed shut.
The teams head all turn around looking at the stranger. The stranger walks to Rossi handing him a stuffed lion and a coffee before turning back around about to leave.
But sadly Y/n's exit is blocked by a series of agents and cops.
"Thank you Y/n. I would probably have gotten hurt in the future wasn't it for you. And thanks for the coffee." Dave thanks his son putting the lion on the table.
"Is there a problem?" Dave asks looking at the group of agents.
"Sir do you know this kid?"
"Yeah sure hope so hes my son." Dave answers with a smirk getting out of his seat pulling Y/n's arm back so hes closer to him.
"He isn't the best with words and affection, so he learned a way to show me his own type of affection by giving him the things he loves most. Stuffed animals." Dave says trying to clear up the confusion as why the hell is this kid here.
"And today he forgot to give me my lil good luck charm, so he ditched school to give me it. Hope that helps." Rossi adds looking at all the confused faces.
Rossi turns to his team and says "Guys meet Y/n. Y/n meet the team. I'll give you a run down of who they are once we get home. And since you came all the way here to help me out. Later we are go to the mall and buy some new stuff animals. Dave says taking off his suit jacket putting it on Y/n's shoulders before putting a strong hand on his back guiding him out the room and past the people.
The team watches as Dave takes Y/n to an empty desk and chair and pull a chair next to the desk starting a conversation with his son as Y/n take out the food he bought.
"So. Who the hell knew or even thought Rossi had a kid." Morgan says looking at all the profilers in the room.
"And to guess everyday he has to work with the FBI none of us had a clue that he had a kid." Hotch adds.
