Imagine If You Assembled The Avengers: Volume 2

I'm Standing Right Here (dad!Tony x reader)

Being the daughter of Tony Stark should have been so much more different than this; your friends always saw the fun side of it, the cool tech, the opulence of your homes on either side of the country, and the Avengers, of course. They thought that you had the best life and that you were so lucky to have born into the Stark name, and they enjoyed every moment of living vicariously though you because of it. But to you, it was none of that. It wasn't all fun and playtime at any given hour of the day; you barely saw your father anymore, and it wasn't for lack of trying. He was just never there.

Natasha saw this early on, within a few months of you moving into the compound at Tony's insistence. When you first arrived he was at your side all of the time, showing you around, getting your input on designs that he was working on, how it would look best to decorate, even down to asking your opinion on the grocery list while knowing that FRIDAY had it well taken care of. Tony wanted you to feel welcome and at home there, and while it was like that in the beginning, it quickly began to unravel, and Nat felt like it was up to her to pick up the slack as the surrogate mother that you suddenly felt a desperate need for.

Steve took on the role of protective big brother like it was a role that he was meant to play, even more so than the Captain America persona that he had spent so many years in. This was different and much more personal to him, and you were eager to let him be there for you when Tony wasn't. It wasn't unusual to have a heavy arm wrapped around your shoulder as he walked with you, or to find yourself huddled under the same blanket on movie night, even if Tony was nearby and could have done the same; Steve was readily your protector, even if that meant from the dysfunction brought by your own father.

"It's just stress," Wanda tried to reassure you on a particularly difficult day, following you to your room when you wanted nothing more than to cry it out alone. "(Y/N), please, let me help."

"I don't need your help, Wanda," you argued between sobs, "I need my Dad. I wish he never would have brought me here. It would be easier if he wasn't in my life at all."

"Come on, that's not true."

She was right, of course, but that didn't make it feel less true in the moment. "Yeah...fine, you're right," you relented, "but it still feels that way." Once inside your room, you flopped yourself down onto your bed, face-first, buried in one of your pillows to muffle your voice and a string of profanities that you really didn't want your friend to hear.

"I heard that."

"How?!" you laughed, lifting your head to look at her in surprise. "No way!"

"I don't listen with my ears alone, (Y/N), you should know that by now."

"Hmph, whatever, smartass," you groaned rolling over and onto your back, waiting to feel the mattress sink when she took a seat next to you. "Then if you're so omnipotent, tell me what's going on with Dad. It's not just stress, so please, spare me the bullshit."

"Are you really gonna make me say it?" Steve offered from the door that you had left open, his arms crossed authoritatively. "It makes me feel like a walking cliché, doll."

"No, I'm sorry, Cap. I won't make you say it."

"Good," he nodded eagerly, pushing the door closed behind him so that he could join you both. He took his usual spot at your side, kicking his shoes off before hopping onto the bed next to you with his arm extended and ready to pull you in. "Come on, tell me what's wrong."

"You can't always be the one to save me, Steve. It's not your job."

"Well, ouch. I'll try to not take that personally."