Frozen Heart (Peter Parker x Male!Stark!Reader)

Payoff?

You met your father downstairs on the main Avenger's floor, in the kitchen.

He motioned for you to sit at the kitchen counter, and with a heavily skeptical look, you sat on one of the stools.

"Alright father Gothel, what did I do this time?" You asked before Tony could start talking.

Tony didn't seem to like the comment, a flash of some emotion crossing his face. Hurt? Regret? You had never been very good with reading expressions, especially when you couldn't care less about his. He knew that of you

He sighed, took a long drink of the drink in his hand (it was a mug, so you assumed coffee, but you didn't think him above drinking alcohol at 9am on a Tuesday), and then set the mug down. "Look, kid, I thought about what you said, and I've decided you're right."

You suddenly looked to him with interest. Most of what you said to your father was some form of complaint or criticism, and you quickly went over a mental list of whatever it is you would've been right about.

Deserving to know what happened to your mother? Being allowed out of the tower? Wanting to have the ability to make, any friends your own age?

Becoming an Avenger?

The thought filled you with excitement. Could this be it? Would this finally be the payoff of all the training Tony had put you through, all the training and practice you'd done on your own?

"I know you've been upset since Spider-Man got involved with the team-"

The name made you groan immediately. 

The first time you'd heard about Spider-Man, he'd been referred to as "The kid" in the same way your dad and the Avengers referred to you, and at first you'd thought that was who they were talking about.

When you had found out that you were not, in fact, the subject of the conversation, but rather, the boy your father had sought out to fight with him against Captain America in the fight you had been specifically told was no place for kids like you was, you were absolutely pissed.

You had spent the time since brooding in your space, more so than usual. The floor had been so cold it had traveled to some of the neighboring floors, and then you'd run so cold you'd accidentally caused a pipe in the tower to burst.

In hindsight, that probably lessened your chance of becoming and Avenger, both because of how big of an inconvenience that was, but also because it made you look like you couldn't control your powers. And that was true, sometimes, when you let your emotions get control over you. You hated when that happened, and you hated that you could feel the disappointment in others and yourself.

You had wondered, in all the time since you found out, what Spider-Man had that you didn't. You wouldn't say you obsessed over it, but when you have so little to do all day, your mind tends to grip onto whatever it can. You'd watched videos of Spider-Bitch in action, and it had only made you more upset.

He was sporadic, relying on his abilities and his tech rather than any sort of strategy. The exact opposite of the careful practice and training you'd had since you'd come to live with your dad. Every scenario drill you'd run, in case of an emergency or a villain attack, he went against. He was unpredictable and so clearly and painfully untrained.

And yet Tony chose him.

The thought burned in your mind at night, taunting you.

Not that you wanted validation from that thing you had to call a father. Why would you? He didn't care about you, and you didn't care about him. End of story.

You'd seen Spider-Man and Tony together once or twice, and you saw how differently from you he treated the young hero easily. Like a son. Like a real son, and not one he'd known for only three, miserable years.

But he had known Spider-Man for an even shorter time. Yet the bug always looked better beside your father than you ever had. Jealousy burned beneath your skin.

Were you just the worse Stark?

You shook your head, clearing the frustrated thoughts as your father went on. Him bringing up Spider-Man only meant the topic was closer to that of becoming an Avenger.

"-and though I'm still not making you an Avenger," Tony continued.

Your face dropped, but your father kept talking before you could protest.

"I have decided you do need some more freedom. So, like you asked, I'm enrolling you back in school."

You felt a surge of excitement, one that fizzled out relatively quickly. Would Tony really leave you unmonitored in a public space for that long? Did he think you'd believe that.

You gazed at your father suspiciously. "What's the catch, old man? Do I have to have a bodyguard on my tail all the time? It's it actually virtual? Full of robots? Or did you become a principal just to monitor me or something?"

"Old- You're very argumentative for someone who is getting what he wanted."

You rolled your eyes.

"Now, there are some rules-" Tony began again, only to be interrupted.

"Of course there are."

Tony rubbed the bridge of his nose with this thumb and pointer finger. You might've felt bad for annoying him if he were anyone else. He'd be glad to be rid of you most of the days, he could stand to be bothered a bit more. "You'll have to go by an alias. You'll be a Scott, not a Stark. It puts us in danger if anyone even suspects I might have a son."

Or perhaps it puts you in danger of being embarrassed by your disappointment of a Stark.

"...And you won't be allowed to tell anyone you're a Stark." Tony explained, "While I trust in your training, if so much as one person finds out about your powers, you're back here got it? I don't want any reports about a frozen school in New York."

"I'll think about it," you reply, only joking, although your tone is rather monotonous.

"I'm serious. You start in a week."