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jackiequick · 2 years ago

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Meet more of the family, Miss Stark & The Youngest Barnes | Marvel OC

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Liv Stark ⌚️

Full name: Olivia Charlotte Stark-Vega

Nicknames: Liv, Vi, Lottie, Lola, Clary, Char, Charlie, Miss Vega, Snark Central

Age range: 5-18

Height: 5’1

Relationship status: Single

Background: American with Peruvian, Polish and Italian descent

Father: Anthony Stark

Godmother: Elizabeth Stark

Godfather: Jason Underwood

Brother & Sister: Rei and Morgan Stark

Step-mom: Pepper Potts

Uncles: James Rhodes, Happy Hogan & rest of The Avengers

Abilities: A bit of geek and hacker due to her love of technology, basic hand to hand combat since she enjoys boxing and her witty personality. She’s young so she hasn’t gotten plenty of skills yet.

Personality: Liv has a smart touch, gentle soul, sweet, charming and easy going. She is a bit of a bitchy girl and stubborn about everything she does. If she wants to do something, she will probably sneak out to get it done. She got a some of anxiety and a nervous twitch (which would grow over the years since Liv is afraid of being alone and in the dark about a lot of things), this creeping fear and sadness that will take over her if not careful.

- However Liv is very accident prone, she’s always getting hurt one way or another, giving everyone an heart attack since the age of 9 since she’s always been a active little girl. So in result she give Tony and something for Rei to roll his eyes about.

- From an young age, she has always been into tech, jewelry and over all. Wanting to build and grow a her own little things, she was a Stark it’s a given! She watched a lot of movies so she got creative with her ideas.

- Random fun fact, one of her favorite movies is 10 Things I Hate About You, just because she likes Kat Stratford’s aesthetic and attitude. But it’s many Action Movies and Rom-Coms that she will watch with Pepper, that she enjoyed. It’s where she gets her inspiration for things.

- She adored the idea staying in the lab, tinkering and cleaning up the inventions that were made. She practically lived in there, staying home to help and learn. It caused never want to leave that house in general, having a bit of mouth on her after hearing the adults always speak their minds (so don’t be surprised this girl start rambling and throws out whatever bullshit that appears in her thoughts), but it allowed her to be a safe within those four walls.

- It didn’t take long for her to start filling up a notebook with designs on how to incorporate technology into fine jewelry (aka The Stark Watch, necklaces to tracking and security measures, bracelets to be use for defense purposes and rings can be transformed into gauntlet).

- She’s always been bit of business women! Wanting to create products to help people, keeping an eye on things from behind the scenes, represent and model for Stark industries and such.

- But she was still so young, so her parents and siblings didn’t want her to grow up so soon in the spotlight of it. She’s a kid! And she understood that, it bothered her but she understood why. So she stays hoping her time could come where she can help out the group.

—> Because little did she know that theses little gadgets and gizmos that would be incorporated into the ideas her father and older brother would use as fashion purposes in the future with their own suits. Aka they’re Iron Man suits!

—> I know you may be wondering about her family life, well Liv raised well per say. She had to move around a lot as a child, especially since Tony never wanted the public attention to be on her just yet and her mother wasn’t sure that she would taken care of. It took convincing from Pepper and Jason to let her stay home with them, so everything was fine after that.

Her relationship with her father was an nice one. When it comes to parenting his kids, Tony was a rather dramatic, embarrassingly loud at times, a little cocky and stubborn parent per day, so it’s a bit difficult to get him to calm down and talk softly with him. Tony cares a lot about his children, having Rei and Liv to take care of but he was always busy with the company having to arrive home late, events he had to attend and ending up being tired.

Other than that, he tried to make time for his son and daughter, bringing them to the lab and everywhere he could. Even if he got in trouble afterwards. Tony always tries to inspire his daughter to do what she loves and experience things, be caring, make sure she was alright too and etc. But they make it work!

Ohh, did I forget to mention how annoying and protective Tony can be as a parent? He will take everything very seriously or not serious at all, acting out if something goes wrong and he tends to be questioning his motives. Even blaming himself if something bad were to happen to his family. Tell Tony Stark you have a crush? He sends JARVIS to keep an eye on you. Ask Tony for something like a new backpack for school? He buys you something else.

In his defense, he does everything with so much love (even if he doesn’t always portray it in the best way).

Her relationship with Rei however—you wouldn’t think it but rather wholesome, since she’s the little sister he never exactly wanted. They were completely opposite to one another, he’s grumpy and she’s easygoing, he rather work alone in silence and she rather work with music blasting and etc. But as much as Rei may be annoyed and want to throw his little sister out of the house, deep down he cares about her, even though he didn’t show it to her very often and he’s very protective of her ever since he was a child.

Rei and their father, always trying to keep Liv out of harms way and safe at home. Even if they tend to fail at times.

Since Tony was always busy, Rei tends to be one to look out for Liv and keep her in check, being her personal bodyguard for everything she does. If it was up to him, Rei would wrap his baby sister in bubble wrap and not let her leave the house!!

When they were kids (and even now) Liv would follow Rei wherever he went and wanting to copy him, be like her big brother because he always around the corner with something snarky to say to her and a huge potty mouth (it resulted in her having a huge attitude as well). She will always be the one to encourage Rei’s designs for suits and talk to dad about something.

He talks and she will absolutely love to listen to him (even if 85% of the time she has no idea what he’s talking, cause he’s smarter than her at a lot of things.)

Sometimes you will find Liv in a moody way shutting everyone out of her room and just curled up in a ball, similar to brother and to be honest, it concerns Rei a bit when it happens. But he would probably try to snap her out of it, even not he will let her be in her moody moments. He knows how it is

At the end of the day, no matter how different they were with one another and the paths they choose, they cared in their own way. Even if when they’re public, they act like they don’t know one another.

—> As for her relationship with the Avengers and Young Avengers! Ooof let’s stick to first impressions, shall we?

She met all of them when she just a child, joining Rei and Tony on a simple basis day with the group. She first started watching her father talking with Bruce Banner, and she took a liking to him very much seeing how nice, gentle and reserved he can be. But there an edge to him, that she found to be cool.

As for when she met Rick, it was when him and Rei were chatting. Her first impression of him, to her the young man is that he looked like a old school Disney Channel Star with a nice smile and warmth, with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

So when she saw Bruce, Rick, Rei and Tony all work together in their own separate labs blasting music so loudly..the only thing Vi said, “Oh no, there’s 4 of them!”

When she met Natasha, she just cool and rather chill per say acting like the nonsense agent with a soft side. Romanoff’s daughter on the other hand, she was just curious about her and Vi liked that.

Same thing goes for Clint and his daughter, they were just cool people. She was always amazed with the skills they had, and a part of her always knew that Clint Barton was a family man. And she was right, when they appeared at the Barton’s Barn years later.

Meira and Luna were just so relaxed, gentle and sweet girls. She adored how they acted with their teammates and siblings, especially Meira since she was a little sister just like her. Sweet and snarky.

Ethan was just super chill and suspicious of everything, Rei didn’t like him and carried Vi alway from from very quickly. Cole was just so mischievous, snarky smile and tossing jokes every day, making Vi laugh or snort. But a part of her respected him greatly, cause she heard he was VERY powerful.

Liane, well she didn’t like her right away. She annoyed Olivia very quickly and she sent painful glared toward the girl who tried to make friends with her. After a while she softened toward Ms Felton, but it took a long time cause she saw Rei didn’t like her either.

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Daphnia Barnes-Wilson 🪫

Full name: Daphnia Ramona Wilson-Barnes

Nicknames: Daphne, Nia, Daph, DD, Sparky, Daffy, Fifi, Birdie,

Other name while on the run: Davina, Robin

Age range: 7–20

Height: 5’7

Relationship status: Single

Parents: Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson

Background: American with Mexican and Chilean Origin

Aunt: Sarah Wilson

Uncle: Steve Rogers

Sister: Laurie Wilson

Brother: Benjamin Barnes

Abilities: Marksmanship and Acrobatics, having took some gymnastics classes. She’s also a bit of a fast learner so she’s fluent in English, Spanish, Russian, Portuguese and some French.

Personality: Gentle, a little broken due to being let down a lot in life, warm-hearted, clumsy, a bit shy and humorous at times. But if she’s anything like her fathers, she’s stubborn enough, a little self-sacrificing, and willingly to help no matter what.

- Sam and Bucky have been together for a while now, since their chemistry was a challenging one it always hard to settle down and figure out what they want. However a house, family and future for their kids was always one of them.

- They already had Laurie and Benjamin, so they thought two kids was enough as it is. But things took a small turn when they stumble at a orphanage in Brazil for a mission and met this no named little girl who gave both of them the most honest smile.

- Sam has always been one to have a big heart, so wanting a big family was always part of that. So his heart spoke before his words ever could, wanting to adopt her. Bucky Barnes on the other hand was a little hesitant—well more like worried—about the whole thing, he always wanted a little piece of normalcy and he got it with Sam and their kids. But adding a 3rd? That was a lot of responsibility, but he caved as soon as he hung out with the girl.

- To be honest, they saw a bit of themselves in her. So she was adopted when she less than 10 years old and brought into a family of oddly comforting heroes. They named gave her a name and did everything they could to make her feel comfortable. Welcomed.

—> So Davina (or Daphne) as they called her grow up with her parents and siblings. As loved as she was, she always felt alone and feared that it will all be taken away from her. Especially with the fact that her parents were heroes themselves, there was always a chance that they can end up hurt or worse, if not careful.

- But Bucky always made sure to tell her and every single one of his children, “Don’t worry, I’ll always come back home to you guys, no matter how long it takes.” And Sam would tell them, “You’re our kids, we will always love you and be there to tuck you in bed whenever we can.”

- Sometimes they would be gone for 2-3 days, maybe a week or a whole month leaving the kids in care of family and friends. Laurie was the oldest of the siblings, so they could handle themselves very well and or sneak off to join the fight ending with them in trouble. Benjamin being the second oldest, so he rather stay behind during the fight and stay with his sisters and friends.

- Speaking of fights and travel, when if plenty say battle isn’t place for children. Sometimes Sam and Bucky had no choice but to bring there kids with them to places like Wakanda, Stark Tower, France and or let’s say Germany for instance. Even though it was a hassle to bring children along for the ride, it was an interesting learning experience and a way to test out their kids

- And to be honest, Daph and her siblings enjoy it a little too much. Cracking jokes, running around, exploring different places and meeting interesting people, and creating new ideas among one another. It was a field trip for them sometimes.

-> And if your wondering, yes Daphnia is team #HateJohnWalker! When she found out, she was ready to take her baseball bat and wack his head with it, demanding the Shield back with a glare. Bucky couldn’t be more prouder of her in that moment laughing, meanwhile Sam rolled his eyes unable to believe what he heard.

- Random fun fact, she played baseball before she was ever adopted and had really good aim, depending on where she was hitting. It was a trait her siblings carried on as well, especially Benjamin even if he was more reserved one, he had a great aim.

- She always loved any sport that involves movement and play, soccer being one of them (since she lived in Brazil for a while). She liked to think she was rather talented when it came to that, even if she was a problem when it came to being around other kids, having a small temper and glaring at other people. Mainly, it was her insecurity that she hid underneath her own glares.

- Matter a fact all the kids were talented in their own way ever since they were younger. Daphne when she was very little, believed at the time that she didn’t have any good talents and wasn’t as smart enough as it is. Until Sam took her out to the shopping and noticed that she stopped in front of small gymnastics building with wide eyes, softly grinning at the sight. She pleaded for him to let her walk in and see the girls, he nodded letting her watch. As she did, Daph realized she wanted to join in on the fun and dance as well. Sam couldn’t stop himself and called Bucky for his opinion on it.

- She started her classes soon enough and enjoyed it for the most part, her body was rather sore after some classes. So she wasn’t too happy about that part. When Bucky told Nat about it, the Russian spy came in shocked and said, “If she wanted to learn some acrobatics, why didn’t you come to me or Lydia? Barton would’ve showed her!”

- Bucky just rolled his eyes and replied, “Cause she wanted that to be her own thing. And it doesn’t hurt to have some normalcy around her, Romanoff. I think it’s a good thing..” And Bucky was right about that, since he loved seeing his husband and children happy, enjoying themselves and having a break from the hero world. Hell, he goes to every talent show, buys items needed and participates in whatever is needed. Even if he’s not too happy about it at first.

- Of course as much as acrobatics were her own thing and all she ever wanted to do, so she can have that skill set. That didn’t stop the idea of having good marksmanship in her left corner, she was already good with a baseball bat and Bucky was more than happy to show the basics of how to hold/use a gun to his kids. Sam wasn’t too pleased about that idea though saying, “They’re too young!”

- And to be honest, Daph was pretty good with a gun. Swinging it swiftly and tossing the gun in her hands, holding it up to her target (which was an old target board hanging outside nearby the trees). However that didn’t mean she didn’t play around with the gun at first, holding in her hands and pretending to be a spy. “Barnes, but you can call Agent Daphnia Wilson, at your service.” She said with a giggle, humoring herself.

- Daph was always a little silly, cocky and daring. Not thinking first and asking questions later kinda gal—oops! So it lead her to getting in trouble sometimes, breaking certain curfews if she out at the movies with a friend (like with one of the young avengers), being a little lazy about things and running away from her problems like a champ. But by the end of the day, she was good girl.

-> Speaking of Young Avengers and Older Avengers. You’re probably wondering who’s her favorites are and first impression were of the teams huh? Well, here are your answers.

Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff were a given to being liked by her, due to her parents being friends with them. I mean come on, they are basically Captain America, The Black Widow and the rest of Cap’s Quarter.

Moving down the list Thor was always a silly man to her, hearing stories how he speaks in old English and is very noble when it comes to the things that he does. According to the stories from Sam, he was a rather loud fella with a good heart.

Clint Barton, she took a liking too finding his simple ways of life and honest charm to be a nice thing to see. Plus Clint has a similar murder stare to Bucky, so it was funny to see their resting faces when they’re in the same room together.

The man, the myth, the legend himself (or that’s at least what people like to say) Tony Stark was always one of a kind. She was very nervous to meet all of The Avengers, one of them being Stark having seen how the persona he displayed on TV screens and the stories. But in reality, Tony was just a genius goof with snarky humor, so it lighten up her mood.

It was like Bruce Banner sensed her nervousness from a mile away since she appeared in The Tower. He noticed the child behind Sam Wilson holding her jacket, leaned down to her level to kindly introduce himself to the girl and watching parents reactions. Soon enough, with Bucky leaning against the wall with a nod of encouragement, Daph started talking to Bruce with such softness and gentleness.

As for the rest of them, she met them some time later. The Young Avengers. She met the Stark siblings, Rei wasn’t in the lightest mood having no like the idea of meeting Barnes or Wilson’s kids but Olivia gave her a warm welcome and waved at her before rushing off to meet her friends at the mall.

Natasha Romanoff’s daughter Rochelle was kind enough to show her and her siblings around, chatting with them knowing it felt to be the new kids. Daph liked her reddish hair and kind smile.

Liane was something else, having been on a rambling mess when she met Daph and trying to figure out what to do with her plans. Laurie laughed as her sister snicker at the blonde, meanwhile Benji just rolled his eyes confused wanting to get away from there.

Meira was and will always be a delight to meet, since Daphnia met her that same week in The Tower’s kitchen and taste testing her new batch of cookies. They were delicious.

Speaking of food, when Daphnia met Rick she got the same warmth and kindness she remembered from being Bruce. But this time it involved snacks and jokes around his week at The Tower, she was all ears listening to him as they entered the kitchen to find some chicken nuggets.

Cole and Luna, it was more magic and fun spells when she came to see them. The two were casting some spills, when she got caught in one of them being turned into a little mouse by accident. Cole laughed as Luna worried, but they turned her back to normal soon enough.

Ethan was the 3rd sibling she met, and she thanked all the Stars and Stripes that it was a simple meeting. He was watching a movie, being Monsters Inc. when she met him the guy joining The Young Avengers for a movie night.

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I hope you liked it and thank you for taking your time to read this!

If you want to know anything about theses OCs, let me know in the comments below.

Please like, comment, share and reblog if you like.

Tags: @gcthvile @rickb-chaos @msrochelleromanofffelton @mallowbee4 @mandylove1000 @gaminggirlsstuff @whitewiccan @rooster-84 @parisparker269 @sherloquestea @starkleila @meiramel @blueboirick and etc

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izzy140105 · 6 months ago

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Currently thinking about my parents </3

edit by @/animash360 on tiktok

#my marvel oc that's tony starks daughter knows nothing but paaaaiiiiiinnnnnn...#𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ꨄ︎#tony stark #pepper potts #pepperony #iron man #marvel #tiktok edits

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wellhowaboutthis · 4 months ago

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Okidokie, Tony stark OC daughter, Isa

As into engineering and robotics as her dad but also literature nerd like her mother, she could have been put on the fast track of education like Tony was as a kid, but her parents wanted to make sure she got a happy childhood

Her closet is full of merch for the avengers, mostly gifts from said heros after they meet her

*her Mom was a model Tony knew before he was iron man. He was not ready to be a dad then, so Mom skipped town to raise her daughter away from the like light and drama. Reached out after Iron Man activities and he started visiting them.

#fanart #fanart oc #marvel fanfiction #tony stark as a dad #tony stark #tony stark daughter #OC Isa #original character #original art #digital art #w/h #the avengers #she and Barton in the vents

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justkenlivin · 5 months ago

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Wax Wings Always Melt in the Sun

Introduction and warnings to the fanfiction here, (WWAMIS)

[Chapter 2]

ACT I: The Labyrinth

Chapter 1: Meeting the Kid

Let it be known that Anthony “Tony” Edward Stark, son of Maria Stark, had no clue what he was doing a good portion of the time.

Don’t kid yourself; he’s a genius, a man of three doctorates, count ‘em. He possessed endless information and was really a hub for any and all new-age, life-changing inventions. Any positive movement in technology in the past decade had Stark Industries plastered somewhere on it.

The man built a high-tech prosthesis (shove that up your ass Senator Stern) in a cave, with a box of scraps, shrapnel hurtling toward his chest, and all under the noses of the Ten Rings. Still, somehow, in the process, shifting a previous invention into a power source that had untapped potential.

They had privatized clean energy.

Yet, as he stood outside of the little apartment in Queens, he had no fucking clue what he was doing.

Tony could fiddle his life away, pushing out the endless ideas that were constantly building palaces in his mind. He thought in Blueprint Azure and white lines, statistics firing off at rapid-fire paces. The process of creating inventions and confirming plausibility happened in mere seconds. He could throw away the mantle, hide away when the next invasion comes knocking, and still live a life where he helped people.

And with all that. He stood there, in the honestly concerning yellowing walled halls, climbing up three flights of stairs and coming outside a creaky-looking cracked door. The A part of 3A was missing, leaving behind a dirty sticky underneath that collected grime in the shadow of the lost letter.

Absolutely and utterly fucking lost as to what he is doing.

Look, Tony was vividly aware of the moments that led up to this.

The Cave.

The Arc.

The Suit.

The Avengers.

Loki.

The Wormhole.

Wanda.

Ultron.

Sokovia.

Wanda again.

The council.

The explosion.

The soldier.

The accords.

He knew it, okay, every small moment that built up to this exact point, where he was knocking on the door of some one-parent family in the rough side of the city. He was the one sporting a black eye from the almost bullet, thank you very much.

After Ultron, after Wanda, Tony made sure to keep an eye out on the city, watching for people who popped up. People like them.

There were a couple: a man in a red suit in Hell’s Kitchen, the school that Fury had mentioned once in Westchester, some type of winged guy in Manhattan (he was cool)—though that one tended to branch out all over the city—and, of course, the arachnid in Queens.

It hadn’t been easy to find the kid. No one without the tech he had would have found him. It was his early stuff that had gotten him caught; something within month four of him being out and about made him change his habits. If Tony had to guess, he had some kind of close call. His patterns turned erratic after that, yet the two months of keeping the same schedule had kicked the boy in the ass in the end. With that, he was able to narrow him down to a Midtown school, a bit of dumb luck and stalking later, and ding-ding-ding, Peter Benjamin Parker, Midtown School of Science and Technology. Impressive. Tony knew a lot of funding went into that school from his pocket, and happily, it was practically a pipeline to the Ivy Leagues and big Tech companies like Stark Industries. Shaping the minds of the future and all that.

The first time he’d seen a video of the kid, he’d been helping some cat out of a tree. Tony had a laugh about that, really. The panicked yelps as the cat tackled some tacky red ski-masked figure in overly big bright sweats, and Sharpie really had him going there for a moment. In the end he'd shoved the kid to the side, not overly dazzled. The billionaire had brushed him off, figuring he would fizzle out like a lot of vigilantes. Yet when not even a month later, the figure now monikered as Spider-Man caught a bus. Then, he was a little more than intrigued.

The webbing had been the crux of his interest, though; he was excited at the premise of whoever’s mind was behind it. The work was genius, and that is high praise coming from him. Synthetic spider-silk, the first ever of its creation—light-years ahead of anyone else.

Only for Friday to inform him brightly that she’d unmasked the bug boy, and Tony was confronted with a chubby-faced fourteen-year-old with glasses so thick you could start a damn bonfire and a shy smile. All stuffed into a collared shirt with some nerd-pun tee over it.

He had a diagnostics test run on Friday after that one.

So he’d let it go, swept the idea of the kid under the rug. Out of sight, out of mind, and all that. Sure, he kept alerts on, making sure he didn’t get into something too serious. And, of course, Tony had meddled with the idea of a suit; honestly, the long johns this kid was sporting were an affront to superheroes alike. He needed an upgrade severely. So Tony had… dabbled with the idea of a suit. One particularly vicious fight between him and Captain Frozone had caused the engineer to retreat to his lab, and with nothing else to focus on, he'd spent 56 hours in his lab until a fully fleshed Spider-Man suit had come to fruition.

It was a stupid thing, with overtly protective protocols and, of course, an AI, because what 14-year-old genius wouldn't want an AI? But still. He'd locked it in that idiotic silver case and shoved it deep in a corner of his lab.

Out of sight. Out of mind.

Then the accords happened, and Rogers had been so damn stubborn.

So he picked up the fucking file again, and now here he was, knocking on the door and destroying some kid's life.

God, he really was the fucking worst, wasn’t he?

Stark men aren't fucking iron; they're poison. Destruction. Merchants of Death.

It opened, the wood creaking pitifully on its hinges as an attractive mousey woman opened the door, mouth slightly gaping as she pushed wide oval frames on her nose. “Tony Stark?”

The tone was slightly hysteric but well-contained, like when he did something stupid, and Pepper walked in. Trying to ignore the stab of guilt that consumes his stomach, he plastered on a paparazzi smile. “Mrs. Parker? Tony Stark, nice to meet you. Is Peter home?”

It is startling how fast the awe-struck smile slips from her face, a guarded hard mask in place as burning eyes meet his. “What do you want with Peter?” The door whines lightly as she pulls inward, gripping it.

He's caught off guard a moment, sincerely underestimating the vicious care that sprouted from her. The protection. Unsure if it was due to the loss they shared or if this is how every parent is supposed to react, he moved on.

“I’m here about his grant application?” Yeah, that sounds like a normal thing for him to be involved in. He is technically the owner. “Stark Industries is clearly impressed,” Tony laughs, gesturing toward himself. “I would like to discuss an upcoming conference opportunity.”

He was sure it would take Friday seconds to create the necessary paperwork, something that looked official enough to keep her off his ass. Unless, of course, she knew her kid—nephew—was dressed in red and blue sweats every night, facing muggers, robbers, and carjackers…

Somehow he didn’t think that was the case, but he'd been proven wrong by this kid before.

“Oh!” May gasps, gesturing him deeper into the apartment, a cozy thing, warm despite its surroundings. lemon-painted walls, corduroy-like mismatched furniture, and a plush gray-green couch pointed toward a small television. Pictures plastered the walls. Most of Peter at different stages of life, May, and another man, who had the same nose and ears as the kid. “Welcome in. Sorry for the mess.” She flusteredly apologized, waving her hands at the basket of half-folded laundry, and two mugs sat on the coffee table, one empty, the other long cold.

Tony gave a charming grin as he maneuvered in, walking past the little rack for shoes at the door and narrowly missing a pair of cheap, beaten Converse sitting smack-dab in the center of the walkway. His eyes catch a familiar branded heel that he'd expect to see in Pepper's closet, nevermind in the Parker's apartment. May Parker did not seem like a red-bottom type.“Please, you should see my workshop.”

His workshop is actually very clean, with sleek StarkPad surfaces, holo screens, and, of course, his bots. Sure, there were cluttered projects here and there, but he was as much of a scientist as a mechanic; he needed order to work.

The relieved smile that worked the way up on Mrs. Parker’s face was well worth the fib. Tony had read the damn files, seen that Peter was on scholarship, and followed the trail of loss that propelled the young boy forward in his life. The death of his parents as a kid, up to the abrupt demise of his Uncle, his last biological relative.

An orphaned genius turned to superheroism; where did that sound familiar?

Tony’s heart ached at the kid's story, really. It was a shit hand. There were no ifs, ands, or buts about it. No one deserved it, least not some kid in pajamas helping old ladies bring groceries into their houses.

The guilt sat hard in his throat as he sat down on the surprisingly comfortable couch, May fluttering around, grabbing the dirty cups from the table. “Would you like some coffee? I made walnuts and date loaf. Would you like a slice?”

Nodding happily along with her, he watches her retreat, followed by the whirr of a coffee pot and clang of silverware. Pulling his phone from his suit jacket, he smiles at the small notification seated at the top of the screen.

Friday… 1423

File Uploaded: title: Peter Parker Grant Permission Forms

A silent, atta-girl, fell from his lips as May came back in the room, a small plate and two new mugs filled with the strong aroma of cheap coffee. Still, Tony wasn’t particularly picky about that. Sitting down, Tony took the drink gratefully, “You know, I’m surprised.” He mentions casually, the confusion dotting across the woman’s face. “That you’re old enough to be an aunt, wow.” He flirts playfully, a huff and amused eye roll answering him.

“So, you said something about a grant application?” Her voice was low, “Peter didn’t tell me about an application.” It wasn’t an accusation, but there was an undercut to it that Tony couldn’t decipher, and panic set in.

Scrambling a moment mentally, he paused. Words sprouted from the corners of his mind; he hadn’t accounted for that, and yeah, kids with good parents usually told them when they applied to things. Support and all that mushy stuff. “I’m sure he didn’t want to get your hopes up.” He tried smoothly, picking up the crumbly and hard bread that had a weird texture with an undercut of way too much salt. Still, he hummed, “That’s wow.” He noted, hoping to dispel whatever had been built. “Delicious.”

It works, May smiles brightly, “Thank you!” She sang happily, “So what is the conference?”

Tony waved off-handedly, placing the rest of the bread down hastily. “A small gathering for scientists in the clean energy business.” He explains, trying to keep details vague but not noticeably lacking. “It’s an overnight weekend trip, and I have a team of interns going. Peter would be with some like-minded peers, a chaperone (Haha, Happy), and myself. It’s a grant, all paid for, in Germany.”

“Germany?” May spouted quickly, consternation etching on her face, “Peter’s never been on a plane.”

Ahh, yes, a quick reminder, his parents died in a plane crash, asshole. “Yes, this is a big opportunity, Mrs. Parker, and I will be overseeing him every step of the way.”

Before they could continue the conversation, the sound of keys hitting the lock clanged throughout the room. The front door swung open, and a boy with his earbuds in and head ducked down wandered in.

Peter both did and did not look like his photo. Here he stood taller, not as hunched in on himself, lithe but strong muscle hidden away under a thin baggy sweater unzipped to a pun t-shirt, of course. This Peter had bags under his eyes, even as he let out a cheerful, “Hey Aunt May!” As he closed the door.

Still not looking up, the kid waved his hand around, the one that wasn’t holding a beat-up DVD player, plopping down a bright orange bag on a chair as he directed himself toward the kitchen. “Hey,” May called fondly, sending Tony an amused look, “How was school today?”

The kid smiled brightly, perking his head up as if to tell her good news, “Okay! There’s this crazy car parked outside.” Ahh, yes, his Audi R8 V10 plus Coupé quattro, thank you Mr. Parker. At that moment, Peter looks up as if to discuss more before he’s left in complete shock at the sight of Tony perched on his beat-up couch, hard and crumbly homemade bread in hand. He freezes, and Tony is able to appreciate the similarities from his picture: big, unbelievably round eyes and curly hair that seemed untamable. A boyish smile that tugged at both sides of his cheeks, leaving his teeth fully bare in excitement.

May quirked her head to Tony as she looked at Peter over the back of the couch, Tony inclining his own to the boy. “Hello, Mr. Parker.”

“Uhm,” Peter breathed, pulling his earbuds from their spot slowly, fiddling with them as he took in the billionaire. A shaky hand pushes up as he advances toward the duo, “What are you …?” He gasped, head swaying in disbelief, realizing he was pointing and pulling his arms into his chest with a blush. “Hey!” The boy greets, “I’m, uhm, I’m Peter!” He stutters out as if Tony hadn’t just said his last name. It was awkward. It was charming. Very ‘baby colt stumbling its way about in the snow for the first time’ esque.

Cutting him a break as he takes a few more steps forward, “Tony,” he gestures toward himself with the bread.

Peter blinks at him, “What are you, uh, what are you… what are you doing here?”

Tony smiles at him, “It’s about time we met; you’ve been getting my emails right?” He tries to throw a wink at him and is quickly reminded of the pulsing ache above his cheekbone, and switches to the other. A double wink.

“Yeah!” Peter agrees quickly, shooting his eyes at his Aunt and then back to the man, “Regarding the–”

May’s voice took over, “You never told me about the grant?”

“About the grant.” Peter chimed in lamely. God, was this kid a bad liar. How the hell did he keep Spider-Man from her?

Picking up the overly large mug with little yellow sunflowers, he drew the attention to himself again. “The September Foundation.” Tony reminded lightly, come on, pick up the trail already. A quiet ‘right’ followed, “Remember when you applied?” He prompted, May splaying her hands out in exasperation beside him. “I approved. So now we’re in business.” Tony widens his eyes at him as he takes a sip of the coffee.

“You didn’t tell me anything about the grant,” May accused, shooting a look at Tony, “what’s up with that? You keeping secrets from me now?” What had meant to be playful fell short. Now that Peter was here, the lingering sound from before was much more apparent, and Tony had to grind his teeth down to suppress a wince; it was hurt.

Obviously, the teen also caught that as his lips tugged down, frowning and shifting from foot to foot slightly. “Well,” Peter admitted, and Tony held his breath a little, “I just, I know how much you love surprises,” he grabs his hand behind the small of his back and rocks on his heels. “So I thought I’d let you know…” He trails off, and May smiles softly at him. “Anyway, what did I apply for?”

Rushing in, Tony raised a hand, “That’s what I’m here to hash out.”

“Okay, hash out? Okay.” Peter breathed the words, awed as he really took Tony in. The hero worship was something Tony was semi-used to, but it still made him slightly itchy to be the receiver. Capsicle was much more the cuddly type than he was. The guy was a golden retriever when it came to praise, with bright eyes and a wagging tail.

Trying to segue, Tony nodded to May, “ It's so hard for me to believe that she's someone's aunt.” He says conspiratorially; he is especially amused as Peter’s face pitches downward at that, a scowl on his face looking not nearly as ferocious as he may seem.

“Yeah, well, we come in all shapes and sizes, you know?” May snarks back, a smile as she does it.

Continuing on with his little game, he nods toward the honestly inedible rock. “This walnut date loaf is exceptional.”

Peter crossed his arm, “Let me stop you right there.” Tony paused in interest as the kid cut him down with an analytical stare, “Is this grant, like, got money involved or whatever? No?”

The billionaire, let me reiterate, the billionaire, could laugh. “Yeah,” he agrees brightly, and when Peter echos him, fiddling his hands shyly, he gives the kid a look. “It's pretty well funded,” Tony says snarkily, ignoring the awed sound the teen lets out. “Look who you're talking to.” Turning to May, he nods at Peter, “ Can I have 5 minutes with him?”

Instead of answering right away, May sends a look to Peter, who nods, and then she nods. “Of course.”

“We’ll go to my room, May; Downton Abbey is on in ten.” The woman lets out a curse, looking at the clock and springing for the remote as Tony is led down a tiny hall and outside a blank door.

Opening the door, he is dropped into what he is sure is a very nerdy teen boy’s room. Light powder blue walls plastered with Star Wars posters, a few scientific diagrams, and random other keepsakes. A rickety bunk bed is pushed against one end of the room, followed by a desk littered with gutted scrap metal, sheet paper, blueprints, and textbooks. There was a corkboard, covered in flyers, sticky notes and polaroid photos of him, a round-faced boy who was mid-laugh, and a blonde girl with wide eyes and a pretty expression.

Quickly spitting out the mouthful of walnuts he’d had earlier, he deposits it in the trash can. “As walnut date loaves go, that wasn't bad.” He trails over to the desk, poking at a half-constructed circuit board. “Whoa, what do we have here? Retro tech, huh? Thrift store? Salvation Army?” It was impressive, far too advanced for High School if he was reading the schematics correctly.

An embarrassed sound left the kid, “The garbage.”

Wandering around, Tony ignores the little Avengers memorabilia scattered across surfaces and surveys the kid's space.Trying to find any obvious places the ‘suit’ may be. Not the closet, which had no door unless it was stuffed inside. “You're a dumpster diver.” He remarks, and it isn’t meant to be malicious. Tony has always grown up with money; he wasn’t really sure what to do in its absence. The fact that this kid was able to scavenge what he did and produce the quality he did? Impressive.

It wasn’t meant to be an insult, but the look on the kid’s face told him it was received as one. “Look, I didn’t apply for a grant.” He confronted Tony, the worship wearing off as he came across as a little more than miffed yet still polite.

Humming, Tony begins to pull out his phone, “Ah-ah! Me first.” Peter lost his frustration at once, head quirked, “Quick question of the rhetorical variety…” A hologram of Spider-Man immediately lit up the room, “That's you, right?”

Shock overwhelmed the kid as his head bops between Tony’s smug face and the projection. “Um, no.” Peter denies hotly, “What do you … What do you mean?” The video shows the kid webbing some car thief up and shooting slightly out of frame, black goggles fully on display.

“Yeah,” Tony cuts in, with false sympathy as he flips the screen. A new video queued up, Peter having caught a car before it sped into an oncoming bus. “Wow, look at you go!” He cheered, watching the video again. Even if the amassment was exaggerated, there was definitely truth to it. “Nice catch. Three thousand pounds, 40 miles an hour. That's not easy.” Tony placed the phone on Peter’s desk, his eyes catching the entrance to the attic hidden amongst the ceiling paint. “You got mad skills.”

The kid’s mouth opens and closes like a goldfish before he pushes past the older man defiantly, “That's all. That's all on YouTube, though, right?” The way the teen says it is condescending sass. All the marks of a teenager. “I mean, that's where you found that? Because you know that's all fake. It's all done on the computer.” Peter explains it slowly as if Tony was in kindergarten, and that is the moment that the billionaire realizes this kid is also a little shit.

Tony plays the game as the kid turns his attention to the holograph, obviously interested in it. Humming in agreement, Peter carries on with his spiel, not noticing the wooden stick being pulled from its spot leaning against the wall and desk. “It's like that video. What is it?” Peter mumbled.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Oh, you mean like those UFOs over Phoenix?” As soon as the teen sounded relieved, Tony pushed the door up, a bundle of bright red and blue falling before it was immediately snatched from his view and into Peter’s hands across the room. “Oh, what have we here?” He sings, watching the kid scramble to hide it amongst a row of flannel, leaning to block Tony’s sight.

With his shoulder on the doorway of his closet, Peter lifts his chin up slightly, trepidation flooding through him. “Uh … that's ah.”

Ignoring the half-assed tussle for some kind of plausible excuse, Tony latched on. “So. You're the Spider … ling. Crime-fighting Spider… you're Spider-Boy?” Each sounds awkward on his tongue as he fights around with the terms thrown about in the papers. Walking in front of the boy, hoping to get his hands on the suit.

Arms crossed petulantly; Peter grunted, “S-spider-Man.”

It was like Tony could hear the kid pronouncing the hyphen. “ Not in that onesie, you're not.”

Glaring at Tony, Peter put distance between the duo again, “It’s not a onesie.” He muttered angrily as he passed by. The billionaire fought his grin the entire time. Picking up the bundle, he flips it around in his hands to look at the details. “ I don't believe this,” the teen gripes, his hands falling to his desk. He grabs his screwdriver, waving it around as Tony tosses looks between him and the fabric. “I was actually having a real good day today, you know, Mr. Stark. Didn't miss my train, this perfectly good DVD player was just sitting there and . . . Algebra test. Nailed it!” His eyes stayed on the chunky desktop computer while Tony tilted his head.

“Who else knows? Anybody?” A stricken look across the boy’s face, unsure and hesitant.

Whatever came out of his mouth next was definitely a lie, but the way the kid signed out ‘Nobody’ like he was Atlas and the entire world spun across his shoulders… didn’t sit right with Tony.

So he tilted his head; someone knew, “ Not even your… unusually attractive aunt?” Tony tries because it’d be easy if it were. Then, the man could leave the kid to his own devices, under the watchful eye of someone who was good and cared for the kid. Someone to stop Tony from dragging a fifteen-year-old to an avenger’s intervention.

Not that he thinks it’ll escalate. Hopefully, the show of face will stop Rogers long enough to fucking talk.

Tony can fix this; he really can. Amend the damn accords, and push Ross out of office, it just takes time, and it takes power, and he can’t do that with America’s golden boy running off with a terrorist-war-criminal-assassin.

But he has seen what the people think, the unrest, the helplessness. They needed some form of accountability; they weren’t infallible, they made mistakes, and who was going to answer for them?

“No!” Peter’s almost-yell was enough to draw him from his mind, listening to the babbles as Tony sat himself in a desk chair.“No, no. No, no. If she knew, she would freak out. And when she freaks out, I freak out.”

So, not his aunt then. Damnit.

Fidgeting with the little metallic dispensers for kids' webs, he popped the glass cartridge out, playing with it between his fingers. He still wasn’t able to get the damn makeup. He’d need it for the kid’s suit. “You know what I think is really cool? This webbing.” He throws the bottle at Peter, trying to sus out his awareness. The teen seemed to have amazing reflexes in videos, and this did not disappoint. Does not even glance as he flicks his hand up, catching it with blinding speed. “That tensile strength is off the charts. Who manufactured that?”

“I did.” Impressive. The kid chucks the tube with disinterest, landing somewhere across the room. Picking up the gloves, he pries the other one out and places it in his suit pocket before splaying his fingers over the gloves.

Not acknowledging the genius of it out loud, Tony continues his hounding, all the questions he’d had before bubbling to the surface. Another thing about the genius is that he’s a mechanic, a scientist, and an inventor. He liked—no—needed to understand how things worked. Things rarely kept his interest for long, usually a few hours, and some coffee was enough for even the most stubborn of issues. Yet, Spider-Man was an enigma. “ Climbing the walls, how are you doing that? Adhesive gloves?”

“It’s a long story—” Peter begins when Tony pushes the goggles up to his eyes, the room dimming dramatically.

“Lordy! Can you even see in these?” The billionaire let out a strangled sound when the suit was pulled from his hands.

Peter is letting out flustered and embarrassed protests, obviously overly tired with this exchange, not quite used to the eccentricity of it all. “Yes, I can! I can. I can-I can see in those. Okay? It's just that, when whatever happened, happened, it's like my senses have been dialed to 11. There's way too much input, so they just kinda help me focus.”

Tony did know, Cap Attack had similar issues when he came out of the machine. It was written in Howard’s notes. Even in the 20th century, press conferences could get too overwhelming. If the kid was anything like him, he understood. “You're in dire need of an upgrade. Systemic, top to bottom. 100-point restoration. That's why I'm here.” Tony finally reveals, like a last hoorah. Peter sat on the bottom bunk across from him, his fingers dancing between one another in a nervous shuffle. “Why you doing this? I gotta know. What's your MO? What gets you outta that twin bed in the morning?”

That really was the question. He knows why he does it, originally as a means to make amends. Getting his company's weapons out of the hands of evil. Then it was to quiet the echoing ‘Don’t waste your life’ that followed him into the quietest of dreams.

And now?

God, he didn’t even know.

Yet, this kid, this fifteen–year–old looks up at him with so much conviction. His words were slow, deliberate, and careful. It is as if he is truly trying to pick apart the smallest of details and hopes the amassment will be enough to please the great Iron Man.

Hero worship.

And what a hero this kid chose.

“Because.” Peter begins, dropping his eyes to his hands, “Because I've been me my whole life, and I've had these powers for nine months…” Tony nods encouragingly, “ I read books, I build computers, and–and yeah. I would love to play football. But I couldn't then, so I shouldn't now.”

Tony nods, “Sure because you’re different.” If there was anything he understood, it was being different.

“Exactly. But I can't tell anybody that, so I'm not. When you can do the things that I can, but you don't…” Tony catches himself leaning in, enraptured by the explanation, “And then the bad things happen; they happen because of you.”

It was astonishing how someone so young can be so selfless and so full of good. Good nature, good intentions … just good. It’s refreshing, someone who wanted to help because he was able. Not for gain of fame or recognition. No one to give him a pat on the back when things went right or hold him when things went wrong. “So you wanna look out for the little guy? You wanna do your part? Make the world a better place, all that, right?” Tony surmised, not at all disappointed with the answer he’d been given.

“Yeah,” Peter sighs, brushing off whatever had weighed down on him, “yeah!” He stated brighter, a smile, “Just looking out . . . for the little guy. That's--that's what it is.”

Tony lifted himself from the chair, ignoring the creak in his knees as he placed the suit down in his spot, walking over before shooing away the kid’s leg playfully. “ I'm gonna sit here, so you move the leg.” He gestured to the outstretched limb that immediately snapped inward as Tony settled, hesitating before clapping Peter on the shoulder, the kid was feeling something, and the mechanic wasn’t that big of an asshole. “You got a passport?”

“N-no!” Peter laughed, looking down at his lap, “ Uh, no. I don't even have a driver's license.”

Right, Tony sighs; the kid just turned fifteen, and he wasn’t even old enough for a permit. “You ever been to Germany?”

“No!” He kept his hand on the kid’s shoulder for a moment before he pulled back, shrugging.

“Why?”

It was like watching a kid who had been called on in school when he wasn’t paying attention. “I’ve got homework.”

This supposed genius was real rough in the lying department. “I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that.” Tony decides for him, sweeping himself up as he makes his way to the door, ignoring Peter’s protests.

“I'm—I'm being serious! I can't just drop out of school!”

Tony neared the door, “Might be a little dangerous. Better tell Aunt Hottie I'm taking you on a field trip.”

As his hand goes to grip the door handle, a sticky substance flattens it to the door with a quiet thwip. Peter stood, chest puffed in what he was sure the boy was an intimidating pose. “Don't tell Aunt May.”

Still awesome. Tony thinks, eyeing the way the webbing spreads across his flesh, wrapped so tight he couldn’t wiggle his fingers. The way it fractured off of itself in the pattern of an honest spider web.

He was inspired by the kid’s moxie to his moniker, that was for sure. “Okay, Spider-Man.” Tony conceded, holding Peter’s excited gaze before nudging his head down impatiently. “Get me out of this.”

You can almost see the moment the teen is knocked from his self-assured stupor because his face falls in the shock that can only come from the realization that he had, in fact, webbed his childhood hero to his bedroom door. “ Sorry, I'll get the…” Peter gestures to his desk before he makes his way over. Grabbing a vile of an almost clear solution, a light blue sheer to it. “So… what’s in Germany?” Peter asks, walking over to Tony.

The billionaire watched as the dropper dipped into the solution before slowly spreading across the tendrils of white. “You know the accords?” It was public information, after all, but he didn’t know how much kids knew about politics.

Peter half-focused on his hand. “It’ll take a couple of minutes,” The boy’s nose scrunched in a dissatisfied manner. Tony was sure it was a formula the kid was still tweaking, “It’s just not instant. And yes, I read about it in Advisory. We cover current events.”

The hero surmised that it must be a class as he felt the webs begin to loosen. “Well, Cap and Co won't sign. He thinks he’s right; it makes him dangerous. There won't be fighting, but I’m hoping to get them to listen,” Tony admitted slowly as his hand peeled up from the wall. Peter focused on dropping a few more on the wall to clean it up.

“They won’t even sign a preliminary document to show their support if changes are made?” Peter asks, and Tony looks at him in surprise, not realizing how in-depth this reading must have gone. At his resounding head shake, Peter sighed, nodding. “I’ll go to Germany.”

“Great!” Tony said brightly, “I’ll have Happy pick you up Friday after school. Be packed for the weekend; we leave the airport at six sharp. Happy is a grump if you’re late.” He shakes his head fondly as he goes to leave.

Peter seems to have overcome an internal debate and puts his hand on the door. “Wait!” he shouts, shocking himself and Tony. “Why me?”

Tony blinks once, twice, and then a third. “You’re a smart kid, useful, and you've got a lot of potential,” he confessed brusquely, hoping that explanation would be enough.

It is because Peter nods, “Yeah, okay. I’m just surprised you didn’t go to Ica.”

And hold up.

Record scratch.

What?

‘I'm surprised you didn’t go to Ica.’

Ica.

Peter Parker knew Icarus?

Tony freezes, his mind instantly flipping back to the person he'd originally tried to track down instead of Spider-Man. Not that the billionaire hadn't wanted the arachnid on his team, but Icarus wasn't new to the game. He's been around for almost two years now, having taken down large threats around the city. Gritty shit, like people pushing humans and drugs alike. He was ninety percent sure that it was due to the vigilante that a mutant auction was busted, and thirteen kids were freed and got to go home or to the campus. He had also stepped up to clean up after the riots that had taken place following Sokovia, keeping an eye on protests and supporting where he could, with no clear stance for either side.

Yet, Tony wasn't able to get near him. He seemed to just appear in places, blackened wings tipped with gold, a signature that caught on early in his career, gifting him the moniker 'Icarus.'

The news article said that it seemed like his wings were dripping with gold, like melted wax.

Honestly, Tony was kinda irked that he'd received such a cool name. Iron Man had caught on like a house fire, and even if it was a misleading title, Stark hadn't tried to re-brand. And no offense to the kid, but Spider-Man? There with Iron Man in the 'Wow' department. Granted, from what Tony could see from Parker, the name was more befitting. Well, not the man bit, but definitely the spider part. Maybe he should re-brand. The amazing Spider-Boy, Spiderling, Spidey.

Eh, he'd buff it out later. "Wait, Ica, as in Icarus, like the Manhattan vigilante who took down that sex trafficking ring in Brooklyn?" Tony's eyes narrowed at the deer-in-headlights look the kid adopted, big brown and yet staring brightly into his. His mouth dropped in a shocked gape as if he hadn't realized what he'd done. Hell, he probably hadn't. The words seemed to have rushed from his mouth in half-hearted mumbles. A bashful and self-deprecating blush to boot, but still, muttered nonetheless.

Tony hadn't expected the vigilantes to know one another. He should have. If he were Icarus and someone had sprouted up, he'd have done due diligence and scoped it out. Hell, he had scoped the kid out! “No,” Peter says out of breath, “I don’t know them.”

“Yes, you do.” Tony points at him, “And that is information I need.” Settling back in his sneakers, he crossed his arms, “talk Spider-Boy.”

Peter bit his lip, looking from his suit to Tony, to his computer, to his window. Honestly, it looked like the kid was going to throw up or bolt. “Look,” the teen said, “I can contact them tonight if you want. I can meet you with him, at the cafe, Delos. Tomorrow, after school. If he wants to.”

Watching the kid for a second, searching him for some kind of crack in the bravado, he finds none. So, Icarus was someone who knew his identity, and vice versa, it seems. “Not gonna break on this one, huh?”

“Look, Mister Stark, Ica has been helping me.” Peter says, “I finally gained his trust, and I can’t lose it.” The stress on his words was staggering, and Tony couldn’t help but yearn for the same loyalty.

“Deal, we'll meet at Delos at four. Be there, Spiderling.”

And Tony leaves, hoping and praying that this wasn’t the biggest mistake of his life.

#iron man #irondad and spiderson #iron dad #spider man #spiderman #spider son #fanfic #ao3 #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #tony stark #fem oc #tony stark daughter #spider man homecoming

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skwangmbyul · 1 month ago

Text

rusted | thunderbolts - henny meets the team

can be read as a standalone but this story is part of a longer universe called rusted

domestic, domestic, domestic pregnancy!wife

rusted masterlist

James Buchanan Barnes never thought he’d go back to enjoying something as simple as sleeping in. For years, all it took was closing his eyes for nightmares to swarm his mind like impatient ghosts. Back then, sleep wasn’t a pleasure — it was survival. A minefield he had to cross, night after night.

Until he married Hennessy.

Hennessy, who insisted on picking the best mattresses, the softest comforters, and placed scented candles around the room with military precision.

There was always one of those artificial — yet soothing — rain sounds playing in the background, as if she wanted even the silence to feel warm. And when she slept, she wrapped around him like a koala. Her head resting on his chest, her breathing syncing rhythmically with the beat of his heart — a quiet dance that made him forget everything that came before her.

Yes, Bucky Barnes liked sleeping in.

It wasn’t always possible. Not with the new superhero life, the unpredictable schedules, and the constant missions sent by Valentina. But that Friday night, as he lay down and gently pulled Hennessy close, carefully cradling the prominent curve of her belly into a safe, comfortable position, and breathed in the familiar scent of cardamom from her hair, Bucky was sure:

Tomorrow, he’d sleep until the sun was high in the sky.

Hennessy Stark, however, had other plans.

Bucky groaned when he sensed his wife moving around the room. He’d felt Henny slip from his arms, but figured she was just making a quick trip to the bathroom and would be right back. A peek through the blackout curtain told him it was barely sunrise.

— Doll, come back to bed. What’re you doing? — he murmured groggily, turning on the mattress and reaching for the still-warm sheets where she’d been. His head sank deeper into the pillow, voice low and raspy, still clinging to sleep.

His arm stretched out blindly, lazily — but full of affection.

— It’s six-thirty, baby. Time to get up — she said, stretching with her arms above her head, her body elongating.

— Says who? — Bucky grunted, sinking a little deeper into the mattress. — You never wake up this early.

— James, your team’s coming over for lunch today. I can’t believe you forgot.

That was enough to make him open his eyes and look at her, brows arched in a mix of disbelief and drowsiness.

He hadn’t forgotten.

In fact, he’d reminded all five of his teammates throughout the entire week — repeatedly, patiently, more diligently than usual. Precisely because if someone missed it (even Walker), Hennessy would probably declare war. She was excited about this lunch, planning the menu carefully, testing recipes, asking him every other day about everyone’s dietary preferences. And Bucky, dutifully, relayed every detail.

He knew how much it meant to her.

And no matter how many years went by, he doubted he’d ever fully get used to the fact that someone like him had found a place in the heart of someone like her. A relentless ray of sunshine, illuminating everything without asking for permission. She made friends with delivery drivers, loved building connections, bringing people together, finding meaning in the most ordinary encounters.

So no — he hadn’t forgotten.

But that still didn’t explain why the hell she was already up before seven in the morning.

— Doll, didn’t we schedule for 1 PM? — he mumbled, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands, trying to shake off the fog. He blinked slowly, adjusting to the soft light seeping through the curtain.

On a mission, he never would’ve slept that deeply. His senses would’ve been sharp, body tense, always prepared for danger.

But here, in this house that was now their home, he allowed himself to let his guard down. For the first time in a long time, he was learning that peace was something he deserved too.

— Baby, that’s only seven hours until then. I need to cook, do my hair, fix my nails — they’re a disaster. And you promised you’d fix the office bathroom — she listed, counting off each item on her fingers like they were top-priority tasks in a high-risk mission.

Bucky let his head fall to the side, giving her a genuinely tired look.

— Hennessy, no one’s using that bathroom today — he said, slowly, almost dragging the words out. He sat up with a bit of effort, his body still heavy, but accepting the inevitable start of the day.

Hennessy turned to him in absolute silence. One brow arched, head tilted, eyes narrowing into that expression — the one that said loud and clear: Do you really want to argue with your pregnant wife?

She didn’t even have to speak.

Bucky already knew he’d lost.

— Fine — he sighed, shoulders dropping in a good-humored surrender. — I’ll fix the bathroom.

Her smile bloomed as if the day had finally begun. In just a few steps, she crossed the room and stopped in front of him, leaning in gently. Her hands rested on his shoulders with ease, and then she lowered herself a little more, her lips meeting his in a soft kiss, slow but full of life.

— Thank you — she whispered against his lips, lingering just a second longer than necessary. — Good morning, babe.

— Morning, doll — he chuckled, a warm hum in his chest.

Yes, he’d fix the damn bathroom.

Bucky Barnes would do anything Hennessy Stark asked of him.

___________________________________________________________

The number of things Hennessy managed to get done while Bucky was upstairs fixing the office bathroom plumbing was downright absurd. When he came back down a few hours later — a shameful amount of time for a super soldier, although Bucky had to admit he’d spent a considerable portion of it lying on the bathroom floor watching cat videos on his phone — the warm, comforting smell of roast beef wrapped around him like a hug.

He found her in the living room, sitting with absurd focus. A foil cap was perfectly wrapped around her head — a sign that her hair was, as she liked to say, being “honored” — and her eyes were half-lidded with concentration as she carefully ran a polish brush over her nails. The vibrant cyan blue popped against her skin, perfectly matching the earrings that never left her ears.

She was genuinely happy to host the team at home. Hennessy wanted to get to know everyone better, but had firmly refused to go to the Tower.

They’d agreed from the beginning: the pregnancy would remain a secret — far from the tabloids' ravenous eyes. It was a necessary boundary. But there was more to it. Every time someone mentioned the Tower, Bucky noticed the subtle tightening of her shoulders, the way her gaze would flick away, like she was trying to hide a wound still too raw.

It was the same Tower her father had built.

Tony had been gone for two years, and wounds like that — well, they never fully healed. They just took time to scar.

Bucky didn’t bother with subtlety. He knelt beside the couch when he saw she was on the last nail and waited patiently as she blew gently on her fingertips, lips pursed, fully immersed in the task.

— All done — she said, flashing her nails with a small, proud smile.

— Can I reward your hard work? — he asked softly, leaning in to place a kiss on her knee before rising to his feet. — How about a full tub and a nap before the gang shows up?

She looked up, thoughtful, but with that familiar sparkle in her eyes.

— Only if you come in with me — she replied, her voice slow and sweet, like she was proposing a little mischief. Before he could say a word, she slid forward on the couch, wrapping her legs around his waist with practiced ease. — Please...

He stifled a laugh, hands gently holding her thighs, shaking his head in exaggerated regret.

— You know I won’t let you rest if I get in there with you, doll.

— Coward... — she murmured, letting him go with reluctant amusement, though the smile never left her face.

He used the time she was in the tub to shower in the guest room — Hennessy would never let him just shower if he strip in the same space as her.

When he returned to the bedroom, he found her asleep, still in her robe, lying across the covers. Careful not to wake her, Bucky went downstairs and began setting the table with the same meticulous dedication he used on missions — just the way she liked it.

He grabbed his phone and texted Yelena to ask where they were. The reply came seconds later:

"We’re leaving now. Alexei couldn’t decide which jacket to wear."

Bucky let out a soft laugh. Classic.

He gently woke Hennessy, knowing she’d want some time to do her hair, and she was finishing her lipstick when they heard the “doorbell” — more of a security alert, really — that someone was at the door.

— You ready, doll? — he asked, adjusting the collar of his dress shirt in the mirror. Thankfully, she hadn’t forced him into a full suit, but she had absolutely insisted on the shirt.

Hennessy turned around. She wore a green dress with a floral print, fitted at the bust and flowing gently over her baby bump, outlining her pregnant silhouette with grace. The bump was more prominent than ever, and to Bucky, she had never looked so beautiful.

— I’m ready — she said, placing the lipstick back on the vanity.

Bucky couldn’t resist. He walked over slowly, kneeling in front of her with a gesture that felt almost reverent. His hands rested gently on her thighs as he leaned in and pressed a long kiss to her belly, greeting the little one growing inside.

Hennessy smiled, her fingers threading tenderly through his hair.

— So I’m pretty, huh? — she teased, voice light and playful.

He looked up at her, still holding onto her legs.

— You’ve never been more beautiful. Damn, doll... every day you’re more perfect — he murmured, gripping her thighs a little tighter, eyes fixed on her like she was the only thing that mattered.

She leaned down, her lips brushing his ear in a teasing whisper:

— You didn’t want to take advantage of that earlier… now you’ll have to wait a while before you get to prove it.

Bucky let out an immediate, gravelly groan full of desire.

— Don’t say stuff like that or I’m sending everyone home right now.

She laughed, pulling him up by the hand.

— Behave yourself, James. Let’s go welcome your friends.

Hennessy laced her fingers with his, and together, they went to answer the door downstairs.

___________________________________________

The five New Avengers were practically stacked in front of Bucky and Hennessy’s door when it finally opened. There was plenty of space on the small porch, but somehow that tight cluster seemed to reflect the group's chaotic essence — always together, a little awkward, but strangely in sync.

Hennessy smiled when she saw them. Her smile was like switching on a lamp.

— Hi, welcome — she said, genuine enthusiasm in her voice, gesturing with one hand for them to come in. — Please, make yourselves at home.

A chorus of polite “excuse me”s rippled through them as they crossed the threshold one by one: Yelena Belova in the lead, followed by Ava Starr, then Alexei Shostakov, right behind him Robert Reynolds — who almost tripped on the doorstep — and John Walker. Bucky stood behind Hennessy, watching them all with steady, attentive eyes.

The visitors stopped just inside the entryway. A faint tension hung in the air, as if they were unsure whether to keep their hero posture or let their guard down. Their gazes wandered — over the furniture, the paintings, the scent of roast beef drifting in from the kitchen — with a mix of instinctual vigilance and curiosity.

It wasn’t every day one saw the Winter Soldier being domestic.

Hennessy stepped forward and extended her hand to whoever was closest. The formality was her way of breaking the ice. It ended up being Alexei who reached her first.

— I’m Hennessy Stark. It’s a pleasure to meet you.

But he ignored the offered hand and, before she could pull it back, pulled her into a tight bear hug, catching her slightly off guard.

— Ah, of course you are! — he exclaimed with his thick accent, voice a notch louder than necessary. — I can’t believe I’m meeting Volt!

Hennessy laughed, not quite sure what to do with her arms, her cheeks warming. It had been so long since anyone had called her by that codename, it almost felt like a distant memory crashing into the room.

— Alexei, for God’s sake... — Yelena muttered through gritted teeth, clearly embarrassed. But he didn’t back down, even gave Hennessy a little shake in his arms before letting her go.

— Alright, alright — it was Bucky who stepped in, gentle but firm, placing a hand on the Red Guardian’s shoulder and subtly guiding him back.

The effect was immediate. As if the room followed the movement of his hand, the group’s eyes dropped, involuntarily, to the round curve beneath Hennessy’s floral green dress.

There was a second of complete silence — and then Yelena broke the spell:

— Holy shit... you’re pregnant?

Her shock was written all over her face. The spy raised a hand to her mouth, like the words had escaped without permission. Her eyes widened even more as she scanned Hennessy’s body, as if trying to compute how far along she was.

— Like... really pregnant.

Ava, trying to stay composed, turned slightly and elbowed the blonde’s arm in an attempt to save her from the lack of tact — even if it was too late.

— Wow... that’s really cool, Bucky — Bob murmured, his voice low, almost hesitant. He let out a quiet chuckle, stuffing his hands in his pockets, still avoiding looking directly at Hennessy’s belly. She had to hold back a laugh. There was something almost childlike about his carefulness, as if he were in the presence of something sacred and didn’t want to ruin it. — Congratulations.

Hennessy found it endearing.

Walker was the only one who hadn’t said a word. It was a sensitive topic for him — Bucky had mentioned the discovery they’d made about the U.S. Agent’s wife and child — and as much as Hennessy found his actions during his Captain America days deplorable, he was on her husband’s team now. She’d have to trust him.

— Yeah, it’s really cool — Walker said, a bit uncertain. — Congratulations, Bucky.

— We’ve been trying to keep it within our inner circle — Bucky said then, his tone kind but firm. — We’re counting on your discretion.

— Of course — Ava nodded quickly. Her eyes, usually so technical, softened for a moment — perhaps recognizing just how much trust that request carried. — Wait... you were already pregnant when we teamed up?

— Do the math, genius — Yelena replied, rolling her eyes and giving her friend a light elbow nudge. — Obviously, she was. Sorry about her, guys.

The comment drew laughter from everyone, including Hennessy, who felt a warm wave of nostalgia rise in her chest. That kind of light teasing, the freedom to laugh and point fingers without fear — that was team spirit. She knew it well. It was the same kind of small gestures that used to fill the halls of the Tower.

— Mrs. Soldier — Alexei’s voice rang with a formality that was almost funny, catching Hennessy’s attention — I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but… we brought vodka. Would you mind if we drank, even if you can’t?

— Don’t worry — she said with a playful smile as she stepped closer to the group. — I grew up named after a drink I couldn’t drink. You’re free to enjoy yourselves.

The remark drew a few more laughs, even a timid smile from Walker, who still lingered near the back, observing with quiet restraint.

She then turned toward the dining room, her steps light, and Bucky followed close behind, his hand resting gently on her back in a protective gesture. At the same time, his gaze turned to the team with a firm nod.

— Come on — he said, motioning toward the set table with his chin.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #thunderbolts #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x tony stark daughter #tony stark daughter #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes imagine #ao3 #bucky barnes fanfiction #winter soldier #sebastian stan fanfiction #dad! tony stark #dad!tonystark

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mylittlediarys-stuff · 1 year ago

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Bite Back Part 8

Part 9- https://www.tumblr.com/mylittlediarys-stuff/754787032385159168/bite-back-part-9?source=share

Well, the girl did hate dinner, but there was one thing she loved doing afterward. Ever since she got her power, she started playing around with it every day after dinner. Currently, she was jumping off walls and shooting webs. She was trying to perfect the act of shooting webs while swinging with them, which was pretty hard to do in her room.

Then a thought formed in her head.

What if I practice in the city?

More room, more space, more freedom to do whatever she wants. She went to her closet to look for clothes to wear during her adventure. As she looked, she thought,

There is always the chance that Bruce will catch me. If he does, I’m in deep shit.

She threw on a black jacket.

Matter of fact, if anyone catches me, I’m done for. They could sell me to some lab or something.

She found some black cargo jeans she hadn’t worn in years.

But this is the best chance to practice. It would be good for me to be good at the spider stuff before I tell Bruce.

Maybe he will be a bit proud of me then. I could join the family business.

She found some old red Converse she used to love to wear, but the material of the shoes might be too thick for her to use her powers.

She switched the Converse for ballerina slippers. The flats were thin enough for her feet to still stick to walls. She somehow found a face mask to cover her face with. She left her phone just in case someone decided to check her location but she doubted anyone would.

Instead of a phone, she brought her old watch that was barely working so she could read the time. She locked the door and put a chair right in front of it, just in case Alfred felt the need to come and check-in.

She opened the window in her room and looked back.

Is this the wrong thing to do? … Nah, I'm just gonna do my own thing.

She jumped from her window, hoping to land on her feet.

Amaka had been wandering the city for 30 minutes, trying to find a building she could climb. She had forgotten how scary Gotham could be at night.

That one looks good!

It was a medium-height building, not too tall, not too small. She easily started to walk on the walls, it was like walking on air. When she reached the top, she saw a somewhat beautiful view for Gotham.

Even an ugly city like this could look beautiful.

She sat down on the edge of the building, just taking everything in. If she had her phone, she would start playing some Lana Del Rey songs or something like that.

She had sat there for about 10 minutes when she got this feeling. The same feeling she got before the car crash and before Damian threw that knife. Like something bad was about to happen.

She got up and hurried to find someplace to hide. She found some boxes that looked like enough protection for her. She saw some kind of door open, and three men walked out, two of them pulling a lady by her hair and one with a gun. The men holding the lady kick her knees in, forcing the lady to kneel.

“Listen here, bitch, if you don’t tell me where that money is,” the man with the gun pointed his gun towards her head, “well, all I can say is I love the smell of gunpowder.”

Are they going to kill her? No shit, Sherlock, of course they are.

She reached into her pocket to pull her phone. This was the one time being Bruce’s kid was a good thing.

Shit. I didn’t bring it.

“Look, you know I can’t tell you anything,” the lady said.

Girl, you better say something, or you’re gonna die.

“Then I got no choice.” He is going to kill her. Amaka slowly got up from her spot.

I have these powers, I show put them to good use. I shouldn't sit around and be a coward.

Amaka slowly got up from her spot.

“First of all, put the gun down, and second, I call bullshit. Gunpowder doesn’t have a smell,” Amaka said, lowkey regretting the joke. Her stomach sank when the man pointed the gun toward her.

“And who are you?”

She took a deep breath in, she decided to be a funny hero person so she might as well stick with the act.

“Just a peaceful person who doesn’t go pointing guns at people,” she started pointing her hand at the gun. “I mean you should put that down. That could hurt someone.”

“Usually, when people see a gun, they put their hands up,” the man said.

Oh, I’m definitely going to regret this.

“I have the perfect names for you three: Stupid 1, 2, and 3.”

“Stupid?” The man holding the gun said, visibly angry now.

“At least you’re Stupid 1, not 2 or 3.” At that, she released a web towards the gun and got it. “Stupid for letting me get your gun.”

She took the bullets out and was able to bend the gun into a u shape.

“What the f—”

“Hey, Stupid 1, don’t curse. This needs to stay kid-friendly,” Amaka said. She was having a little too much fun with this.

The other two men let go of the lady and started to run towards Amaka. The man who was holding the gun joined the others. She was thankful to her past self for watching her family practice fighting for hours. She didn't realize she learned so much by just watching.

She mostly dodged most of their hits and gave a few back, (she realized how much she needed to hold back if you wanted to kill the men) and it helped that they were slow and she was just… Superhuman?

“You fellas need to fight over me, it’s enough to go around.” The more she talked, the more she felt like a different person. Sure, she threw jokes around once in a while, but not like this.

In the end, she was able to get them all to the ground and web them up. She grabbed the phone in Stupid 1’s pocket and called the police. She turned to the lady, who looked stunned.

“The police will be here soon, so stay here or leave, I guess.”

“Who are you?”

“Who am I?” She had to think about that. “I don’t really know. I’ll get back to you in two business weeks.”

And with that, she took a risk and jumped off the building. When the lady saw that, she rushed to the edge, thinking her hero just committed suicide. But no, Amaka used her webs to swing to a building.

I bet I look so cool right now.

Extra-

Lady’s POV

The minute the hero left, the lady who looked helpless turned into a different person. She pulled out her phone and called one of her friends.

“Nat, done with the mission that fast.”

“Nope, I got interrupted I’m gonna need to stay for a few more days.”

Nat started to look at the three men who were tied up by these white things. To the women, it looked like thick spider webs.

“Tony, we got a new player in Gotham,” and turned her head away the stupid men.

“What do you mean player? You mean some kind of hero.” Tony replied.

“Yeah, what do you think I mean? And I’m pretty sure they’re not working for the Bat… at least not yet,” she said.

“Really, a hero that isn’t with Bruce?” Tony said. “Nat I’m gonna need you to work your magic and track that hero down. I want them on our side before Bruce gets to them. S.H.I.E.L.D. needs a hero in Gotham that we can trust.”

#batsis x batfam #batsis #spidersona #into the spider verse #marvel mcu #natasha romanoff #tony stark #avengers #batfam #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #spider oc #spiderverse oc

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thebreadisthetruevillian · 12 days ago

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Poll maybe???

I have a bunch of ideas for OC’s that go throughout the entire timeline of a bunch of fandoms:

Criminal Minds

Hotch’s best friend who is part of the BAU. Godmother to Jack. The forensics expert on the team. Makes random bets and jokes with Morgan throughout the case. Not sure who I want her to end up with.

Stranger Things

Dustin Hendersons older sister. Close with the 4 before will goes missing. Likes horror. Wants to be a writer maybe?? Don’t really want romance, and if it happens it’s more of a side note

Once Upon a Time

Henry best friend. Maybe like one of the 12 dancing princesses. Regina lets the OC grow with Henry once they become friends so he has a friend his age. Might later turn into best friends to lovers????,

Percy Jackson

Daughter of Apollo. Good at Archery and likes singing, but mainly helps in infirmary. Not bc she got the healing powers, but she got the plague powers. But that means she can identify a bunch of different plagues and help out a lot. Really close with Will. Slow burn to being with Connor Stoll

MCU

I KNOW ITS OVERDONE but Stark daughter. But no powers. Just being a genius as well. Can code and all that, but prefers law. Starts from Iron Man when she’s like 6-8 and continues on

Just to name a few. Would anyone be interested in reading what might basically turn into a rewrite with my OC added in???

I just think about it all the time and have a bunch of ideas and I just wonder if anyone would read it.

I can go in more detail if people want

#fanfiction #marvel #marvel mcu #mcu fanfiction #tony stark #OC ideas #criminals minds #criminals minds fanfiction #once upon a time #once upon a time fanfiction #Percy Jackson #connor stoll #Henry mills #daughter of Apollo #Percy Jackson fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #Dustin Henderson

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wiinnterfr0st · 29 days ago

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Another Little Stark idea since apparently I like hurting my own feelings.

SPOILER FOR THUNDERBOLTS END CREDITS!!!

Maybe after the Fantastic Four crash land and everything gets settled they need a place to live while getting their own place so they crash at the Watchtower. And of course, Reed Richards is gonna need a lab to do his science things in so with Little Stark’s permission, Bucky shows him her personal lab.

Maybe they stick to their own spaces for a little bit, just hovering around and awkwardly spending time in the same space. (Little Stark is just happy to not be alone in the lab anymore—Bruce, Tony, or Spider-Man used to share the space.)

Maybe it starts out small, like she falls asleep and Reed puts a blanket over her or something; maybe she makes him fresh tea to leave at his station when he’s just entering and she’s leaving. They just start doing small favors for each other.

Eventually this leads to the two talking and sharing their projects, eventually getting distracted to talk theories or share ideas. Reed teaches her more than the usual sciences she’s learned—her favored sciences are biomedical engineering and mechanical engineering because they make the most sense to me with her history—while she teaches him just as much with her out-of-the-box Stark intellect and creativity.

Ultimately they become almost like mentor and protege because for all Little Stark’s independence, she is still just around eighteen maybe nineteen at this point. Just a kid trying to appear like an adult in a world that hasn’t been very kind to her all while dealing with a lack of proper mental stimulation and burnout.

(Reed and Tony had a good friendship in the comics so I think in another universe, Reed would enjoy having a Stark brainiac around even if it’s an unhinged teenager.)

#marvel #marvel cinematic universe #marvel comics #thunderbolts #fantastic four #reed richards #mr fantastic #my oc #tony stark daughter #Little Stark

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ghostlymarauder · 26 days ago

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I remembered I have free will and decided to write a very long fanfic of marvel that I've been planning for the last four years in the wrong order even if that means I won't publish it for another four years (I've crafted my own prison and now chose to stay inside)

#you see I had an idea for a bucky fic that evolved into a matt fic that later evolved to a bucky/matt fic with an oc involved #and I also used the MCU as the base which meant I had to create a timeline where both Matt and mutants existed from the beggining of the mc #and also had to figure out a way to connect Matt to the MCU #I did much more work than I should've and ended up with an eight-part fanfic that I've tried to write a thousand times #so now I'm giving no fuck and beginning to write from civil war because wtf #my oc is also much more complicated than necessary btw #because i love to overcomplicate things #but who cares im doing this for fun #marvel #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #mutant oc who's also tony stark's daughter but howard's sister and yes it makes sense #anywho #captain america civil war #marvels daredevil #daredevil fanfiction #the winter soldier

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laurie-stark · 1 month ago

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Chapter IX: Sinkholes

With this chapter, we finally move into phase three of the book! Huzzah!

Word Count: 2.8k

Cherry Bomb Masterlist

Right, left, right, step and jab. Right, left, right, step and jab.

Beads of sweat were falling from the crown of my head. My hands were beating down heavy on the punching bag that swung from side to side. The muscles in my back and shoulders burned. I had been going at this for at least over an hour straight. The sweat left stains on the mat where my feet danced back and forth. Some of it got into my eyes, but I didn’t care to stop and wipe them. I liked the sting.

I never did manage to get A.P.R.I.L. to crack any information on the Accords, but it did not take a genius to figure out what was going on. News coverage of the United Nations meeting in Vienna was all over my Twitter feed. Dad said he was going to Vienna with Natasha. Big surprise, I put two and two together and knew that the Accords were being officiated. I didn’t see the need to fight the urge to hit something.

I knew that my form was sloppy, that my punches were too wild and predictable, but the rush was getting to my head. Despite the insanely decked out in-house movie theatre, lap pool, and fifteen acres of land, there was nothing better to do at the compound than train. What started as an effort to blow off some steam turned into desperate, unweilding blows. And the bag seemed to be doing more damage to me than I was doing to it. I was angry enough that the pain was numbing.

A couple more reps in and the skin on my knuckles busted open. I only started to hit harder. I imagined that the bag were the walls of the compound, and I was a Hydra operative being held hostage. I pictured myself breaking through the concrete onto the lawn, where a team of S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives were waiting, guns raised. And I would punch through all of them too.

And that daydream wasn’t that off beat. As far as I was concerned, I was a hostage in my own home. Happy walked me into the building when he dropped me off. The place was buzzing, far more so than on any other weekday afternoon. But no one seemed to pay me any mind as I slipped under and over the dozens of agents in the foyer. I hated that I was nearly the same height as most of them, yet I was being sent to my room like a little kid.

The first thing I noticed after dumping my overnight bag on the floor of my bedroom was a package sitting on the footboard bench. It was a tiny pink bag with sparkling tissue paper sticking out, and the Cartier logo etched on the front. Beside it, a piece of cardstock folded into a triangle with my name printed in bold letters. I picked that up first.

Laurel,

Try not to be too upset. You know it’s for the best.

Love,

Your super incredible and safety-concious father

P.S.

For the show

I reread the note a few times, always pausing on my name. Not Laurie, not Little Miss, or even Miss Stark. Laurel. Dad never called me by my full name, not even when I was in trouble. I found it incredibly disconcerting.

I opened the gift and sighed as I held out the contents in front of me. A beautiful gold chain with a rose pendant. Each petal had at least two dozen tiny diamonds and yellow sapphires. I saw this exact necklace go up for auction a few weeks ago and joked with Dad that it would be a good easter egg to wear for my school production. I tossed the necklace carelessly beside Dad’s note. I didn’t want his pitiful apology. So I took to letting it all out in the gym.

Tears were quick to join the stream of sweat down my face. Whether they were from anger, or frustration, or just the irritation from all the salt that was already in my eyes, I wasn’t sure. I made a bad correction of my footing and missed a swing at the bag. Completely off my rhythm now, I tried to find the balance again but my efforts were fruitless. I swung and missed, jabbed again and barely moved the bag at all. I shouted. My nails dug deeply into the skin of my palms and squeezed my eyes shut.

I felt dust crumbling onto my arms. I looked up and saw the punching bag lodged in the ceiling. I laughed dryly and made a feeble jump to try and reach the chain. It dangled just out of reach. I hung my head and made a move to a bench along the wall, where my water bottle and towel sat.

“You kept crossing your feet when you stepped, you know.”

I whipped around. Wanda was standing in the doorway. What was it with these European sleeper agents watching me throw punches like an angry frat boy?

I pointed at the punching bag above me.

“Seriously? That’s your constructive criticism right now?”

Wanda smiled and pushed off the doorframe. She was halfway to meeting me where I stood before she sat down cross-legged on the mat. She patted the floor in front of her, beckoning me to join.

We took turns passing my water bottle back and forth with our minds. Eventually we tossed in a few other items - an extra towel, a four pound weight, my shoe - and had a two-person juggling act going.

I caught my water bottle midair, hovering it close to my face. The familiar but faint purple glow outlined it. I flipped it one way and then the other, trying to figure out whether my hands or my mind was controlling the thing. I concluded it was a bit of both. I didn’t notice the dents that were beginning to form, as though invisible fingers were pushing in on the plastic.

“Don’t use so much strength, you’ll crush it,” Wanda said gently. “It is a delicate thing,” I liked the way her accent pronounced the word delicate.

I inhaled and relaxed a bit. I wasn’t sure if I could ever get used to this feeling. To hold something without touching it. To direct its movement from the inside out. I set the bottle down between myself and Wanda.

“What do you see when I do that?” I asked her. The pad of my thumb draws figure eights over my skin.

Wanda’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“When I’m, you know,” I wiggled my fingers in the air, “doing all of this. What do you see?”

“I just see you.” Wanda shrugged. “I see the bottle moving. I see you concentrating. Why are you asking?”

I’m not sure what I had expected to hear, but it wasn’t that. I allowed a small surge of energy to pool underneath my palms and the purple returned.

“No reason,” I replied, shaking my head. I took to looking at the floor like it was giving me a talking-to.

Wanda cocked her head to the side. “Well what do you see?”

I opened my mouth but the words fell short. The last time I lost control, when I gave our kitchen an impromptu remodel, I caught a glimpse of myself in the shattered tiles. A smokey violet haze clouded my head, and I could have sworn I saw a similar light behind the crazed look in my eyes. I had to admit, it was a little monstrous. I just assumed anyone else could see it too.

“It’s sort of hard to explain,” I confessed.

“Try anyways,” Wanda insisted. She was always a woman of few words.

“Well,” I began, “it’s like a purple glow. Or smoke, like I’m on fire. But it’s not hot, I can’t feel it. And sometimes it seems like a trick of the light, but it’s always there. Surrounding me.”

I flexed my hands as I spoke, watching the colour dance between my fingers.

“Sometimes it does what I tell it to, but other times it feels like I can’t control it.”

Wanda remained silent for a while, and I began to worry that she thought I was crazy. I mean, seeing a purple glow that’s not really there does sound a bit crazy.

“That’s very interesting,” she said, finally. “I’m hungry. I think Vision was attempting a new recipe. I might go see how disastrous that has become.”

She rose to her feet without so much as another word. I almost fell backwards at her capriciousness.

The way Wanda said “interesting” lacked any hint of judgement, or any hint of anything for that matter. It seemed like she also had no idea what to think about it. Which I thought was weird, because she was supposed to be the knower of all things power-related.

I drew a deep breath and gave the punching bag in the ceiling one more pitiful look before I abandoned it entirely. The adrenaline was finally beginning to dwindle, leaving a growing ache throughout my body. Nothing a good, long, everything shower wouldn’t fix.

I stood under scorching hot water until my fingers looked like raisins. It was a mindless routine. Shampoo, soap suds, scub my skin a little too hard, rinse, repeat. I winced when the water hit the welds on my knuckles. Hearing the water hit the white tile floor was almost loud enough to silence my thoughts.

I didn’t know where my father was at that moment. His voicemail left no indication about when exactly he left for Vienna. Had he sent me out the door for school that day knowing he was going to skip halfway across the world? Or was it another drop-of-the-hat plan? By my calculations he could have just landed or still have another few hours in the sky. I wondered how many whiskey on the rocks in he was.

I crossed the threshold between my ensuite bathroom into my room. Water from my hair dripped onto the wooden slats as I wrung strands between a towel. I paused in front of the Cartier bag that I had discarded onto the floor. The rose necklace was strewn about beside it. I knelt down, the muscles in my lower back protesting as I did.

The necklace was laying face down on the floor. I ran my thumb over the back of it. It was supposed to be hollow, a concave reflection of the three-dimensional rose shape. Instead, a tiny mechanism had been slotted into the space underneath my finger.

It looked awfully similar to the bracelet design I had drawn just that morning. The size of the thing made it hard to be certain. I saw no visible power source, so whatever the sensor did it was useless for now. I wracked my brain trying to remember if I had left older versions of the bracelet blue prints around the house. I considered the possibility that I was wrong, that the likeness in shape was a coincidence and maybe Dad had made a tracker of sorts. I made a mental note to take the necklace into my lab once my compound house-arrest was lifted.

By the time I got dressed and made my way into the kitchen (the strawberry-free one), Wanda had completely taken over Vision’s recipe. Judging by the taste of the dish, we were all better for it.

One good thing about having very few friends my age was that I had pretty much avoided having to be a third-wheel. Sitting at the dining room table across from Vision as he tried to spoon feed Wanda Parikash was enough to take my appetite away. I was of the personal opinion that human and cyborg relationships were crossing all kinds of lines. But I also fully supported the “love is love” movement, so who was I to judge?

I quickly excused myself back into my room and was occupied with a paper for history class. Funnily enough, it was about Steve. I was writing an argument that military emphasis on creating the perfect soldier entirely neglects that physical strength can only take a person so far, and that inner qualities are what distinguishes a soldier and a hero. It wasn’t due for another three weeks, but I figured I may as well take advantage of the canceled school days.

My phone was blowing up with text messages from the Dalton Theatre groupchat. Dad had failed to consider that prohibiting classes to run for two days meant that I was losing hours of rehearsal time. He’ll make up for it with another donation to the department, I thought.

I was nearly done with the outline of my paper when my computer screen started to shake. It was over faster than it begun, a steady rumble throughout the compound. An orange glow outside my window grabbed my attention. Something had just exploded in the yard.

I leapt to my feet and dashed down the hall. I slid to a stop just outside the kitchen where I had left Wanda and Vision and tried to digest what I was witnessing.

Clint Barton was in my living room. He and Wanda stood with their backs to me, looking down into what should have been concrete floor. But instead there was a gaping hole that spanned from our level all the way down to the underground storage rooms. Bits of rubble clattered against the bent rebar that stuck out every which way. My jaw hung lose.

“Are you kidding me?” I gawked. Clint and Wanda whipped around. I placed both hands on my hips firmly, trying to chanel my best impression of Pepper. “We just had the gym detailed. Not to mention the pool that’s probably flooding into God knows what.”

“Laurie!” Clint smiled warmly. Although the longer he held it, the more it turned into a grimace. He clapped his hands together. “So good to see you. My kids miss you.” I gave him an unamused look.

“You were not supposed to see this, so I am just going to take Miss Maximoff here and we will be on our way.” He gave the hole behind him a pitiful glance. Dust clouds had begun to rise. “I’m sure your father can handle the reapirs for that.”

Clint took Wanda by the hand and tugged her alongside him. They passed on my left, so I spun over my right.

“Hold on,” I said. I reached out an invisible hand and glued their feet to the floor. Clint flailed his arms around to regain his balance. “Where do you think you are going?”

“You don’t want to get involved, kid-”

“Without me,” I interrupted. I folded my arms over my chest and spun the two of them around to face me. “I don’t care what you’re doing. But I know it had something to do with the Accords. I want in.”

Clint snorted. “Absolutely not. My mission was to get this one,” he pointed at Wanda, “and this one only.”

I was about to give my rebuttal when I felt a shock go up my spine. A wave of cold came rushing up the neck and I gasped. It felt like a tiny, icicle hand was snaking through my brain. I involuntarily let go of the grip I had on Wanda and Clint’s feet and then it was over. Wanda had gotten inside my head, and I had let her.

“That was so not fair,” I said.

“We have to go,” Wanda responded softly.

“That’s so not fair!” I whined, stamping my heel into the floor like a rabbit or an oversized toddler.

Clint stepped towards me and put a hand on my shoulder. He bent down to meet me at eye level. “Laurie honey,” he started, “you can’t come. As a father, I would never forgive myself for putting Tony’s daughter in harms way.”

“Then let me put myself in harms way!” I exclaimed. “Tony will get over it.”

“I can’t do it, sorry kid.”

“I’ll call him right now.,” I threatened. Clint was good at masking what he was thinking, but I could tell that got his attention.

“If he wouldn’t want me going with you then he definitely wouldn’t be happy that you’re witchnapping Wanda. I’ll call him,” I said, point-blank. Clint continued to shake his head, so I slowly reached for my back pocket. “A.P.R.I.L., call Dad.”

“Okay, okay!” Clint held out his hands in surrender. “You win, but I am not taking responsibility for this.” I smiled smugly. He had no idea that I left my phone in my room.

“C’mon,” Clint said, gesturing for me to take his other hand. “We got one more stop.”

I skipped on the way out like a kid who just got permission to stay up past her bedtime. It wasn’t until I was happily stowed away in the backseat of Clint’s car that I realized I was still in my flannel PJ pants and slippers…

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