Stucky's daughter

82

The evening settled in, casting a somber hue across the Avengers' residence. Peter's voice broke the stillness, his tone a mix of concern and insistence. "Y/n...wake up!"

I groaned, burying my face in the pillow. "Leave me alone!"

Peter's voice persisted, gentle but persistent. "Come on, y/n, your dads want you downstairs!"

I pushed back, my voice muffled. "Well then they must come upstairs!"

Before I knew it, Peter had scooped me up and carried me downstairs. I grumbled as he set me down, irritated by the sudden interruption.

"You're a jerk!" I muttered, more out of frustration than actual anger.

Steve's voice chimed in, a familiar reprimand that made me roll my eyes. "Language!"

My eyes wandered, the room feeling heavy with everyone's gaze. "So why should I come downstairs?"

Bucky's voice held a tone of genuine worry, "Because we don't want you to be alone somewhere!"

My response was laced with skepticism, a hint of sarcasm creeping in. "Overreacting."

Steve's voice grew stern, an unspoken command beneath his words. "No, we aren't overreacting."

I sighed, plopping down onto the couch as the conversation shifted towards ordering food. Sam's proposal for everyone's meal preferences brought a touch of normalcy to the atmosphere.

"And you?" Sam turned to me, his gaze questioning.

I hesitated, then mumbled, "I don't know...a...salad?"

Tony's voice, dripping with playfulness, interrupted my choice. "A cheeseburger! You must!"

My frustration bubbled over, and I shot back, "Maybe you can talk to your kids that way, but not with me, you jerk!"

Thor's booming voice took charge, a blend of authority and warmth. "Y/n! Stop it now!"

Embarrassment crept up as everyone's attention shifted towards me. I slumped into the couch, my eyes narrowing as I caught Morgan's greeting.

"Hi!" Morgan's innocent voice brought a small smile to my lips.

"Hey," I replied, a little less guarded.

Her offer to play games caught me off guard, but curiosity got the best of me. "What do you want to play?"

Morgan's enthusiasm was contagious. "We could play Uno, Joker, hide and seek, or...we could sneak into my dad's office and play with stuff in there!"

I hesitated, my cautious side kicking in. "What if he finds out?"

Morgan's reassurance was swift. "He won't!"

The prospect of exploring Tony's office sounded intriguing. "Alright, let's go."

We tiptoed into the office, the space overwhelming with its grandeur.

"Wow, it's big!" I whispered.

Morgan agreed, her excitement palpable. "Yeah!"

But our little adventure was short-lived, as Jarvis notified Tony of our presence. Soon enough, Tony's voice echoed through the room, and Morgan and I found ourselves facing the inevitable.

"Alright, out! Not you, y/n. We must talk." Tony's stern tone was hard to ignore.

I exchanged glances with Morgan, apprehension written all over my face. Tony's lecture was a mix of scolding and worry, his words a reminder of how much the Avengers cared.

"Really?! We told you to stay in the living room! You can't be alone! Should we chain you up to the table, or why don't you just stay there?!"

Frustration gnawed at me, but I bit back my retort and slumped into the couch, my shoulders hunched.

"Because it's boring, Tony," I muttered under my breath.

"It's Mr. Stark for you!" he retorted sharply.

I sighed, pushing past him and retreating to my room. The night had taken an unexpected turn, emotions running high.

In the morning, I found myself awake at an ungodly hour, seeking refuge in the kitchen. Making tea was a mundane task that grounded me momentarily.

As the clock struck 6 am, the world began to stir. Steve and Bucky made their way downstairs, their presence a reminder of the newfound complexities in my life.

"We told you to stay with us!" Steve's voice held a mix of concern and exasperation.

I offered a sheepish smile, my attempt at an apology. "Yeah, uhm, sorry."

Bruce joined us, his calm demeanor offering a sense of stability. "So, everyone is going to be your 'teacher.' You're starting with math with Mr. Stark and me."

I glanced at my dads, my heart a mix of gratitude and apprehension. Math was never my strong suit.

Tony's voice droned on as he explained math problems, but my mind drifted. Mona Lisa, I thought to myself, trying to focus on something—anything—else.

"Alright, y/n, now you try," Tony prompted, pulling me back to reality.

I stammered, my lack of focus evident. "Uhm...I mean...Mona Lisa?"

Tony's patience wore thin, and he stormed out, quickly followed by my dads.

Tony reappeared with a more familiar sight—my dads. "Sorry, but I won't sit here for an hour and explain everything to her!"

Bucky's voice was gentle yet firm. "Why not?"

Tony's response was laced with frustration. "Because she's not paying attention!"

My heart ached, the tension between us palpable. I retreated, slumping onto the couch, the weight of their concerns settling heavily on my shoulders.

The room was a mix of subdued emotions and unspoken fears. My dad's attempt at comfort, Bucky's soft plea for understanding, all underscored the tumultuous connection that defined our bond.

In the quiet moments that followed, I pondered the complexity of my situation. The room felt heavy with unexpressed sentiments, leaving me with a sense of unease that no amount of teaching could alleviate.

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