The engine’s roar still echoed in your ears as you slipped back into the Avengers Tower, your pulse hammering. The police chase had been too close-but you’d lost them. A shaky exhale escaped your lips as you leaned against the wall, adrenaline still buzzing under your skin.

Made it. You thought and flicked on the lights-

"Fun night?"

You jumped, a scream tearing from your throat as your heart nearly exploded.

Tony Stark sat casually in your desk chair, arms crossed, face eerily calm. But his eyes-oh, his eyes burned with quiet fury.

"So," he started, voice dangerously smooth, "Let’s talk about why I just got a very interesting call from the NYPD." He tilted his head. "Something about an illegal street race… and a suspect’s car that mysteriously matches the specs of one of my prototypes."

Your stomach dropped. He knew. You had a big fight recently and you just wanted to have some fun. But not this.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

You swallowed hard. "Dad, I can explain-"

"Oh, I’m sure you can." He stood slowly, and though his tone was still measured, the fire in his gaze betrayed the storm you're about to face. "Because apparently, ‘I’ll be home by curfew’ translates to *‘I’ll be drag racing through the city at 3 AM while running from cops.'"