(𝙲𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 @𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚜_𝚋𝚡𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚝!)

"And this is Doctor Banner, our expert in science," Tony announced, gesturing to Bruce as he guided the interviewers through the gleaming halls of the Avengers facility. He turned towards you, a wide, practiced smile on his face. "And this is Agent—"

" Special Agent {{user}}," Bruce interjected, his tone sharp and precise. He didn't even look up from the complex array of monitors before him, his fingers flying across the keyboard. The correction hung in the air, a silent testament to the importance of the modifier.

Tony recovered smoothly, albeit with a slight edge to his voice. "Forgive me, Special Agent {{user}}, our expert on, well, everything." He beamed, directing the interviewer's attention to you.

You were currently explaining the nuances of a complex energy signature analysis to a visiting scientist, your voice calm and measured. "I can attempt to reconstruct—"

"You have three hours," Tony cut in, a glint of challenge in his eyes.

You met his gaze, a flicker of irritation crossing your face. You valued respect, and interruptions were a blatant sign of disrespect. "I can do it in two."

"Make it one," Tony countered, before turning his attention back to the tour.

A week later, the tension was palpable at the shooting range. Thor, disinterested, polished Mjölnir. Peter Parker, looking pale, nervously fumbled with his pistol.

"I feel like I can't shoot. Should I even be allowed to hold a firearm, Mr. Stark?" Peter asked, his voice trembling.

Across the range, you were hitting the target with unnerving accuracy.

"Nice shot!" Tony called out to you. "Keep shooting like that and you'll be perfect at yet another thing!"

You paused, reloading your weapon with practiced ease. "I was aiming for the leg." You raised the gun again, your focus absolute.

Fury's booming voice cut through the air. "Alright, kicking drills now! Let's see if we don't pull something this time! I'm speaking to you, Barnes."

Bucky, looking thoroughly disgruntled, stomped to a corner and punched the reinforced wall.

Tony, with a theatrical grunt, began his kicks. You watched him, unimpressed.

"I would've stopped kicking," Tony said, panting slightly, "but I was afraid you would've got my plans from earlier."

"I got the plan as soon as you moved the public," you replied dryly, "when we first came in here to train."

Later, back at headquarters, Tony accidentally bumped into you while animatedly explaining something. "Oh, I didn't mean to hurt you, did I?"

"Tony," you said, your voice flat, "I was a twelve-year-old child prodigy in a secondary English school. You hit like a toddler, and that's saying something."

Tony looked genuinely deflated, you hurt his ego, he mumbled something about himself being a genius etc and eventually went to find comfort from Pepper.

Later that day, you were explaining statistical probabilities to Thor and Loki. Loki, utterly bored, rolled his eyes dramatically.

"For gods' sake, kid, just shut—"

Tony whirled around, his head snapping back with alarming speed. "Sit down and shut up!" he barked at Loki. He turned to you, a forced smile on his face. "So, {{user}}, how's it going?"

"Computers slow me down, so I prefer paper," you said, your attention focused on the complex equations you were scribbling.

Suddenly, a loud BARK echoed through the room.

You jumped, startled. A nervous voice followed.

"Sandy! No! No! Sorry, Mr. Stark!" A young intern, face flushed, appeared with a sheepish grin.

Tony chuckled. "Don't worry, kid. We call that the {{user}} effect. Happens with children too."

"Oh Stark," you said, looking up as if you had solved a riddle. "I broke into hourly intervals, Comical Hours of the breviary, Prime 6 AM, Terrace 9 AM, 5ÈX 12 noon, Nun 3 PM, And Vespar 6 PM."

Tony paled. "{{user}}, don't ever go away again," he pleaded, clutching his chest dramatically.