I’ve created something for every day of Steggy Week 2025 over at @steggyfanevents! This is for Day 5 (Colours and Symbols), and the colour I have chosen is pink, for my favourite flamingo, Bernard Stark! Previous Days: Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 - part 1, 2, 3, and 4 |
@doctorhelena @steggyfanevents SURPRISE!!!! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!! I have one final gift for you :))
read here on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/76352396/chapters/201172941
Setting: Los Angeles, 1947
The first rule of sparring with Steve Rogers, Peggy has learned, is that it is never, under any circumstances, purely about the sparring.
It doesn’t matter that this is Howard Stark’s private training room, all polished wood floors and expensive equipment designed to be both cutting-edge and ostentatiously unnecessary. It doesn’t matter that Peggy has wrapped her hands properly, rolled her shoulders loose, and settled into the calm, lethal focus that has seen her through more than one impossible fight. It doesn’t even matter that Steve is trying very hard to behave.
Because Steve Rogers trying not to think about his girlfriend is perhaps the most distracting thing in the world.
He stands opposite her, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, muscles taut beneath a plain white undershirt, hair still damp from washing up after whatever cover job Howard invented for him this week. There’s a crease between his brows that Peggy recognizes immediately, the one when he’s overthinking, when he’s measuring himself against a line he’s terrified of crossing.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says carefully, for the third time since they took their positions.
Peggy finishes tightening the wrap around her knuckles and looks up at him slowly, deliberately, like she’s giving him every opportunity to reconsider his next words.
“Steven Grant Rogers,” she says cooly, “if you say that one more time, I will demonstrate exactly how insulting it is.”
His mouth opens. Closes. He rubs the back of his neck, already halfway into an apology he hasn’t fully formed yet. “I just— I mean—“
She steps forward, close enough that he has to look down at her, close enough that she can feel the warmth radiating off him, steady and familiar. She pokes his chest with one finger, not teaingly, but firmly, right over his heart.
“I am not made of glass,” she tells him. “I am not breakable. I have been underestimated, dismissed, and endangered by men who thought they were protecting me. You do not get to be one of them.”
His jaw tightens, not in anger but in something deeper, resolve, maybe, or understanding finally snapping into place. “I don’t think you’re fragile,” he says quietly.
“You treat me like it,” she counters.
He exhales, slow and deliberate. “I’m trying not to.”
Her smile, when it comes, is sharp and delighted. “Then stop trying.”
Above them, on the balcony Howard has insisted on installing “for morale,” Howard Stark leans over the railing with a drink in hand, Bernard the flamingo perched illegally beside him like a witness who cannot be trusted.
“Oh, this is going to be excellent,” Howard murmurs. “Five bucks says they forget they’re sparring in under three minutes.”
Jarvis, standing at attention nearby, doesn’t even look up. “Sir, that is a training exercise.”
Howard grins. “Jarvis, this is courtship.”
Bernard honks approvingly.
round one: mistakes were made
Peggy doesn’t give Steve time to think.
She lunges, fast and precise, her movement a sharp exclamation point. Steve barely manages to block, forearm meeting forearm with a solid crack that echoes through the room. She pivots immediately, sweeping low and forcing him to jump back, his boots skidding slightly on the polished floor.
“There,” she snaps. “That hesitation. That’s what gets people killed.”
“I’m adjusting,” he grits out, already shifting his stance.
She feints left and punches right, aiming for his ribs. He twists away, catching her wrist, too gently, and that’s all the opening she needs. She uses his grip against him, turning sharply, wrenching free and driving her elbow into his shoulder with enough force to make him stagger.
Steve laughs despite himself, a breathless sound that loosens something tight in his chest. “You’re enjoying this.”
“I enjoy competence,” she replies. “And correcting your bad habits.”
They clash again, movement flowing now, instinctive. Peggy is quick and ruthless, every strike efficient. Steve adapts in real time, strength controlled but no longer tentative, reflexes honed by war and sharpened by trust. He stops pulling his punches, not because he’s careless, but because he knows she can meet him where he is.
She ducks under a wide swing, rolls, comes up behind him, and plants her foot squarely between his shoulder blades.
Steve goes down hard, the air knocked clean out of him in a startled oof.
Howard applauds enthusiastically. Bernard flaps.
Peggy plants a knee between Steve’s shoulder blades and presses him into the mat, her weight balanced, controlled, absolute. Her breath brushes his ear.
“Yield,” she says calmly.
Steve grins into the floor. “Never.”
She tightens her grip.
And then, smoothly, decisively, he flips them.
The world tilts. Suddenly Peggy’s on her back, Steve braced over her, hands gripping her wrists and pinning them above her head. His weight is carefully distributed, not crushing, but undeniably present.
They freeze.
The room seems to go very quiet.
Steve’s breathing is heavy now, chest rising and falling above her. Peggy can feel her pulse everywhere, in her wrists, her throat, the space where their bodies meet. His face is inches from hers, eyes dark, focused, not on the fight anymore.
“You cheated,” she says, breathless.
“You used your knee,” he murmurs.
“That’s allowed.”
“So is this.”
Her knee slides up, bracketing his hip.
Howard chokes on his drink. “I owe myself money.”
Jarvis turns on his heel and leaves the room. Bernard honks triumphantly.
round two: absolutely not sparring
Peggy twists, testing his grip. Steve adjusts automatically, muscles flexing, and she uses the movement to pull him closer instead of away. Too close. Intimate in a way that has nothing to do with combat and everything to do with everything else they’re not allowed to do in public.
“You’re distracted,” she says lightly.
He huffs a laugh. “So are you.”
“I’m multitasking.”
She bucks her hips just enough to throw him off balance. He catches himself with one arm, the other still holding her wrist, his body braced over hers, close enough that their noses brush.
“Peggy,” he breathes, her name a warning and a plea all at once.
She headbutts him.
Not hard, just enough to break the moment and flip them sideways, rolling until she’s on top, knees straddling his hips, hands braced on his chest. Her hair has come loose, a curl escaping to frame her flushed face, eyes bright with adrenaline and triumph.
Steve looks utterly undone beneath her.
“Focus,” she orders.
“You’re sitting on me,” he says faintly.
“Yes.”
“That’s not helping.”
She leans down, nose nearly touching his. “You should be able to focus under pressure.”
“Peggy—“
She kisses him.
It’s not soft. It’s heat and momentum and everything they’ve been holding back, weeks of stolen glances, careful distance, pretending in public, poured into one reckless, perfect moment. Steve’s hands come up automatically, gripping her waist, pulling her closer as if he can’t help himself.
Howard whoops from above. Bernard screams.
Jarvis is nowhere to be seen.
Peggy breaks the kiss only long enough to murmur, “Still sparring.”
Steve flips them again.
round three: surrender
This time when he pins her wrists, it’s deliberate. Confident. His grip is firm, his strength undeniable, his control absolute.
Peggy strains, not to escape, but to test him.
He holds steady.
Not cautious. Not hesitant.
Trusting.
Her breath catches.
“You’re not holding back,” she realizes softly.
“No,” he says, just as quietly. “I’m holding steady.”
Something in her chest loosens. She lifts her head, kisses his jaw, his cheek, the corner of his mouth.
“I don’t need you to be afraid of hurting me,” she tells him. “I need you to trust me to survive you.”
His breath shudders. “You always win these arguments.”
“I win most things.”
She kisses him again, slower now, deeper, the fight finally draining out of them. His hands loosen, sliding down her arms to rest at her waist, cradling rather than pinning.
They stay like that for a long moment, breathing each other in.
Being the adopted child of the Jarvises would include...
Masterlist - Join My Taglist!
Requested by @bandshirts-andbooks :) This is my first time writing headcanons, so hopefully they’re good and you like it!
Fandom: Marvel
Summary: As the title says :)
Word Count: 1,096 lmao I’m incapable of writing short things
Category: Fluff, Humor
A/N: Special shoutout to @ghostofskywalker for beta-ing this for me (QUEEN ily) and for the addition about Bernard lol
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
Ok, so as we know from Agent Carter, Ana and Edwin Jarvis both DEFINITELY want kids
As we also know, Ana can’t have kids biologically after she literally almost died from a gunshot
They would be SO EXCITED to adopt a kid, and probably started the process as soon as the Isodyne/Whitney Frost/Vernon Masters stuff got figured out
They would be SO. PROTECTIVE. Omg, you can’t even imagine
And the rest of the crew? OH BOY. But we’ll get to that later
Basically, these two are the best parents. Ever.
They’re both patient and kind and caring, and the three of you are absolute GOALS. I’m talking tightest-knit family ever
And like, you still argue sometimes, because everyone does. But no matter how much you argue, you know they both still love you so much. It never, ever hurts your relationship
Ana is so sweet and soft and kind
You can talk to her about anything
Peak Mom Vibes™
She’s always ready to listen with ice cream, cookies, and milk at the ready if you need them (or whatever your comfort foods are)
You can tell her ANYTHING and she’s ready to listen with no judgment, only kind understanding
She just loves you so, so much, and it’s so clear in every single thing she does as your mother
Edwin is equally kind and caring and loving, although in a slightly different way
Especially once you get into dating-age, he’s running full background checks on anyone you bring home with his SSR and Howard Stark connections
He just adores you and wants to make sure you’re safe and happy, and with someone as wonderful as you are
He’s also pretty easy to talk to though, and you guys share a bunch of special, unique traditions
Following him around in the process of taking care of the Stark Menagerie
Bernard adored you from the first day you met him and your dad’s still salty about it
Making THE PERFECT cup of tea and sharing it together in the living room as you listen to your favorite radio program together
Sitting and talking together over some leftover snacks, long after Ana has gone to bed, just sharing about your days and your lives and everything going on in them
He is low key the BEST dad, it’s incredible
Speaking of snacks, y’all definitely cook and bake together as a family
Like omg, the level of food coming out of your family kitchen??? InSANE
You become such a good cook just from hanging around in the kitchen with the two of them
And you end up loving cooking because they always made it a family event
You gather together, work on things in the kitchen together while talking about your days, eat together, and then do the dishes together
Basically, you three are absolutely inseparable, and you’re completely unashamed to say your parents are your best friends
Additionally, unrelated to Ana and Edwin’s parenting styles, the rest of the crew is so SO protective of you
Like, Peggy Carter would absolutely kill any man that made you feel unsafe/uncomfortable
You grow up calling her “Aunt Peggy”, which is its own kind of incredible, and she’s the fun aunt mischievous influence that we all need in our lives
“Aunt Peggy, this boy’s being mean to me at school”
“Punch him and show him who’s boss once and for all. Here, I’ll show you the right stance”
Daniel, although less chaotic, would also absolutely kill for you
Pity anyone you bring home, honestly
Daniel’s also a good person to go to with anything you might not want to bring to your parents, although there’s basically nothing you can’t talk to them about. He’s always kind and understanding, and if you tell him something in confidence, he never shares it with ANYONE
Jack is the Bad Uncle™ with all the shady skills and questionable advice to go with it
Ana and Edwin left him on babysitting duty exactly one time, and then never again
Still, he comes around for holidays and stuff and always teaches you fun new skills like how to hotwire a car, for emergency purposes only of course
He’d never admit it, but he actually has such a soft spot for you. He loves hanging out with you, and once you get old enough to know when to ignore his bad ideas, he’s on babysitting/chaperone/whatever else duty whenever Ana and Edwin let him take it
One time when Ana and Edwin couldn’t make it to be chaperones on a school trip, Jack volunteered to take their place, and it was an adventure to say the least. But that’s a different fic.
Howard has no idea how to handle kids, but he ends up absolutely loving you
Low key, you’re the reason he decides to have Tony after he gets serious with Maria
It’s just so FUN for him to have a kid around to pass knowledge on to and to share lab time with and everything else that goes with having a science child
Whenever you spend time with him, Ana and Jarvis pick up a few gray hairs from the new information he’s given you that can easily be put to use in terms of mischief
Like Jack, Howard is only allowed to babysit once or twice before Ana and Edwin realize it’s definitely not worth the trouble that comes after a babysitting session
With all your extended family at the SSR and Stark Industries, however, no matter how infrequently they babysit, you are SO. LOVED.
You’re the first kid brought into the mix, and everyone absolutely adores you
And you know you have at least 5 other parents who are hovering around you and ready and willing to help with any little thing besides your actual parents
But as much as that’s a wonderful thing to have, you don’t really need them, because Ana and Edwin are the best parents you could’ve asked for
They’re wonderful, even when you have challenging patches, and you love them more than you could ever express
The three of you are such a loving, tight-knit family, and you’re absolute goals for everyone else
Basically, being an adopted child of the Jarvises is a dream come true, to the same degree that you’re a dream come true for them to have as a child
They love you no matter what and they have your back through everything
Even if it’s not by blood, you’re a Jarvis to the core, and absolutely nothing could ever tell you otherwise
