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When Tony decided to open the Stark Mansion as a wayward house for misfits and supernatural anomalies, it was honestly just another throw away “fuck you” to Howard.
Her father, in only name, was notorious for hating anything supernatural. Hilariously ironic since he married a descendant to the goddess of nightmares, Melinoe.
Now, Tony didn't quite expect anyone to take the ad seriously and come knocking. Well, she didn't think anyone would be desperate enough to be taking her up on the invitation. She especially did not expect anyone to want to stay with her.
It was weird enough that she exclusively communicated to the world through Pepper or Rhodey. Outside of them, she only talked to JARVIS or Happy. Therefore, people would be essentially coming to a house that had been in stasis for the last thirteen years. The only sign of time passing by was the dust covered sheets and stale air. Understandably, no one in their right mind should want to live in a house that was very clearly not suitable to live in at the moment, and with a stranger they knew almost nothing about except for the fact her ancestry included the god of the underworld, destroyer of light, and goddess of nightmares. This was exactly the setup for how people ended up murdered.
Which apparently, neither of her first two guests cared about.
Funnily enough, their name is both James. Which ended up prompting her to call up her James to complain that every James in the Tri-State area was migrating to her and it’s all his fault for planting the idea in her head and starting this mess.
Rhodey listened, laughed, and then stated, "You dug a hole, now either get yourself out or build a bed" before he hung up on her.
Tony may have ranted seventy minutes to JARVIS, while he floated around her clearing her aura, looking perfectly sympathetic, about mutiny and disrespect. But, never one to back down from any previous bullshit her mouth had gotten her into before, plus the fact the Jameses were already here, Tony dug her foot in the metaphorical mud and pressed on. Her petty ass was going to show everyone that Natasha Antonia Stark was determined enough to single-handedly scrub this whole place until even the black smudge that was her childhood, sparkled.
Life was trying to play a game of chicken with the wrong pig-headed asshole.
Logan, because she has a James and she really does not need any other, ―this is getting ridiculous people― smokes his cigars and bitches about a sensitive nose about eighty-eight percent of the time that Tony is within earshot. The other twelve percent is throwing in unhelpful suggestions, but damn, does the man make a mean moonshine.
Buchanan, because it’ll be a cold day in hell before she calls a grown man Bucky, ―honestly she suffers from second-hand embarrassment for him― was a hundred percent, perfect gentleman that insisted on assisting, mostly silently, with every single part of the redecorating process. Truly a great listener, who got on wonderfully with Tony’s motormouth.
Thus, they all spent six months preparing the house to actually be livable for multiple people.
Which went from Tony and her Jameses, to a small handful of single moms, children, general homeless population who wanted a shower and a hot meal, etc.
That meant Tony getting a massive fridge, fresh utensils, towels, and dishes. Old offices and random rooms were turned into places with beds, cabinets, and a little more personality, in general. Parts of the house were baby-proofed, and Tony made sure to mass-order baby supplies, toys, cleaning supplies and a shit ton of basic menstrual supplies. It took awhile for people to accept asking her for help; no one made it easy and actually asked for things. No, Tony had to find out from her baby boy, JARVIS, who kept an eye on things and informed Tony of anything he deemed necessary. Tony ended up with mountains of time, money and energy pouring into this frankly crapshoot of an idea.
Then again, JARVIS was born from similarly crapshoot idea. Long story, made very short: Edwin Jarvis, completely human, bless his soul, was killed in a kidnapping-gone-horribly-wrong back when Tony was still sixteen and addicted to everything besides healthy relationships. Drunk out of her mind and broken from the lost from the first person who ever truly loved her, wholly and completely, Tony dug through her whole consciousness for every good thought, idea, loving feeling, Edwin Jarvis was to her and shoved it all together to create the incorporeal soft-blue glimmer that is now JARVIS.
Honestly, without him, Tony would probably have trashed this open-house-to-all idea and thrown everyone out to return to life as a genius-billionaire-hermit.
Throughout it all, Buchanan was a constant presence at her side, assisting with anything she asked, with things she didn't ask, and despite several blow ups― Tony’s because she always had a short fuse and a hatred for needing assistance.
Logan, after two months into renovations of watching, criticizing, and drinking beer, left.
He’d pop by again within a month or two, leave a week or so later, and then come back again; sometimes just passed through for a single meal and disappearing after washing his dishes―
That brought on the mystery of both Jameses' aversion of utilizing any of the three dishwashers Tony personally installed in the kitchen. Honestly, it drove her nuts but eventually she had to come to terms with the fact that these idiots ―her idiots now― wanted to wash dishes by hand the hard way with scorching water.
All in all, like a bad penny, Logan always found his way back to the mansion, and eventually, he even started bringing people with him.
He found more children that needed a home, from bad backgrounds that sometimes made Tony flinched seeing the bruises littering their tiny faces, and sometimes they flinched when Tony spoke too loud.
Tony was honestly terrifying she’s going to become these kids' Howard― apathetic and dismissive.
He dropped of elders who had no one and wanted to feel useful, it was wild to Tony that everyone seemed to not only happy to live with her, but they wanted to do their part to help this stupid, spontaneous, rash project of Tony's succeed.
Truthfully, Tony was not ashamed she cried when three older ladies spent an afternoon playing with her hair and singing her to sleep.
Tony had no clue where or how Logan found these people, what he was doing, why he deemed it smart to drop these people in Tony's metaphorical lap, but before the second year, this throw away idea had firmly rooted itself into reality.
Tony's favorite additions were those that threw a wrench in her original plans. They needed accommodations Tony never would think of as an able-bodied person. And so extra lights were installed all throughout the living spaces, bathrooms, and bedrooms, to be used in case of emergencies to give warnings and capture attention. An elevator was added to travel between any of the four floors, as well as the basement. Ramps and pathways were made, both throughout the house and the whole plot of land that included the park and lake.
It even took Harley mentioning that Buchanan rarely used his left arm for anything because it seemed he didn't have fine-motor control, or even the ability to feel with the arm, before Tony realized she definitely could make one better or even do some more than the basic maintenance so that he could. Which of course was another story of Tony fucking up with basic human interaction and Buchanan hiding from her for a few days before he appeared before her and not only let her apologize but talked to her about a plan with his arm.
By the third year, people started to drop in without having absolutely nowhere else to go. Sometimes, some would end up leaving. Some came back, and the majority would swing by for a visit. It became a safe place to find and be one’s self.
Tony learned a thousand new sexual orientations and gender identities, and a million more labels she could barely pronounce and some which she didn't quite understand but she supported them and she'd ask questions and listen to anyone who wanted to explain.
And she loved them as they were, as they chose to be, as they found out.
Fuck you Howard and your shitty-ass parental skills.
Of course, when she called up Rhodey again to complain about fears, all she got for her troubles this time was his amused chuckles and, “You’ll figure it out Tones, you always do.”
And so Tony did what she always did when the voice that sounded too much like Howard told her she was doomed to fail: put on her big kid pants and thrived. If that meant learning to navigate life with other people, then she was going to rock the shit out of providing a safe haven for them.
It was nice.
It was ―having people awake all hours of the day and night so whenever Tony popped to get coffee at two in the morning to find someone already made a pot and poured a cup for her― nice.
It was ―a post-it note after she had found a streak of mud and leaves that someone dragged in with them and yelled at everyone, with a “sorry” and a sad face, as well as the mess cleaned until the floor shined― nice.
It was ―occupancy numbers growing because people kept… not leaving― nice.
Tony found herself joking around with people and them laughing at her jokes and creating inside jokes with others outside of her very tight, very small circle of those she trusted.
And looking up from her workshop to find a tray of snacks in the mail-window ―that she definitely did not make herself nor just because her new fam-housemates asked her to, excuse you Pep stop laughing, you've been gossiping with Rhodey and Happy too much.
It was nice and Tony liked the warm feeling she had been getting from it all, okay JARVIS are you happy?
“Quite,” JARVIS confirmed, bunting his head against her temple gently, radiating smugness.
“After all, Ms., my primary objective is to ensure your well-being and happiness."
Then, naturally, when her housemates started showing symptoms of a common cold, ―shows how adaptable humans’ fucking viriuses are― Tony found herself making the same chicken noodle soup that human Jarvis had made when she was a child.
“The best remedy for a cold is my mother’s homemade soup,” Jarvis stated when he delivered the soup to Tony.
“You’re mama?”
“She taught it to me when I was your age, young miss.” Jarvis smiled down at her softly and finger combed her hair back so it wouldn’t get into the soup. Tony’s face must have given her thoughts away because Jarvis’ kind expression grew even softer when he added, “When you feel better, I’ll teach it to you too.”
Tony had eagerly nodded and with renewed vigor, ate the soup. Maybe it was the nostalgia of the moment but that specific soup Jarvis had made her was the best thing she had ever eaten.
She was pulled from her memories when someone entered the kitchen and spoke up from behind her.
“You know Tasha,” Natasha, the other Natasha, who refused since the day she had waltzed through the Mansion’s double doors to refer to her as anything else besides ‘Tasha’, said around a bite of an apple. “I would not have expected you to be the housewife type.”
Tony snorted, eyes still on efficiently chopping the vegetables for the chicken noodle soup she was brewing. Natasha slipped beside her and Tony could feel the other’s eyes on her as she worked.
“Well Tasha,” Tony threw the name at the other woman, risking a peak past her face to the translucent red snakes slithering through equally blood red hair, “I suppose you shouldn’t make assumptions of people you hardly know.”
Natasha simply hummed in acknowledgement, which honestly could mean a number of things but the snakes looked to be cackling, or whatever was the snake version of laughter, so Tony figured she wasn’t in any real danger. Not even when Natasha started snatching diced-veggies right from where the knife was hitting the cutingboard.
“Stop that,” Tony grumbled not even hesitating to carry on with the dicing.
“Afraid I’ll hurt myself,” Natasha challenged and continued her ridiculous game of chicken. With Tony’s knife.
“Please. More that you’re going to ruin my soup by bleeding all over the vegetables." Tony finally took the knife away from the cutting board so she could properly squint at Natasha. Who was leaning against the counter munching on her winnings.
“Tawny. Na’,” Clint mumbled in lieu of a hello as he came stumbling in, completely wrapped in his violet comforter.
“Hey buddy, feeling better," Tony asked, turning her attention away from Natasha, ready to catch the Clint-burrito if he toppled over.
“Wamth,” he sniffled, shuffling closer to the stove.
“Sorry, he slipped past me,” Buchanan ‘Tony please, just call me James’, said as he came whipping around the corner, hair dutch-braided, freshly showered, and smelling faintly like sage. That meant either Buchanan was using new shampoo, or more likely, Clint had gone wandering into the young Maximoff’s room during one of her protection rituals.
“Smells amazing Tony. Thank you so much for making soup," Buchanan said in the most fucking sincere voice after he managed to haul the sick werewolf over his non-metal shoulder, because the guy was like a giant teddy bear, or more accurately overgrown dog. Seriously, the guy was the tamest wolf shifter Tony had ever met.
Tony just shooed his thanks away.
“Aw, wamth, no.” Clint, who finally registered he was upside down and being taken away, tried to wiggle out of Buchanan's grip to no avail. The only indication that Clint was struggling was the subtle shift in Buchanan's back muscles that were clearly outlined through his goddamn wet light pink shirt.
Tony could hear the smugness radiating off of Natasha.
“Not a word,” Tony said tearing her attention back to the assignment at hand.
They continued working, and by they, Tony continued to work and Natasha continued being a pest, in silence until Tony had defended as much veggies as she was going to get and poured them into the simmering broth.
"So," Natasha finally said. "You need anything done?"
Tony gave her a stink-eye. "After I finished. Really?"
Natasha just shrugged, tossing the core of the apple through the window and into Maria Stark's prized rose bushes.
"Stir the soup, and don't you dare eat it until it's finished and in a dinner bowl," Tony directed, stepping over to the other counter and to shred the chicken by hand.
The two of them worked together until the soup was just about done, and by the time Bruce shuffled in with no glasses, bundled in three different jackets, and somehow still shivering.
"No sick people in the kitchen," Tony immediately scolded him.
He stopped, taking a moment to blink owlishly at Tony, mind obviously slowed by his cold.
"Tea?"
Tony rolled her eyes and huffed, pretending she couldn’t feel her lips curling into a fond smile.
"Natasha will make some." Tony got a hiss from Natasha's snakes for that one but she still went to grab the kettle.
Bruce stood in the middle of the kitchen, squinting at nothing and waiting.
"I've got this," Natasha cut in before Tony could even open her mouth and then Bruce was swept out of the kitchen before Tony could even respond with an "okay."
By the time Tony was serving the soup into bowls to bring people, both Natasha and Buchanan came back and ended up kicking her out of her own kitchen to sit with the others and let them serve the soup and tea.
That’s how Tony ended up on idiot duty, which mostly was trying to corral one blond beefcake hybrid supersoldier back to his corner of the couch to wait because the ass was stubbornly refusing to admit he was sick, despite the fact he had a 102 fever, was sniffling every other word, and his voice was so hoarse he could barely speak.
"Sit the fuck down Steven, you absolute walnut-head, before you end up hurting more than just your idiotic pride."
Tony didn’t give him the chance to speak before turning her attention to her next idiot.
"Jones, I swear by all you hold dear, if you try to push Clint off the couch one more time I’m throwing you in the goddamn dumpster."
“Suck a dick, Stark,” Jessica spat back at her, and considering the redness of her stuffy nose, she probably physically spat too.
"Riri,” Tony warned, continuing her stare-off with one Jessica Jones. “You do not need seven blankets, either give at least five of them up or lose all of them."
Tony couldn’t see the young witch, but she heard shuffling of cloth as well as Anna-Marie's, Kamala's and Harley’s muffled thanks.
Jessica finally sneezed and grumbled herself away into a blanket burrito.
“Logan―” Tony started sweetly, already anticipating the grunt of acknowledgement and continuing on. "If you do not take those disgusting 100 year old boots off my antique coffee table and out of my house I will throttle you.”
The man in question scoffed at the threat but obeyed, almost biting off Remy's head when the man had the balls to laugh.
Or course it's in the middle of the whole shitshow when Pepper and Rhodey make their appearance.
"Playing Mama bear again, eh Tones," Rhodey chuckled, carrying several packets of cough drops in his arms. His deep blue and black dragon familiar, Roxy, snug around his neck in her cat-sized form, taking surveillance of the room.
"I retract your invitation, honeypot. Leave. Take these heathens with you."
"Tony," Pepper said, probably trying for scolding but the effect―hint hint, wink wink― was ruined when her glamour was slipping with how hard she was fighting to suppress her laughter. "Behave."
Tony gasped and the peanut gallery fell into an assortment of giggles.
"I am always behaving, Pepper-pot. Is it always well? No, but I promise I'm always behaving."
Buchanan hustled past in Tony's perpendicular vision, a suspicion twitch to his mouth, taking the cough drops and whatever concoction from Pepper to distribute them, as well as overseeing idiot-control role while Tony greeted her two oldest friends.
Did Tony mention already what a fucking perfect (asshole) gentleman he was?
"You're something alright, Tones," Rhodey drew her into a hug and tightened his grip enough so that her half-hearted struggle seemed real, letting her protect her reputation ―gods she loved him.
"Ten bucks Stark brings the crocodile tears," Kitty didn't even pretend to whisper to Kurt.
“Traitors. That's all I'm surrounded with," Tony accused, giving Roxy a good chin scratch before pulling back from her oldest friend to place one hand over her heart and the other over her eyes. Rhodey snorted and went to helping out the kitchen crew with dispersing dinner. Or maybe he was joining in on the current round of 'Steve. Sit down, shut up, you're not fooling anyone into thinking you're remotely healthy'.
Pepper rolled her eyes but pulled Tony into a brief hug and gave both Tony’s cheeks a kiss, despite the disgusted face Tony made at her antics.
"You look happy, Tony." Pepper's eyes crinkled in delight and Tony fought the urge to blush.
"It's nice," Tony lamented softly, having nothing better to say.
Pepper beamed brighter.
Finally, after soups, teas, and other dinner related necessities were given out, all thirty-something residents finally started to quiet down.
Buchanan corralled Tony into an unused space of the floor and disappeared for a moment, before bringing back a whole fucking couch chair from somewhere, and all but made her seat in it. Peter, Gwen, and Jubilee all had to move their blanket fort to accommodate her but they each gave Tony a happy, admittedly also sickly, smile. Buchanan brought her a bowl of soup by the time she looked up from the kids and then plopped down on the floor beside her.
Tony grumbled a thanks to him before looking around at the rest pseudo-family all settling in. JARVIS dimmed the lights for the movie, and Tony let a pleased smile creep out in the safety of the dark. She could get use to nice.