This is the second draft of my Iron Man OC fic, this time with my OC's personality tweaked a bit; now she actually has one. My first mistake was seeing Tony as he is in The Avengers, not the first half of Iron Man. Pre-Iron Man Tony and Post-Iron Man Tony are two completely different people, and I should treat them as such.
This originally started when the Iron Man movie starts, but I thought it would be better to give my character a little background so it wasn't BAM! OC in Iron Man!
Without further ado, I give you my first attempt at Marvel fanfiction.
The Stark name was Legendary.
It began with Howard Stark, who worked alongside his father, Howard Stark Senior. Together, they founded Stark Industries. Howard funded various military projects, including the Manhattan Project, and his weapons systems were, at the time, the best in the world. Howard's legacy continued with his son Tony, who took over Stark Industries when Howard and his wife Maria perished in a plane crash.
Tony Stark was raised to be a war monger, and he was good at it. His company produced deadlier weapons than ever before, and he didn't seem to care who got caught in the crossfire.
His daughter, however, was a different story.
From the day Erika Maria Stark was old enough to talk, she opposed Stark Industries and what it stood for. She showed the same intellect as her father and grandfather, but from day one decided not to contribute to the Stark family business. Instead, she decided that there were better uses for her intelligence.
At an early age, Erika discovered that if she turned up the charm, people would almost always bend over backwards to make her happy. Her charms also meant that, for a while, she had Tony wrapped around her tiny little fingers.
Four year old Erika was sitting in her bed, listening for any sounds in the main house. After what felt like forever, she finally heard signs of life.
A high-pitched giggle made her leap out of bed and grab her teddy bear (to crank up the cuteness). Clad in footie pajamas and wielding her stuffed bear, Erika knew she was irresistible.
Tony was very please with himself. He'd had a charity gala to go to, and as usual, he'd managed to land the hottest chick there. Said hot chick was currently straddling him in his couch, loosening his tie. Tony ran his hands down her sides and was reaching around for the zipper on her dress when a small voice cut through his alcohol-fogged brain.
Tammy—or was it Kathy? Emily? Ashley? Maybe something with a J. Eh, let's just call her Hot Chick. Hot Chick's hands stilled and her head turned to look at the doorway.
A little girl with brown hair was standing there, clad in one-piece pajamas and holding a stuffed bear by one of its arms. "Daddy?" she called again in a small voice.
"Hey, Kiddo," said Tony, easing Hot Chick off his lap. "Isn't it a little late for you to be up?"
Hot chick didn't look happy. "Tony, who's this?" she asked in an extremely high-pitched voice.
Gah, her voice was annoying.
Tony waved his right hand. "This," he gestured to the girl. "Is Erika. Erika, this is . . ."
Tony snapped his fingers. "Right, Lilly. Erika, this is Lilly." He stood up and went to Erika, bending down and bracing his hands on his legs. "Lilly and I were kinda in the middle of something, so how bout you go back to bed?" He said, ruffling Erika's hair.
Erika pouted. "I had a bad dream," she said quietly, her bright green eyes staring up at him. "Daddy, will you please tuck me in?"
Tony stood up straight and ran a hand through his hair. He looked back at . . . . Damn, he forgot her name, again. Something with a T, he was sure of it. He held up an index finger and gestured to Erika.
Tasha? Tammy? Whoever she was, she looked extremely annoyed. She tapped her wrist in an "I'm timing you" manner then crossed her arms and leaned back into the couch.
Tony blew her a kiss, then reached down and scooped up his daughter, who wrapped her tiny arms around his neck and rested her chin on his shoulder.
He never saw Erika smirk and stick her tongue out at his date.
A/N: So, there's part one. I'm having a hard time picking a name for this.