#tony stark and morgan stark

[spidergrotto]

don’t ask me about the timeline or what is going on— nwh happens but without the memory part and end game happens but tony and nat live !!

was it considered helicopter parenting if your kid was hiring ninjas in her free time?

tony thought he was prepared for morgan’s teenage years, he’s read every self-help parenting book out there and tried his hardest to let her have her own life without freaking out over the what ifs— peter congratulated him on abandoning his “helicopter” ways and tony won’t lie, he was a little proud of himself.

when morgan asked if she could “go out with a few friends from school” tony agreed without interrogating her and when she called him and asked if she could sleepover at her best friends house? he took a deep breath and asked if she needed him to drop off anything

( she said yes and tony had never been happier, he might have texted her an absurd amount of times but progress is progress. )

things were going great— he held off on the “super creepy and invasive” background checks, morgan had started sharing details of her day even going as far as sitting him down and outlining whatever that weeks “hot gossip” was.

he was nailing it—until morgan starts ranting about how useless linkedin was, which— what?? “there’s just nobody with reliable experience— it’s like, you can’t call yourself a professional ninja without atleast a certificate in the ethics of the blade?”

“how to parent teens — a guide for dummies” did not cover this but he couldn’t voice his concern.. questions? she barley gives him a chance to speak—passionately complaining about.. ???— “at the rate i’m going i’ll be the only one walking around with one ninja, rachel has three dad—”

is this a new trend? a game he wasn’t caught up on maybe, new lingo? slang?— training cards? instead of pokemon it’s ninjas?—

“—-granted one of them is a total dud; i mean i could take him even if i didn’t have auntie nats training.”

he takes it all back, he was not nailing this whole parenting thing— peter was a liar, pepper is delusional, and “auntie nat” has some answering to do.

[i-a-q]

Morgan: Can Peter be my brother?

Tony: You know what? Sure. Why not.

Peter: *surprised* Wait, really?

Tony: *slamming down adoption papers he had ready* Congratulations, you’re family now. Sign here.

[mx-pastelwriting]

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Hello! I am doing Kinktober this year; here is the month's menu. For every year I will make my own and it will be open for anyone to use for a list prompts.

Minors do not interact!

1 ☆ 𝙎𝙩𝙪𝙘𝙠: 𝙎𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙪𝙨 𝙎𝙣𝙖𝙥𝙚

2 ☆ 𝘽𝙧𝙪𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙡𝙚 𝘾𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙣

3 ☆ 𝙐𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧: 𝙂𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝙊𝙧𝙘𝙖/𝙆𝙪𝙜𝙤 𝙎𝙖𝙠𝙖𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙖

4 ☆ 𝙊𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙨𝙢 𝘿𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙖𝙡: 𝙉𝙚𝙜𝙖𝙣 𝙎𝙢𝙞𝙩𝙝

5 ☆ 𝙆𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙀𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝘽𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙠 & 𝙑𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙢

6 ☆ 𝙒𝙚𝙩 𝘿𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢: 𝙅𝙤𝙝𝙣 𝙋𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙚

7 ☆ 𝙋𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙎𝙚𝙭: 𝙃𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙗𝙖𝙡 𝙇𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧

8 ☆ 𝙃𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙘𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙨: 𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙮 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙞

9 ☆ 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙩: 𝙍𝙚𝙢𝙪𝙨 𝙇𝙪𝙥𝙞𝙣

10 ☆ 𝘿𝙧𝙮 𝙃𝙪𝙢𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙍𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙚𝙡 𝘽𝙖𝙧𝙗𝙖

11 ☆ 𝘽𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙟𝙤𝙗: 𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙘𝙪𝙨 𝙑𝙤𝙡𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙞

12 ☆ 𝘾𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙖𝙧/𝙇𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙝: 𝙇𝙪𝙘𝙞𝙪𝙨 𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙛𝙤𝙮

13 ☆ 𝘼𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩 𝙖 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙡: 𝙅𝙖𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙑𝙤𝙤𝙧𝙝𝙚𝙚𝙨

14 ☆ 𝙑𝙞𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧: 𝘾𝙤𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙧 𝙃𝙤𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙙 (𝙎𝙚𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚)

⭑ 𝙋𝙧𝙚-𝙒𝙖𝙧

⭑ 𝙋𝙤𝙨𝙩-𝙒𝙖𝙧

15 ☆ 𝙏𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙚: 𝘾𝙖𝙞𝙪𝙨 𝙑𝙤𝙡𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙞

16 ☆ 𝙋𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙤: 𝙃𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙋𝙖𝙡𝙢𝙚𝙧

17 ☆ 𝙉𝙪𝙙𝙚𝙨: 𝙇𝙚𝙚 𝙍𝙪𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙡

18 ☆ 𝘿𝙚𝙨𝙠: 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙙 & 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙡𝙚𝙮 (𝙎𝙚𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚)

⭑ 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙙

⭑ 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙡𝙚𝙮

19 ☆ 𝘾𝙪𝙢 𝙋𝙡𝙖𝙮: 𝙏𝙤𝙣𝙮 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙠

20 ☆ 𝙂𝙡𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙃𝙤𝙡𝙚: 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙪𝙧 𝙈𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙣

21 ☆ 𝙋𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙚: 𝙃𝙚𝙞𝙢𝙙𝙖𝙡𝙡

22 ☆ 𝘽𝙖𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙮: 𝙆𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙨 𝙈𝙞𝙠𝙖𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙤𝙣

23 ☆ 𝘿𝙧𝙮 𝙃𝙪𝙢𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝘼𝙡𝙛𝙞𝙚 𝙎𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙨

24 ☆ 𝙇𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣: 𝙀𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧/𝙀𝙣𝙟𝙞 𝙏𝙤𝙙𝙤𝙧𝙤𝙠𝙞

25 ☆ 𝙍𝙪𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙊𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙨𝙢: 𝙑𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙍𝙚𝙣𝙯𝙞

26 ☆ 𝘽𝙚𝙜𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙂𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙩/𝙎𝙞𝙢𝙤𝙣 𝙍𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙮

27 ☆ 𝙌𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩: 𝙅𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧 𝙀𝙨𝙘𝙪𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙖

28 ☆ 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙥 𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢: 𝘿𝙖𝙧𝙮𝙡 𝘿𝙞𝙭𝙤𝙣

29 ☆ 𝙇𝙖𝙥 𝘿𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚: 𝙃𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝘼𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣

30 ☆ 𝙎𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙛𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙤𝙧 𝙃𝙪𝙡𝙠

31 ☆ 𝙐𝙣𝙞𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢: 𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝙋𝙖𝙥𝙖 𝙀𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙪𝙨 (𝙎𝙚𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚)

⭑ 𝙋𝙧𝙞𝙢𝙤

⭑ 𝙎𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙤

⭑ 𝙏𝙚𝙧𝙯𝙤

⭑ 𝘾𝙤𝙥𝙞𝙖

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

Fanfiction is protected under copyright law when plagiarism is involved. If you plagiarize my work, either a piece or whole in any language, I will take legal action. Inspiration or the same idea does NOT apply to this, only word-for-word plagiarism in any language.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI, or reposted on any other platform without permission.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does give consent to "reblog," sharing links to direct work, and being in recommend lists.

[at1r1-p4rk3r]

Peter; at school and just got in trouble: I swear I'm innocent!

Principal; not amused: That's it. Your aunt passed? I'm calling your parents.

Peter: Haha, good luck with that!

Principal: What?

Peter: My parents are DEAD! *unhinged laughter*

Principal: but I have their phone numbers....

[writing-mlm]

Teasing

tags: use of good boy and cumslut, mean!dom, kind of dumbification (i’m not too sure on that but yeah), porn what plot

You knew exactly how you ended up there, writhing in pleasure as his hips snapped against yours. The brutal pace is torturous on its own, your back arched and your voice lost in your throat. But you think— no, you know he likes the fact that you’re breathless beneath him. Unable to make a noise aside from a strangled string of moans.

You’d been taunting him for days, maybe weeks if he had an opinion on this. You’d been away, visiting friends, and god, he thinks back to the messages and the calls he’d gotten since you left your apartment, and his pace quickens. The pictures, the videos, the voice messages— all of it. And yet, when you returned home you pretended to be innocent, not knowing what he was talking about and why he’d been so hard the second you stepped into the door. 

Now look at you, crumbling under his touch and so blissed out you can’t say a single word. 

“Hey, hey—“ He snaps his fingers as he continues his thrusts, forcing your bleary eyes on him. “You said you could take it, baby.” Aimlessly, you nod, trying to find a reprise on the bed frame as he chuckles above you. He slows a bit, rolling his hips into you in a way that makes you strangle out a louder moan. He huffs out a pant, closing his eyes for a second before grabbing your face with a tight grip. He forces your eyes on him, his dick twitching inside of you at the sight in front of him. 

“Can’t you take it?” He taunts, listening to your broken mess of a yes before he clicks his tongue. In one motion, he flips you over and presses a hand to the middle of your back, forcing an arch. You tuck your head down, allowing yourself to breathe. 

“Use your big boy words, baby. Okay, now say you’re my cumslut.” He goes back to his harsh pacing, his free hand fisting the headboard. 

“Go on,” He taunts before he leans down and coos in your ear when you can’t. “All that big talk for what?”

[literaryavenger]

Obsessed

Summary: Your crush on Bucky may be getting out of control.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Warnings: Dramatic Reader. Language. Angst. Fluff. My poor attempts at being Funny.

Word Count: 1.4K I'm physically incapable of making anything short.

A/N: I wrote this in like 2 hours and I don't even know what this is, just... Yeah.

Masterlist

This is terrible.

This is the worst thing that's ever happened to you.

This is the worst thing that's ever happened to anyone. It's just the most horrible, dreadful, awful thing that could’ve ever happen to yo-

“Would you stop staring at him for fuck's sakes!” Natasha's hissed words make your eyes snap to her and finally away from the metal armed Supersoldier lifting weights. Shirtless.

You don't know when Bucky stopped feeling self-conscious enough to allow him to workout in nothing but a pair of gym shorts, but it has become literal torture for you.

Needless to say, Bucky's current level of undress is making it impossible for you to concentrate on the stretching you're supposed to be doing before your sparring match with Natasha.

But your very thoughtful and not at all exasperated friend makes sure to keep your attention on her during the entirety of our match by thoroughly kicking your ass.

What a lovely best friend you have.

Anyways.

Your entire mood shifts with one not intentionally overheard conversation. Steve enters the gym and goes straight to Bucky, who was putting his weight set down.

“She’s here!” Is all the blonde says to his friend and your heart stops at the way Bucky’s face lights up with a smile, not needing any more information before following Steve out of the gym.

She’s here? Who the fuck is she? Does Bucky have a girlfriend? And most importantly, she’s here? In the Compound?

Natasha can almost see the gears turning in your brain as you make no attempts to move from the mat after she knocked you on your ass for the hundredth time today. You didn’t even seem to notice her hand offering you help to get up, your eyes still looking where Bucky was just a moment ago, staring at nothing in particular while your brain drowns in your overthinking.

Natasha sighs and decides to end the match here, kneeling down in front of you and placing her hands on your shoulders, shaking you gently to snap you out of it.

“Don’t overthink this.” She tells you when she’s sure she has your attention. “It’s probably just a friend visiting.” She tries to comfort you, but you both know that’s highly unlikely. 

Bucky has no other friends outside the team. He doesn’t know how to talk to civilians anymore after everything he’s been through, and gave up trying to after the hundredth time he saw fear in a person’s eyes just by recognizing him. So his friend circle now includes the team and the agents of SHIELD that are not intimidated by him. Point is, every friend he has already lives in the Compound.

So who the fuck is here just to see him? 

Natasha can see that this is a lost battle, your eyes barely concentrating on her as you start drowning in your mind again. All she can do when you’re like this is try to distract you and keep you out of your head. So she takes your hand and helps you up, leading the way to the common room to watch one of your beloved romcoms together, because that’s how much she loves you.

Big mistake.

“Y/N! Y/N!” The excited high-pitched voice came just seconds after you set foot in the common room. And that’s about the only warning you got before the excited 5-year-old jumped on you, your reflexes thankfully quick enough to catch her.

“Hi, Maguna!” You say while chuckling as the little girl hugs you. “You seem excited today. Did you get into the sugar cabinet again?”

Morgan giggles at your joke and shakes her hand before taking your face in her little hands and dramatically saying, “No! A princess came to visit uncle Bucky! A real princess.”

You frown, confused at what she’s talking about, before you look around the room and finally notice everyone else in it. Pepper and Tony are on the couch, looking at you lovingly as you interact with their daughter.

You love Morgan, she’s like a little sister. You never miss an opportunity to babysit her and you spend as much time with her as you can. She also loves you, out of all the Avengers you’re her favorite, much to everyone’s dismay. She calls them all ‘aunt’ and ‘uncle’, but you’re just Y/N. You’re her big sister, you don’t need a title. Which is why you're the only one other than Tony allowed to call her 'Maguna'.

Then you notice the other people in the room: Steve, Bucky and… Shuri. The fucking Princess of Wakanda, standing in the common room of the Avengers Compound and just smiling at you as you carry Morgan.

You’ve never met Shuri, but you know she played an important part in deprogramming the Winter Soldier out of Bucky, and you’re grateful to her for it. She’s important to Bucky, and you can’t believe you forgot Bucky has Wakandan friends.

You put Morgan down on the ground again and the little girl takes your hand and aggressively steers you towards where Steve, Bucky and Shuri are standing, clearly thrilled to be in the presence of a real life princess.

“Hi, I’m Shuri.” She offers you her hand when you get close enough and you shake it with your free hand while introducing yourself.

There’s a bit of an awkward pause and you’re about to say the first thing that pops into your head when Morgan thankfully saves you by pulling on your hand, making you look at her. She tells you to come close and, chuckling, you kneel beside her so she can whisper conspiratorially in your ear.

“She’s a princess and she’s really pretty, but I still like you better.” She whispers and you can’t help but laugh.

God, you love this little girl.

You smile brightly at her and launch a tickle attack, her adorable giggles filling the room as everyone looks at you two with warm smiles.

Your attention is solely on Morgan, until you unintentionally hear the whispered conversation between Shuri and Bucky.

“So, this is the girl, huh? She’s pretty.” Shuri says and your heart skips a beat. 

You glance at them as discreetly as you can while still tickling Morgan, only to find Bucky looking at someone behind you. You turn around less carefully and see Sharon just entered the room, and she's also looking at Bucky with a smirk. You quickly return your attention to Morgan, but your mind is going a thousand miles a minute.

Of course he’d like someone more like Sharon. She’s pretty, she’s talented, she’s a total badass and she’s not afraid to go after what she wants.

She’s not a mass of anxiety in the shape of a woman that overthinks everything and becomes a flustered mess every time she’s even near Bucky.

It’s time to admit it to yourself: Bucky just doesn’t see you like that and you need to move on. 

Natasha is right, your obsession with Bucky needs to end.

What you don’t see is Bucky almost glaring at Sharon because he knows damn well why she’s smirking. She came in just before Shuri whispered to Bucky, when he was very intent on looking at you with heart eyes as you played with Morgan.

Just before you looked at him, Bucky noticed Sharon and he had to hold in a groan at her because he knows that she’s never gonna let him live this down.

Both Sharon and Steve have tried really hard to convince Bucky that you like him back and he should make a move on you. But Bucky, being as stubborn as they come, never believes them.

He obviously makes you uncomfortable, you’re always stuttering when he’s around and you avoid eye contact whenever possible. He’s just glad that you can stand his presence enough for the two of you to work together when necessary and to hang out with the rest of the team without problems.

So he just enjoys looking at you from a distance. He loves watching you play with Morgan and his thoughts always run wild with images of you playing like that with kids that are yours and his.

But he knows that’s never going to happen. Why would you like a damaged, PTSD ridden soldier that can’t even make it through the night without waking up from a nightmare? No, that’s definitely not your type.

Bucky accepts the truth: He doesn’t deserve you and you don’t see him like that anyways. 

It doesn’t matter that Sam thinks he’s obsessed, that won’t stop him from looking at you whenever he’s lucky enough to get a glimpse of his little ray of sunshine.

Requested taglist: @vicmc624 @matchat3a @nerd-without-a-cause @sapphirebarnes @cjand10 @mostlymarvelgirl @julvrs @blackhawkfanatic @lillianacristina @armystay89 @imdoingbetternow @spookyparadisesheep @elizalexwil @aceofhearts25 @dontworryboutitsweetheartxx-blog @justab-eautifulmess @buggy14 @thedonswife13

[incorrect-marvel-because-why-not]

Morgan: Mommy, if my dolly's cold, can I put her in the toaster oven? Pepper: No, honey. That would be a mistake. Morgan: Mommy? Pepper: Yes? Morgan: I made a mistake. Pepper: [runs over to toaster oven and pulls out doll] Tony, didn't you smell that? Tony: Yeah, I just thought we were having plastic for dinner.

[ironspidersblog]

Marvel fix it where Tony lives and Peter isn’t forgotten and this is them playing with morgan

[ir0npvrker]

morgan: *finds a stray cat*

morgan: can we keep it?

pepper: your dad is allergic

morgan:

morgan: dad can stay outside

[gunsandspaceships]

Billionaire Tony…

Doesn’t have:

A chef

A nanny

A maid

Despises bodyguards

And drives his chauffeur himself

[duocatt]

Couple days late but happy bday to my favorite iron guy! ❤️💛

[salv12dexter]

Y'all literally write fanfics like you're men. How is it that in your own fantasy world, you're not getting pleasure from it? With every reader x character, it's you pleasuring the character. Women write fanfics like how men view porn.

You're so feminist that even in your own fantasies, you think that you are ugly and that this character would never want you. So unless they're degrading, using, and beating you. That's the only true way you think that they could ever desire you.

I'm not even going to get started on the of-age-reader x underage characters because if I need to tell you why that's wrong, you need to be put on a watch list.

[cece693]

He's Cute

pairing: bucky barnes x male reader tags: you're Loki's brother, but actually nice and come in peace, bucky finds you adorable, humor, asking out a prince from another planet is hard, just ask bucky, part 2 can be done

Tony tapped his fingers on the conference table, wearing his best ‘well, here we go again’ scowl. In front of him, the Avengers were assembled, all shooting wary glances at Thor. “So,” Tony drawled, making sure to emphasize his skepticism, “we’re hosting another Asgardian prince. Is your father just collecting them at this point?”

Thor, doing his best not to look offended, cleared his throat. “I know you hold distrust after what Loki did, but (Y/N) is our younger brother. He’s quite the opposite from Loki.”

Clint quirked a brow, exchanging a glance with Sam. “‘Opposite’ how? Less shape-shifting and more interpretive dance, or…?”

Sam snorted. “I’d pay to see that, actually.”

Thor, for his part, stood straight-backed, looking earnest—and maybe just a little bit offended. “I assure you, (Y/N) is not here to conquer anything,” he reiterated. “My brother is gentle. He's nothing like our brother Loki."

Tony drummed his fingers on the table one more time. “Yeah, we’ll see. Might I suggest we have a ‘No Asgardian Shenanigans’ sign at the front door? We can hang it right under the ‘No Solicitors’ sign.”

“That might be a tad welcoming, don’t you think?” Clint drawled, lips curling in a wry grin.

Sam chuckled. “No illusions allowed, no staff-wielding illusions, no illusions about illusions.”

Bucky glanced around. They were all bantering, but he could sense the undercurrent of nervous energy. Finally, Steve caught his eye and nodded, inviting him to speak up if he wanted. But Bucky just gave a small shrug—he didn’t really have an opinion yet, beyond thinking that maybe it would be nice to have another level-headed god around. He’d heard Loki was a piece of work, but Thor—despite his bombast—had proven a decent ally.

“Well, guess we’ll know soon enough,” Nat said, pulling everyone’s attention back to her. She tapped her phone, checking the time. “Thor? When’s your supposed to show up?”

Thor’s chest swelled with pride, as though merely announcing your name was akin to proclaiming victory over the Nine Realms. “He will arrive today—shortly, in fact. Heimdall has secured him safe passage. I ask for your patience, my friends. He is not…accustomed to Earth.”

“Oh, this ought to be fun,” Tony said, pushing back from the table. “Alright. Everyone, let’s roll out the welcome mat. And by ‘welcome mat,’ I obviously mean ‘a healthy dose of skepticism laced with potential backup plans A through Z.’ Clint, let’s find a vantage point—”

“Tony,” Steve interrupted, sounding exasperated. “He’s Thor’s brother, not a Hydra spy.”

Tony shrugged. “Better safe than sorry. Or have we collectively forgotten the Chitauri fiasco?”

Thor let out a deep, put-upon sigh, and Bucky caught the flicker of guilt in the god’s eyes. Clearly, Thor was sensitive about all that had happened with Loki. Which in turn made Bucky feel a little guilty for automatically being wary.

About an hour later, the Avengers had dispersed, though most lingered in the main atrium of the Compound. Bucky hung back near a wall, arms folded, scanning his surroundings with a soldier’s vigilance. He had no idea what to expect. A second Loki? Another six-foot-something, muscle-bound, hammer-wielding Asgardian?

The air crackled with energy, and suddenly, a swirl of rainbow light appeared at the center of the room—a mini Bifrost. Out of it stepped you.

Your entrance was about as dramatic as one could expect from a swirling cosmic rainbow, but you looked anything but menacing. Clad in simple Asgardian attire (far less extravagant than Thor’s usual gear), you blinked, adjusting to the Earthly surroundings and then you bowed—actually bowed—deeply and respectfully.

“Good day,” you greeted softly, your voice gentler than any of them expected. “I am (Y/N) of Asgard. It's an honor to meet the team that has accepted my brother Thor with open arms. I know you might be wary of me with all that has transpired with Loki, but know that I deeply apologize for any problems he...” You paused, searching for a polite way to phrase it, eventually settling with, “…might have caused.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “‘Might have caused?’ Yeah, that’s one way to put an alien invasion.” He exchanged a look with Clint, who shrugged.

“(Y/N) is different,” Thor explained, laying a large hand on your shoulder with a brotherly sort of pride. “He will not attempt subterfuge or illusions.”

Bucky, observing quietly from his corner, noticed how you half-cringed at the mention of illusions, as if even the word brought you guilt by association. You glanced around at the assembled heroes: Tony with his pointed skepticism, Nat’s arms folded in careful assessment, Steve’s polite-but-guarded kindness. Even Sam gave you a sidelong look that said he wasn’t entirely sure he believed in second Asgardian princes yet. Only Thor, unwavering in his faith, and Bruce, gently curious, seemed at ease.

Clearing your throat, you continued, “I truly want to learn of your customs and help in any way I can.” Your voice quieted further. “I understand if my presence here makes you uncomfortable. You have already faced so much.”

Natasha eyed you, the corners of her mouth lifting in the faintest of smiles. “Well, you’re certainly more polite than your brothers,” she said, glancing at Thor pointedly.

“That’s not difficult,” Clint muttered, earning a huff from Thor.

Bucky only half-listened to the exchange; he was more focused on the shy curve of your posture—how you carried yourself with a subtle humility that was so unlike Thor’s boisterous confidence or Loki’s cunning. He realized then he was staring, so he forced himself to look away, crossing his arms over his chest to maintain some semblance of aloofness.

Steve, ever the one to break awkward silences, stepped forward to shake your hand. “We appreciate your honesty, (Y/N). I’m Steve Rogers. I promise no one here means you harm,” he said in a reassuring tone.

You took his hand carefully, as if unaccustomed to the formality. “Nice to meet you, Captain Rogers.” A flicker of surprise crossed your face as you felt the firmness of his handshake. “Your grip could rival Thor’s,” you murmured, almost impressed. Thor puffed up, beaming that you’d complimented one of his comrades.

Sam spoke up next, his voice colored with curiosity. “So, no illusions, no plans of world domination…I’m guessing you’re the ‘normal’ one in the family?”

You seemed flustered, but your lips quirked in an embarrassed smile. “I—I wouldn’t quite say that. But I have always strived for peace.”

Tony waved a hand. “Alright, Peace Prince, welcome aboard. We’ll see how it goes. Just don’t conjure up any giant space whales or open any more cosmic portals in the middle of Manhattan, deal?”

Thor looked positively mortified that Tony would even imply such a thing, but you only nodded politely. “Yes, sir. No space whales. I can assure you of that.”

At the “sir,” Tony’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, I like you. Please continue to address me as ‘sir’ in front of the others.”

Nat rolled her eyes. “You’re incorrigible.”

Thor cleared his throat, trying to steer the conversation back to calmer waters. “(Y/N) will be staying with us for a time—learning Earth’s ways. Please, treat him as you would me.”

“So we haze him with endless pop culture references and toss him in the deep end?” Sam joked.

Bucky saw you swallow hard, and something about your shy, uncertain expression tugged at his chest. Without meaning to, he spoke up for the first time in the meeting. “I’ll help,” he said bluntly.

Everyone turned to look at him, surprise etched on their faces—especially Steve, who arched an eyebrow as if to say, Didn’t know you were volunteering, pal. You brightened, relief shining in your eyes. “That is very kind of you. Thank you, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Just…Bucky,” he mumbled, cheeks warming the tiniest bit.

Natasha’s keen eyes flickered between the two of you, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “Great,” she said lightly. “Now that we’re all introduced, who wants lunch?”

Over the next few days, you integrated yourself into Avengers life with unexpected ease. You asked Tony endless questions about Earth technology, took great care to help Bruce reorganize his lab (after you discovered you had a knack for meticulously alphabetizing everything from chemicals to coffee mugs), and politely sparred with Natasha, who grudgingly admitted you were surprisingly tough yet considerate.

Meanwhile, Bucky quietly observed you. He watched you cheerfully fix up the lounge furniture after Thor accidentally broke a coffee table. He saw you carefully water the potted plants in the hallway, eager to ensure none of Earth’s “fragile vegetation” withered on your watch. Little by little, Bucky found himself drawn to your presence—drawn to your soft laughter, your bright curiosity.

But one thing stood out above all else: you never once bragged about your title. You never boasted about your Asgardian heritage or demanded special treatment. You even seemed embarrassed whenever anyone called you ‘Prince (Y/N).’ Instead, you were humble—sometimes painfully so. And that humility, combined with that sweet, open-minded wonder, made Bucky’s heart do somersaults he hadn’t felt in years.

Bucky sat in the compound’s lounge one afternoon, pretending to read a newspaper while sneaking glances your way. You were studying a half-eaten bag of potato chips like they were the eighth wonder of the world.

“Steve,” Bucky murmured, beckoning his friend closer.

Steve, doing his best to hide an amused smile, leaned in. “What’s up?”

Bucky tilted the newspaper so Steve could see you turning the potato-chip bag upside down, letting crumbs tumble out onto your hand. “He’s cute,” Bucky muttered under his breath, so quietly it nearly dissolved into air.

“…Should I act surprised? It was obvious from the moment you volunteered to show him around the tower,” Steve finished, his voice just as low. He flicked his gaze from Bucky to you and back again, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Bucky rolled his eyes but couldn’t quite hide the hint of pink that dusted his cheeks. “I’m trying to be subtle, all right?”

Steve snorted. “That’s rich coming from the guy who’s sneaking glances every ten seconds.”

Bucky’s gaze drifted again to you—now tapping the bottom of the potato chip bag in an effort to extract the last crumb. The entire display was so earnestly adorable that Bucky had to bite back a smile. “Look,” Bucky sighed, voice dropping lower, “he’s Thor’s brother. A prince. And I’m—well—” He gestured vaguely at himself, as if that summed up a lifetime’s worth of complications. “You really think he’d be interested?”

“Yes,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I do.”

Bucky opened his mouth to protest—he’s just curious about Earth, he’s friendly to everyone, it doesn’t mean anything—but then, as if on cue, you turned around in your seat. The instant your eyes met Bucky’s, your face lit with delight. You waved at him so earnestly that you almost spilled the bag of chips.

Bucky swallowed. “Fine,” he muttered, giving Steve a pointed look. “Maybe there’s a small chance.”

Steve suppressed a laugh, nudging Bucky forward. “Then go talk to him. Ask about chips, or Earth cuisine, or literally anything. Just say something.”

Bucky tried to summon that stoic confidence that sometimes worked for him. Instead, he felt like a high school kid with a crush. “Right,” he mumbled. “Be casual. Real casual.”

He stood up, discreetly adjusting his jacket, and made his way over to you. You greeted him with a bright smile—still holding that bag of chips as if you’d discovered gold. “Hello, Bucky!” you said. “I didn’t realize such simple food could taste so addictive.”

Bucky felt his heart do a little flip at the sound of his name on your lips. “Yeah, uh…chips,” he replied brilliantly, jamming his hand in his pocket in a desperate attempt to appear nonchalant. “They’re a big deal around here. We’ve got, uh…like, 70 flavors, I think.”

Your eyes widened. “Seventy?!”

“Maybe more,” Bucky corrected himself. He cleared his throat. “So, you like them?”

“Very much. I fear I might become dependent,” you admitted, glancing a little sheepishly at the half-empty bag. “But enough about me—how’s your day? I noticed you’ve been reading that newspaper for a while.”

Bucky cringed internally. Busted. “Oh, yeah—lots of…uh…interesting articles,” he fibbed, holding up the folded paper. He glanced at the front page, realized it was yesterday’s news, and hastily lowered it again. “Anyway, I was thinking, maybe we could…you know, get out for a while? Go, uh…check out a café nearby.”

Your brow furrowed, confusion creeping across your features. “But the Compound has a coffee machine. It’s in the kitchen, right? I can fetch you coffee, if you like.”

“No, no,” Bucky corrected, trying to keep his composure. “I mean, we could go out. Just you and me. Kind of an…outing.” He struggled with the word date, but it hovered there, unsaid.

Your eyes went wide, as though another revelation had dawned upon you. “Oh! You need supplies? Are we on a mission?”

“No, not a mission,” Bucky explained, scratching the back of his neck. “Just hanging out. Relaxing. Maybe having a nice conversation—away from everyone else.”

You nodded, albeit slowly. “A private conversation…in a place that also serves coffee?”

“Right,” Bucky confirmed, trying not to seem too relieved. “It’s…well, on Earth, we call that a ‘date.’”

He finally said it—date. His palms were sweaty, but he held your gaze, waiting.

“Oh!” you exclaimed, brows shooting up. “I’ve read about dates in one of the Midgardian relationship guidebooks. Something about courting rituals and paying for each other’s drinks to demonstrate affection?”

Bucky’s cheeks felt warmer by the second. “Yeah, that’s…that’s the general idea. You interested?”

“Yes!” you said, then paused, a flicker of doubt crossing your features. “But do we need to bring my father into this? Thor mentioned father-gifts or is that just for official betrothals? I don’t want to be rude.”

Off to the side, half-hidden in the hallway, Steve pinched the bridge of his nose to stifle a laugh. Bucky shot him a quick glare—thanks for the backup, pal. Chuckling nervously, Bucky shook his head. “No father-gifts required. On Earth, it’s usually just between, well…the two people going on the date.”

Your shoulders visibly relaxed. “Ah, excellent. That simplifies things. I wouldn’t know what to buy your father anyway—does he prefer golden chalices or—?”

“No, no,” Bucky interjected quickly, biting his lip to keep from outright laughing. “Seriously, no father involvement. We just go, maybe sit down, order coffee, talk.”

You seemed to take a moment to let that sink in. Then, you grinned wide. “That sounds delightful. When do we depart for this coffee date?”

“How about tomorrow morning? Around ten?” Bucky offered.

You placed a hand over your heart, nodding firmly. “Ten in the morning. I will be ready. Should I wear armor, or is that too formal?”

Bucky glanced at Steve again, who was now silently cracking up. He smothered a grin, turning back to you. “Casual clothes are fine. Maybe just…I dunno…a shirt and jeans, if you have them?”

“Ah, yes! The mortal garb. I’ll do my best not to clash patterns.” You tapped your chin thoughtfully. “Though everything on Earth seems to clash with my Asgardian boots.”

Bucky let out a soft laugh, feeling tension he didn’t realize he’d been holding in slip away. “You’ll be fine, trust me.”

Moments later, you excused yourself to research casual Earth attire, leaving Bucky standing in the lounge with a strangely giddy feeling in his chest. That’s when Steve sauntered in, arms folded, his smile practically ear-to-ear. “You see?” Steve teased. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t quite hide his grin. “I almost had to explain father-gifts, so maybe a little complicated.”

Steve chuckled. “Looked like you handled it just fine. And if you need a quick escape route tomorrow, you know I’ve got your back.”

Bucky gave him a playful shove. “Thanks, punk.”

Steve shrugged, still grinning. “Anytime, jerk.”

[anyaharveyii]

almost all the dishes in the Stark family house are the same. the plates, cups, and silverware are from the same (ridiculously overpriced) brand.

there are a few exceptions, of course. there's the old china tea set from one of Pepper's relatives, and there's old sippy cups and plastic dishes that Morgan doesn't use anymore (she's a big girl now).

but the one that Morgan is really curious about is her dad's mug.

it's a weird looking thing, in her opinion. it could be mistaken for any simple white mug, if not for a few details. the edges are chipped and rougher than the rest of the mug, there's a strange pattern of dots painted around the rim, and one side reads "HAPPY FATHER'S DAY to the WORLD'S #1 DAD".

Morgan's dad loves the mug, she suspects. it's the only cup he uses to drink anything.

and, being the curious kid that she is, she wants to know what's so special about it. she waits one day until her dad is gone and her mom is on an important call to climb onto the counter and pluck it carefully from the drying rack.

upon closer inspection, she realizes that the little dots look like spiders. and at the bottom on the inside, there’s tiny lettering that spells: "To Tony, from Peter."

that night, while her dad's tucking her into bed and asking her which story she wants him to tell tonight, she builds up her courage and asks him, "do you have any stories about Peter?"

she will remember the look on his face for years to come.

of course, after asking her where she learned that name from, he agrees. he tells her about the genius named Peter Parker and his scientific adventures and discoveries. and the next night, after she asks for another Peter Parker story, it becomes a habit.

eventually, "the adventures of Peter Parker" becomes her second favorite bedtime story request.

(second only to "the adventures of Spider-Man", of course).

[nevergraciee]

yes actually i do need a fic with tony being peters bio dad and signing away parental rights before reconnecting with him later in life, and then peter sees tony willingly raise morgan and wonders why she was good enough and not him

[erinwantstowrite]

the thing about Irondad is that i can make reality whatever i want and what i want is Tony being a cringe failure when it comes to the parenting side of things and Peter simultaneously being like "yeah he is a fucking loser" and "he's super smart though and learning from him has been awesome" and "but if he would be my dad that'd be cool." like Peter is an unreliable and a biased narrator at the same time so he thinks Tony is cool but in my eyes I know what he is. Tony is actually like "i would die for this kid" but having an emotional conversation feels like he's been asked to drag his bare ass across hot coals. he doesn't even know where to begin to accomplish that task. which is why Peter says things like "oh he doesn't say a lot of things to me about how he feels but i can read between the lines" and in his mind Tony says things that mean another thing but never are *quite* that thing. usually jokes that talk about what he means without having to say it or be vulnerable. in his POV he's freaking out that Peter is missing to the point of being physically ill about it, yet Peter couldn't imagine it's that bad or because losing *him* is the cause of that problem. that's how Irondad really is, and i can make it better because canon is my bitch now