In which Bucky comes back, Tony is doomed, and the Avengers want their breakfast.
Tony and Steve adopt a young Peter, and Tony handles being a father with all the grace that can be expected of him.
A bunch of ficlets focusing on Tony and Steve being Peter’s parents, and their attempt and struggle to be more than a superhero (and somewhat dysfunctional) family with all the Avengers around.
The reactions of Tony and Steve upon discovering that their adopted son, Peter Parker, has decided to go into the family business.
Tony and Steve adopt Peter. It’s hard to finda suitable babysitter, even if you’re Tony Stark. (Or especially when you’re Tony Stark.)
Steve and Tony just keep finding new ways to make Peter’s life horribly and painfully awkward.
If he couldn’t get Peter to settle in the bed and go back to sleep he’d get up and walk around the tower to show the boy that everything was okay. If it wasn’t too cold, Tony would go out onto the balcony and point to the various buildings lit up in the distance, making a little game out of it by misidentifying them every now and again just so Peter would correct him. It not only distracted Peter from whatever had scared him to begin with, but also made Peter happy being ‘smarter than Papa’.
In which Peter has another nightmare, Tony blames Clint for everything, and Steve sits back and smiles.
The lights go off and for a brief moment they’re both in darkness. Peter shifts uncomfortably, the darkness too close to a closet that he hid himself in as he heard seven gunshots downstairs at his aunt and uncle’s house. But then the soft blue light inside the night light comes to life and stars light up on Pete’s ceiling and around the walls; a few even fall on the floor.
“Well, how ‘bout that, Peter Pan. You got all the stars right here in your room.”
Prompt: The serum made Steve buff and whatnot, but it never took away his ailments. So he struggles to play the part of Captain America while dealing with asthma and the heart complications and the 343 other things he had. Naturally he would hide the moments his lungs stopped working, or when his heart wouldn’t beat quite right, until one day he’s discovered.
Despite what everyone thought, it had not started as something intentionally related to the codename he’d been given. Rather, it was a function of how he was often stationed in high places for long periods of time - you had to keep hydrated, and well nourished, and have proper clothing for changes in weather. After a certain period, when he had been assigned several long stakeouts in a row, he realized there was no point in climbing down to sleep - especially when he was likely to be roused and expected to be in position if his mark was moving. So he started bringing a sleeping bag with him, and then books and a gameboy and a mini DVD player for when he wasn’t on watch. He knew, before the first agent decided he was going to be clever, that people would consider it a nest.
Self-awareness was more than half the battle. That, and the ability to shoot unsuspecting agents in the ass with an arrow when they began to annoy him.
Clint moves into Avengers Tower, and promptly takes up residence in the air ducts, including the one above Bruce’s lab. It soon becomes clear that this isn’t just a cracky, quirky behavior.
Except I’m not absolutely confident this is what you meant since it’s past-Clint/Coulson, not a fixit, and leads in to Clint/Bruce. So, as always, just shoot me another ask if this isn’t it. There’s more than one nesting fic, after all.
In which Tony mouths off to a witch, catches up on his beauty sleep, and learns that True Love might not be such a crock after all. (His status as a princess, however, is still debatable.)
Once upon a time, in a tale much like the ones you’ve heard before, there was a merchant, named Joseph. The widower had three sons, all with hair of gold.
Both of these are from this post, which is probably why I weirdly showed up in google during your search.
Where it was Nick Fury’s idea, but he didn’t mean it like that.
When Tony Stark was seventeen years old, he built his first AI. On that day, he ceased to be his father’s creation, and became a creating force in his own right.
That one act likely saved his life, and not always in the most obvious ways.
Part of the Tales of the Bots series with a sequel:
Everyone in their life has had a little case of hero worship. A tiny crush on a celebrity. A teenage infatuation.
Dummy Stark-Rogers is not any different.
And the Mars Rover Curiosity is a stunning piece of tech.
I’m pretty sure this is what you mean, but if you were looking for a different fic, just shoot me another ask.
There are four reasons for kidnapping Tony Stark. Tony’s sick of all of them. Well, there’s potentially a fifth, but it’s highly unlikely that Captain America will suddenly fulfill THAT fantasy. Tony’s deeply disappointed about that.
Steve Rogers, as always, is oblivious. At least, that is, until someone who isn’t him kidnaps Tony. Then he’s just pissed.
This is also part of a series: In Which Tony Stark Builds Himself Some Friends (But His Family Was Assigned by Nick Fury)
They’re junkies, prostitutes, students, artists, musicians, drug dealers, waiters. They’re going to live forever or die young, and they intend to enjoy every minute of it.
Light’s gone, day’s end. Struggling to pay rent. Long nights, strange men.
According to the author, the fic’s down temporarily for editing and rewrites and should be up again ‘soon-ish’.
If this isn’t the fic you meant, just shoot me another ask and I’ll try again.
Loki learns that when a man asks permission to paint you, sometimes he means he actually wants to paint you. More literally in some cases than others.
It starts like this.
(High School AU) In which Loki is a liar, Steve is a nice guy, and they find common ground in the form of books.
No one chooses for Loki. He chooses for himself. He chooses his brother, and Midgard, and Steve Rogers.
Five times Loki protects Steve from little things (like going crazy), and one time Steve saves Loki from the biggest threat of all.
On the anniversary of Loki’s birth, a feast is held in Father’s hall. This, he thinks, is as it should be: this is as it is every year, with lively music on the harp, with men and women dancing, with all his favorite foods. Except this year the foods are not the ones he prefers, after all, but those favored by his brother. And the music is not harp music but the blaring of horns. And when Father calls attention to the assembled throng to give a speech for the occasion, he does not mention Loki at all.
He proclaims the meal in honor of Thor’s prowess as a warrior. He announces that the firstborn prince has bested his training instructor this day.
The boar meat, spicy and rich on Loki’s tongue, is suddenly tasteless. He puts his fork down amidst the wave of applause that floods the hall; he watches as his brother, golden and triumphant, stands to accept his congratulations. The child thinks, perhaps, that this is some ruse. His family, too, scold him for his pranks, and perhaps they have decided to show him what it is like to be on the receiving end.
But the jest, if jest it is, grows long.
Some days Steve thought he’d never get used to this new world, so different from the life he’d know what felt like yesterday but was really seventy years ago.