“You’re taking me where?” You blink at Steve, still mid-bite of your cinnamon roll, suspicious of the casual way he dropped the bomb between sips of black coffee.

Steve doesn't look up from the newspaper. "Avengers Tower."

You lower your pastry. “Wait… like, with the Avengers? All of them? In the same building at the same time?”

Now he looks up. Slowly. “Yeah. My place. Tomorrow.”

Panic sets in. The kind that makes your stomach forget it was excited about food just five seconds ago. “I mean, what if they don’t like me?”

Steve raises an eyebrow, folding the paper in half with an amused flick. “So, you’re worried… not because you’ll be in a high-security skyscraper surrounded by enhanced individuals and billion-dollar alien tech—but because you think they won’t approve of you?”

“Yes!” you say, a little louder than you meant to. “That’s exactly what I’m saying, Steve. I mean—this is your family. What if they think I’m too… normal? Or not normal enough? What if I say something dumb and Bucky gives me that look? You know the one.”

Steve smiles, the corner of his mouth lifting in that quiet way he does when he’s trying not to laugh at you. “You have nothing to worry about, sweetheart.”

You sigh, burying your face in your hands for dramatic effect. “That’s exactly what someone who’s already been accepted into the elite superhero circle would say.”

He gets up, leans across the kitchen counter, and tugs gently at your wrist until your face is visible again. His blue eyes are soft now, serious. “You’ve already got the only opinion that matters in that Tower wrapped around your little finger.”

Your heart flutters. “Tony?”

He blinks once, deadpan. “Try again.”

You grin. “Ohhh, right. It’s Peter, huh?”

This time, he does laugh—low and rich and far too pleased with you for his own good. “I’m serious, sweetheart. They’re gonna love you. And if they don’t, well…” He shrugs and leans in, brushing his lips against yours. “They’ll just have to deal with it.”

“Are you threatening the Avengers for me?”

“I’m from Brooklyn. That’s a love language.”