Have read a few of these and thought I would give this kind of story a try. The idea isn't mine and neither are the characters. I hope you enjoy the story. It is mainly going to be fluff between the Avengers and (y/n). I am open to ideas on what they should do, or improvements. Please tell me how i did on keeping the characters personalities the same. I find Tony nearly impossible. Enjoy!

(Y/n)=Your Name

(Y/L)=Your Last Name

(Y/A)=Your Age

(F/C)=Favorite Color

(W/P)=Work Place

(H/C)=Hair Color

(E/C)=Eye Color

You walked up the stairs to your apartment. It was Friday, and you were quite ready for the frozen pizza that you had bought earlier in the week for supper and a movie night. But as you walked up to your apartment you heard noise coming from behind your closed door. Quite confused because you lived there alone, you unlocked your door and stepped in.

As soon as you stepped in though, chaos descended. You turned not sure where to start. To the left, a little boy was sitting on one of the chairs crying and clutching one of his arms which happened to be silver and looked like it was made of metal. Standing by the chair was another little boy who was apparently trying to comfort him. Not able to stop yourself, you walked over to the little, brown haired boy.

"What's wrong?" you asked crouching down to his level.

"My-my-my arm," he stuttered. He sounded exactly like Bucky from the Avengers movie!

"What's wrong with your arm?" You asked knowing full well what could be wrong with his arm but not wanting to freak him out by knowing.

"It-it's metal! But I can still move it!" He cried, sounding more scared than upset.

"But it doesn't hurt?" You asked wanting to be sure.

"No."

"At least that's good," you said, picking him up. "What's your name?" you asked the blonde haired boy standing beside you quietly.

"Steve Rogers, ma'am," he said smiling at you.

"I'm (y/n)," You introduced, starting to walk toward your kitchen.

"Thank you for helping Bucky," Steve said shyly.

"I'm glad to help," You said smiling at his politeness.

But your smile quickly disappeared as you saw what was going on in the kitchen. Some of this kids had apparently found your kitchen utensils because a little black-haired boy and a little red-haired girl were having a sword fight with your steak knives. Another little boy was standing off to the side.

"I'm gonna need to put you down for a minute, okay?" you told Bucky, not wanting him to cry because you put him down.

"Okay," Bucky agreed, then moved over to the corner of the kitchen to watch, Steve standing beside him.

"Uh-oh!" Said a different voice that didn't belong to any of them. You looked around confused for a moment. Then you found the owner of the voice sitting on the edge of your fridge, watching the whole fight from above.

"Get down from there," you told the kid on top of your fridge, no doubt Clint. "Can you give me those," you said, walking over to the two kids having the 'sword fight'. They both turned to you surprised. The little girl timidly handed over her knife. The boy, however, held onto the knife.

"Brother, give her your sword!" Said the little blond haired boy who had been watching the fight.

"But we were in the middle of a fight!" he protested.

"Tell you what," you bargained. "If you're good, then I might let you continue your fight later." Just maybe with something less lethal this time, you added mentally.

"Okay," he agreed, reluctantly handing over his knife. You then turned to the boy on top of the fridge, waiting for some explanation as to why he was still on top of the fridge.

"I can't get down," he muttered, embarrassed. The other two boys giggled at his situation, while the girl looked concerned. You smiled slightly and carefully helped him down from the fridge before continuing on to the living room where the rest of the noise was coming from. The rest of the kids trailing behind you.

Thankfully the living room wasn't quite as chaotic. The TV was playing Mickey Mouse with a little boy a few months old sitting on the floor in front of it. And sprawled out across your couch was a teenager, with a striking resemblance to Tony Stark. That and he was logged onto your computer, and typing away at something. He looked up from your computer when he heard the kids enter, sitting up fully when he saw that you accompanied them.

"Ummmm…" you started, at this point not even sure what to say. The rest of the kids walked around you and found different pieces of furniture on which to watch the TV.

"This is your apartment?" Tony Stark look alike asked.

"Yeah," you responded. "Can you explain what happened?"

"Sure. We all randomly appeared in your apartment around 1:00 PM, and have been here ever since. I turned on the TV for the kids and thought I would log onto the computer to look for places to stay."

"You do realize that two of them were sword fighting with knives?" you asked, wondering just how in tune he was to what they were doing.

"Yeah, I told Clint and Thor to go and watch them and make sure they don't hurt themselves," he responded waving his hand. "If you can let me borrow a little money we could be out of here soon."

"What?!" You asked stunned at the thought of leaving a teenager in charge of all the kids.

"We're leaving?" asked Steve sadly, who was sitting beside Tony.

"Why? I like it here!" the black-haired boy commented from where he was on your leather chair beside his brother.

"I don't want to be too much trouble. That and you have a job and a two room apartment, you probably don't have room for us," he said emotionlessly. You could tell that he was panicking though.

"What are you talking about?" you repeated. By now you and Tony look alike held the rest of the kids attention. You got what he was saying, but why did he assume that you didn't have room for them or didn't want them here? You thought of poor Bucky crying because he didn't know what to do about his metal arm. You thought of Clint on top of the fridge not able to get down. And who you assumed to be Loki and Natasha fighting with knives. What if they accidentally hurt themselves?

"If you lend me some money, then I can get this apartment and get out of here as soon as possible," he repeated.

"Why don't you stay here?" you asked carefully.

"Because...wait what?" Tony backtracked. You smiled slightly as he stared at you stunned.

"Why don't you guys stay here with me? I have Saturday and Sunday off from my job, and we can figure out all the details during then."

"We can stay?!" All the kids were looking at you anxiously, even the toddler on the floor.

"Of course!" you exclaimed. The kids burst out cheering and yelling, jumping around in joy.

"Thank you!" Tony said grinning.