Itty Bitty Feet
Itty Bitty Feet
Itty Bitty Feet
Request for Maria Beilschmidt
The luminescent plus sign glows on the plastic stick on the counter in front of you. The meaning behind it makes you queasier than you already are.
Positive.
You’re pregnant. With Tony Stark’s baby. Before your mind has even fully processed the news, one thought rolls around and around in your head. How am I supposed to tell him?
You sigh and cap the pregnancy test before walking about of the bathroom. You drop the test into your purse, wondering if you can actually tell Tony the news yourself or will have to just show him the test.
You sit on your bed and look up at the ceiling, biting your lip. Just then your phone rings, singing out the chorus of your favorite song. You glance at the screen and, seeing Natasha’s picture lighting up, tap “Answer.”
“Hey, (name),” she greets softly. “Did you take it?”
You and Natasha had become good friends soon after you began dating Tony. She warned you away from him many a time, but you’re stubborn and kept pushing. Natasha began seeing the changes Tony was making to impress you, court you, better himself for you. Natasha wasn’t too keen on love and romance, but she let you in and you became her best friend. And now she was one of your biggest relationship supporters.
“Yeah, Nat… I did…”
“And…?”
Another sigh. “It was positive, Nat.” Your voice breaks, tears threatening to spill from your (e/c) eyes.
“Did you tell him?”
“I just found out. I have no idea how to tell him… What if I lose him?”
“(name), Tony’s changed a lot since he’s been with you. If you had been some one-night-stand and turned out this way, I have no doubt that he’d walk away unless someone pushed him to do the right thing. You’re his woman, (name). He loves you, and you’re that someone that can push him to do the right thing. You won’t lose him.”
“How do I tell him, Nat? I’m in too much shock to just go ‘hey, babe. I’m pregnant.’”
“You’ll think of something. Maybe you can cook him dinner, make his favorite foods to cheer him up and then tell him,” she suggests. “I have to go, hun. Fury’s calling. Focus on how you feel about it and tell Tony when it feels right.”
“Okay… Bye, Nat.”
“Bye, (name).”
The phone beeps as your friend hangs up. You look down at your still-flat belly, running a hand over it. You like the idea of having children, you really do… But what will Tony say? How will he respond?
A week’s passed and you still haven’t figured out how to tell your lover that he’s going to be a father. Every time you swallow the lump in your throat and gather your confidence, someone interrupts or Tony gets distracted, and the moment is lost.
You haven’t told anyone besides Natasha, though you can sense the concern and confusion seeping from the other Avengers whenever your mood swings rear their ugly heads or your obscene cravings come into play.
You sit at the bar that makes up the border between the kitchen and the main entertainment room, nibbling on your peanut butter/maple syrup/sprinkles-coated toast. Bruce expresses concern that your sugary snack would cause diabetes, Clint turns up his nose in a “that looks absolutely disgusting” manner, and Thor grins at the idea, stating that it appeared to be delicious and that he’d love to try it.
Tony then decides to stride into the room and excitedly claim, “Poker night!”
“Sounds fun!” Clint grins, offering the billionaire a thumbs up.
“What is this ‘poker night’?” Thor inquires, pulling his freshly toasted toast from the toaster and preparing to sugar-coat it up as you’ve done with yours.
“Clothes on at all times,” Natasha adds, taking a seat on the couch beside the archer.
“Will there be alcohol involved?” Bruce questions wearily.
“Of course there will be booze!” Tony exclaims, sitting in the recliner in front of the game table and shuffling the cards. He notices your lack of response and turns to look at you. “You in, babe?”
You gulp down the last of your toast before replying, “as long as I don’t drink anything.”
He frowns. “Why not? You always drink with me.”
Your gaze wanders to Natasha, who responds with a reassuring nod. You stand up from your stool and walk over to sit on the arm of Tony’s chair. You rest a hand on your stomach. “I won’t be drinking booze for a while, Tony.”
His brows furrow in confusion as Steve and Bruce’s mouths form an ‘o’ of understanding. Natasha watches Tony for his expression while Clint smirks. Tony’s eyes flick between your worried gaze and the hand resting on your belly a few times before the wheels in his head turn and click together. “Oh!”
You bite your lip in anticipation, completely on the spot as you had not intended on sharing the news with everyone all at once, unless you had told Tony privately first.
“That’s wonderful, babe!” he cries happily, standing up and wrapping his arms around your waist. Your eyes widen in surprise and confusion as he spins your around, hugging you tightly.
“Really?” you confirm, looking up at him, wondering if he’ll run away and change his mind.
He smiles. “Really.”
The other Avengers “aww” as he kisses you passionately, hands cupping your face, your hands resting on his forearms.
Request for Maria Beilschmidt
The luminescent plus sign glows on the plastic stick on the counter in front of you. The meaning behind it makes you queasier than you already are.
Positive.
You’re pregnant. With Tony Stark’s baby. Before your mind has even fully processed the news, one thought rolls around and around in your head. How am I supposed to tell him?
You sigh and cap the pregnancy test before walking about of the bathroom. You drop the test into your purse, wondering if you can actually tell Tony the news yourself or will have to just show him the test.
You sit on your bed and look up at the ceiling, biting your lip. Just then your phone rings, singing out the chorus of your favorite song. You glance at the screen and, seeing Natasha’s picture lighting up, tap “Answer.”
“Hey, (name),” she greets softly. “Did you take it?”
You and Natasha had become good friends soon after you began dating Tony. She warned you away from him many a time, but you’re stubborn and kept pushing. Natasha began seeing the changes Tony was making to impress you, court you, better himself for you. Natasha wasn’t too keen on love and romance, but she let you in and you became her best friend. And now she was one of your biggest relationship supporters.
“Yeah, Nat… I did…”
“And…?”
Another sigh. “It was positive, Nat.” Your voice breaks, tears threatening to spill from your (e/c) eyes.
“Did you tell him?”
“I just found out. I have no idea how to tell him… What if I lose him?”
“(name), Tony’s changed a lot since he’s been with you. If you had been some one-night-stand and turned out this way, I have no doubt that he’d walk away unless someone pushed him to do the right thing. You’re his woman, (name). He loves you, and you’re that someone that can push him to do the right thing. You won’t lose him.”
“How do I tell him, Nat? I’m in too much shock to just go ‘hey, babe. I’m pregnant.’”
“You’ll think of something. Maybe you can cook him dinner, make his favorite foods to cheer him up and then tell him,” she suggests. “I have to go, hun. Fury’s calling. Focus on how you feel about it and tell Tony when it feels right.”
“Okay… Bye, Nat.”
“Bye, (name).”
The phone beeps as your friend hangs up. You look down at your still-flat belly, running a hand over it. You like the idea of having children, you really do… But what will Tony say? How will he respond?
A week’s passed and you still haven’t figured out how to tell your lover that he’s going to be a father. Every time you swallow the lump in your throat and gather your confidence, someone interrupts or Tony gets distracted, and the moment is lost.
You haven’t told anyone besides Natasha, though you can sense the concern and confusion seeping from the other Avengers whenever your mood swings rear their ugly heads or your obscene cravings come into play.
You sit at the bar that makes up the border between the kitchen and the main entertainment room, nibbling on your peanut butter/maple syrup/sprinkles-coated toast. Bruce expresses concern that your sugary snack would cause diabetes, Clint turns up his nose in a “that looks absolutely disgusting” manner, and Thor grins at the idea, stating that it appeared to be delicious and that he’d love to try it.
Tony then decides to stride into the room and excitedly claim, “Poker night!”
“Sounds fun!” Clint grins, offering the billionaire a thumbs up.
“What is this ‘poker night’?” Thor inquires, pulling his freshly toasted toast from the toaster and preparing to sugar-coat it up as you’ve done with yours.
“Clothes on at all times,” Natasha adds, taking a seat on the couch beside the archer.
“Will there be alcohol involved?” Bruce questions wearily.
“Of course there will be booze!” Tony exclaims, sitting in the recliner in front of the game table and shuffling the cards. He notices your lack of response and turns to look at you. “You in, babe?”
You gulp down the last of your toast before replying, “as long as I don’t drink anything.”
He frowns. “Why not? You always drink with me.”
Your gaze wanders to Natasha, who responds with a reassuring nod. You stand up from your stool and walk over to sit on the arm of Tony’s chair. You rest a hand on your stomach. “I won’t be drinking booze for a while, Tony.”
His brows furrow in confusion as Steve and Bruce’s mouths form an ‘o’ of understanding. Natasha watches Tony for his expression while Clint smirks. Tony’s eyes flick between your worried gaze and the hand resting on your belly a few times before the wheels in his head turn and click together. “Oh!”
You bite your lip in anticipation, completely on the spot as you had not intended on sharing the news with everyone all at once, unless you had told Tony privately first.
“That’s wonderful, babe!” he cries happily, standing up and wrapping his arms around your waist. Your eyes widen in surprise and confusion as he spins your around, hugging you tightly.
“Really?” you confirm, looking up at him, wondering if he’ll run away and change his mind.
He smiles. “Really.”
The other Avengers “aww” as he kisses you passionately, hands cupping your face, your hands resting on his forearms.