#marvel fluf

With the cookies in hand, a glass of cool milk, a warm blanket, and a tiny little wrapped box covered in Ironman paper, you waited only somewhat impatiently on the couch as the footsteps descended down the stairs. You turned your attention to him, smiling at how carefree and almost giddy he looked. His salt and pepper hair was going every which way, thin framed glasses perched on his nose as he didn't bother with contacts or designer frames, a soft, old wrinkled red shirt glowing softly in the center and a pair of black night pants he swore he didn't want, and the Ironman slippers you had gotten him as a gag gift which happened to stroke his ego slightly; he was the picture definition of comfort and relaxation. 

"Sorry I kept you waiting, hun. I was trying to make sure everything was in order before I gave you your gift," He said, stealing a cookie from the plate on the coffee table and sitting on the couch, one leg up on the cushion as he twisted some to better see you. 

You smiled softly, "You know I don't like when you keep me waiting, Mr.Stark," you hummed and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his lips before he could take another bite of cookie. 

He chuckled breathily, "And you know I don't like to keep you waiting, Mrs.Stark." Tony leaned forward and pressed another kiss to your lips before returning back to munching on the cookie. 

Tony pulled a red envelope out of his pocket and sat it on the coffee table, "So who is going first?" He asked, looking over at you. "I think your gift is gonna be better," he teased some, wiggling his eyebrows at you. 

You scoffed, looking scandalized, "How dare you presume I'm not about to give you the best gift on this planet."

"Rock, paper, scissors then? Winner opens first?"

"You're on," with a small giggle you turned to face him more, pounding your first on your hand three times and pulling out scissors.

Tony threw out paper and groaned exasperatedly. "How do you always win?"

"Because you, my dear, always start with paper." You teased, booping his nose before grabbing the envelope. "Any warnings before I open it?"

He grinned, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the couch. "Nope, just that I'm the best husband."

Shaking your head and rolling your eyes with a smile on your face, you couldn't help but to utter, "You're an idiot," lovingly as you opened the letter. 

Pulling out a piece of paper your eyes read over the words, "Certificate of Adoption". Your eyes widened and you unfolded the paper, seeing that it was a confirmation for the adoption of a rather small 3 year old pit bull from a charity event the two of you had attended earlier that month. A picture fell out of the folded paper, showing the black and grey blue nosed pit bull with bright eyes and a squeal ripped itself out of you. 

"Thank you thank you thank you," you squeaked, sitting everything on the coffee table and practically flinging yourself into Tony's lap, covering his face in kisses. "I thought you didn't want a puppy though," you said, still kissing his skin. 

He laughed more, deep in his chest, "In my defense," he started, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. "He's three so he's not a puppy. But I knew you fell in love with him the second you saw him and you looked so heart broken when he didn't get adopted. So I adopted him and donated a few thousand to the shelter he was from."

Another squeal as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. "Thank yoooooouuuu," you whined, wiggling. "When do I get him?"

"We're gonna pick him up on the way home, baby girl,"his chest rumbled with more laughter as he pressed a kiss into your hair.

After a few moments you pulled away, "Okay okay, that was a good on but I promise mines is better," you said, nearly breathless as you came down for the sudden burst of excitement. You grabbed the small box and handed it to him, sitting sideways, criss cross on the couch, hands in lap as you watched him. 

Tony quirked an eyebrow, "I think the wrapping paper alone is a gift," he chuckled before opening it, purposely taking his time as he felt the anxiety radiating off of you. With the gift wrap gone it left what looked like a long jewelry gift box, and when his brows furrowed you bit your lip, knowing he wasn't expecting what was inside.

He pulled open the black top, revealing a clear baggie filled with five pregnancy sticks, all showing the little positive sign. He stared down at them, eyes darting across each one as he processed what this gift meant. Sitting the box and his glasses on the coffee table, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees and face buried in his hands. 

A wave of anxiety and fear swept over you as your stomach dropped. Maybe this wasn't the way to tell him, maybe he didn't want kids anymore, maybe he didn't want them with you. You hesitantly scooted over to him, now kneeling beside him and placing a hand on his shoulder, "Tony?" You all but practically whispered. 

He sniffled, looking up at you, tears pricking his big brown eyes. "I'm gonna be a dad?"

You sighed in relief and smiled at him, nodding as you spoke, "Yeah, you're gonna be a dad. 7 more months." 

He laughed softly, disbelief evident on his face as he wiped his eyes, a bright smile taking over him. "I'm going to be a dad," he repeated, more so to himself as he pulled you into his lap, hugging you tight and burying his face in your chest. 

You wrapped your arms around him, kissing his hairline before tugging on his hair to make him look at you and pressing a kiss to his lips. "I think I won." You teased softly as you pulled back.