Tony!

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Age: 2
Warnings: swears
Word Count: 1059

Age: 2Warnings: swearsWord Count: 1059

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"Mommy has to go now, детка." Natasha whispered, kissing your temple. Your green eyes filled with tears as she held you close to her chest.

You huffed, allowing your tears to fall down your cheeks.

"No tears for me." She said, smiling. "I'll be home before you know it, okay?"

You nodded, wrapping your tiny arms around your mother's neck, placing a slobbery kiss on her cheek. With your arms still tightly around her neck, Natasha lifted you up walking you over to your Uncle Tony.

"Hey Pumpkin." He said, tickling your sides in an attempt to get you to laugh. You squirmed, giggling loudly while he took you into his own arms.

Natasha leaned over to give you one last kiss, stroking your soft red hair. "Be good for Uncle Tony, I love you детка."

"Love you too mommy." You smile, waving goodbye as she climbed onto the quinjet.

You watched as the quinjet took off, waving while Tony bounced you. You absolutely hated when Natasha left you alone for only a few minutes and now she expects you to be okay for three days without her?

After the quinjet was out of sight, Tony brought you back inside, setting you down on the couch beside him. He grabbed the remote, flipping through endless channels.

"Beauty and the Beast!" You squeal happily, clapping your hands as the movie pops up on the television.

"Don't you want to watch something else?" Tony tried, rubbing his hand over his face. "We've watched it twice already this week."

You folded your arms over your chest, giving your uncle a glare similar to your mother's.

"Fine." He groaned, turning up the volume a little and throwing the remote onto the coffee table.

You jumped happily on the couch while watching Gaston attempt to make Belle his wife. Tony just watched you, wondering what the hell was wrong with you.

You, born from a cold hearted assassin. It made him wonder what Natasha would have been like as a child had she not been cycled through the red room.

___

"Dinner!" Tony called, carrying two bowls of spaghetti pasta. He had to admit, he was very proud of how it turned out, especially since he was never one to cook.

You ran into the kitchen, excited for dinner. While struggling a bit, you managed to climb onto the chair as you patiently waited for your pasta to be placed in front of you.

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