MARVEL & DC IMAGINES

] cravings. [

It's official. You have hit a new low. Sitting in Tony Stark's bathtub in your husband's biggest t-shirt surrounded by jars of peanut butter and pickles. Gosh what had driven you to this?

Of course you knew the answer. It was your husband- Captain America himself. The man with the plan Steve Rogers who was probably looking for you right now. Well you and his Captain America shield which you had propped up against the nearest wall.

To be fair though, you hadn't started off this crazy. You had started off with the normal kind of pregnancy. The kind where you had morning sickness and 2 a.m. cravings and swollen feet. And Steve had been (and yes if you had to admit it from your hiding place in the bathtub, still is) great. He held back your hair and rubbed your back when you got sick in the morning, or really any time of day. He went to the store in the dead of night to get you peanut butter and pickles. He even rubbed your feet after rough days of training because he was honestly the most amazing person ever.

Steve Rogers was playing the part of perfect expecting father. Until he managed to find those damn pregnancy books at Barnes and Noble one day.

From the day he came home with not one, not two, not even four, but five bags full of parenting books you knew you were in trouble. Gone were the days of getting you food at all hours of the night and in came the reign of terror where instead he would present you with "healthy alternatives" of veggies and protein shakes. Gone were the blissful afternoons of foot rubs, instead replaced by Steve literally dragging you to the gym to do prenatal yoga or making you walk around the awful crowded paths of Central Park because you needed "fresh air" (whatever that was).

Honestly after three months you couldn't do it anymore. So here you were in the middle of the afternoon sitting in Tony Stark's bathtub slathering peanut butter onto pickles, something you had craved more than anything and had cried over more then thrice when Steve refused to let you eat any.

You're phone buzzed with another text from you husband and you were about to start feeling bad and reply when the bathroom door flung open.

"(Y/N)! There you are!" Steve's eyes were filled with worry for about two seconds before it was replaced with hurt and anger. "What are you doing here? I've been trying to get a hold of you for four hours now! And why are you sitting in the bathtub like that? You're going to hurt you back!"

Your eyes began to feel itchy with tears as you realized how worried Steve must have been. He loved you and you guys' baby so much and the idea of anything happening to the two of you must have been driving him crazy. You set down the jar of peanut butter you were holding in your left hand and were about to get up and apologize when his next words stopped you.

"And how many times do I have to tell you to stop eating peanut butter and pickles?!" Steve took a step forward but your cold glare stopped him in his tracks.

"Steven Grant Rogers I will end you. If you come one step closer and even THINK about taking away my snack which YOUR baby is making me crave I will grab your shield and hit you with it so hard you will still be unconscious when I give birth." The seriousness of your tone made your husband take a small step back.

As the red haze cleared from your vision you noticed the hurt on Steve's face. He looked like a golden retriever puppy that had just been kicked. His blue eyes looked up at you beneath his full lashes and his hands fiddled with the bottom of his t-shirt.

"I just wanted to help...."

The simple phrase hung in the air as you just stared at each other. It only took a few seconds before you burst into tears.

"I'm so sorry!" You wailed, dropping your half eaten pickles and burying your head in your hands.

"No honey! I'm sorry!" Steve rushed over and picked you up out of the bathtub with ease. He lowered you both to the ground so you were curled up in his lap as he stroked your hair and rocked you gently. "I know I've been a bit much but.. I'm so scared." The admission hushed your sobs a little as you looked up at Steve who had a distant look in his eyes. "I don't know how to raise a kid, and my dad was never around. I have no family to help me. And that doesn't even compare to how worried I am that our baby is going to be just as sickly as I was before the serum, or they could be like me now and hurt you. (Y/N), I haven't felt this lost in a very long time. I'm so used to having control over everything and now... now it's all gone when it's the most important." Steve laid his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. You could tell he was trying to hold back tears which made your heart clench.

"Steve you are already the best dad in the world. You are so loving and caring and brave and such an inspiration. And you have a family. The team is your family, and they might be completely crazy, but they will always be here for you. For us. And about our baby it doesn't matter. If they're sick, it's okay. Medicine has come a long way and we'll give them everything they need. If they're strong great, I can handle it Steve. Everything is going to be great. You don't need to be in control of everything all the time. Just let things happen. Like letting me eat peanut butter covered pickles."

Steve gave a hearty laugh as he rubbed his nose against yours. "I love you (Y/N). I couldn't do this with any one else."

"I love you too Steve. And I wouldn't have wanted to do this with anyone else."

You lean into your husband and give him a deep kiss. You knew he wouldn't be perfect, he would probably still drag you on walks and read all kinds of new age parenting books but it was okay because you knew where he was coming from. And if he ever tried to take away your snack again you would feel no hesitation in beating him with his own shield.

"Umm. As much as I'm glad you two love each other can you do it somewhere that isn't my bathroom floor?"

"Sorry Tony!"