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Eight months had passed after the unforgivable birth of the Starks first daughter, Morgan, and they couldn't be happier. Sure, there's times where babies are a lot to handle, especially when they wake up in cries at the middle of the night, but those moments were enjoyable for either one of them. There was even one time when Tony laid half awake at night waiting for his daughter to call for him so he had an excuse to walk into the nursery and rock her back to sleep.

"Sweetie, aren't you hungry?" (Y/N) asked in a soft voice, urgency in the back of her throat. She held up a small spoon in one hand, and the flask with pureed food in the other. "Mommy's also hungry."

She'd been trying to feed Morgan her lunch over the past 20 minutes, since the six-month old finally got to the stage when she's rejecting every food offered at her and batting it away like flies.

(Y/N) tried another attempt in bringing the spoon of food close to Morgan's mouth, but she turned her head to the side with a sound of displeasure.

"I promise, if you eat this, you'll become my favorite Stark."

The sound of Tony's footsteps approaching the dining room rang in (Y/N)'s ears, not even turning around to face him fully. He'd been busy cleaning up the nursery and tidying up Morgan's playpen, so he hadn't gotten the chance to sit down with his family ever since breakfast.

"Oh, honey," he made his presence known to his daughter sat in the high chair. "You told me you'll love us both equally."

"Well, she doesn't have to know."

He pressed a kiss to her hair, which made (Y/N) make a squeal with a scrunched nose, and sat down on the chair across from her. "Still no luck?"

"No," (Y/N) shoulders sagged. The exhaustion was finally taking over her body. "I don't know what to do."

"I can do — "

"No. No. I can do this," (Y/N) cut him off desperately. "We can do this. Right, Morgan?"

Morgan was too busy making drool bubbles to focus on whatever they asked her. Tony tried to restrain the snort at the way their daughter was absolutely clueless to (Y/N)'s failed attempts in feeding her, but he was still heard.

"I don't see how this is funny," (Y/N) gave him a look, her tone not entirely angry but mostly exasperated.

(Y/N) turned around to face Morgan again, forcing the spoon back into the bowl with the baby food inside. She scooped up enough on the spoon held it up for her daughter to see.

"See?" she moved her hand holding the spoon. "Food's good!"

(Y/N) brought the spoon to her own mouth and swallowed the pureed food, trying to keep the happy facade. When her mouth fully took in the flavor, (Y/N) didn't attempt to swallow it down and grabbed a napkin to spit the food out, moving to the side so Morgan couldn't see.

Tony looked at her with a knowing look, which made her let out a sigh of defeat. "Okay, fine."

Tony held out his hands for (Y/N) to hand him the bowl and spoon. She gave them to him with a frown on her face, a long sigh leaving her lips as she leaned back down on her chair. Tony easily scooped another spoonful of food and brought close to Morgan's lips, and the girl opened her mouth and swallowed the food as if she hadn't argued for 20 minutes about not eating it.

(Y/N) crossed her arms over her chest. "Tony?"

"Hmm?"

"What am I doing wrong?"

"Nothing, honey," Tony tried to reassure her. He grabbed a napkin to wipe Morgan's stained cheeks with it. "Nothing at all."

"Morgan here just happens to be a daddy's girl."

He wasn't wrong. Ever since she was one month old, (Y/N) had been trying hard to create some sort of bond with Morgan, feeling that if she didn't try now, she'll never have that connection with her. But what infuriated her even more was the easy way Tony was able to connect with her. From being the first one to make her laugh to the first word she's ever said, Tony made the whole parent thing look like it was the easiest thing ever.

All (Y/N) wanted to do was differentiate herself from the image she had of her own parents behaving when she was young and create a new one for her daughter.  But (Y/N) couldn't remember a single time she's ever laughed at something her mother's said, so why did Morgan have to?

(Y/N) couldn't stand being in the dining room any more, feeling that if she spent one more minute in the same spot she might cry. She got up from her chair without a word, and Tony removed his eyes from feeding Morgan to her, sensing that something was wrong.

He stopped all his motions. "Hey, do you wanna burp her? I'm almost done feeding her."

"No, don't worry," (Y/N) shook her head in dismissal. "I have to wash the dishes anyway."

(Y/N) pretended not to hear the way Tony called her name as she made her way back to the kitchen. She tried to muffle the groan when she saw the pile of dirty dishes, curtesy of today's breakfast when Tony tried to make omelets but ended up making a pile of burnt eggs. (Y/N) made her way over to the sink and monotonously grabbed one plate, sprayed it with water, scrubbed the scraps of food stuck to it, rinsed it again and placed them on a rack to dry.

Tony, on the other hand, pulled Morgan out of the high chair and held her against his chest. He patted her back repeatedly for a few seconds to make her burp, satisfied when he heard the small noise leave her lips. He bounced her up and down in a slow rhythm as they made their way over to the set-up playpen in the middle of the living room.

Tony had gone all out while buying, making sure that it was spacious enough to let Morgan play without feeling caged in, and also large enough to fit inside with her. The playpen was filled with toys and stuffed animals that Morgan had received from each candidate as godparent. Even Charlie, (Y/N)'s brother, had given a toy of his own once he got the news that he had a niece.

Tony carefully placed Morgan inside the playpen, shushing her sounds of displeasure when she realized that her father wasn't getting in after her. He grabbed the hippo stuffed animal that Natasha had bought her to distract her, which seemed to work. Once he realized she was busy enough, Tony made his way back to the kitchen.

(Y/N)'s back was facing him as he approached the kitchen, and he saw this as a perfect opportunity to sneak behind her. She kept doing her routine, not moving her gaze from the dirty plates and utensils in front of her until she felt a pair of arms sneak around her waist. Subconsciously, she let out a sound of content as Tony pulled her back against his chest. She felt him press a feathered kiss on her temple, swaying both of them side to side before anyone could say something.

"What's wrong?" he asked carefully, diving right into the problem.

"Nothing," she dismissed easily. "I'm almost done here, so let me focus."

"Not until you tell me what's wrong."

(Y/N) let out a deep sigh out of her nose, placing the plate into the rack with much greater force. Tony removed his arms around her waist and moved them up to her shoulders to wash her tension away.

(Y/N) figured there was no way of escaping this confrontation, so she decided to rip the bandage off. "I'm a terrible mother."

Tony's movements froze. "What?"

"You heard me."

"(Y/N), what the hell are you talking about?"

"You know for sure what I'm talking about," (Y/N) responded, irritated because of his ignorance.

"No, I don't," Tony copied her tone, eyebrows furrowed. "So elaborate your point, please."

(Y/N) removed herself from Tony's grip and tried to walk away from the sink. She grabbed a towel to dry her water-wrinkled fingers in.

"Ever since she was born, I can't help but feel like I haven't done anything," she began. "You got to have her first laugh, her first word, hell, you're probably going to be the first person she walks to."

Tony was about to open his mouth to debate but (Y/N) couldn't let him, already too deep to cut her words through. "Morgan doesn't need me. I'm a bother to her. She's as happy as a clam with you."

"Honey — "

"Let me finish, please," (Y/N) raised a palm to silence him. She tried to stop her voice from cracking. "I'm terrified that she'll grow up to have the same relationship I had with my mother. That she has the same thoughts I have of my own mom; wanting to avoid her at all costs."

Tony, who had stood glued to his spot after she had freed from his arms, opened and closed his mouth like a guppy trying to say the right thing. His eyes were compassionate, as if he understood what she was feeling, staying silent for one who minute before he finally said,

"You couldn't be more wrong."

(Y/N) stared at him like he'd grown two heads. "What?"

"You're wrong," he repeated. He stood his ground.  "You're the best mother Morgan could ever ask for."

"Tony — "

"Ah, ah. Let me finish," now he was the one holding his hand up to silence the other. "You carried her for. . .one whole week as she grew inside you. You were strong enough to withstand the contractions while going through labor. That just proves how amazing you are."

"And," Tony marched up to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

He guided her back to the playpen in the living room, where Morgan was peacefully playing with the stuffed animals all around her. She was making sounds that resembled her laughter as she tossed the toys around, and (Y/N)'s gaze immediately melted at the sight of her.

"She's perfect because she looks just like you," Tony's voice returned to her ear.

Tony climbed inside the playpen, losing his shoes while doing so. Morgan noticed that her father had joined her and her toothless smile grew. He gestured for (Y/N) to join them, and she looked rather hesitant to do so. She figured there was no harm in doing so and got inside the same way Tony did, just sitting right across from where they stood, legs crossed underneath her.

Morgan grabbed one of her toys and handed to Tony to include him in her entertaining game as he pulled her to his lap, sputtering out incoherent noises while doing so. (Y/N) couldn't help but feel like this proved her point, and she sniffled to avoid her tears to be visible.

Morgan, as if she could sense her own mother's distress, made disgruntled sounds to free herself from her father's grasp so he could place her back on the ground. Tony obliged, not feeling anything out of the ordinary, so he placed her back in the blankets and even grabbed one of her toys so she could play with it. Morgan didn't pay that any mind to that, instead placing her little arms in front of herself and dragging her tiny body across the blankets.

(Y/N) looked up at the sound of the tussle and her eyes widened when she saw Morgan slowly crawling her way over to her. Morgan took her sweet time in arriving at her destination, but once she did, she stopped right in front of (Y/N)'s crossed legs. Once she realized who she bumped into, Morgan made grabby hands for (Y/N) to pick her up.

(Y/N) picked her up and sat her down between her legs, bouncing a knee up and down. Morgan reached her small hands to (Y/N)'s face, touching her cheeks and discovering the new surface. Without knowing it, Morgan wiped out the falling tear out of her mother's cheek, her round eyes softening as if she could feel the same emotion as her mom.

"Mama?"

(Y/N) froze up, quietening down to process the word. Her eyes travelled to Tony sitting across from her, eyes shocked just like hers, nodding as if to confirm he'd heard the same thing. Her attention went back to Morgan sitting on her lap, and (Y/N) smoothed down the growing brown locks of hair on her head with an emotional smile.

"Yes, baby," (Y/N) laughed emotionally. "It's mama."

(Y/N) wrapped her arms around Morgan's figure, pressing a kiss to her chubby cheek before trailing down her neck to blow a raspberry in that spot. The contact made Morgan break into a fit of loud laughter, shaking along with the noise which brought an even wider smile to her mother's lips.

Morgan's laughter didn't seem to ever disappear, only quiet down a little when she turned back to face Tony, extending her other arm out to him. "Dada!"

Tony made his way closer to his girls, a smile never leaving his features. Morgan made herself comfortable in (Y/N)'s lap and used her chubby hands to grab the toys near her mother. Once one was in her grip, she handed one to Tony and another one to (Y/N), encouraging them to play along.

(Y/N) enthusiastically moved the toy that was given to her, mimicking her daughter's movements. When she felt Tony's gaze on her, she lifted her eyes to look at him. "What?"

"Nothing," he copied her words from before. "You're just the best mother in the world."

they mean so much to me :(((
next chapter has some drama, and also some old characters coming back if you know what i mean  ;)

- see you soon, bex <3