𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 [𝖙•𝖘] [𝖎𝖒 - 𝖊𝖓𝖌]

⁶⁷. 𝐷𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑦

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰ ───

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.