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illogicalkat · 2 months ago

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okay I suspect @smidnite is counting new kittens (can we get pictures? pretty please?) and paging @winterspiderpurrs too... I had a bit of inspiration this evening and wrote this.

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“I’m still not sorry I punched him,” Steve comments when Peter finishes telling his story.

“Yeah, we got that, Stevie,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes. The smile he offers Steve is a fond one, though. “And anyway, we're not the ones who have to explain a black eye to his fiance.”

Peter feels his stomach twist again. He does not want to think about Ms. Potts, ever again. If she hadn't been so vile…but, if she had told Tony about the pregnancy, Peter never would have met Steve and Bucky.

And it's not as though marriage to Tony Stark had ever been likely to succeed. The advice against entering a romantic relationship in the first year of recovery comes from hard-learned experience of thousands of people who battled addiction and won. Peter knows he and Tony were, in part, addicted to each other in place of the heroin. Peter would have been just as likely to wind up unmarried, only without his son, if Tony - or, more likely, Pepper - had decided the image of Tony as a doting father was better for Stark Industries stock prices.

So really, Peter thinks as he rubs at his stomach, he doesn't regret how things worked out. Peter by far got the better end of that deal, between Harley, and his mates, and May, and now this surprise pup –

“Are you okay, Mom?” Harley asks. “You keep doing that, do you have a stomachache?”

All three adults freeze, exchanging glances before Peter finally nods.

“I'm fine, Harley. Well, ‘fine’ as in, I don't have a stomachache. I've just got one more bombshell to drop, if you can–”

“Ohmygod are you pregnant again?”

Peter would laugh if he wasn't just a little worried about whether Harley's reaction is positive or negative. Harley hadn't exactly been enthusiastic when Peter had announced he pregnancy with May, although once she was born he'd become an excellent big brother.

“We only just found out, but yes,” Peter answers.

Harley launches himself into his mother's arms for the second time this evening. Peter wraps his eldest child in a hug, letting him tuck his nose into Peter's neck like when he was little.

“I can't tell how you're feeling about this, baby,” Peter murmurs.

“Happy,” Harley mumbles. “A little scared, but excited. Do you think this one will be a boy?”

Peter smiles and kisses the top of Harley's head. “It's a bit early to even guess. We know they're your Papa’s, though. You and May and Dad were at Aunt Becca's during that heat.”

“Ew, Mom, I don't need details.”

The post was getting a little long BUT @illogicalkat and @smidnite are so amazing for this!

Previous posts from the last addition done here:

And cause I loved it.... imma add a little more :D

*********************************************************

Steve went to get Sarah; his mom on the phone. She was always a voice of reason with him. He was hopefully she could shed some positive light in this situation.

"-That child has known you practically his whole life. You're his papa. Doesn’t matter what some... DNA test says A leanbh. " her Irish accent became more prominent, the more she talked.

" But a man has a right to his child. I know it's going to be hard. And poor Peter! Having to face that man again! I woulda hit him!"

Steve coughed a little and rubbed the back of his neck.

" Well, uuhh.. no problem there."

" Steve Grant Rogers Barnes! That temper of yours is always getting you in trouble!"

" Ma!"

" Could be making the situation worse."

" I know, Ma, I know..."

Steve could hear her sigh on the other side of the phone.

" Well. Was it at least a good hit?"

Steve laughs and moves back toward the dining room where Peter and Matt are still at.

" Yeah, it was a -"

Clatter.

The phone slipped from Steve's hand as he stared at Peter.

While Steve had wondered off to speak to him mom, Bucky had gone back up stares to check on Harley and May after seeing that Tony had gotten in the car and was a long ways away from the house.

Peter gathered up the paper they had, scanning it over to Matt's office for him so he could review it again in Braille once he got it to his special machine.

" I uuhh... have another question since it's just us."

" Of course. What is it?"

Matt tilted his head toward Peter, sensing that he was nervous again.

" I umm read before that you cannot uhh get divorced if your... pregnant?"

Matt blinks.

" Oh,"

Peter nervously gathers the papers and puts the extra copies in Matt's briefcase for him.

" It's not his. Obviously, but umm, I just wanted to be sure."

Matt smiles and shakes his head.

" You're fine. The state of New York lets you. And as he has no rights to you anymore... you're safe. Congratulations."

Peter smiled in relief and pressed a hand to his stomach. Laughing a little.

" Yeah... I just found out last week. Was gonna wait a few more weeks. Before saying anything to Steve and Bucky. This one definitely was an oops surprise pregnancy."

Clatter.

Peter and Matt turn toward the door to see Steve standing there staring. Cell phone on the floor.

" You're pregnant?!?"

Meanwhile, upstairs, Harley is pacing his room. Why would THE Tony Stark be here? Was it for Dads metal arm that Mom helped create? Was it the scholarship program his school had?

Was he coming to expand his art collection with one of Papa's paintings? Mom had gone back to school and gotten his degree and had written a couple of papers. But would that be enough to get Tony Stark's attention?

He looks at the magazines cut out he had of Tony Stark from a few years ago when he was on the cover of Time magazine. Dad had bought it for him while they were in line at the store. He frowns a little. Now recalling the wide-eyed stare his Mom had when he came into the room and saw it the first time. He seemed oddly nervous when he asked where that came from and why he had it.

The look on Tony Stark's face downstairs, he seemed scared, nervous, and hopeful?

He pulled his laptop up and hesitated a moment. Then he started typing away.

' Young Tony Stark photos'

The more he looked, the bigger the pit in his stomach grew.

He felt like he was going to throw up.

Across town, Tony was once again looking through the paperwork and looked at the copy of the birth certificate.

Father spot was blank on it.

But when he saw the name on the certificate, he rushed towards the trash can and threw up. It all just became too much. Everything that he was robbed of. And how much at least at the time of Harley birth that Peter obviously cared for him deeply.

Harley Edwin Anthony Parker.

#winterspidershield #past starker #omegaverse au #round robin #winterspidershield don't know Tony broke off his engagement #so as far as they're concerned #Tony is marrying the person he deserves

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forasecondtherewedwon · 5 months ago

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Emotionally Stabled

Fandom: My Lady Jane Pairing: Jane x Guildford Rating: E Word Count: 3144

Summary: Jane goes to have it out with her husband. To have something out. There's definitely a reason she hunted him down, but, stumbling upon him bathing, she can't quite remember what it was. Or; Guildford and Jane get a little more time in the stables before the sun rises.

When Jane sags against the post, she feels herself, for once, about as useless as a wife is meant to be. She feels stupefied. If her husband didn’t have water in his ears, he’d probably hear the dumb, animal thud of her lousy, shameless heart. But he’s wet. Soaked. Hair plastered to his head as he lifts his arms again to slick it back. The movement sets off a cascade of tensing muscle: his hands spread on his glossy hair, his firm-looking arms, the jumping landscape of his upper back, the shivery twitch of his tapering lower back. Guildford shifts his weight and Jane feels faint at the sight of the squeeze of muscle in his backside. She absentmindedly runs a fingertip below her lower lip, checking for drool.

She was in bed with this man. Next to him. She rubbed her legs vigorously against his, pretending to fuck. She wonders how on earth anyone believed them. Who, really, could writhe between the sheets with Guildford Dudley without making a sound? Jane’s nearly moaning where she stands, hypnotized by the shine of moonlight on his naked body.

Though she knows, distantly, that she came to the stables with something to say, it’s eluding her. She wonders if, when she does speak, she should remain limp by this post or go towards him. Probably the latter, but she has little faith that her legs won’t wobble in the attempt. Maybe if she’d had a few minutes to actually lie down. Properly lie down, because she has been horizontal rather a lot today, considering how much has happened. She collapsed during the ceremony, was restrained on a table for a dubious medical examination, participated in the aforementioned fake fuck, and yet none of these things were restful. None of them provided the strength she didn’t realize she would need for accidentally walking in on her starkers new husband.

If only that damn dressing room’d had a chair.

That was it! That was her complaint: he left her shut inside the dressing room! Swine! But Jane’s ire can only put up a half-hearted fight against the paralyzing murk of her lust. Her eyes continue to rove over Guildford as he turns partway towards her and she nearly gets a glimpse of… But no, not quite.

What’s he done to require bathing anyway? Were those brief minutes in bed with her enough to befoul his person? Is he trying to wash the whole horrid day from his skin? Again, she is deeply offended, even if it doesn’t show on her slack-jawed face. It isn’t her fault that they’re married. She had the least say of anyone. Maybe she was naïve to think that, once they were alone, the alliance they forged beneath the sheet would continue to flourish. That they could endure this thing together without one of them running away and getting dirty or sweaty or... something… and leaving the other one trapped!

No. This is just too… Jane has to put her foot down. Her foot in its fine, thin slipper. Her foot at the end of her weak-kneed leg.

She shouts at him as she stumbles inelegantly forward, berates him for his neglect, calls him names. At least, she’s pretty sure she does. She kind of loses focus; after turning towards her, he reaches for a cloth with which he presumably intends to cover the parts of himself she’s just been exposed to for the first time, but before he can secure it around his hips, he’s shouting back at her, the cloth clenched in his fist.

Jane’s never been yelled at by a naked man before. She tries to keep as tight a hold of her point as Guildford has on that cloth (and a ridiculously small cloth anyway, even if he had gotten it wrapped about him—bloody short-sighted to bring something that small to dry himself with—if he’s going to wash up in the stable, he could at least come prepared), but it’s a challenge.

Her distraction makes her more generous in their shouting match than she means to be; she lets him get away with interrupting her, lets her voice trail off so his can rise above it. The most she can really trust herself to do is fix an annoyed expression on her face.

Even that might be failing.

Her gaze keeps dropping from his contemptuous eyes to more welcoming sights. Somehow, she’s tottered near enough to see the individual, gleaming tracks of water droplets as they navigate the planes of his torso. They disappear into damp curls, hair so dark it might be black, and glisten. The contrast against his member is mesmerizing. His angry words are blunted by the heavy breathing coming from her mouth.

Too late, Jane realizes he’s trailed off. Her gaze snaps up to find Guildford watching her, watching him. Time to say something biting to regain the upper hand.

“You learned Latin in a ditch and you bathe in a barn?”

Perfect.

But he’s just staring at her steadily. He starts to cover himself at last and her gaze immediately drops to follow the motion. This makes the expression on his face—when she forces herself again to look up there instead of lower down—a rather smug one.

“I didn’t think you wanted to—”

“I don’t.”

Guildford’s continued grin says he doesn’t buy her adamant denial. Yeah, neither would she. The heat is absolutely radiating from her cheeks. He does her the conceited kindness of holding the cloth in front of his hips to block a select piece of her view, likely knowing it only makes her want to look more.

“The marriage was arranged,” he says with a calmness she couldn’t possibly muster.

“I know.”

“You tried to feign the Affliction to get out of our wedding.”

“I remember.”

“After we got through the bedding ceremony, I pretty much thought that was going to be it.”

“So did I,” Jane admits.

Guildford’s mouth falls open in apparent surprise—at her honesty? At the fact that this might be the first time she’s actually agreed with him?

“I came here to shout at you,” she feels the need to say.

He gives her a gentle smile that catches her further off guard.

“You’ve done that.”

But you’re not leaving, is implied.

Jane seems as incapable of retreat now as she was of standing upright on her own a few minutes ago. Actually, her unreliable feet trip towards him a few more steps. She remembers the days when it was her head that guided her feet, not the opposite.

Really, it should be Guildford with the advantage, despite his nudity. He’s larger than she is, visibly stronger than she is (Look at his face, she reminds herself), and these are his stables, at his home. Why, then, does her nearness seem to make him nervous? He’s a rake! Shouldn’t that make him invulnerable to one inexperienced young woman? But Jane sees Guildford swallow, and observes the way his eyes are now having trouble staying trained above her shoulders. She’s still in a state of undress, dressed for bed beneath her flowing robe—bed bed, not sleep, displaying a length of leg meant to incite a specific reaction. The kind of reaction that gets a marriage consummated. The kind of reaction that might be occurring behind that little cloth if the odd manner in which Guildford’s now holding it slightly away from his body means anything.

He clears his throat like he’s trying to regain command of himself, and possibly of her too, but it’s no good. She’s seen through him. What decides it for her—what makes Jane brave—is the glint of Guildford’s wedding ring. If they can fake it together, maybe they can do it for real together too. Holding his eye, she slips the robe from her shoulders. It lands on dirt and straw. She doesn’t care. She’s once again the most naked she’s ever been before this man, and he’s more naked still. His fortune, her rank, none of it matters. Jane may be the King’s cousin, but she’s also just a girl, standing in front of a boy, trying to communicate with her eyes how badly she needs him to fuck her.

“Unless you want that to be it,” she just barely gets out, close to a whisper.

Just as soft, he says, “I don’t want that to be it,” and it’s possible angels sing.

She goes to him, and he receives her, damp hand on the back of her nightdress to clutch her close. Her chest heaves as they pass a handful of seconds motionless in one another’s arms. Then they kiss, harder than she expects. Jane is grateful they didn’t do this in front of their wedding guests after all because she whimpers. Loudly. Thankfully, Guildford reacts by whipping the cloth to the ground so he can gather her close with both hands.

Jane’s eyes fly open; she can feel him. There! Poking against her with only her dress in the way, stuck to his skin and steadily moistening. As far as anybody knows, she’s felt this and more already, but she hasn’t, and it’s new, and she’s still staring wide-eyed at the face of the most desirable man she’s ever met (not that she gets out much) when his brow furrows as he kisses her. And that might be the most attractive thing he’s done yet: want her back.

Slinging an arm around the back of his neck, she steps out of her slippers, almost sliding on the wet dirt. Jane digs her toes in. This is the water that ran down his body while she spied on him. It’s touched more of her husband than she has, though she plans to rectify that. Her other hand goes to his backside. She squeezes her eyes shut to savour it. She might squeeze her fingers a little too.

Guildford huffs against her lips, his hands groping over her hips to pluck at the white fabric that’s plastered to her skin. Jane experiences a fairly significant case of nerves as he draws the garment over her head, but he greets her bared body with a look of unmistakable admiration, and she is reassured. His hands return to her hips, then one lifts to hover at her center. His raised eyebrows ask the question, a dip of her chin gives the answer, then he’s cupping her there.

He tries to start kissing her again as his fingers begin their exploration, but standing on slippery ground with her legs apart while her husband traces lightly across her engorged clitoris is already a lot to ask, and she has trouble concentrating on making her mouth respond.

Guildford notices and asks, “Would you prefer a bed?”

Jane’s hands smooth over his shoulders as she replies, “Not that one.” She means the one all those people stood around, laughing and gawking, cheering and too drunk to doubt their weak pantomime. She’s not eager to return to that bedchamber, where they would never really have privacy, since a servant could stroll right in, or someone like Guildford’s repellant brother could listen at the door. At the moment, she’s not sure she’ll ever be able to associate that room with much besides stress and humiliation. Even the crackling inferno of lust she feels for her husband might not be enough to smoke those bad feelings out. That can’t be the first place she ever takes Guildford inside her. It just can’t. She’d do it anywhere else. She’d do it on—

“The floor!”

Guildford looks at her doubtfully.

“You realize,” he says, “that would mean you could never make another joke about ditch Latin or barn bathing? You’ll always be the girl unvirgined in the dirt.”

Jane glances around them.

“There’s also straw,” she points out.

She just wants him to say yes. To say anything affirmative, or suggest a better option. It’ll have to be close by though, because the thought of putting her nightdress back on after Guildford peeled it away so sexily makes Jane feel profoundly awkward. Despite her mother’s assumptions, she isn’t clueless about sex. Not the mechanics anyway, nor the multitude of ways it can affect a woman—ways that require herbal treatment. But the rest of it is something of a mystery. The romance, she supposes. Of course, Jane knows romance doesn’t always have to be part of it, but she’d like it to be, here, with her wet, beautiful husband.

“Could we make a compromise and say… your robe?” Guildford nods at where she dropped it, steps away.

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind—” she begins, trying for blasé.

But he says, “I would,” with a tenderness that prevents her from going on.

Instead, Jane goes to the robe and gives it a flick to spread it out flat. She sits. He crouches. When she parts her knees and eases onto her back, he stretches over her. It’s cool on the ground, but soft on the robe. Guildford stares down at her as his hand strokes up the nape of her neck, fingers burrowing into her hair. With this hold on her, he starts to kiss her again, and this time, all her attention is on kissing him back.

His skin is still wet, but that isn’t why Jane shivers. Once she has her hands on his chest, her thighs instinctually closing around his hips, Guildford sneaks a hand down to continue what he barely began while they were standing. Her next response is a broken gasp into his mouth. She feels his smile as he repositions his lips on her throat, and she doesn’t mind it. His touch between her legs is careful but not hesitant. She supposes she is being quite encouraging. After the initial gasp, she offers him a bouquet of sounds: of relief, of surprise, of need. His fingers manipulate her with the same accuracy and self-assurance she saw him demonstrate throwing knives. The thighs that clamped around him now fall apart again just as naturally. It’s something visceral, something to spur him on when the words won’t come.

He nips lightly at a straining muscle in her neck—another new sensation for her, and a reach towards control for him as his fingertips glide lower. She wonders which of them the circles he draws around her entrance is meant to tease. His breath is humid on her neck as he works a finger inside of her. Jane makes a noise she’s terrified is too grunt-y, but he seems to like it, judging by how he tilts his hips to press his hot erection against her thigh. Guildford crooks his finger and rocks his hips at the same time and, ah, she understands where his mind has gone.

Then, there isn’t much more thinking, only movement, the increasing pace of his finger—then pair of fingers—to match the hungry roll of her hips. She can hardly lie still when he starts driving his fingers in and out of her body, that little scoop against her front wall when he’s deep. She’s not the only one losing herself; Guildford abandons her neck for her breasts, sucking and biting until her hips leave the ground. In a haze, she watches him: his bowed head, the shifting muscle in his shoulder, the sheen that isn’t water on her thigh where he rubs himself.

When the pleasure peaks, he removes his fingers to keep massaging her on the outside, his member replacing them in a jerky advance that prolongs her bliss and seems to nearly kill him. That’s what his face says when Jane forces her eyes open (when did she close them?) to observe the unfurling course of events. With weird delight, she finds herself being as tender with him as he was with her, meeting his rakish reputation with sweetness. She caresses the face he’s lifted from her breast, running a finger over his lower lip. He groans, eyelids flickering. She tightens her other arm around him—not to restrain his thrusting, but to luxuriate in the feeling of all those parts of his body that captivated her under the stream of water working in concert at a different task.

Jane can tell Guildford’s getting close to achieving the same feeling he just gave her. She anticipates a grunt of some kind followed by him collapsing on top of her. He shocks her by withdrawing instead, reaching for his manhood, pumping the ruddy length in his fist with an aggression that elicits a moan from her. Once more, he watches her watching him. He opens his mouth and seems about to say her name when—

She’s startled again when the spatter hits her skin, and then her husband’s collapsing on top of her. There, she thinks, rolling her eyes and patting him on the back. I know something of the world.

When Guildford raises his head to meet her eyes with his dazed ones, he asks, “Was that alright?”

Begrudgingly, she finds it endearing. She brushes his hair back from his face, touching him like a wife might in a marriage where they wanted it, wanted this, wanted each other.

“It wasn’t nearly as bad as I imagined it would be,” Jane allows.

“Bad?” Guildford stiffens and pushes up, frowning. “You were imagining it would be bad? That’s why you stood there staring at me for ages before you collected your wits enough to announce yourself?”

“You knew I was there?!”

“I have excellent hearing.”

She’s irritated and muddled and embarrassed. Somehow, she feels tricked, though she’s the one who was spying on him.

In response to his superior look, Jane sputters, “Why didn’t you say something?”

“I figured you were concentrating and didn’t want to interrupt your fantasies of… disappointment.” He’s smirking. “They must have been thorough.”

She turns her face pointedly away from his amusement, but Guildford chases her mouth. The second he kisses her and she’s powerless to do anything but return it, her rickety lies fall through completely.

“Fine,” she says, while he hovers over her, “I enjoyed it.”

“Effusive praise.”

“I might be more loquacious if I couldn’t feel your seed drying on my stomach.”

“Oh.”

Impressively recovered, Guildford springs to his feet and offers Jane a hand, bringing her up after him.

“I know just the thing,” he says.

She takes a few unsteady steps (oh, she is feeling what just happened between them), then realizes his plan. Her husband douses her before she can wriggle from his grasp, tossing the pot back into the trough of water with a laugh. Gasping, Jane casts a glance around for that wretched cloth, but can’t spot it. She has nothing but vengeance in mind when she decides to press herself against him to wipe the water away.

Only vengeance.

That’s all.

#my writing #My Lady Jane #MLJ #Jane Grey #Guildford Dudley #Jane x Guildford #My Lady Jane fic

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starksvinyls · 4 months ago

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Fic: Ours

Rating: Teen+ Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Tags/Warnings: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Adoption, Married Couple, Spider-Man's Identity Is Known, mentions of OC death, Not Beta Read Summary: As the dust is settling from another battle in NYC, Peter hears something that shakes him to his core - a baby crying from the pile of rubble that was once an apartment building. Notes: for @starker-battleship prompt "accidental baby acquisition" + @starkerfestivals summer bingo, square N3 "free space" + @pparkerbingo sfw square N4 "kid(s)" (cards below the cut)

Preview:

The dust was still settling when Peter heard it. He whipped his head around in the direction he thought it was coming from and asked Karen to scan the collapsed building he was staring at. Peter heard it again and started running towards the rubble.

“Signs of life detected, Peter,” Karen sounded sad. “But it’s a small being.”

Just as Peter had feared - a baby’s cries.

🔹 CONTINUE READING 🔹

#starkerbattleshipr01 #sfsummerbingo24 #pparkerbingo24 #starker #starker fanfic #starksvinyls fic

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the-mad-starker · 9 months ago

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Starker Fluff: LUV U, from Morgan💗

For @starksvinyls in @starkerfestivals Starker Valentine's Day Exchange 💗💗

I chose this prompt!

Prompt: Their kid’s first valentine’s day in grade school and them helping prepare

I hope you like it and that my fluff was sufficient 🥺 I don't write fluff much but I had fun writing this!! And of course, the hardest bit was finding a title and I finally went with this 😱 the LUV U, from Morgan💗 is supposed to be towards the entire starker fandom cause I love you guys 💗

Rating: G

Notes: Omegaverse, married starker, mpreg (Peter is currently pregnant in the fic), domestic fluff

WC: 2662

(AO3 Link)

💗💗💗

Tony Stark, perusing down the aisle of a local Walgreens? More likely than you think. Especially when he's being led by the hand by his 6 year old daughter, Morgan.

The little alpha girl was determined because she had seen the softest, prettiest blankets and had wanted to get them for her best friends.

“There! There!” She did a kind of hop skip, jerking impatiently in place because of her grip on Tony’s hand.

For such a little girl, her grip was strong but even then Tony just grinned and hurried along. Once they were close enough, Morgan let him go and eagerly reached up on her tippy toes to get the large throw blanket.

Tony could've easily gotten it for her but she was at that age where she wanted to do everything by herself so Tony let her when it was possible.

The blanket was almost bigger than her, a cute turquoise blue that was decorated with cute candy hearts. Once Morgan had it in her hands, she rubbed her face against a candy heart that said “LUV U.”

“It's so soft,” Morgan marveled, “just like Mama’s nest blankets.”

She ran her little hand over the blanket’s surface and looked up at Tony with those honey brown eyes she inherited from her mama and Tony’s mate, Peter.

“Do you think they’ll like it?” she asked with all the seriousness a 6 year old was capable of.

Tony knew a simple yes wouldn't do it so he bent down on a knee and held out a hand.

Morgan offered it to him and Tony took it. He ran a critical eye over it and let out some serious sounding hmm’s and ahh’s.

The blanket was soft and warm, the fabric especially tailored to omegas and meant for their nests. There was even a little pouch area where an alpha could insert an included heart candy shaped pillow. An alpha could scent the pillow and it could be inserted into the pouch so that the alpha’s scent could soothe the omega it was given to.

It was a popular gift given by alphas for good reason.

Of course, the price for it reflected that but money had never been an issue. He could easily get something of much better quality but this was the one Morgan wanted to give. And so, it was the one they were getting.

It really was a cute gift and even though Morgan and her besties were far from the ages where such gifts were really intended for, blankets were common gifts given between friends. Besides, just because it was tailored to omegas didn't mean alphas couldn't receive it as gifts too. Sharing scents between friends was a common gesture of affection, after all.

Overall, Tony thought it was a thoughtful gift for Morgan’s best friends.

“They’re gonna love it, Morguna,” Tony announced, showing his approval.

Morgan gave a large smile and proudly said, “I like it too! And look! There's a few different colors!”

Morgan took back the blanket with a happy smile and Tony smiled too, infected by her enthusiasm.

This time, Morgan watched as Tony pulled a few more blankets, each color getting the young alpha’s approval.

Once their main objective was secured, they checked out the rest of the aisle. Besides getting her besties their gifts, Morgan was also handing out Valentine's Day cards along with a small little gift baggie.

The Valentine's Day aisle was full of gifts. Fuzzy blankets, slippers, and of course, lots and lots of chocolate and candy. Across from the gifts was an aisle completely full of plushies of various sizes.

Tony had the pleasure of helping her load their little basket with goodies to make for goodie bags for the rest of her classmates. For the most part, he indulged Morgan’s choices, especially since she mostly went for cute pencils, stickers, erases, and mini notebooks. They were sold as sets, all intended for the little goodie bags that the Stark family would be setting up.

The little Valentine’s Day cards that sported the Avenger’s faces were ignored. Morgan had seen so much Avengers merchandise that she was mostly immune to it. Plus, for some reason they always made Iron Man’s face a little funky.

Instead, Morgan’s eye was caught by cute little animal themed Valentine’s Day cards which she happily put into the basket.

Tony did turn a blind eye to the little Spider-Man and Iron-man pair of plushies she snuck into the basket. It wasn't exactly easy to ignore when they were as big as her arm.

“For Mama and Daddy,” Morgan told him anyway. Then she held up a squishmallow of Spider-Man that was the size of her hand and asked, “For Morgan?”

Tony was supposed to be the stern parent but he quickly melted to Morgan’s puppy eyes. “How can we have a Spider-Man and Iron-man without a little baby Spider-Man?”

At Tony’s comment, her eyes lit up and she quickly went back to where she found the baby Spidey, only to come back with another little Iron-man of the same size.

Tony should've known and yet, when she looked up at him, offering the toy with the question, “For baby Benny?” Tony could only melt at her request.

Even mentioning the baby that Peter was carrying had Tony turning into a pile of mush. The baby in Peter’s belly was, according to Google, the size of a papaya at week 21. Their second pup, Morgan’s little brother that she was already spoiling.

Peter often blamed Tony for it, but they both knew that their little Morgan was just a thoughtful and excited Big Sister to Be.

“Of course, baby girl,” Tony smiled wide, lowering the basket so she could put the toy in. “We can't forget baby Benny.”

“Course not!” Morgan nodded oh so seriously, a satisfied smile on her face.

While they waited in line, Tony took a quick picture of their haul and sent it to his mate. Peter’s exasperated but fond response had Tony grinning.

My Love, My Mate, Hubby ❤️

We’re going to have a whole room dedicated to plushies of us and the team, aren't we? 🧐

Received

Tony Stark

Guess I shouldn't spoil what Pepp and Rhodey got the kids.

Sent

The conversation ended there as Tony and Morgan were next in line. A few minutes later, the two left and returned home.

There were plans. Plans which involve Morgan going to bed at 8 PM, the latest, but of course, things never panned out the way they wanted.

Morgan was too excited for Valentine's Day and even more so when they returned to find cupcakes waiting for them. Tony and Morgan had gotten the goodies while Peter had gotten the bags and cupcakes.

What followed was a night of chaos, as Peter, Tony, and Morgan worked together to put the goodie bags together.

Between the two of them, Peter was the genius as he set up the empty goodie bags on the table. Tony was regulated to organizing the packs of stickers, pencils, and erasers.

Their Morgan was fairly popular but she only called maybe two other kids her besties. For these, she personally picked out their stuff, but for the rest, Tony took over.

It was messy. It was a little chaotic.

Tony could've easily just gotten some grunts to do this or even easier, just bought some standard goodie bags. But as he was dropping pieces of candy, one by one, into each bag, he couldn't help but watch his two favorite people.

Morgan and Peter were across from him, working on the cards.

“This one for Parker?” Peter held up a card with some cute little frogs and read the front, “I hop we stay friends forever!”

“Oh!” Morgan giggled at the words and nodded. “Yeah, they’ll like that! They like frogs!”

Morgan took the card and focused on writing her classmate’s name with Peter’s supervision.

“P-A-R-K-E-R,” Peter instructed gently.

Morgan’s pencil was steady as she wrote and she echoed back each letter.

“...K… E…R!” She cheered as she finished. “Like this?”

A sweet smile crossed Peter’s face and kissed the top of Morgan’s head.

“Good job, baby.” he said then smiling down at the name, he added, “Did you know Mama's last name used to be Parker?”

Morgan looked up at Peter with a surprised look.

“Your last name’s Stark though! Like mine,” she said, 100% confident.

Peter just laughed and smiled. “Yeah, it's Stark now but before I met your Daddy, my name used to be Peter Parker.”

Morgan’s mouth formed a little O as she thought about it.

“I like it,” she decided, “But I like mama as Peter Stark too.”

Peter laughed again before agreeing wholeheartedly. “I like it too.”

Their laughter and soft giggles had Tony looking up, pausing in his own task. He had caught the tail end of the conversation and couldn't help the warmth that spread throughout his body as he looked at them. His pup. His mate. This moment… It was just part of their daily lives. It wasn't even Valentines Day and all they were doing was preparing for a little kid party.

A moment in time, something normal, and just every day. And yet… Tony felt like he could capture this moment, have it become one of his core memories. Morgan and Peter, their heads bent low as they worked together. Morgan’s little fingers curled around a pencil while Peter watched her, one hand on his pregnant belly, and the other fiddling with another Valentine's Day card.

“Love… M… o… r… g… a… n…!” their daughter cheerfully completed the card.

Morgan then looked up, as did Peter.

“Tony?” Peter asked curiously. He arched a brow even as Morgan reached over to hand the card to the alpha. “Anything wrong?”

He took a second to reply, just taking in the sight of Morgan looking at him curiously and Peter’s familiar and much loved face.

“Absolutely nothing, sweetheart,” Tony replied.

He took the card and continued putting the goodies in the bag. This time, he focused so they could get everything done in time. Even then, he had one ear listening to his mate and pup and occasionally, if he looked up and watched them joke around and write the cards, no one would blame him.

Truly, there was absolutely nothing wrong in his world.

His heart was full and he was not lacking anything in the world when he had these two– his family, his loves. His smile only grew wider when he thought of baby Benny.

There was absolutely nothing wrong and everything right.

After they finished, they were left with several neat rows of goodie bags, each one tucked by hand written cards by their sweet alpha girl. They made sure to praise her. Morgan had inherited Tony’s busy mind so being able to sit down for the hour was an accomplishment. It helped that Peter coached her and kept her attention by engaging her about her classmates.

Once dinner passed and then bedtime, Tony carried their kid to get washed up and from there, Peter took over.

Tony caught a glimpse of them, Morgan squealing as she ran into her room. Her arms were full of the plushies that were bought earlier, as well as the little heart shaped scent pillows for her best friends.

Peter tucked Morgan into her own big girl bed. There were a few blankets from their nest because even though Morgan was a big girl now (her words, not Tony's), she still couldn't fall asleep without the scent of her mama and papa. Tony hadn't protested the loss of their stolen blankets. He may even shed a tear when the day comes that she no longer needed or wanted to be scented by her parents but that day was somewhere far in the future.

By the time Tony came by, Morgan’s eyes were sleep heavy. They only fully close once Tony and Peter each give her a kiss on the forehead, exchanging “I love you”s and sleepy good nights.

Tony left the door open a crack and led his mate to their own comfy little nest with an arm around his waist.

When the lights turned on, Peter let out a soft little gasp when he was met by a huge bouquet of roses set by the bedside table.

“Oh…” He turned a pleased little smile towards Tony. “You know I don't need roses, Tony.”

Since Morgan was born, it felt like sometimes there was a fast forward button pressed on their days. There was just so much to do and so much to plan for. With the arrival of baby Benny, it would only get busier. And yet, Tony was determined to do his best to show how much he loved his mate and to do even these little things like get his roses whether it was Valentine's Day or not.

Tony hummed and wrapped his arms around his mate’s waist.

“I know, darling, but you deserve them,” Tony said. His hands slid towards Peter’s belly and he gently caressed the small bump there. “You're my partner in crime, the omega to my alpha, the mother to my kids– I love you, Pete. You've given me so much, let me give you flowers once in a while?”

“You give me so much more than just flowers, alpha,” Pete said in return. He cupped Tony's face in his palms, and the kiss they shared was as sweet as chocolate.

Tony sighed in contentment and breathed in the scent of his mate, his home.

“Wait– wait, don't distract me,” Tony huffed, pulling away to Peter’s surprise. “I have another gift for you.”

“Oh?” Peter questioned.

“Yeah, sit down,” Tony told him and Peter, with a healthy amount of curiosity, did as he was asked.

He only understood when Tony knelt down and took a hold of his foot, one hand cupping the sole whole the other rested on top.

“Oh!” Peter gasped, almost melting back into their nest of pillows and blankets.

“I learned a new thing,” Tony said as he massaged his mate’s aching foot. “I know it was around this time that it got particularly hard when you had Morgan and I felt bad that I couldn't help before… So just lay back and relax, babe.”

Peter had no complaints and by the time Tony was done, he had a fully relaxed mate cuddling into the pillows.

Inside him, Tony’s alpha was very pleased at being able to relieve some of Peter’s pain. He was even more pleased when he came into the nest and spent some time with the baby.

He caressed his mate’s pregnant belly, talking to baby Benny and peppering kisses on Peter’s belly. His soft words were mixed in with soft hmm’s from Peter and those words turned into a wordless pur when the omega started running his hand through Tony’s hair.

“Goodnight, baby Benny,” Tony whispered and pressed one more kiss to Peter’s belly. “Be good and let your mama rest, okay? You can go nuts when you come out, Papa will take care of you.

Peter chuckled, the soft laugher making his belly quiver beneath Tony’s touch.

“You say that now, but remember when Morgan came? You were a mess,” Peter teased him gently.

Tony kindly didn't mention that they had both been a mess as new parents but they had eventually found their way, hadn't they?

Morgan, being a great kid, was evidence of that.

Tony settled behind his mate, spooning against him so he could continue petting the soft skin of Peter's belly.

“I’m a pro now,” Tony protested quietly. “And I'm sure Benny will be a little angel.”

“Mhmm…” Peter murmured, already slipping into sleep. Tony nuzzled in close, kissing the spot right behind his mate’s ear.

He fell asleep to the sound of his mate’s purring, feeling content with his lot in life.

#starker #madStarker writes #fluff?!#omegaverse #mpreg #SFSecretStarkerValentines24 #moody mads

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