prompt: humour @taylorswiftmicrofic wc: 512
stony (steve rogers/tony stark) superfamily (stony parenting peter parker)
Steve really shouldn’t be laughing.
Honestly through all of Steve’s stress reading of all the parenting books he could get his hands on, nothing could’ve prepared him for this.
All 3 foot nothing of his toddler stood in the doorway of his and Tony’s shared bedroom, tied in his own shirt.
Peter tries to lift his little hands out of the homemade straight jacket and huffs loudly, “Out!” He grunts.
Steve stares in slack jawed horror and humour.
This was not the sight he thought he’d be greeted with when he opened the door.
“How—“ Steve snorts, immediately lifting his hand to muffle his laughter when Peter scowls harder. It’s adorable.
“How’d you end up like this?” He says, trying very hard to keep a straight face as Peter attempts to wiggle and hop around trying to dislodge his arms.
“Dada!” The boy pouts, turning his big doe eyes onto his father.
“Dada did this?” Steve questions suspiciously and watch as his son’s pout disappears as his frustration grows.
“Uh huh, said Petey’s got sticky fingers” Peter mournfully says, pleading with his father to get him out of his predicament.
Steve’s lips quirk and before he can send himself into a fit of laughter, he quickly unties Peter’s shirt which is now slightly wrinkly.
Before Steve can finish adjusting his top, Peter is hightailing it down the corridor, yelling for Tony.
“Dadaaaa! Papa fix me! Papa fix me!” Peter sings mischievously and Steve hears Tony squawk indignantly from the lounge as the toddler launches himself off the ground and onto Tony.
Steve winces in time with Tony’s groan, he knows the pain all too well by now.
Having a rambunctious toddler meant finding new ways of aches and pains.
“You little klepto! You ratted me out to Papa?” Tony says exasperatedly.
Peter’s answering giggles makes Steve shake his head fondly.
He abandons his novel and reading chair to travel into the living room where his son and husband sit.
“Ah! The accomplice himself, you undid all my handy-work!” Tony exclaims and Peter only turns his bright little gummy smile onto Steve.
Steve’s heart warms.
“Why—pray tell—did you put our son in a straight jacket?” Steve questions with his brow raised.
Tony only smiles wickedly, “your son is a little kleptomaniac that stole my snacks from under my nose, I deemed subduing him a reasonable punishment!”
Steve gives him a look.
“He’s three.”
“And I was hungry—what’s your point?”
Steve sighs, turning to look at Peter who watches his parents conversation like a tennis match.
“Your dada is a silly man, don’t listen to him. Papa will give you all the snacks in the world bubba.” Steve coos softly, leaning down to pick up the curly haired toddler who clings to him immediately.
“Hey! What’d I tell you about sticky fingers—you get back here Stark-Rogers Junior!, I can forgive you for snack stealing but I draw the line at husbands! I only have the one!” Tony’s dramatic wail is drowned out as Steve takes Peter into the kitchen to make him a sandwich.
