#with round cheeks and big beautiful brown eyes and an adorable upturned nose

[cuteniaarts]

Little Water Lily

[vannahfanfics]

Opposites Attract

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: Naruto

Characters: Shikaku Nara, Inoichi Yamanaka, Choza Akimichi, Yoshino Nara

Shikaku’s heart fluttered as he gazed at her, a dreamy lilt to his smile as he pressed his fist further into his cheek. She stood across the bar at one of the many small round tables littered with slurring drunks; one hand clutched her hip, bunching up the soft red fabric of her dress, while the other wagged a finger threateningly at the patron who’d attempted to grab her rear while she passed. He could hear her berating yells and curses even from his seat at the counter. Her cheeks flushed pink as pure vitriol spilled from her glossed lips, making the drunk man slide lower and lower in his seat to try to escape the angry woman. 

What a sight, Shikaku thought with a lovestruck sigh. He’d never seen such a domineering woman, and damn, did it look good on her. Like a war goddess, she conquested this bar to lay low all the unruly drunks and vagabonds that dared rise against her. As she whipped around with a snooty huff, her nose upturned, her long brown hair slapped the poor man’s unwitting friend across the face. Her heels click-clacked across the wooden floor while she marched back to the bar, holding her notepad to her chest. 

“Wow,” he whistled appreciatively. “What a woman.” 

Inoichi raised a blond eyebrow at him, then craned his head to follow Shikaku’s hazy, adoring gaze to the waitress. She was yelling through the small window in the back of the bar to the kitchen now, calling off orders for small plates of food that the drunkards were ordering now that they had the munchies— or their considerably less drunk friends were ordering to try and sober them up before they attempted to totter home. Inoichi observed the women for a minute, and when she grabbed a bottle of alcohol straight from the counter to tip it back and pour a stream of the amber liquid into her mouth while eyeing the bartender challengingly, he looked at Shikaku questioningly. 

“You’re joking, right?” 

“You know what they say, Inoichi!” Choza chuckled, licking grease from the octopus balls he’d just devoured off his fingertips. “‘Opposites attract,’ right? A spitfire like that is the perfect woman for the biggest lazybones around,” the redhead snorted and elbowed Shikaku in the ribs. The dark-haired man snorted at the stinging pain that bloomed across the bone, prompting him to rub at the tender spot making a home in his intercostals. He snatched up his sake cup and drained the contents, wincing slightly as the clear, fiery liquid burned his throat. His eyes remained on the waitress, watching the sway in her hips as she fiddled at the register to charge up all the orders she’d just placed or added them to the patrons’ tabs. 

Many others would miss it, but not Shikaku and his trained eyes. As one of her coworkers walked up behind her and gently touched her on the shoulder, the woman turned around with a bright smile. Tenderness and joy existed beneath that tough exterior, he could see; her warm brown eyes shone with delight as she conversed with her friend, punctuating their conversion with cute little gestures of her hands. Softness and hardness existed in tandem in this woman, something that Shikaku found immensely fascinating. 

Too bad he’d probably never speak a word to her, he thought with a small sigh and refilled his small white cup to the brim with the clear alcohol. 

“Oh, no,” Inochi growled, furrowing his eyebrows when Shikaku raised the cup to his lips with a conspicuous look. “You’re gonna just moon over this woman all night, not do anything about it, then complain about how much of a drag it is that you let her slip away,” he predicted disdainfully. Shikaku’s mouth twitched into a frown, both at his teammate’s condescending tone and the painful accuracy of his statement. 

“Talking to women is a drag,” he mumbled into his cup and then downed it in one shot. Yet, he found his gaze drifting back to the woman. She was catching a quick break, leaning against the bar chatting amicably to the bartender. It seemed she’d abandoned chugging liquor from bottles for a club soda, which she was twirling around with a straw. The ice clinked against the glass, causing the little dewdrops of condensation to quiver before slipping down the side to bleed into the coaster. 

Somehow, even just the small swirling motions of her hand seemed magical to Shikaku. 

“Hello? Earth to Shikaku?” Inoichi sighed, snapping his fingers in front of the daydreaming man’s face. Shikaku scowled and shoved his hand away, nearly knocking the bottle of sake over. Thankfully, Choza’s quick reflexes averted disaster; he snatched up the teetering bottle and slid it further down the bar, away from Shikaku’s angry shoves. “Seriously, go talk to her.” 

“Are you kidding? She’ll bite my head off,” he grumbled. The thrill in his heart, however, belied the fact that he would probably enjoy it more than he ought to. 

“Come on,” Choza crooned, laying a big hand on Shikaku’s shoulders. The ponytailed man’s eyebrows scrunched suspiciously as he looked over his shoulder at the larger man. “You’re always complaining about how much time Inoichi and I spend with our girlfriends!” 

Hell, yeah, Shikaku did! It was such a drag, listening to those two bleat on and on about their significant others. Shikaku had been trapped in the middle of a sap session more times than he could count, just listening to the two praise their honeys to the high heavens. More than once, Shikaku had considered taking a kunai to the jugular to end his suffering. 

“What, and you think getting me one is the solution? How about you two just keep me out of your ‘who-can-praise-their-girlfriend-the-most’ competitions instead?” he snorted and reached for the sake. He scowled when Choza pushed it out of reach, obviously intent on keeping him sober enough to court the pretty waitress. A kunai to the jugular was looking pretty good right now, he thought, looking down at the equipment pouch strapped to his thigh. 

“Please, we all know that once you net a woman, you’ll be praising her more than either of us praise our partners combined!” Inoichi guffawed and slapped him on the shoulder several times as he laughed into his sake cup. Shikaku did not appreciate the joke, and showed such with a very unimpressed glower. After snickering at his expense for well over a minute, Inoichi leaned over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow and a smirk— a mischievous look if there ever was one. 

“What if I told you that she’s been making heart eyes at you since we walked in?” 

“You’re a liar!” Shikaku snarled, but took the bait and looked at the woman anyway. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest when he caught her gaze; she had been staring right at him! Her eyes widened in surprise as their eyes met, and then she looked away, pink rising to her cheeks. She pressed a hand to her lips, but despite her efforts to hide her coy smile, he could see it peeking out from beneath her fingertips. Shikaku’s heart played his ribcage like bongo drums while he gawked stupidly at the pretty waitress, who was hurrying off to take more orders on the floor so she wouldn’t get caught staring again. 

Slowly, Shikaku turned to look back down at the bar, not sure how to process the flurry of emotions whirling around inside of him. 

“Okay, so she was looking,” he said finally. 

“She’s into you, man!” Choza grinned and smacked him on the back. If the woman’s shy smile hadn’t stolen his breath, the redhead’s massive palm slapping into the middle of his back would’ve knocked it right out of him. “Come on, go for it! What do you have to lose?” 

“My dignity?” 

“So nothing, then?” Inoichi snorted into his sake. Shikaku scowled and shoved him in the shoulder again. However, he still found himself turning on the barstool to gaze longingly at the young woman. She had momentarily forgotten locking eyes with him, smiling pleasantly as she scrawled down an order from three young women who had just walked into the bar. He found himself melting at that simple upturning of her lips and the sheen of gloss shining under the dull lights. Shikaku had always found beauty in simple things— the trees rustling in the wind, the clouds drifting across the sky, the deer of Nara Forest grazing peacefully in the clearings— but this young woman working her humble bar job was the most simply gorgeous thing he’d seen in all his life. 

Thus, he found himself rising from the stool without realizing it when she began her meandering strut back to the bar. 

“Is the bartender not refilling your sake fast enough?” she quipped when he approached the register. Despite the harsh connotation of her words, he read through the playful lilt in her smirk and the glitter in her eyes as they peered at him from beneath her long lashes. She was pretending to process the newest orders; her fingers were uselessly fluttering over the buttons, never pushing hard enough to do any actual good. “I’m afraid that’s not my job, and you’ll just have to wait your turn. We’re quite busy tonight.” 

“I imagine you are, with such a beautiful woman working the floor.” He wished he sounded as confident and suave as he wanted to; instead it came out as a nervous probe, a desperate plea to continue the conversation. The woman still smiled at the compliment, at least charmed by the attempt. However, he had no idea how to follow that one-liner up. “I’m not great at flirting,” he admitted after wracking his useless mind. Exhaling shakily, he ran a hand over his hair. God, was he sweating already? “But, be that as it may, I was wondering if I could at least know your name.” 

“Yoshino,” the woman answered within a breath, slightly startling him. She grinned at his slight jump, and then reached over the counter to seductively run a finger over his sternum. All the gears in his brain screeched to a halt with that simple trace of her finger pad down the flat bone and the flutter of her eyes, gleaming with mischievousness. “And you, handsome?” 

“Sh-Shikaku Nara,” he spluttered after far too much time. The woman chuckled at his bashfulness. He gulped as her finger slipped down, down, down his sternum and then suddenly was gone as she retreated back over the counter. Holy shit, this woman will be the death of me and I’m grateful, he thought, a little lightheaded. She resumed pretending to play with the register, looking up at him through her lashes again. 

“You’re not good at flirting,” she acknowledged with a laugh. He smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck, strangely endeared by the statement. 

“Well, I just don’t believe in telling a woman what she wants to hear,” he shrugged, “just what I think.” 

“And what do you think, Shikaku Nara?” she asked, tipping up her chin challengingly. He swallowed again, wondering if he should immediately balk on his statement and tell her what she wanted to hear. He thought better of it, though; if he was anything, it was an honest man, sometimes to a fault. 

“I think that you’re the most enthralling woman that I’ve ever met and that I would love taking you out to dinner after your shift ends.” 

Yoshino stared at him a minute, somehow still surprised at his answer. Slowly, a smile worked its way onto her face. She stopped fiddling with the register to cross her arms and lean fully into the counter. His heart stuttered at the smoldering look she gave him; sweat bloomed on his skin, making him compulsively tug at the neck of his shirt as it stuck uncomfortably to him. Yet for not one second did he fear rejection, because her warm brown eyes were a chocolate galaxy bursting with excitement and joy. 

“I get off at eight,” she informed him plainly before pushing away from the bar and strutting towards the back. She did give him a little wave of farewell, however, and put an extra saunter in his hips. Shikaku smirked at her cheekiness, unable to keep from biting the tip of his tongue as he watched those hips disappear around the corner. After making sure no one was looking, he chanced a small fist pump and hissed “Yes!” to himself. 

“So?” Inoichi asked expectantly when he meandered back to the barstool. “Crash and burn?” he joked and poured Shikaku a glass of sake. Shikaku picked it up, but gave his friend a wide grin. 

“Nope. I’m afraid you two boys will have to walk home without me.” 

Choza and Inoichi exchanged excited whoops and both rapped him on the back. Shikaku winced, closing his eyes as he screwed up his face in pain. If these two keep it up, I won’t be able to walk home, he thought with a pained smile. He cracked an eye open to see Yoshino waltzing back around the corner. This time she didn’t shy away from his gaze, instead flashing him a smile and wink. Well, at least I’ll have company, he thought in amusement and sipped at the sake. Not too much, though— with a spitfire like Yoshino, he definitely had to keep his wits about him. 

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[emsxworld]

NEW CHAPTER!! 😊

Two scenes in this chapter were inspired by art created by @negativesd09 and @emkayoh, I have linked their work in the end notes. 

....

Ever since Peter Anthony Stark was born, he had become the definition of a Daddy’s boy, plain and simple. Perhaps it was because he shared two of his names with his father, or perhaps it was because his father had been there to take care of him and love him when his mother could not – whatever it was, one thing was for certain, Peter Stark absolutely adored him.

He was always smiling and giggling in delight when his Daddy was in the room. His first word had been ‘Dada’ and his first steps had been to toddle towards his astonished father when the mansion’s A.I notified the billionaire of the new progression occurring in the child’s nursery.

There was nothing Tony Stark could do wrong in Peter’s eyes. At times, he was the only one who saw through the protective layers the genius had built over the years to see the loveable; (for lack of a better word) dorky side to the apparent well put together billionaire and business tycoon.

Tony Stark wasn’t like his father. From the first time he held his new born son in his arms and gazed down in awe at the perfect little face with the tiny upturned nose, fingernails the size of a grain of rice and two beautiful dark chocolate brown eyes (an identical pigment to his own irises), he knew that he would not be Howard. He would not let his child feel neglected, worthless and the symbolism of disappointment as he had been growing up in the spotlight.

The love he had for Peter was indescribable, but those closest to him could see the irreparable bond Tony shared with his child. They were inseparable and so alike, not just in looks, but in their shared curiosity and urge to learn more, to thrive on in their own creative roots. Neither Pepper, Rhodey or Happy would ever deny that Tony was an excellent father. He had changed since Peter had arrived. The drinking and all-nighters were a relic of the past.

Now, Peter was the centre of the billionaire’s world. It hadn’t been easy at first, but the little boy who shared his eyes and his high IQ had wormed his way into the billionaire’s closed heart and Tony knew deep down that he could not live without Peter. One of the best parts about being a father was seeing the pure admiration and adoration in his child’s eyes and it was very clear even from the early days when the young Stark couldn’t even form words, that Peter felt exactly the same.

There was only one problem with this mutual strong connection the father and son shared. Peter had separation anxiety. He was incredibly susceptive to physical affection, which was all his father’s fault because the man couldn’t resist kissing those cute chubby cheeks and mop of curls on a daily basis whenever he cuddled his kid in his arms.

At the age of four, Peter hadn’t changed apart from growing a little taller and expanding his knowledge with the genius mind he had inherited from his father. He was still as adorable as ever and Tony just couldn’t resist the inevitable urge to swing his little one into the air, heart swelling with love as the boy squealed and giggled in infectious delight at the playful action, before bringing him down and planting small kisses all over his little face like there was no tomorrow. This type of hyper scene occurred on a daily basis and it was no wonder that Peter often craved this indulgent affection as he had been raised to expect it.  

Tony had been brought in a cold household with a detached and distant father. The only affection he received was from his mother and JARVIS, therefore as far as he was concerned he was entitled to ensure his own son knew that he was loved and cherished. Tony had very rarely experienced the tender, intimate moments he shared with his child when he was Peter’s age. He read to Peter, played with him, made him his breakfast, lunch and dinner and did everything with his son that Howard had missed out on.

As aforementioned, the only problem with his parenting style was that Peter couldn’t stand to be parted from him. Tony always dreaded the inevitable business meetings where he was required to be out of Malibu a couple nights at a time, because he knew his kid would be unhappy and there was nothing he could do to sway him.

His son loved Pepper, his Uncle Rhodey and Uncle Happy, but they weren’t his Daddy and no-body would ever be able to live up to the standards that his father had set. Tony never admitted it out loud, but the truth was that he hated being separated from his son too, even if it was easily perceived by Pepper when she witnessed first-hand how jittery and reserved the genius became when he couldn’t be with Peter.

It just so happened that another business meeting was just around the corner yet again. Both he and Pepper were meant to be there, and Rhodes was busy with his duties for the army, so that just left Happy to watch Peter whilst Tony was away for his eleven o’clock slot.

Happy was fond of Peter, but he wasn’t naturally attuned to children’s wants and needs and he often grumbled under his breath when he thought the others couldn’t hear when the little boy would cry or would enter his ‘bratty’ phase. It was very rare for Peter to do this, but it happened, as it did with all four-year olds from time to time.

Tony was keen to keep his boy distracted and entertained for the morning before he would have to leave. He had told Peter about the meeting when he went to wake him up early that morning with a gentle, warm hand stroking his son’s back to rouse him from his slumber and a soft kiss to his curls. The boy was too lethargic to properly take the meaning behind his father’s words in and had mumbled some incoherent words at the mention of the business meeting, before rolling onto his back and snuggling into the man’s sturdy chest, nuzzling his face into the crook of his Daddy’s neck.

Tony huffed a laugh at the gesture, well used to Peter being pretty unresponsive and even more clingy when he first woke up and the billionaire was only too obliged to hold his kiddo close and carry him to the kitchen to make some blueberry pancakes together and forget their worries. Heading down to the lab was the next point on the agenda.

The workshop underneath the main floor of the mansion was their favourite place. It had always been Tony’s main area of expertise, of course, as it allowed him to indulge in his genius ideas and creations and it was where he felt most at home.

As Peter was his little shadow, naturally that meant that the father had had to make a few changes to the lab to ensure it was safe for a baby to be in. The soft foamed area specifically designed for Peter, created by Tony, had been installed soon after his kid begun to display a certain neediness to be with his Daddy nearly twenty-four seven.

Peter didn’t spend all his time in his highly efficient playpen though. That was only reserved for times when his father was working on something dangerous like tasering some loose wires or working with small intricate designs which required tiny bolts and gadgets that were liable for little feet to accidentally tread on. Peter spent many a time in his father’s arms when the man wasn’t working with his hands, sitting in his Daddy’s lap and basking in the warmth and comfort that only a parent could provide.

When his son was a baby, Tony would often sit cross-legged on the floor, cradling the little one in his arms and browsing through online articles and profiles about particular topics and public figures. Peter loved the blue glow that came from the screens that seemed to float in mid-air…

…

…“Da!” The baby chirped, waving one small chubby arm at a photo of an old car model from the 1960s which the billionaire was interested in buying.

“Mhm,” Tony hummed, lifting his son so he was standing on the man’s legs to see the picture better. “What do you think, Pete? A worthy investment?” He asked, resting his chin on the top of the boy’s fuzzy chestnut curls.

Peter didn’t answer with any coherent words, but he babbled enthusiastically whilst waving his little fist, drool trailing down his chin.

The father deciphered that the only reason why his kid was drawn to this 1967 Shelby Cobra model was because it was blue. It was the colour of Peter’s nursery walls, even though this was a royal blue instead of the sky shade his room boasted, but it was smart lick of paint, Tony would give it that.

“A fitting endorsement if I ever saw one,” the billionaire remarked, tilting his chin to place a quick kiss to the top of the boy’s head, before leaning round the small body to wipe away the trail of drool with the sleeve of his long-sleeved Metallica top. The baby squirmed and wriggled but didn’t whimper as he was used to the man fretting over him. “You’re a little dork, you know?” He teased.

Peter’s little face broke into a big slobbery grin at his father’s playful tone and the tickly feeling of the beard which was scratching against the side of his face as the man leaned close to him.

He burst into a fit of giggles, Tony’s favourite sound in the world, which spurred him to grin and snigger at how perfect his little boy really was, nuzzling his face against Peter’s and scattering loads of small kisses all over his baby’s face.

“Yeah, you’re a crazy monkey, aren’t you? Crazy baby,” Tony joked between kisses, heart swelling with warmth when his kid squealed with laughter and wriggled even more.

Peter babbled some other incoherent words, but his delighted laughter was enough. Tony chuckled, warmly, rubbing his face against the little tuft of hair and closing his eyes as he inhaled the sweet smell of the apple scented shampoo he had applied the night before and something that was distinctly Peter.

“Love you, baby,” the father murmured after a few moments once the boy’s infectious giggles had reduced and the gummy smile was all that remained. Peter snuffled and cooed, nuzzling into the man’s warmth and the two remained down in the lab for the rest of the day.

Pepper found them a few hours later in a rather unresponsive state. Tony was splayed out in the playpen, top discarded beside him and Peter was lying on his bare chest.

Both were sleeping soundly, cute little snuffles escaping the baby as he nuzzled into the spot right above his father’s heart and the man’s hand was resting protectively on the child’s back, jaw slackened in his relaxed state but the steady grip on his son never faltering.

Pepper downright cooed at the sight and immediately asked JARVIS to take a photo and a video; smirking when he replied with an almost response that could almost be described as fond (even though it was technically an AI): “I already have, Miss Potts.”

…

Tony loved that picture. He had plenty of photos in a file named ‘Peter Anthony Stark’, where JARVIS had been like his own personal cameraman; always being there to capture the moments, but that photo definitely had to be in the billionaire’s top five that they had collected over the past four years.

Lab time was still special, especially as Peter was big enough now to sit at his own desk and work on drawings or small DIY projects, whilst the genius tinkered a few feet away. It was the perfect way to keep his kid occupied for the morning until Happy arrived.

After devouring the blueberry pancakes, Tony scooped Peter up into his arms, licking his finger and wiping away the syrup which had spilled down the boy’s chin.

“Okay, I know you love your old man’s cooking like a champ, but you wanna try actually getting it in your mouth next time, buddy?” Tony teased, light-heartedly, tickling underneath his kid’s chin, eliciting approving giggles from the little boy as he squirmed uncontrollably in his father’s hold. “You crazy demon child,” the man remarked, indulgently, bouncing the boy on his hip and tickling across his little tummy as he wandered over to the staircase leading down to the lab.  

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” Peter chirped, grinning from ear to ear and practically squealing when he realised where his father was leading them.

“Peter, Peter, Peter!” Tony replied on an instant, chuckling at the bright shine in his son’s doe eyes.

“Daddy, I wanna, I wanna dress up as you! I wanna be you!” He was vibrating with excitement, bouncing a couple of times as he was barely able to contain his enthusiasm.

“Really? You wanna look like Daddy today?” Tony commented in mirth, smirking at his kid as he typed the pass code into the security panel. Peter was currently in his space themed pyjama top and bottoms, but he had his trainers on just in case there were sharp objects on the floor.

“Mhm! Wanna be like you!” Peter expressed, enthusiastically with a serene nod, as if it was the most ordinary, everyday request. It definitely was for the son of Iron Man.

“Alright, kiddo. We’ll muck about down here for a bit and then we’ll get you in your armour,” Tony joked, thinking about the Iron Man styled onesie hanging up in the boy’s wardrobe.

They didn’t do anything too complicated as it was still early, and Peter was still tired, even though one wouldn’t know it by looking at the ecstatic ball of energy, but Tony knew that it wouldn’t be long until he crashed with the way his crazy kid was going on. The genius asked JARVIS to play some soft pop music for background noise and he let Peter sit in his lap as he sat in front of the monitors and messed about on the internet and make notes on his upcoming projects for an hour or two.

It was getting closer to eleven and Tony’s heart sunk as he realised he would have to leave Peter soon, which was made even worse because of how perfect the morning had been up until this point. He wanted to make things as smooth as possible by keeping his son entertained, but it almost seemed to have backfired back onto the man since he would have to ruin the relaxed, peaceful mood he had created.

Tony sighed, deeply, ruffling his son’s curls in the process from where his chin was resting on top of his head. He clicked off the document he had been working on and tilted his head to gaze down at his son, who was fiddling with an Iron Man action figure and one in the shape of an alien, making cute little “pow!” and “bang!” sounds as he made them fight each other.

The man brought his lips down and blew a small raspberry on the spot behind the boy’s ear, provoking him to snort and burst into peals of laughter, leaning against his father’s chest.

“Daddy silly!” He giggled.

Tony chuckled, warmly, hugging his kid close as he nuzzled his hair affectionately. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!”

He watched on fondly as Peter played with his fingers where his hand was resting on the boy’s tummy. His hand looked so big on his child’s small body and the innocent curiosity displayed by someone so young was incredibly endearing to the elder.

“You wanna get dressed, buddy?” Tony murmured into his son’s curls after a couple moments of just watching his kid observe his hands like he was seeing them for the first time. It was adorable and Stark never thought that he would describe something like that in his entire life. Stark men didn’t create adorable things; somehow Peter existed.

“I be like you now?” The boy asked, peering up at him with an excited grin on his face, adoration for his father shining in his brown eyes and Tony couldn’t help but feel blessed.

He smiled, indulgently, bending to drop a kiss to his son’s fore-head. “Anytime you want, kiddo,” he chuckled, swinging the boy into the air playfully and blowing another raspberry on his little pudgy belly as the pyjama top rose up from the sudden move and Peter squealed in delight, kicking his legs in his exhilaration.

Before he had his baby, Tony hadn’t been one for physical affection or physical contact at all for that matter. He never liked people handing him things and it was always Happy, Pepper or Rhodes who dealt with the personal one to one contact with investors and journalists. He had become so accustomed to behaving this way that upon the discovery that he had fathered a child, his first reaction was fear. He rarely opened up to anybody and the idea that he suddenly had a tiny human being to care for and raise terrified him.

The incredible thing was that Peter made it easy. He had literally fallen in love. Pepper liked to joke that her boss had become smitten with his kid ever since he first laid eyes on him and Tony didn’t even have the heart to argue. All of it belonged to Peter and he wouldn’t know it yet, but in a few years, Pepper would enter his heart too and he would finally open up fully to someone other than his son.

Until then, Peter would be the sole receiver of Tony’s physical affections. That’s what made the whole leaving predicament so much harder, because Peter relied on him for so much and only Tony knew all the little details about what his son liked and disliked, what he was afraid of, what brought him the greatest joys in life…he could go on and on. Even though it physically pained the genius to hear his child crying for him, he knew that Peter couldn’t live like this forever and they would have to get used to living their own lives as the boy grew older.

Tony carried the little one to his bedroom, heart sinking and stomach churning with dread as he placed the boy on his feet beside his bed and headed over to the wardrobe to grab the Iron Man onesie. He wasn’t ready for the next conversation he had to have with the gleeful little boy currently bouncing on the balls of his feet at the prospect of dressing up like his Daddy and blissfully believing that they were going to be spending the whole day together, but deep down the billionaire knew that it had to be done.

When he turned back around, he couldn’t help the warm smile that graced his features as his amusement caused the laugh lines around his dark eyes to crease and his lips to perk upwards, because Peter had taken the initiative to remove all of his clothes himself.

“You’re a terrific helper, buddy,” Tony chuckled, kneeling down to be at his son’s height so he could ask him to raise one leg to slip the onesie over his body, but he stopped to pull the boy’s underwear back up again. “Sorry, Pete, gotta keep yourself tucked away during the day,” he sniggered.

“Nuh uh! ‘m gonna be naked!” Peter giggled.

“Not gonna happen, pal. We want you to look your best for when Uncle Happy comes, right?” Tony said, pulling the onesie up over his kid’s shoulders and zipping it up. The comment left a bitter, sour taste in his mouth as it cemented the fact that he would be leaving his son in little more than half an hour.

“We goin’ out with Uncie Happy?” Lordy, this was going to be fun…

Tony smoothed the wrinkled fabric down and gently gripped the boy’s arms. “No, bud, you remember what I told you this morning when I woke you up? Your Uncle Happy is coming to spend some time with his favourite nephew whilst Daddy goes for his meeting,” he spoke softly and reassuringly, although it didn’t do him any favours because the moment his words left his lips, the boy’s face immediately scrunched up and his bottom lip trembled.

“No,” Peter whimpered. “Daddy stay with Peter.”

Jesus, the poor kid only now seemed to notice that the man was dressed smartly in one of his expensive suits.

Tony’s heart broke at his kid’s trembling voice and his little plea, as tears formed in his eyes. The father reached up with one hand to cup his child’s soft cheek and catch a fallen tear on his thumb as it fell.

“I’m sorry, baby, I wish I could. You know that I would stay and play with you all day if I didn’t have important work to see to,” the man explained.

“But Auntie Pep can do your work and you stay here?” Peter said, toying on his bottom lip with his pointer finger as his big doe eyes begged the man to stay with him. God, this kid was so damn smart, but he was so damn innocent still.

Despite the gloominess of the situation, Tony couldn’t help but chuckle at his kid’s optimism. “It’s not that simple, honey. Pepper isn’t the head of the company, so there are some things that she can’t do, but guess who can?”

“You,” the little boy mumbled, reaching up to rub at his nose as he sniffled.

The billionaire smiled, sadly, rubbing his hands up and down his son’s arms in what he hoped would be a comforting gesture. “Exactly, buddy, good job. If I don’t show up, then I would get a big telling off and you wouldn’t want that to happen to Daddy, right?”

“No…”

Tony couldn’t stand the completely dejected look on his kid’s usually beaming face; it felt like his insides were being ripped apart. “C’mon, Petey, lemme see that billion-dollar smile,” he coaxed, tickling the boy’s ribs and under his arm pits, two sensitive areas which never failed to get the little one giggling hysterically.

Peter only fidgeted a bit at the move, a stubborn pout protruding on his lips and he crossed his arms to effectively stop his father’s tickling and the elder had no choice but to take his hands away and raise an eyebrow at his kid’s attitude.

“If you can’t stay with me, then Daddy take Peter with!” The boy suddenly announced, tone completely deadpan and leaving no room for argument.

It was quite the statement from a four year-old child, but it amused the father because his kid sounded so much like him. He was just as stubborn and enthusiastic once he got an idea in his head and Peter clearly thought that he had just come up with a brilliant idea, judging by the satisfied glint in his eye, refusing to back down.

“I don’t know about that, buddy.” He couldn’t stop the huge smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, hands gently resting on his son’s hips as he spoke. “A lot of business people don’t like kids, they’re nasty old men who don’t care about anyone, especially little boys like you. You wouldn’t want to sit in a boring room with dudes like that, would you?”

Peter shook his head, his determination not once wavering even if the idea of scary old people scrutinising him did give the child some sense of anxiety. He didn’t care, he only wanted to be with his Daddy.

“I be with Daddy, bad guys don’ matter,” he stated. His fierce attempt at a serious expression was adorable, if not slightly worrying to the concerned father.

Tony caught his bottom lip between his teeth, eyebrows narrowing as he studied his kid for a moment in pure disbelief. He wasn’t usually left speechless by anybody and always managed to have the last word, but he was pretty much flawed. His four year-old had stunned him, but he supposed it wasn’t the first time Peter had done this, the little bugger had made him incredibly soft and Tony knew it.

He sighed through his nose, leaning forward to scoop the boy up into his arms, staring into his child’s eyes in admiration at his valiant efforts. He supported his son’s lower half with one arm as he playfully bopped his kid’s nose with the other hand, causing it to scrunch up as Peter giggled at the gesture.

“You’re incredible, Pete. Four years old and you’re already leaving your Dad lost for words, what is the world coming to, huh?” Tony spoke, jovially, shaking his head in wonder.

“Love Daddy!” Peter chirped, sweetly.

A soft look crossed the billionaire’s face, paternal love for his child glimmering in his chocolate brown eyes and he leaned forward to rub his nose against the boy’s, giving him an Eskimo kiss. Peter loved these kisses the most and he was in a fit of giggles immediately, squealing with delight at his father’s affections.

“Sir, Mr Hogan has arrived,” JARVIS suddenly announced. Perfect timing.

“Thanks, J,” Tony murmured, pressing a kiss to his son’s fore-head and making his way out of the boy’s room and down to the foyer. He braced the back of his kid’s head, allowing him to cuddle close since it was the least he could do, because he knew that he was in for one hell of a goodbye in a few moments.

Happy was just walking through the front door when father and son arrived, tucking the car keys into his pocket.

“Hey, Hap. Good drive?”

“As good as it can be. How’s the kid?” The driver asked, gaze drifting to the boy in his best friend’s arms. The sight certainly wasn’t anything new for him, especially when his boss had a business meeting.

“Sulking,” Tony smirked, bouncing his kid gently on his hip, who refused to move his face from the crook of the man’s neck.

“He been good his morning?”

“As good as he can be,” Tony retorted with a cheeky wink and a mischievous smirk. “Nah, he’s been great. He’s just a little cutie-pie, aren’t you, pal?” He spoke with a high lift in his voice, bouncing his kid and tickling across the boy’s rib cage, eliciting some high pitched squeals and bombastic laughter as Peter finally removed his face from the man’s neck.

“There he is, there’s my handsome little guy,” Tony beamed, pleased that his son was now smiling brightly. Speaking too soon… “Hey, Pete, Uncle Happy’s here, you wanna say hi?”

“Hey, buddy,” Happy greeted, walking up to the two with a kind smile.

“Hi, Uncie Happy!” Peter waved and reached over to give the driver a hug, Tony taking the opportunity to transfer the boy into the other man’s arms. Happy squeezed the child warmly and caught his friend’s eye, who smiled sadly and reached over to gently stroke his son’s hair.

Tony leaned in to press a quick kiss to the top of his kid’s head, murmuring in his ear, “See you soon, kiddo. Love you.”

He should have just left as soon as he placed Peter in Happy’s arms, because what followed was definitely all on him. He hated leaving his kid just as much as Peter detested it and it probably would have been better if he had just snuck out, so he didn’t have to put them both through the heavy emotions that came with their separation.

The moment the low goodbye left his lips, Peter suddenly burst into tears. His chest heaved dangerously with his heavy sobs and hitching breaths, both arms reaching out for Tony desperately.

“N-no, D-Dada, don’t go!” Peter howled, cries only increasing as he made grabby hands at his Daddy, whose pained expression caused Happy to make the quick decision to transfer the hysterical child back into his father’s arms. His wailing still persisted even when he was as close as he could be to the man.

“Sh, sh, shh, come on, baby, it’s alright. Shhh, it’s okay, I’m right here, Daddy’s here, sweetheart, shh…” Tony hushed, quietly, subconsciously rocking his son and nuzzling his fluffy curls, affectionately, placing delicate kisses across flushed cheeks and temples. The poor kid was bawling, his face bathed in tears and his grip on his father’s suit jacket exceedingly tight for one so small.

Happy watched on worriedly, eyebrows raised in concern at the boy’s complete meltdown. Tony usually managed to leave before things got this ugly, as Happy, Pepper or Rhodes were able to distract the kid with his Legos or some kind of game, so he wouldn’t bring out the waterworks like this. It wasn’t often that Tony got dragged away to these damn business meetings, so he supposed that it was just too much for the kid this time, as it had been a while since the man had been called away and it explained the extreme outburst from Peter.

The kid eventually managed to calm himself, but it took several minutes of Tony cradling him, rocking him and murmuring sweet nothings into the boy’s hair for Peter’s heart-wrenching sobs to reduce in their volume. He was still crying softly into his Daddy’s shoulder, begging for him to stay.

“Alright, screw this,” Tony spoke after a few more minutes, voice hoarse and rough as he stroked the back of his son’s head whilst continuing to bounce him with his other hand. “I’m taking him with and you’re driving.”

“Wait, you’re what?!” Happy exclaimed.

“There’s no fu-freaking way I’m leaving him here. C’mon, buddy, let’s get your toy,” Tony said, leaving no room for argument, as he hefted the boy higher on his hip and headed back towards Peter’s bedroom. Happy was left standing in the hallway, completely flabbergasted.

The billionaire didn’t relinquish his hold on his son as he allowed the boy to reach for his Iron Man figure, but before he could dash back to Happy, Peter’s squeals of protest stopped him.

“What is it, Pete? We’re gonna be late.”

“Want my crayons, Daddy!”

Tony sighed, grabbing the colourful box that was sat on Peter’s dresser and a little notebook, stuffing them in the inside pocket of his suit jacket, before making his way back to the foyer. He didn’t care that he shouldn’t be giving in to his kid’s desires like this; he couldn’t stand listening to those horrible cries and begging anymore, and he figured it would just be easier for everybody if he brought Peter with. He could worry about what the board members would think later.

“Right, let’s go,” Tony ordered, slightly breathless from all the running around, but he was pleased when the driver simply shrugged and followed him to the car. He could always count on Happy to just trust his judgement and go along with whatever he came up with, even if it was ridiculous.

Tony climbed into the back seat, sitting Peter in his lap and pulling the seatbelt over the both of them. He was exhausted, emotionally and physically and he didn’t have the heart to force the kid into his own seat, not after the huge meltdown he had just witnessed. Happy immediately pressed the button to slide the privacy screen up the moment father and son got themselves settled.

Peter appeared pretty content with their seating arrangements, sitting sideways on his father’s lap with his legs stretched out across the next seat and a small smile on his face as he nuzzled it into the man’s sturdy chest. Tony was aware that it wasn’t the safest position for the boy to be in, but he trusted Happy to get them safely to this damn meeting and there was no way the genius was letting his kid leave his arms now after their eventful morning. He felt like he was going to get whiplash soon with all this hot and cold, but he supposed this was what it was like having a little human that took after him.

Tony was drawn out of his thoughts when he felt Peter rummaging inside his suit jacket, fishing out two crayons, one bright red and the other yellow. His other hand was still accommodated with clutching onto his Iron Man figure, which he held close to his chest as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

“What’re you up to, buddy?” Tony asked, fondly, gaze soft as he watched the boy.

“Dwawing,” Peter said and before the man had a chance to decipher what on earth his son was saying, his kid reached up and drew a big red line down his father’s cheek.

Tony should have pulled away, any normal person would if they were expected to look their best at an important business meeting in less than ten minutes. No. The only movement he made was to smile, affectionately, allowing Peter to colour all over his face. God knows what he was mapping out, but Tony simply gave him the freedom to do it.

“We match now, Daddy,” Peter giggled after a few more minutes, giving a little bounce of excitement in his father’s lap as he beamed proudly.

Tony raised an eyebrow at this and took his phone out of his pocket to get the camera up and observe his reflection. Peter had attempted to draw a replica of the Iron Man mask with about as much accuracy and detail a four year-old could muster. It was pretty hilarious considering the fact that if Peter really wanted him to take on his alter ego image, he could have just pressed a button on his StarkWatch and the armour would be there in less than five seconds.

The genius scoffed at his very narcissistic image, but there was no possibility that he was going to spoil his kid’s enjoyment, so he simply cuddled him close and kissed his little nose. “Good boy, you did a great job,” he murmured, resting his fore-head against his son’s and smiling when Peter hummed happily at the praise.

Despite Happy’s excellent driving, they still turned up at the offices about fifteen minutes late into the two hour meeting and Tony gave a little sigh as they pulled up around the back. He secured his hold on his son and climbed out the car, giving his friend an appreciative pat on the shoulder, before dashing into the reception area.

The female receptionist gave him a strange, yet slightly bemused look, but he wasn’t surprised considering the current state of the normally well presented Tony Stark and his young son who was usually kept out of the public eye. A small smile quirked at the corner of her lips as her gaze trailed over the drawing on his face, but she politely chose not to comment on it and sign them in.

Tony took the lift to the top floor, tapping his foot impatiently as he watched the number dial slowly increase.

“Daddy?”

“Hm?”

“Will you still be in twouble?” Peter asked, blinking up at him with wide curious, innocent eyes. “Late?”

“Naahh, I’ve got my armour on. Nothing can get through that, you’re keeping me safe, kiddo,” Tony chuckled, brushing some hair back from his son’s fore-head, who grinned at the comment.

As soon as the doors binged open, the billionaire was off like a shot towards the correct room, not even pausing to knock and instead opting to head straight in. The door banged against the wall as it was slammed open and every head in the room whipped towards the source of the sudden loud noise, many jumping upright in their seats.

“Sorry I’m late. Peter was a nightmare this morning,” Tony said, walking over to the nearest free seat, which happened to be right next to Rhodes.

Everyone was too stunned to speak at the baffling sight of their boss with crayon all over his face and his child dressed in what appeared to be Iron Man pyjamas, clutching an Iron Man figure in his hand as he played with it quietly and ignored the onlookers.

Tony collapsed in the chair, sitting Peter on the table so that he was facing him, and he could give his arms a rest. He didn’t even need to look in his best friend’s direction to know that he was currently on the receiving end of one hell of a perplexed stare.

“Don’t even ask,” was all the exhausted genius could muster, only glancing at him in the corner of his eye.

“Tony…” Pepper, who was standing at the front and had been leading the presentation, sighed vehemently, bracing the side of her face with her hand in despair.

It would be many years later when those closest to Peter would look back on that bizarre turn of events fondly and they would always view the day that Tony Stark decided to take his clingy son to a business meeting as one of the best examples of the billionaire being a great parent. Tony liked to secretly agree.

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