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gaitwae · 4 years

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Beyond Words, Darling •||• 4

Summary: With what started as a dream, Mary Crawley realizes just in the nick of time that her new love is the last person she expected. (canon defiant season 5 afterwards)

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Lilies and rice. White filling his vision. Robert’s supportive and proud smile from the crowd. Mrs. Branson. New gold on Tom’s finger, clapping filling his ears. A sense of new joy, the sense that Sybil understood how happy that damned woman made him.

She would spin in a gorgeous dress, dancing with George and Sybbie. Marigold in Edith’s lap. Tom, sitting as his chest swelled with pride, beaming at the beautiful mother playing with her children. His children. Cousins and siblings. Uncle, father. Stepfather. Husband.

He would walk to embrace his bride…

Tom sat, clicking his nails against the wooden desk in the library’s office desk. It had been a week since Mary told him that she was considering accepting Lord Gillingham’s proposal, and Rose’s party was only hours away. He knew what Rose was planning.

He knew what she was up to. He couldn’t let her follow through, but he wanted Mary to be happy. Even if it meant some racecar-driving idiot who constantly reminded her of Matthew’s death. If it meant Mary was indescribably happy, he would push for it until he died.

But Tony Gillingham… the damn bastard, so arrogant. Thinking he could just woo Mary with fancy words? It made his blood boil. Tom at least knew he had nothing but effort to offer Mary. He had no more than what he offered Sybil.

Tom couldn’t grasp why the bloody hell he let Rose’s plan take place. He couldn’t understand why having him make Tony Gillingham jealous was productive! The thought of displaying his affections as false… well…

It made him anxious; angry.

Not only that, but this game had been tossed around back and forth, deepening his feelings. He was bursting at the seams to ask her for some sort of resolution —

“Tom?” a lovely, worrying voice asked him, stopping the flow of his river of thoughts.

“Hm?” He snapped back into reality, locking eyes with Mary. They had been talking about something, although he couldn’t recall what it was. He was never paying attention to her words, anyway. Just the sound of her voice. “I’m sorry; I’m distracted over the party.”

Mary gave a small, short laugh. “I asked if you’d save me a dance; it’s quite alright.”

“Mary, I’ll always save you a dance.” He playfully winked at the woman, his lips tugging into a smile. The smile, though genuine, felt like a mask. It took him a moment to figure out why — America had seemed as far away as the stars.

He ducked his head, ashamed.

“Golly… am I that bad of a dancer?” Mary asked quietly. Tom must have looked disappointed. He was. He didn’t want to leave Downton, or England, or the Crawleys, or Mary. He didn’t want to leave his best friend. Possibly more than that.

If he really was in love with her, he would have to leave. His heart squeezed tightly as he prepared to tell her.

“I’ve been thinking,” he mumbled. He took her hand, again, like at dinner days ago. Mary let herself be comfortable with the contact. He found his heart leapt at her tiny smile and happy eyes. He smiled back — he was compelled to.

“What about? Can I help?”

“About… starting over.” Tom braced himself.

Lady Mary’s eyebrows knit together, and her grip on his fingers became loose. “What? Tom, I don’t understand,” Mary told him, shaking her head. “Start over?”

“I want opportunity,” he explained. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat away. He bit his lip and stood to kneel next to the noble, stubborn woman he had grown to adore. “I want Sybbie to have a good life; one where she can be happy, darling.” He took her other hand, lacing their fingers.

“Can she not be happy here?” Mary asked. Her offense was apparent on her face, in her voice. She ripped her hand away from Tom’s immediately. Her eyes were shining, tinted red from tears.

“Darling, no, I didn’t mean that — I didn’t ,” Tom frantically tried, taking her hand, again, kissing her knuckles. Neither of them should have ignored how he could call her darling , something so intimate. How they sat in a way they begging for the other, in a way where words couldn’t express how badly they wanted each other. How… how…

“What did you mean?” Mary cried quietly, shaking her head. “You’re not making sense.”

“I just want a simple life for Sybbie,” he whispered. He wiped her eyes. “I want to take her to Am—”

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Robert said, arching a brow. “Is everything alright?”

Mary was the first to stand up. “Everything is fine.” She didn’t fake a smile. She didn’t use a nasty tone. She was vulnerable, but strong: she was Tom’s Mary. She wiped her nose gently and left the room with a brisk walk. The loud slam of the door was the only thing that really conveyed her anger.

“You’re going to explain why I walked in to see you holding my eldest daughter’s hands,” Robert said strongly, turning to face Tom once the door had been shut for a few seconds. “Right now.”

The first thought Tom had was Thank God he didn’t see I kissed them, too. He exhaled deeply. He didn’t realize he had been holding his breath until then. “I told her I was considering leaving Downton,” he began. “I was trying to get her to calm down.”

“Hm.” Robert stared at his feet, then back up at Tom. “Are you?”

Instantaneously, he wanted to say ‘No!’ Branson wanted to run away and tell Mary he was going to propose to her instead of bring up America — propose ? What the bloody hell ? — but he simply nodded. His trembling lip was the only thing giving him away.

“Then it’s a shame,” Robert sighed. He set a hand on Tom’s shoulder. “You’re like my son, Tom. And even though Sybil was your wife, I think you’re quite alright to love anyone you want.”

“That’s just it, Lord Grantham,” he said, barely audible. A tear slipped from his eye onto his cheek. “I can’t bear this feeling.”

“What feeling, exactly?” Robert asked more questions under that one, with even more questions on his face.

“I can’t bear to think of leaving. But I can’t stand being the odd man out,” Tom said, forcing a smile. He felt like screaming, instead. He moved his hands to emphasize his desperation. “I also want Sybbie to find out who she is in a land of nothing but opportunity; I’ll miss Mary, but I need to at least see what America has.”

Robert smiled sadly. “Just Mary?”

Tom would have laughed along, but instead he closed his eyes and sucked his teeth as he silently cursed himself for slipping up. Robert turned Tom to face him.

“I’m sorry. I hadn’t realized quite how much you had…” The second-oldest Crawley trailed off, digging his fingers into Tom’s shoulders in support.

“I’ve been trying to forget,” he said meekly. He felt small; he wanted a hug; he wanted to cry to someone. But he didn’t want to sob in front of his father-in-law. “I see her the way Sybil saw her: terrified of being picked apart and discarded, yet so, so beautiful. I see all the good qualities that she lets come through.” He took a shaky breath.

“You’re really in love with Mary, then?”

Tom sucked in a slow inhale. “I know it’s not right, but I know this feeling. If she doesn’t feel the same, I will have to leave… even for just a little while.” He tried to stand as still as possible.

“My boy, it may not be orthodox, but I haven’t seen anything so right since your spouses walked the earth!” Robert laughed joyfully. He pulled Tom into a tight embrace. “Cora will be so happy to hear that she was right —”

“I would prefer if you didn’t say anything until it’s on my terms,” Tom said quietly, slowly and carefully hugging back. “Please?”

“Yes! Yes, I won’t say a thing.”

+-+--

Mary didn’t know how long she was crying. She just sat in a small room she didn’t recognize because of the large wells of tears, stifling sobs. Tom? Leaving? He would leave her! George would miss his uncle and his cousin! Mary would miss Tom and her niece.

“Mary? Mary, are you alright?”

Mary jumped. She gripped her heart through her chest. Granny came into the room. “Oh… it’s just you. I’m sorry to burden you, but you have to help me.”

#Gaitwae writes #Brary #Tom branson #Mary Crawley #Downton Abbey #Rare pairs

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comeandreadawhile · 6 years

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Congrats, It’s a Spider-Boy

Marvel MCU

3,735 Words

While trying to help explain electrophoresis, Tony and Peter don’t quite get the results they’d expected to receive.

Pepper had, like most nights recently, been thankful for having bought enough groceries to prep another batch of the recipe used for dinner. While teenagers were known to be voracious eaters, she was quite sure very few boys in the world found themselves as in need of calories as Peter. She enjoyed having him and his aunt over for dinner, or any meal really, and seeing Peter eat his fill.

She took another bite of her own food while thinking back to how livid Tony had been when told the boy had nearly fainted at eight stories up because Peter had been too busy to grab either breakfast or lunch that day. Pepper also recalled calling May Parker in her own fit of concern following being informed of Peter’s hazardous decision to still patrol, and quite quickly the boy found himself with a snack pouch in his suit.

Looking back up to see the two heroes discussing Peter’s day, special attention being awarded to his advanced biology class, she couldn’t help a small smile that tugged at her lips. The two could’ve been related with how similar they looked; while Peter’s hair may have been lighter by a shade, it still reminded her of how Tony’s looked on the days he forewent any styling products. She could pinpoint similarities in the sharp edges and rounder curves of their faces; most similar were the brown eyes.

Peter’s were the same earthy shade of brown as Tony’s, but as she’d been told, the boy had inherited his eyes and their shape from his mother, Mary. Glancing over to where May was also quietly enjoying her food and the boys’ banter, Pepper could see the fondness in her eyes for her nephew. She could agree; it was hard not to be enamored with such a sweet kid. As Peter rattled on about what his class had been learning in way of DNA and its analysis, she could see the positive effect the boy had had on Tony’s mood just from how the billionaire looked at him. Pepper realized she must’ve been spacing out when May’s voice broke through her thoughts and the boys’ conversation.

“What does that big science word mean, exactly?” it was evident from her grin that May didn’t take any offense to being left out of the conversation, but Peter’s cheeks and ears turned pink anyway.

“Something to do with electricity? We aren’t going over it until Tuesday so I don’t really know.”

Tony took a sip of water before chiming in, “Electrophoresis basically means ‘stick this sample in some gel, electrocute it, and it’ll break up the proteins and such so new mothers and the police can find out who did what’.”

Peter nodded, though looking curious of the process before adding on, “Yup, what he said. Exactly that.” His statement received a snort from Tony.

“I can have a machine delivered in a couple days; you can come back up and I’ll show you how it works and how to read the bands somewhat accurately.” Peter’s entire being seemed to light up at the proposal, and the vigorous nod he gave was all the answer Tony seemed to need before telling F.R.I.D.A.Y. to place an express order. Both women chuckled and shook their heads fondly before turning their attention back to their plates.

Happy had been less than pleased where upon delivering Peter to the lab a few days later he’d also been asked for a small blood sample. ‘For science, of course,’ he mocked, all the while still taking the lancet and Tony’s offer of the rest of the day off.

Peter did homework while waiting for Tony to finish prepping the samples for the smaller-than-expected machine on the next table over (while still explaining what he was doing), all the while finding some humor in his and Tony’s matching racecar Band-Aids on their fingers; he didn’t fail to point out when given the bandage that ‘of course Tony Stark has racecar Band-Aids’. “Why not enjoy the small things in life like fun Band-Aids?” Tony had responded, to which Peter could only nod his assent.

At the sound of something on the machine shutting, Peter perked up to see Tony pressing some button and stepping away from the table.

“And now we wait.”

Peter cocked his head to the side, “So why did we have Happy give us a sample?”

Tony clapped his hands together, “Imagine, if you will my little Spiderling, our dear Mr. Hogan finds a limited edition box set of every season of Downton Abbey in his local second-hand store,” Tony pauses to allow Peter to let out a snort. “Now, for some reason he has none of the salary he earns and cannot simply leave this treasure for someone else to have, so he takes it. Upon making a mad dash for the exit because an employee saw him, he crashes through the automatic door before it fully opens and glass goes everywhere. Happy cuts himself, all the while keeping a tight grip on the box set, and peels out of the parking lot without anyone catching the license plate; therefore the police must resort to matching the blood left on the glass and some convenient spit on a used glass cup to catch our period-story loving thief.”

Peter gave a slow clap for the on-the-spot story, “Alright that was pretty good. Now what about my sample and yours?”

Tony pulled up a chair to the other side of the table, “We’re going to compare ours; say I’m suspicious as to the source of your boyish charm and impressive IQ so I want a paternity test done to see if I owe May over a decade’s worth of child support.”

Peter flipped his pencil between his fingers, a small smirk pulled at his mouth, “How do I know that isn’t the double motive? Help me with a biology concept and make sure you aren’t actually responsible for creating yours truly?” Tony gave him an amused side eye for the question.

“When were you conceived, again?”

The question elicited a chuckle from Peter. “Funny enough, May told me my mom came to her to tell her the good news about a month after my dad got back from a long research trip.”

Tony rose from his chair to cross around the table, “Few trimesters later and one of the finest young men I’ve ever known is born, right?” he says, ruffling Peter’s hair. “I’m gonna go ask Pepper if she wants a pizza delivered; let me know when F.R.I.D.A.Y. says the machine is done doing its thing.”

The end of a breadstick poked out of Tony’s mouth as he split up the results from the tests, Peter looking over his shoulder as he did so. Taking the half-eaten breadstick from his lips and gesturing to the identical bands of proteins to their left Tony started, “So, as we can see, the two samples from the blood and the spit on the drink prove that our dear Happy is now the forehead of box set theft. Now looking over at our sadly negative paternity test…” He trailed off, gesturing toward the other set of results with the breadstick before taking a bite from it.

Peter squinted, not from not being able to see but from confusion, “Okay so…” he began, “They don’t look terribly different. How can you tell that it’s negative?” Looking back up at Tony, Peter saw him look more closely at the results, lifting a finger to point out differences before freezing at seeing how many bands matched. Suddenly, Peter saw the older man’s eyes widen a fraction, and an almost imperceptible shiver shook his frame. “Mr. Stark?” A cold weight started to settle in Peter’s stomach from Tony’s silence.

Peter almost didn’t hear his answer.

“Because it’s not…” Tony muttered out before taking a shaky breath. “I think I might owe May that child support…” They both jumped when F.R.I.D.A.Y. took that moment to speak up.

“Congratulations, Boss. It’s a boy!”

When Tony addressed the A.I., Peter thought he sounded on the brink of losing composure. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. check any time around nine months before Peter was born that I would’ve been in proximity to Mary Parker. Cross reference those results with any times Richard Parker was documented to be away on trips longer than a few days; get back to me with what you find.”

“Yes, Boss.”

A cold wave of realization started to wash over Peter that this wasn’t some sort of prank, as Tony wasn’t one to neither play them nor act this emotional for any he did. DNA didn’t lie, but denial still rooted itself firmly in the front of Peter’s mind despite the holographic bands of proteins halfway matching between the two samples. He vaguely registered F.R.I.D.A.Y. speaking again. “Around the time Peter would’ve been conceived, you and Mary Parker were both speaking at a multidisciplinary, scientific conference in New York. The conference occurred three weeks after Richard Parker departed for a research trip to Europe, and two weeks before his return to the country.”

Peter could feel his heart pounding in his ears; there was no way F.R.I.D.A.Y. would lie about this, as blunt as she was. The implications of what she said started to merge with the holograms beginning to burn his eyes, the bright blue neon becoming less like distinct shapes and more a blurry haze. He distantly registered Tony had begun pacing behind him; trying the stave off what Peter guessed was panic.

His heart nearly leapt out of his throat when a pair of arms wrapped tightly around his middle, and Peter could feel Tony shaking against his frame. The normally confident man sounded so small, even so close to Peter’s ears.

“Peter, I’m…I didn’t know, I swear, I…”

“Mr. Stark, I—“, Peter was cut off, suddenly turned about face. Tony held him tight, and Peter’s chin rested just on Tony’s collar. He felt the older man shudder, and heard something akin to a choked sob.

“I swore if it ever happened, I’d be better than my dad. I always thought the mother would come forward, I—“ Tony’s rambling briefly cut off to allow for another shaky breath. “I can’t believe I missed fifteen years!” The apology and self-directed anger dripped from the exclamation.

Peter felt a hand move to the back of his head, and he was pressed even tighter into Tony’s shoulder; he could smell the pizza they’d ordered for dinner, and Tony’s signature cologne; a smell he’d gotten used to finding comfort in lately. Peter wasn’t going to point out that Tony shouldn’t have been sorry for something neither of them had known about, but then the fact hit Peter that most of his life has essentially been a lie. Not that blood really mattered but still, he had believed for his entire life that he was Richard Parker’s biological son, and yet here was the evidence in its bright blue holographic glory that he wasn’t. He and May technically weren’t related anyway, but she was the closest thing he’d ever had to a mother that he could remember. A terrifying thought came to him at the realization.

“Do I have to leave May?” Peter tried not to think about how choked and small his voice sounded. He found relief in the fact that instead of pulling away from him, Tony only held him tighter.

“I’m not about to take you from the only stable parent you’ve had for the last decade. Moms are important. We need to call yours about this soon…”

Peter gripped the sides of Tony’s tee-shirt as he pulled away from him. The older man sniffed and used the hand that had been on Peter’s head to wipe what beginnings of tears there were in his eyes, before using both hands to cup Peter’s face. “Fifteen years…” Peter could see Tony trying to brighten his expression, “You think I could get May to send me pictures of you growing up or would that be creepy?”

A wet laugh shook Peter’s frame, and he could feel calloused thumbs running under his eyes; he hadn’t realized he’d been tearing up. Suddenly Peter felt the weight of Tony’s chin atop his head, and once more he was settled into Tony’s shoulder. “I’m gonna make up for lost time, I swear. I’m gonna be here for you. If you thought I was overprotective before you just wait, young man!” Peter could feel the vibrations of Tony speaking where his ear pressed against the older man’s throat, and he hummed at the promises made.

“You mean it?” Peter had said it jokingly, and wasn’t prepared for how deadly serious Tony’s tone turned.

“Peter, I swear on my life I’m going to do everything I can to be a proper father to you if you’ll have me.”

Tony felt Peter clutch onto the back of his shirt, and nod furiously into his shoulder. He felt the fabric on his shoulder get wet and warm, and he chocked it up to Peter being overwhelmed (he was too) at a third father in his life. Tony knew he wasn’t the ideal role model, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to make an effort to make up for missing this kid’s childhood. Maybe in a different life Mary would’ve realized who the father of her baby was, and maybe he’d have seen Peter born, and learn to speak, and hold his hand as he took his first steps. But that was then, and here and now he had proof that the kid he pretty much accepted responsibility for as his own was in fact his baby.

Peter was his baby. Although a bit out of his character, as Peter continued soaking his shirt with tears, Tony pressed moved the boy’s bangs and pressed his lips to Peter’s temple. “I’m gonna do right by you, I promise,” he said, returning his chin to the crown of Peter’s head. As the shock of discovery slowly waned, Tony could feel the growing warmth of affection spread through his core, stronger than it ever had been previously.

“I should call May…” As he reluctantly began to let go of Peter, the boy suddenly stopped him.

“Mr. Stark?”

He’d been trying to tell Peter he could call him Tony for several weeks, but with their new discovery the formal title seemed ever more distant and hollow.

“Yeah?”

“Does this mean I get to call Vision ‘little brother’?”

The snort he let out turned into a deep laugh, and the grin Peter sported showed he was quite proud of himself.

“Absolutely, and I want you to make sure F.R.I.D.A.Y. gets a recording of Vision’s face the first time it happens.” He pushed Peter back toward his unfinished homework, knowing full well the boy wouldn’t be able to work seriously on it at the moment, as he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed May’s number. After a couple rings the other line picked up.

“Tony? It’s kinda late, is Peter alright?”

Tony let out a good-natured scoff. “I’m sure you’ll find that debatable, but I can assure you the little darling is just fine.” He could hear an amused sort of confusion enter May’s voice.

“And what does that mean? Did something happen?”

Tony could feel his stomach drop a little; he couldn’t put into words just how perfect it seemed that Peter was his, but declaring that to his aunt (really his mother, the ‘aunt’ title was essentially a formal technicality) made it so much more real, and the elated jitters were sobered and the responsibility facing him took hold. “May, before you call me crazy I can have F.R.I.D.A.Y. send you everything.”

“Um…alright? Why do you say that?”

Thinking it better to just be frank and rip off the proverbial Band-aid, Tony took a breath. “That electrophoresis demo that Pete came over for, uh, well we did a sort of DNA matching paternity test so I could show him how to tell it was negative and explain what a positive would look like. Problem—wait, no, it’s not a problem because it’s great, at least for me but anyway it wasn’t negative.” Tony waited with baited breath as May’s end of the line stayed silent. He quickly thought to add on, “F.R.I.D.A.Y. cross referenced my whereabouts in reference to Peter’s mother and Richard about when Peter should’ve been conceived and our times and places matched.”

Tony knew with his advanced senses Peter could hear May’s end of the line, or rather the lack of sound on it. After what seemed to be at least a few minutes, May spoke up.

“Not that I don’t believe you, because this doesn’t seem like something you would make up, but I would like F.R.I.D.A.Y. to send me what you’ve got in way of evidence.”

“Of course! F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“On it, Boss.”

Tony looked over to where Peter was sitting on one of the workbench’s stools, dangling his feet with a somewhat content look on his face. Tony’s eyes drifted to the holograms when May piped up.

“So…what?” She sounded a bit upset; Tony supposed she had every right to be, with her nephew not being the child of her late brother-in-law but of the man that until recently she’d not been at all fond of. “Are you going to take him?” Although he’d already answered that question, Peter still perked up on his stool.

Tony shook his head, knowing full well May couldn’t see it through the phone. “I’m not gonna take Peter out of the only constant home life he’s had for the last decade, May, and I’m not about to take him from a parent that knows what they’re doing. But I’m going to make up for lost time if you’re alright with that.” He heard May make a sound of affirmation on her end of the line before continuing. “Not that I wasn’t planning on it anyway, but leave paying for college to me. I don’t wanna cause court drama over this but I’d like a guaranteed weekend a month with Pete, in addition to every other week during the summer and every other holiday, but only ones Peter doesn’t mind spending with me. Oh, and you can expect quite the hefty child support check; if you want to stay completely out of court on this just give me a number and it’s done. Food, rent, school fees, whatever, I’ve got it. Nights you have to work, he can stay with me and Pep, not that we wouldn’t be happy to have him anyway.” Finishing off, he sent a wink Peter’s way, and the boy flashed a grin.

He heard May let out a laugh thinly laced with disbelief, “You’re serious about all this?”

“May, I have been so serious about very few things in my life. Peter was already filling this role before tonight, now I just have evidence to get my name on his birth certificate and schedule his doctor’s appointments.” He heard Peter snort on the other side of the room. “Actually we might just call Bruce so our darling baby boy doesn’t get taken away for being a spider mutant. Yeah, Bruce is a good bet…”

“Are you planning on claiming him publicly?”

Tony paused, that question wasn’t one that had gone through his mind yet. “I don’t want you guys to have to deal with paparazzi all the time, or God forbid someone tries to get Peter to get to me, and not to mention either scenario could out him as Spider-man. But, I would still claim him and let the world know he’s mine. Let’s let this one simmer.”

After May agreed and they each promised to discuss this in person the next time they met to exchange Peter, she and Tony hung up. The billionaire looked over at Peter, who was doodling on a notepad corner, and a fond smile etched itself across his face. Strolling over, Tony lifted a hand and ruffled Peter’s hair.

“I’m sure I can fight off whatever bad guys try to take me if you want to claim me publicly.” He could see Peter was filled with that same fuzzy warmth that his own body was flooded with.

“No doubt, but the point is you shouldn’t have to.” Tony watched as Peter flipped the pen between his fingers, contemplating something.

“You know, I’m still not used to calling you ‘Tony’. ‘Dad’ is a whole other can of worms to open.” Peter didn’t look uncomfortable, not really. More like he was just trying to solidify that this new reality wasn’t a dream. A smirk replaced the fond grin on Tony’s face.

“Oh, I am so taking advantage of this newfound fatherly power to give you pet names.” Peter made a face of feigned disgust, and that was all the prompt Tony needed. “Peter.”

“Yes?”

The billionaire lowered his voice an octave, “I AM YOUR FATHER!”

“NOOOOOOO!”

The night wore on with comfortable silence, just two people trying to accept a shifted reality and being content with the outcome. Eventually, Peter had started to nod off and with more warmth than amusement in his voice Tony said it was past the spiderling’s bedtime.

Peter had taken up residence in the bedroom he’d once refused along with Tony’s offer to become an avenger. After he’d changed and flopped on his bed, Tony came in with a glass of water and set it on the bedside table.

“In case you get thirsty in the middle of the night.”

Peter had thanked him groggily, and said he was looking forward to their weekend they’d decided to take together in a few weeks before snuggling into his pillow. Tony felt a small sigh leave his chest, and before he could think to stop himself he drew the teen’s Star Wars printed blankets up to his chin and ruffled his hair. “Night, son.” It was spoken with a tenderness he didn’t care to hide; it felt natural to address Peter such a way. They weren’t quite at the ‘goodnight-forehead-kisses’ stage, not for a while, Tony thought, so he straightened to leave for his own room. Just as his hand reached the doorknob, he heard, “Goodnight, dad” and that warm fuzzy feeling bloomed in his chest once again. He looked forward to being a father.

(There will be a chapter two coming...)

#iron dad #spider son #tony stark #peter parker #iron man #spider-man #brief pepper potts #brief may parker #fluff #implied cheating from Mary Parker #dad!tony #son!peter #stark!peter #marvel

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