Work Text:
You sit on the couch with a book in your lap and a cup of coffee on the end table. You’ve just put your son down for a nap and can finally get a bit of downtime for yourself. Finally, you can start up again with a book that has caught your eye.
A grumble startled you from the paragraph you were reading. You realized that you've lost track of time and have not eaten in a while. Setting the book down and getting up, you walk to the kitchen and think of what you want to snack on.
Cookies? Ice cream? Chocolate milk? Chocolate??
You shake your head. You’re not feeling anything sugary, but why are you thinking of it? A whine catches your ear and you turn your head around. Behind you is your little troublemaker, your son.
“Is something wrong?” you ask, tilting your head.
You wait for him to tell you what’s wrong, but all your boy does is nod. You know that your son isn’t a very talkative child, but you were hoping for him to say. Both of you have been working on him talking more. Your son lifts his arms in a gesture a child does when wanting to be picked up. You know what he’s asking. He wants to have nap time with his parent.
“Ok, ok. Let me get something to eat first ok?” You hum.
Your son nods and walks back to his room. A sluggish stagger catches your eye and you do all you can to not chuckle. Turning to the fridge and opening it, you look inside to see what can fill your stomach for a few hours. Sighing you close the door, pick up an apple and cut it in half. Once finished with the apple half, you pad your way to your son’s room.
Opening the door, you step in and spot your son. He's facing you and his arms are wide open. An invitation for you to crawl in and cuddle him. Huffing out a hum, you stride across the room and slip into your son’s bed. After a bit of shifting, your back is against the wall and your son is against your chest. His head is tucked against your shoulder, his breathing is evening out. You can tell your son has fallen asleep instantly.
You begin to doze. Warmth collecting from the contact between yourself and your son is starting to pull you into sleep. But, the door softly opening causes your ears to perk. You open your eyes and shift the gaze to the door and find your cute partner slipping in. You hum a little, a small smile spreading across your lips.
“He couldn’t nap.” You whisper, keeping in mind not to wake your child. “I was supposed to start dinner, but I'm a bit stuck.”
“I see. So, takeout tonight?” Your partner asks, a half-smirk on his face. For a billionaire, he’s being rather cute.
“Sure.” You stifle a yawn.
“You look tired, Snowflake.” The billionaire, your partner— romantic partner, Tony Stark snorts.
“Not tired. Just comfortable.”
“Sure.” Tony hums, turning to the door and walking towards it. “I’ll be in the shop if you need me.”
“I know, Love.” You mumble, feeling sleep pulling you.
“Love you too.” Tony hums, the soft creak of the door opening makes your ear twitch. “Love you both.”
The door creaks close and your son shifts closer to your body. You sigh and let your eyelids fall. A nap doesn’t sound too bad.