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polaroid15 · 4 years ago

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Where you invest your love, you invest your life

Summary: Turns out, even the most broken things can be mended. Or, following tragedy, Tony and Peter learn how to be a family.

Read on Ao3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/28391286

----

Tony receives the call at 11:15 on a Wednesday.

It’s from Peter. A silly picture of the kid pops up on Tony’s screen and just like clockwork it pulls him away from the project in his hands. It’s unusual for Peter to call this late and a slight ripple of worry plants a seed in the pit of his stomach. Trying to ignore it, he answers quickly.

“Hey underoos. Homework troubles?”

For a long moment, there’s only silence. So long, that Tony is up from his seat and reaching for his suit before his brain fully processes what he’s doing. His mind races as it sorts through the millions of possible precarious situations the Parker boy has landed himself in this time. Kidnapping? Bleeding out? Concussion?

“Pete?”

Usually when Peter calls, the kid talks his ear off, youthful enthusiasm getting the best of him even in his stickiest situations. Literally.

Tonight is different.

“T-tony.”

A sudden chill enters Tony’s veins and he freezes where he stands. “Hey, kiddo. Is something wrong?”

A strange sound, half laugh half sob, travels through the phone and sticks a knife into Tony’s heart. The noise breaks off into short, laboured breaths. “C-can, can you help me?”

“Yes. Yes I’m coming right now,” Tony assures as the suit closes around him. “I’m on my way. Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Okay, good. But I’ll be the judge of that. Just stay on the line, spider-kid.”

He’s in the air for eleven minutes. After a while Peter doesn’t respond no matter how many questions Tony asks, but true to his promise, he doesn’t hang up the phone.

He finds Peter sitting on the end of a crane 260 feet up in the air.

The height is dizzying, but Peter looks unfazed. He’s still as death, feet dangling loosely above millions of shining lights. His head is bowed. Tony can’t see his face.

“Peter?” Tony flies in front of the kid. He can see Peter in his entirety now, and for a reason Tony can’t explain, tears spring up and sting at his eyes. If his suit didn’t have more common sense then he did, he would have dropped right out of the sky.

Peter is covered in blood. It’s caked on his hands, travelling halfway up his forearms and staining some stupid pun on his tshirt. It’s under his nails and smeared on his face.

He’s not in his suit.

“Kid-” Tony gapes breathlessly as Peter stares up at him blankly. His young face is red and blotchy, and from the city lights stretched far down below Tony can see his cheeks are streaked with tears. “You said you weren’t hurt!”

At this, Peter’s bottom lip trembles violently and he bites it until it bleeds. There’s something clenched so tightly in Peter’s bloodstained hand that his knuckles are white.

“Pete, you’re scaring me. You gotta tell me what’s wrong.”

Perhaps despite himself, a sharp sob escapes Peter’s mouth. He hunches over himself and Tony catches him at his shoulders. “Tell me where you’re hurt.”

“It’s not my blood.”

Peter’s voice is empty and cold. Tony lifts open his faceplate and stares deeply into Peter’s eyes, but somewhere there’s a disconnect. Slowly, Peter uncurls his fingers from the object he’s been so desperately holding and Tony breaks their eye contact to look.

Amongst the red, a flash of gold and translucent glass. A pair of glasses. They belong to May.

All the air leaves Tony’s chest in one fatal blow. The noise from the city and the cold from their height disappears in an instant. All he can see is Peter’s face, something deep and foreign filling Tony’s chest like a flash flood.

“Oh. Peter-”

Tony isn’t sure who initiates it, but in the next second they’re hugging fiercely. Peter grips him so tightly that if he weren’t wearing his armour he’d be broken. Peter is shaking against him, and only after a second can he decipher through the sudden static in his ears that Peter is sobbing.

He’s not sure how long they stay there. An eternity, maybe. It doesn’t matter.

They’re family now.

---

The first few days are really hard.

Peter lays in bed but he doesn’t sleep. He barely eats. He stares sightlessly and cries. He never lets go of May’s glasses.

After the funeral, it gets better. Peter leaves his room and sits at the table and smiles, even if it doesn’t reach his eyes. He watches movies with Tony but he doesn’t laugh at the jokes. He walks like a zombie and bumps into things and shakes like a leaf but always affirms he’s okay.

Around four in the morning each night, Peter wakes up screaming.

It becomes a twisted ritual. Tony sets his alarm for 3:55. He stares up at the dark ceiling and prays it doesn’t happen, but it always does. He races to Peter’s room and holds him tightly to prevent the boy from hurting himself and coaches him again and again how to breathe. Tony wipes away tears and talks until his voice is raw.

Three full days go by and Peter doesn’t wake up screaming. Tony thinks it’s getting better, that the cycle might be broken. Then he finds Peter slumped against a cabinet in the kitchen and finds out he hasn’t slept at all in the last 72 hours, reduced to nothing short of delirious, shaky, and panicked. They agree to a light sedative and Peter regains the color in his face twelve hours later.

Eventually, Peter agrees to talk to some professionals. It helps, but Tony still sets his alarm. Each night he stares up at his dark ceiling, hears nothing, and falls back asleep.

One night Peter drops a glass in the kitchen and bursts into tears. Tony helps him clean up the mess. Peter doesn’t talk for the rest of the night. The next morning, he asks if Tony wants him to leave. Tony says that he wants nothing more than for Peter to stay.

He does.

It’s a long road ahead of them, but they’re in it together.

---

It’s been two months and seventeen days.

Tony stands at the stove, stifling a yawn as he pokes at the eggs on the pan in front of him with a lazy half interest. His eyelids drop.

“Tony?”

Jumping, Tony jerks back from the pan and yells when he sees his eggs in smoke. He slides the pan away from the heat and wafts his hand over the wreckage, swearing like a sailor.

There’s a soft laugh, and Tony counts it as a win. Peter is looking over at him incredulously with his backpack slung haphazardly on the edge of his shoulder. “Nice eggs.”

For a minute, Tony just blinks at the statement. “Excuse me?”

“I said nice eggs,” Peter repeats, slowing down his words dramatically, still smiling.

“Hey, cut the sass kiddo. These were for you.”

Peter shakes his head, backing away from the charred remains. “Uh, spiders don’t eat eggs Mr. Stark. Strictly off limits.”

Tony throws down the spatula in defeat. “You had eggs yesterday!”

Still smirking, Peter shakes his head and continues his backpedal towards the door. “Gonna be late for school. Better get going-”

“Nope. No. You’re not skipping breakfast, kid.” Tony looks around the kitchen aimlessly before closing his hand around a peanut butter protein bar and throwing it at Peter’s still retreating form. The boy catches it easily, and stares at it with raised eyebrows.

“What?”

Peter opens his mouth, closes it, and then simply nods in appreciation. There’s an odd expression on the kid’s face that he can’t exactly pinpoint. Before Tony can psychoanalyze too much farther, Peter tucks the bar into the mesh pocket of his backpack and leaves with a warm thanks. Tony watches him go.

He throws away the eggs.

---

Later that night Tony wakes up in the lab to FRIDAY’S soft alert. There’s a paper sticking to his cheek and he rips it off hastily and rises on unsteady legs, heading up towards Peter’s room. He finds the kid sitting on the edge of his bed, eyes unfocused and blood in his hair.

For a minute, Tony just stands in the doorway. Peter is quiet. There’s an odd tension in the room, built up from weeks of Peter coming home hurt. He’s reckless now. It shows in his scars.

“Hey T’ny.” Peter attempts a smile but it stretches the deep cut in his lip and it bleeds. Tony walks over and it feels like his feet are trapped in cement. The mattress bends as he sits beside the young hero.

“What happened?”

Peter wipes the blood off his chin. “Nothing. The usual.”

“Stop with the bullshit. You never got beat up this badly before-” Tony breaks off in a choke. He doesn’t look Peter in the eyes.

“Before what?” Peter’s voice is sharp, daring Tony to say what he already knows. “I’m fine. Occupational hazard and all that.”

Something snaps. Tony looks up at Peter and when their eyes connect, Peter flinches. “Screw that. You and I both know damn well you’re getting roughed up like this on purpose. It stops now. Do you understand?”

Fire races in Peter’s eyes and he crosses his arms across his chest like a goddamn five year old. “No. Look, I’ll be fine in the morning! It’s not my fault you wait for me to come home every night like my d-” Peter breaks off, the word dying on his tongue as Tony feels his stomach plummet. Not waiting for Tony’s reaction, Peter pushes himself unsteadily from the bed to limp towards the bathroom. “I’m getting in the shower. Stop worrying about me.”

The door closes and the lingering worry in Tony’s chest sits heavy. He hears Peter crying through the running water. He sits and sits and waits.

---

The meeting had been long and exceptionally boring. Now, Tony is rewarded with an annoying ache in the base of his skull and a sharp pain behind his eyes. He walks into the kitchen and sees Happy and Peter sitting across from each other at the table playing checkers. Happy is winning. By a lot.

Tony opens the fridge then closes it. He looks swiftly at the clock and frowns. “Hey it’s only 1:00. What are you doing home from school?”

Peter flinches and hangs his head low as if to hide behind Happy. The glass of orange juice in his hand shifts. “Would you believe me if I said it was an early weekend?”

“No. It’s Tuesday.”

Peter sighs. He moves a checker but Happy doesn’t reciprocate, looking at Tony with wide eyes. Something’s up.

“Look,” Peter continues in exasperation. “It’s not a big deal. I just wasn’t feeling that good and they made me come home okay?”

Tony studies the boy, taking in his thinning frame and the dark shadows under his eyes. Call it his new paternal instincts, but it just doesn’t sit right. “Why didn’t they call me? I’m your emergency contact.”

“You were in a meeting. I told them to call Happy.”

“It doesn’t matter Peter. You know I would’ve come-”

“I had it handled boss,” Happy interjects, raising his eyebrows significantly. There’s still something they’re not telling him. Something dark flickers in the pit of his stomach and the pain in his head increases until he has to dig his nails into the skin on his palm to distract himself.

“Well, what’s wrong? Do you need Cho?”

“N-no,” Peter stutters. He swirls his juice and doesn’t look at him. “I’m fine. Just was a little nauseous.”

“He fainted in biology.”

Peter jerks at Happy’s words, spilling his juice on the checkerboard. He looks up at Tony timidly and if Tony didn’t have such a bad goddamn headache already, he would’ve been yelling.

“What? Why?”

“Happy!” The betrayal in Peter’s voice is evident. Tony sees the boy’s chest rising and falling rapidly as he pushes himself to his feet.

Of course, the kid’s Parker pride prohibits him from speaking. Happy does it for him. “Didn’t eat enough. Blood sugar dropped and so did he.”

Tony’s expression must extend past anger because Peter's deep breaths are audible now. He stumbles away from the table and races out of the room on shaking legs, leaving their unfinished game behind.

Tony and Happy stand in an uncomfortable silence, letting him go. After a beat, Happy breaks it. “He just didn’t want to disappoint you.”

A flash of anger rips through his chest like an arrow, but it fades just as fast. “Jesus. Never.” At Happy’s questioning look, he adds “I’m just so goddamn worried about him.”

Happy hums in agreement, looking somber. May’s death had been hard on him, too. On all of them. “He’s been through a lot. Give him time.”

“I just don’t know how to help him Hap.”

Happy shuffles over to him and places a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. You are.”

---

A couple more weeks pass. Peter fills out again. He smiles more. He doesn’t miss school and he aces all his tests. Tony thinks they’re approaching a new normal.

As usual, he’s wrong.

It’s late and Tony walks past the kid’s door, noticing a light shining out through the cracks between the frames. Curious more than anything, he stops and knocks softly. When there’s no answer, he pushes it open and steps inside.

Peter is slumped over his desk and snoring softly. His right hand is resting against the dark wood and holding a vibrant red marker, as if he’d fallen asleep writing. Tony inches forward with bare feet, trying to justify his snooping on his journey across the room. It’s unsuccessful, and when his eyes reach what Peter’s been working on his breath catches in his chest and stays there.

Dozens of papers and news articles stretch out under the kid’s sleeping form. All the headlines are the same, tunneling back to May’s murder. Words like tragic, orphan, and suspect jump out in the sea of swirling black and grey. The group that had jumped Peter and May that night were never found. No leads had come up since. By the looks of it, Peter has been turning over every stone.

His heart aches. He lets it be.

Before he leaves he grabs a blanket off Peter’s bed and wraps it over the boy’s shoulders. He shifts in his sleep, but his eyes stay closed.

Tony tosses and turns the rest of the night.

---

Another week comes and goes. Tony doesn’t bring up the news articles. He should.

Peter brings Ned over for a movie. Tony is nearby and hears them as they laugh. When the movie ends, they talk in hushed tones and then Tony can hear it when they cry, too. Ned stays the night and eats Tony’s burnt eggs with a smile the next morning. The two boys share a complicated handshake as Ned leaves, and Peter spends the rest of the day in his room.

Hours pass. Happy helps him make spaghetti for dinner. They scoop it into three heaping bowls.

“FRI, tell Peter dinner’s ready.”

“Mr. Parker is not in the tower.”

Tony freezes in the middle of pulling out cutlery. He notices Happy studying him out of the corner of his eye.

“Well where is he?”

There’s a short pause. “He is currently at Queen’s cemetery.”

Tony drops the cutlery back in the drawer and flinches at the sound it makes. His throat tightens. “Oh. Is- is he okay?”

A longer pause. “Mr. Parker is experiencing acute signs of distress. He also has multiple contusions, two broken ribs, and a stab wound in his lower abdomen.”

Happy chokes and Tony’s vision tilts. “What? FRIDAY what the hell? Why didn’t you tell me.”

The AI’s mechanical voice rings out with innocence. “Mr. Parker asked me not to. Though painful, none of his injuries are life threatening.”

“Asked you to-” Tony breathes in deeply through his nose, holds it tight in his chest, and releases it slowly. Within three minutes he’s in a suit and Happy follows him on the ground. The journey is a blur, the stars above covered in dark clouds. When Tony touches the ground he falls out of the suit into the chill and stands still.

Peter is sitting in the dirt. He has a hand pressed into his side and another curled around the grass. In front of him lie four tombstones, each one sharing his name.

Heart breaking further with each step, Tony walks until he stands beside the boy. If he notices Tony, he doesn’t acknowledge it, and Tony sits down cross legged beside him. For a long time neither of them speaks. Tony stares at the headstones until the words are burned into his eyelids.

Peter shakes and it makes him cry out. Tony can see his hands, how they’re stained in red just like the night May had died. Except this time, the blood is his own. Upon closer inspection Tony can see tears on Peter’s face. He wonders how long he’s been crying.

Being cautious, Tony shifts closer to the boy’s side and pulls him into a half hug, helping Peter apply pressure to the sluggishly bleeding wound in the process. Peter blinks at the gesture, stiffening at first, then loses his resolve and melts against his mentor.

“I found them,” Peter reveals, voice light and airy.

Tony tries not to move. He leans his cheek into Peter’s hair. “Found who?”

“The guys who killed May. They call themselves the Vipers. I tracked them down but when it came down to it I froze. I just couldn’t-” Peter pauses to catch his breath. “They stabbed me just like they stabbed her. It was so hard to move and it felt like I was drowning. They- they got away.”

Tony feels his bottom lip quiver dangerously and he swallows down the tightness in his throat. When he speaks, his words are fractured like broken glass. “You should’ve told me, kiddo. I would’ve helped you.”

Peter sighs as if it had been the answer he had been expecting. He straightens up and only barely catches himself when he loses his balance and lists to the side. Through half lidded eyes, he studies each grave and another tear drips off his chin.

“I just can’t believe they’re all gone,” he whispers, voice haggard. “I’m- I’m the only one left. God. I’ve been sitting here for hours trying to figure it out. Did- did I do something wrong?”

“No,” Tony says immediately, tightening his grip on the boy. He tries to keep his voice steady. “You’ve done nothing wrong Peter, I promise you. Okay?”

“What if something bad happens again? If it’s you or Happy or Pepper or Ned. I would never be able to forgive myself.”

“Hey,” Tony says softly. He sacrifices the pressure of his hands on Peter’s wound to turn his face towards him, leaving two red fingerprints on his jaw. “Nothing bad’s going to happen, Pete. I promise. We’re all okay.”

“Ben used- used to tell me that with great power comes g-great responsibility. What if I’m just not good enough?”

“You are good enough, you hear me? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to this goddamn world. Sometimes bad things just happen. It’s what we do with the aftermath that matters. You hear me?”

Peter’s eyes well with tears. Before he can respond, gravel crunches behind them and twin beams of light fall onto them, casting their shadows across the cemetery. Happy practically leaps out of the car, eyes wide and spiked with concern. Together, he and Tony help Peter to his feet.

Once he’s vertical the last bit of color in his face drains away and his eyes roll up in his head. Tony swears and Happy yells. They catch him easily and fit him snugly into the backseat, head on Tony’s lap.

The young hero drifts back to consciousness by the time they get back to the Tower, but he can barely walk. They manage to make their way up to medbay and Peter checks out again when they give him stitches. Thirty minutes after Tony finishes knotting the string, Peter blinks awake and tells him he’s okay, though it doesn’t convince either of them. Together they walk to Peter’s room and he collapses into bed and is asleep again within seconds. Tony drags his feet to his own and falls against the covers, rubbing tears out of his eyes with the heels of his hands.

He’s not sure when he falls asleep, but a sliver of light makes him open his eyes. Fighting through his confusion, Tony squints against the pale glow in his doorway and sees Peter standing hesitantly in between the hall and his room, gripping at his banadaged abdomen tightly.

“Peter?” Tony props himself on his elbows. “Is your side hurting?”

For a moment, Tony thinks the boy will turn and leave, but he shakes his head slowly and stays. He’s shifting his weight between his feet like he’s nervous, and won’t look Tony in the eyes.

“Nightmare?”

This time, Peter doesn’t nod or shake his head. Instead, he shrugs.

Tony shifts over and pats the space beside him. “C’mere kid.”

Expression shifting into something Tony can’t read, Peter shuffles into the room and crawls in beside Tony. Even in the dark Tony can see the tension drain away from Peter’s body and it makes his chest warm.

Tony closes his eyes. “Goodnight kiddo.”

He freezes as he feels Peter’s body press against his own. The boy is curled up against his side. “G’night Tony.”

When the kid’s breathing evens out, Tony relaxes too. He drops his hand into Peter’s hair and smiles genuinely for the first time in weeks. In this moment of silence, Tony feels a sudden rush of clarity. A spark rushes through his whole body so suddenly that he can feel electricity in his toes. Tears spring into his eyes. He doesn’t know why he didn’t see it sooner.

They’re family, after all.

He’s going to ask Peter if he would like to be adopted.

---

It all goes south on a Tuesday. Peter has just come home from school and Tony is scribbling down equations in his phone for a new spidey-suit prototype. In the background, the news is on, but it’s distant static.

“Hey underoos. How was school?”

“It was fine.” Peter slings off his backpack and walks to the fridge. His eyes brighten when it opens. “Woah! Did Happy make punch?”

Distracted, Tony pauses his equation and looks up. “Yeah. Lots of sugar. Not that you need it.”

“Awesome.” Peter busies himself in pouring himself a glass as Tony watches. Tonight’s the night. After dinner, Tony is going to pop the big question. Pepper is even flying in from Chicago to be there with him.

“-r. Stark?”

Tony snaps out of his daze. “What?”

“I asked if you wanted a glass?”

Slightly embarrassed, Tony crosses his leg and looks away. “No thanks webs. All for you.”

Peter’s response gets cut short as the segment on tv switches over to breaking news. A small woman with dark hair sits solemnly behind a desk, a video of police lights and gunshots going off behind her. “We have just received news that the malicious group known as the Vipers has infiltrated Union Bank in Midtown. There are no reported casualties, but thirteen hostages have been taken-”

Tony jumps at the sound of shattered glass. Peter’s eyes are glued to the screen, hands shaking and socks becoming stained with punch. After a moment he recovers. He doesn’t acknowledge the mess.

“Holy crap.”

Before Tony can stop him, Peter is sprinting for his room. Tony swears colorfully and follows, making a stop in his own room along the way. He pulls open a dusty drawer in his closet and takes what’s inside, heart beating impossibly fast.

When he gets to Peter’s room, he’s breathless. The kid is already in his suit, mask halfway up to his face.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Peter stares incredulously. “What do you mean?”

“You are not going after them!”

The order falls on deaf ears and Peter tries to step past him. Feeling increasingly numb, Tony blocks the door.

“Tony! I need to do this!”

“No way! Last time you tried you got stabbed! They’ll kill you.”

“THEY. KILLED. MAY!” Peter’s voice is loud and raw. Both of them have tears in their eyes. Peter is breathing heavily, face flushed red with emotion. Tony doesn’t budge.

“Move.”

“No.”

“Tony MOVE!”

“I can’t.”

“I don’t want to hurt you!”

Tony takes a deep breath. “Me neither.”

Before Peter can react, Tony pulls a set of handcuffs out of his jacket and clasps one of the ends around Peter’s wrist. Using his shock against him, Tony drags Peter along by the other cuff and secures it tightly around the metal of his bed frame. The click makes them both flinch.

“Wha- Tony?” Peter jerks on the metal, eyes widening when it doesn’t give. “Vibranium?”

Slowly, Tony backs himself towards the door. The apology is on his lips, but it stays there. “Don’t pull on it. It’ll hurt you.”

Peter looks angrier than Tony has ever seen him in his life. He tries to run at Tony and cries out when the cuff does its job, snapping him back against the bed frame. He tugs harder, fire burning in his eyes. “Let me go!”

“I’ll be right back.” Tony is almost out. Peter’s face is streaked with tears.

“Don’t leave me here! TONY!”

“I- I’m sorry.”

He closes the door behind him and pretends not to hear Peter’s screams.

---

When he arrives at the scene the police part like the red sea to let him through. He pushes through the crowd and through his numb haze, hears cheering. It makes his stomach twist into knots.

He wishes he was doing this for the right reason.

Following FRIDAY’s advice, Tony blasts through the wall in the north-east corner of the building. Three Vipers are laying at his feet before the smoke clears. Bullets rip at his armor and Tony sends a blast that knocks two more off their feet. Within seconds, all the Vipers are horizontal.

“Where are the hostages FRI?”

Tony follows the AI’s directions to a back room. His entrance is coupled with gasps and some sobs of relief. One woman in particular with red hair and glasses holds Tony’s attention for a beat too long and he feels a physical pain. Pushing it to the side, Tony helps an old man with silver hair and a bow tie to his feet and supports him through the ruin.

Paramedics meet them at the doors. Tony watches solemnly as the red haired woman races down the steps, falling into the arms of a young boy no older than ten.

“Iron Man.”

Tony turns. One of the Vipers he had blasted has staggered to his feet, leaning heavily against the teller’s counter and holding a small silver pistol to the side of a blonde woman’s head. There’s dark blood on the better half of his face and when he smiles, all his teeth are stained red.

“Get out of the suit.”

Grinding his teeth together tightly, Tony doesn’t move. Hatred burns underneath his skin like fire. “Don’t be stupid, jackass. Let her go.”

“Get out of the suit,” the man’s repeats as he pushes the pistol farther into the woman's head. She whimpers and squeezes her eyes shut. “I’ll count to three, hm? One. Two-”

“Jesus. Fine.” Tony steps out into the bank, the sound of his feet hitting the floor casting echoes up towards the vaulted ceilings. Police begin to fill the room behind him, guns raised at the Viper. “Now let her go.”

“Only if the cops leave with her.”

Sighing deeply, Tony spares a glance behind him and the woman whimpers again. Slowly, he nods. “Okay.”

Gasping as she’s released, the woman crumples to the floor and just barely catches herself on her hands and knees. She scrabbles away towards the line of officers. Tony doesn’t watch her go.

The Viper’s gun shifts focus to Tony. It’s a straight shot through to his forehead. “I thought the Avengers didn’t handle crap like this.”

“What do you want?”

“I’m leaving. You’re coming with me. When it’s safe, I’ll make sure your death is quick.”

“How considerate.”

The man loses his smile. His eyes are cold. “Don’t play around with me Stark.” He steps forward until Tony can smell his cologne. It makes his nose burn. The Viper pushes the mouth of his gun into Tony’s forehead. The steel makes him shiver. He thinks of Peter. “Records show that I can be a little bit reckless.”

“Wait!”

Tony closes his eyes and swears, stomach dropping all the way down to his toes. The Viper whips his head at the new voice, smiling again. “Well, well. Spider-Man. Back for another round I see. Didn’t have enough the first time?”

Peter’s hands are raised in surrender. From one of his wrists hangs the cuff Tony had placed on him, the other end still snapped shut. He must’ve broken through the bedframe. “D-don’t shoot. Take me instead.”

Tony can feel the pressure on his forehead slacken, even if just a little. The Viper is intrigued. “No offense spider, but Stark here is worth a lot more than you.”

Peter takes a defiant step forward. “He’s a lot mouthier, too. I promise I’ll do everything you say. Just- just don’t shoot him. Please.”

“Why do you care so much?”

Peter swallows visibly. His eyes dart to Tony’s and for one blessed second, they connect, a thousand unspoken passing between them like an invisible channel.

An apology.

The Viper looks between them, changing tactics. “On second thought, it doesn’t matter. Take off the mask.”

“Don’t listen to him webs.”

“Take off the damn mask now, or Stark gets a bullet.”

It doesn’t take any more convincing. In the next second, Peter’s wide brown eyes appear and Tony’s knees go weak. There’s a flash of recognition on the Viper’s face. “Wait. I know you.”

“We’ve met before,” Peter says bravely. “You killed my Aunt.”

The Viper smiles. “Ah yes. Redhead, right? Too bad I let you live. You’re not treating my gift very well.”

“She meant everything to me.”

Tony’s mouth is dry. “Kid-”

Peter’s hands are shaking as he raises his arm. All the oxygen in the room seems to vanish. “Now it’s your turn.”

Time is a strange thing.

Peter fires off a web and it seems to cut through the air in slow motion. It hits the Viper in the face, throwing him off balance, and Tony feels the gun leave his head entirely. As soon as the pressure leaves, Peter is suddenly beside him, hands on his chest and pushing him hard while kicking out at the Viper simultaneously. Tony hears the shot ring out as they fall.

Then everything speeds up.

The Viper is on the floor, eyes closed. Tony expects to see a ring of blood around him, but it never comes.

He looks at Peter.

“Christ. God. No.”

Peter is laying flat on his back and grasping weakly at his side. When Tony falls to his knees beside the young hero he feels warm liquid soak through the material of his suit and tries his best through his mounting panic to hold the kid together underneath him. It’ll take hours to scrub the blood out from under his fingernails.

“P-peter.”

After months, Peter’s smile finally reaches his eyes. His lips are stained with crimson. “‘M okay.”

“We’re going to get you out of here okay?” He grabs Peter’s hand and holds onto it tightly. The handcuff dangling on his wrist is stained with crimson. The restraint he put there. The image burns into his brain and makes him sick.

“This is what happened to Ben,” Peter’s voice is barely a whisper. A tear falls out of the corner of the kid’s eye, followed by another. “But ‘m not scared.”

“Paramedics!” Tony fights against the tightness in his chest. “Peter, open your eyes.”

For once, the boy listens. “It d’sn’ hurt.”

“Kiddo-”

“‘M glad you’re ‘kay.” With fading strength, Peter squeezes Tony’s hand. It says what he can’t anymore. “You’re my last family.”

“Peter no. I can’t lose you. I refuse. Pepper’s on her way. We were going to ask to adopt you tonight Pete. Christ. You can’t-” He breaks off with a shaky breath. The puddle beneath them grows wider. “Help! Please!”

He doesn’t know if Peter hears him. He blinks slowly once, twice, then nothing. Tony refuses to believe it’s goodbye.

Finally, the doors burst open. A team reaches them and pulls Peter out of his arms. He doesn’t hear how they react to seeing Spider-Man’s face. The static is too loud in his ears for anything. As they rush him on a stretcher, Tony grabs the paramedic closest to him by the sleeve, spotting it with crimson. “Save him.”

The woman looks at him with a hard, calculating gaze. Her eyes are brown like Peter’s. “We’ll do all we can.”

Someone helps him up and supports him. When they go outside, the sun blinds him. He can feel his pulse behind his eyes. Distantly, he feels himself helped into the back of the ambulance. They’re halfway to the hospital before he realizes the ambulance is moving.

Tony doesn’t pray often.

He prays now.

---

It’s beeping that wakes him up. Always the beeping.

Another stupid machine, another hospital room. Puffy eyes and salty sleeves and a dull headache that pulses in time with the ache in his heart.

Tony doesn’t need to open his eyes to know that Peter is still asleep. Apart from the beeping, the room is quiet as death. He feels the soft medbay sheets under his cheek and realizes he’d fallen asleep over Peter like the freaking leaning tower of Pisa.

His muscles strain and pop as he moves to sit up and sit back into his chair. His legs are numb and his throat is dry. He tries for a moment not to look at Peter, scared what the sight of the recovering boy will do to his heart.

Eventually, he can’t prevent it any longer.

Peter looks, for lack of a better word, dead. His face is ghostly, his entire body lax and hooked to various tubes and machines feeding him air and the drugs keeping him alive. He looks small, so incredibly small. Impossibly so. Tony feels his chest tighten like a rapidly deflating balloon, stealing away his oxygen. He thinks of what Peter had looked like slumped in front of four matching tombstones, broken in more ways than one. He thinks of the way Peter had looked at him at the bank, a look that had the very real possibility of being his last.

You’re my last family, he had said.

Family.

Tony’s more sure of it now than ever before.

“Wake up Pete,” he whispers, voice wavering.

“Wake up.”

----

Two days later, Peter does.

Tony isn’t even there when it happens. He’s in the shower, scrubbing at his hands. They’re pink and raw, though no matter how many bubbles he goes through, he still feels Peter’s blood against his fingers.

He barely hears the knock at the bathroom door.

“Tony?”

It’s Pepper. Tony looks away from his hands, snapping out of his daze. He can barely breathe through the thick steam. How long had he been in here?

“Pep?” His heart is beating fast. “What’s wrong?”

There’s a short silence and Tony grips onto the wall for support, knees weak. His mind cycles through a million possibilities. God, he should’ve never left the kid’s side-

“He’s awake Tones. Peter’s awake.”

This time, Tony does almost fall. He shoots his hand out to twist off the water. “W-what?”

“He’s awake,” Pepper repeats, her voice inflated with happiness. “He’s asking for you.”

Tony’s world spins as he stumbles out of the shower, throwing on clothes that stick to his wet skin. Pepper is waiting for him on the other side of the door, eyes widening when she sees him. “Tony, there’s still soap in your hair-”

“It’s fine,” he says immediately. “Peter-”

“He’s going to be okay,” Pepper assures. “Cho is looking him over as we speak.”

“Going to be okay?”

“Yes-”

“Oh God.” Tony pulls her forward by the back of her neck and wraps her in a tight hug. She returns it warmly.

“Go.”

Tony falls away from the embrace and races towards the door. Later, he would deny that he ran. But now, well, nothing else quite matters.

Cho is scribbling on a clipboard when Tony swings into the room, breathing hard and dripping water from his hair. She’s laughing at something and looks up when Tony appears under the doorframe. “Hello Tony.”

“H-hi.”

“Before you ask, he’s doing great. A star patient as usual. Should be up and out of here in no time.”

Tony sags slightly, eyes stinging. Cho steps aside, revealing Peter behind her. He’s slumped against his pillow, eyes half mast but open all the same. Their eyes meet and Peter smiles, the tube under his nose lifting. “H-hey.”

“Pete.”

Cho must take it as her cue to leave. She leans down to squeeze Peter’s hand before walking past Tony and out of the room, patting him kindly on the shoulder as she does so.

Peter looks better, but not good. His lips are chapped and he looks like he’d just spent the past week fighting off a particularly bad bout of the flu, hair mussed and clothes wrinkled. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“What?” No matter how badly he wants to sprint over the kid, he feels rooted where he stands in the room’s entrance. Everything feels distant and quiet.

“I’m sorry,” Peter says again softly.

“No,” Tony rebuttals. He takes one step forward, then two. “I should be the one apologizing. I handcuffed you to your room.”

Peter chuckles. It must hurt, because he winces. “Yeah, not your best moment.”

“You could say that.”

“But,” Peter says, “it was to protect me.”

“Just like you pushing me out of the way of that bullet was to protect me,” Tony says.

Peter shifts against the pillows, eyes reddening. “I just, after May-”

Another step, one left, one right.

“I know.”

“I couldn’t lose you. I- I can’t lose you.”

“Well, the feeling’s mutual.”

Tony is at the kid’s side. He sits against the edge of the mattress, raw hands clutched tightly in his lap.

“I remember something from before I passed out,” Peter says carefully. He’s staring at the wall. “Something you said.”

Pulse jumping, Tony nods. The cocktail of anxiety and relief has left him lightheaded. “We- we had this big thing planned out. But I guess I ruined the surprise.” He pauses and the entire universe seems to slow. “Pep and I want to adopt you Pete. I know it’s soon, but you know if, if you want- we’d love nothing more in the world.”

Something fills the room like electricity. Tony feels his mind short circuit as tears leak out of Peter’s eyes. “You’re sure?”

“Yes Pete. More than anything.”

The next moment, their hugging. Tony feels tears of his own spill over onto his face as he clutches onto the kid with all his might. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

“Yeah,” Peter breathes. “Yes.”

And just like that, Tony’s orbit completes itself. It’s something he hadn’t known he’d needed so badly until now. Peter. The kid. His kid. Their son.

“Tony?”

“Y-yeah kiddo?”

“You have bubbles in your hair.”

Tony chokes on a laugh and holds the boy tighter. “Shut up and let me enjoy the moment.”

He can’t see the kid’s face, but he knows he’s smiling.

For now, for today, they’re alright.

They’re family.

#my fic #irondad #irondad fic #peter parker #tony stark #spider-man #hurt/comfort #found family #mcu #spiderson #tony & peter #writing #dealing with grief #peter parker whump #hope ya'll enjoy

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its--fandom--darling · 4 years ago

Text

Gracie Girl

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Fem!Reader ft. their daughter Gracie

Song Prompt: Gracie by Ben Folds https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3oVZNgvhUlM&ab_channel=JeffShin

A Follow Up to American Soldier

Rating; F for Fluff.

“You can't fool me, I saw you when you came out, You got your mama's taste, But you got my mouth”

Sy’s POV

Gracie came screaming into the world on a Wednesday and our family hasn’t been the same since. She’s the perfect compromise of me and her mama, both in looks and personality. A perfect little spitfire with a loud mouth that I know will cause her trouble someday. As soon as she was placed in my arms, I was hooked. She was beautiful despite her fussing and I knew on the spot that I would gladly die for this little girl. Don’t get it twisted, I love all my children equally. I adore my boys, but Gracie and I shared a special bond.

I did my best to be a doting father, playing with the boys one minutes and enjoying skin to skin contact with Gracie the next. There was a part of me that never wanted to put her down.

When her first word was “dada”, I cried like a child as she repeated it over and over again as she tugged on my beard with fierce little fingers and I couldn’t help but laugh before dropping a kiss on her soft forehead.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

3rd Person POV

“Sy, can you come here for a moment?” you said, looking up from your laptop. Sy wiped his hands on the kitchen towel and strolled over to where you were sitting at the dining room table.

“What’s up, Bug?” he asks, dropping a kiss on the crown of your head.

“I’ve just been offered my old position at the school,” you murmur, looking up from your computer screen.

He breaks into a smile, “That’s amazing, Bug.”

You lick your lips nervously. “They want me to start at the beginning of next month.”

“And? Why is this a problem, you were just saying how much you missed working.”

“It mean’s I’ll have to find a daycare for Gracie and I don’t know if I’m ready to part with her yet. She’s only two,” you whisper.

“Bug, what if I stayed home with the kids?” he offered gently.

“But what about the construction job?” you asked.

He shrugged, “To be honest, Bug, I’m tired of manual labor. I’d much be exhausted at the end of the day because I spent it with our kids, than on a dusty job sight.”

“You’re sure you can handle it?” you asked, raising your eyebrows at him. “It’s more than just hanging out with the kids. It’s pick up, drop off, making lunches, dragging the boys to pee wee soccer and providing team snacks on game day and-“

Sy silences you with a kiss.. “Bug, I handled a squad of men in the middle of a warzone for years, I think I can handle our three kids.”

You chuckles and press a quick kiss to his lips. “We’ll see.”

He chuckles, “We will, but I can do it. Let me try, I’ve missed so much of the boys life already and I’ll be damned if I miss Gracie’s in the same way. I’ve got more than enough in savings to take care of us.”

You sigh and he kisses your neck.

“Please, sugar,” he whispers, dragging his beard softly against his skin.

“Alright, I’ll take the job.”

“Good girl,” he hums, kissing your cheek.

“You will always have a part of me, Nobody else is ever gonna see, Gracie girl”

Sy took to stay at home parenting like a fish to water. It was truly a sight to wake him usher your brood into the school every morning from your office. Gracie on his hip as he carried the boys backpacks in his free hand. In his uniform of cargo shorts and a tshirt, he never failed to get the kids there on time, kiss them twins on their heads all while managing his sparkly little princess. Occasionally, she slip away from him and find her way into your office for a short snuggle.

Sy would smile when he appeared in your doorway, looking you over in your work clothes with thinly veiled lust utter his good mornings, kiss you softly and gather up Gracie so you could get working.

One such day, you returned home early due to an early release day, hoping to surprise two of your favorite people. The boys had gone with their grandmother and you were going to drop Gracie with her too, so that you and Sy could have some grown up time. You were surprised that the house was quiet and you climbed the stairs quietly, catching their voices as you stepping into the hall. You followed it and peaked into Gracie’s room, smiling widely at the sight of your husband crouched around your daughters tea table, fluffy pink boa around his neck and plastic tiara nestled in his curls.

“I love that color, baby bug. Is that your favorite?” he asks, softly as she smears the nail polish on the fingernails.

“Yes, daddy, it is!” she breaks into a giggle, “you know that!”

He beams at her, “you passed the test!”

She giggled and covered her mouth. “You’re silly daddy.”

You smiled and slipped back downstairs to let them have their moment. You gathered these tender memories in your heart. You let Sy and Gracie have their time, knowing first hand that it was precious as soon she’d be all grown up.

“There will always be a part of me, Nobody else is ever gonna see, But you and me, My little girl, My Gracie girl”

Tagging: @angryschnauzer @persephone-is-here-omg @salimahbicharara-comun @henrythickcavill @madbaddic7ed @raspberrydreamclouds @cavillryarchive @raspberrydreamclouds @feralrunaway @dahkness @hell1129-blog @beck07990 @soldatsaleannan @connieisland

#Dad!syverson x reader #OC daughter #SongsforSy #Day14 #fluff

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mlovesstories · 5 years ago

Text

You Raised Her Too

Words: 1500

Warnings: Angry Sam, cussing

AN- Sam is a lawyer, this is an AU.

Summary- Sam doesn’t understand why YN isn’t performing well in school. Dean has to translate.

Tag List

Ask Box

Masterlist of Masterlists

Sam looked up from the legal papers he had been glancing over as he walked through the house. He saw YN standing and touching the bindings of the books in their library. Her notes and textbooks lay untouched on the table.

“Ahem.”

Startled, she turned around to face her father.

“You told me you would start your homework a half hour ago,” Sam put his papers down and crossed his arms.

“Sorry,” YN put her hands to her sides, wiping the dust from the dusty books onto her jeans.

“I don’t know why but you have been so distracted lately,” he responded. “Did something happen?”

“No…” she shrugged.

“Please get started on your work,” he winked at her.

“Sorry, daddy.” YN smiled. As she sat down, he exited.

As the days and school years went on, Sam only noticed her distracted behavior more and more. He was tired of trying to make her focus.

“You are in fifth grade. Get your stuff done,” he growled. “Stop dilly-dallying and get going. Why is it so hard to-”

“WOAH!” Dan walked into the house. “What’s with the third degree?”

“Nothing,” YN bit her lip, embarrassed. “Sorry, Dad.” YN apologized to Sam.

“You know, you keep saying that. Why is it so hard to sit down and start your work? Do I need to start taking your series books away?” Sam widened his stance and stood over her as she sat at the table. YN shook her head, eyes wide. “Open your damn book and start!” He stormed out of the room.

“What-” Dean looked to YN.

“He’s mad because I don’t study. At least that’s what he thinks.” YN teared up. “I don’t like when he’s mad at me,” she used her fingers to wipe away the emotion running down her face.

“So why does he get mad at you then? You never disappoint your dad.” Dean walked across the room, put his keys and wallet next to her books, and he guided her into a hug.

“I -I.” She stuttered. “I don’t know.” Almost shaking, YN looked away from him.

“What are you not telling me?“ The uncle stroked her cheek, offering her a weak smile.

“I can’t control it. At least I don’t think so.” YN gazed up at Dean. She whispered, “it’s really hard to pay attention. It’s not that I don’t want to.”

“Have you told him that?” Dean sat her back down at the table, and he sat in the next seat over.

“No…”

“Why not? He would understand.”

“Because he doesn’t love me.” YN tried to open up her textbook, but Dean slammed it shut. YN shrieked at the sudden movement and noise.

“What the HELL are you talking about, kid?” He forced her to look at him. “You KNOW that is not true.”

“It is. He just yells at me. He doesn’t care.”

“Have you started on your work-” Sam walked back into the room. YN froze.

“I was looking over it. She’s doing fine.” Dean smiled and gave her a kiss on her cheek. “Keep going, smart stuff.” He gave her a sideways smile to convey his protection of their secret conversation. “You got this.”

“Thanks, Dee.”

Over the next few days, Dean kept an eye on YN. He saw the distress in her body language throughout the evenings. She paced and sat down for short periods of time before having to get up again.

“Here,” he walked into the room. Dean handed her some silly putty. “See if this helps you calm down,” he grinned and watched her open the container. YN pulled it out and stretched it.

“Thanks, Uncle Dee,” She stood up from her chair and hugged him. “But why are you being so nice? Aren’t you mad that I can’t concentrate?”

“No, I’m sad that you feel you can’t even talk to your dad.”

“Talk to your dad about what?” Sam walked in.

“Nothing. Just that I got an A today on my math test,” YN faked a smile.

“Imagine that, you got a good grade. You know why?” He asked gruffly. She held her breath. “Because you like math. What about language arts or science, huh? Get good grades in those too.” Sam walked out as quickly as he walked in.

“See?” YN laid her head on the table.

“You and I are going to have a fun day tomorrow, you hear me?”

“I can’t, Uncle Dee. I have tutoring.” she turned her head to face him.

“What if I told you I told your dad that I was taking you and that nerdy kid to the library tomorrow? I told him that you told me you study better there than at the house?” He grinned and stroked her hair. Your tutor-person is aware of my evil plan. Paid him and extra fifty. He won’t tell. “

“Really?” YN whispered.

“Yep,” he watched her sit up.

“Thank you. So, what are we going to do?”

The next day, the two went bowling and each ate a greasy hamburger. When they came home, Sam was sitting on the couch,

“So- did you have fun on your little excursion?” He continued to face the TV, not turning to them.

“Huh?” YN looked to Dean with wide eyes.

“Your backpack is still by the door,” Sam motioned with his hand.

“Shit.” Dean said between his teeth. “Sorry, YN,” he whispered.

“It’s fine.” YN leaned into him. She walked in front of her father.

“You are terrible in school, and when I pay for a tutor, you blow him off and galavant all over town with your uncle? And Dean? You know she needs this tutoring.” Sam turned to see his brother with a drawn face.

“You know, you are such an ass.” Dean walked over to his brother. Sam stood to challenge his brother.

“I’m trying to provide for her!”

Dean stood in front of YN to face Sam.

“You’re not seeing what’s going on right in front of you! I get that you’re busy with your cases. Being a lawyer keeps you busy, but she is not okay! When will you recognize that?” He moved so that Sam could see his daughter. “See? YN tries. Do you know how many times she’s cried in my arms because she is terrified of disappointing her Magna Cum Laude dad?”

Sam looked from Dean to YN. Tears cascaded down her face.

“Sweetie?” Sam’s stunned face told her that he understood.

“Since you were too busy to notice, I took her to the doctor. ‘Says she has ADHD.” Dean motioned to YN. She nodded in response. “Hasn’t started the meds yet though.”

“You took her to the doctor without me? That isn’t your job!”

Dean stepped forward so that he was inches from Sam’s face.

“You sure as hell weren’t doing it! I told you over and over something was up with her, and you didn’t do anything. She told you the same thing, and you didn’t listen to her either. What was I supposed to do? She’s my-” Dean stopped and sniffled. “She’s mine too, whether you realize it or not. I raised her too.” Dean relaxed his shoulders and stepped back. “YN is suffering and it isn’t her fault,” the uncle whispered. Sam peered past Dean to see YN like a statue, not sure what to do. Face blushing from the tension in the room, she couldn’t bring herself to look at Sam. He walked to her and got down on a knee to be eye-to-eye with her.

“I don’t even know what to say,” Sam told her. “I’m so sorry for everything. Everything I ever said or did to discount you.” YN continued looking away as new tears sprang forward, rolling toward her chin.

“I try harder than anyone else.” YN mouthed to her dad.

“I can only imagine,” Sam took her hand. “I am- I am so sorry, kiddo. If I’d known… I would have gotten you the right kind of help, not made you feel like a failure with the tutoring and demeaning comments. I thought you were- I don’t know. Just not wanting to pay attention.”

Dean quietly left the room.

“I like school. I just can’t sit still. Here, Dean gave me this. It helps.” She ran to the library and took the silly putty off of the desk. “See?” YN stretched it so that he could see how it worked.

“Of course Dean had that,” Sam laughed. “I’ll do better. I promise. You deserve it.”

“Thanks, daddy.” She wrapped her arms around his neck tightly. “I love you.”

Sam walked into Dean’s room without knocking later that day.

“How could I have missed it?”

Dean turned from folding his laundry on the bed.

“Because you’re busy and you didn’t slow down to see what was going on. At least you realize it now. I watched her. She couldn’t sit down. YN was fidgety and couldn’t stay still. She was so frustrated. I could tell she couldn’t control it. She’ll be okay now. It will take all of us to keep her going though. Meds don’t fix everything. You know that.” Dean threw a tshirt back on the bed without folding it.

“I should have seen it. You raised her too.”

____________

Forever Friends (Everything):

@katymacsupernatural @unicornblood4ever @ellie-andthemachine @supernatural-crazed-girl

@fangirl-moment-x @empirialwolf @winchesters-favorite-girl @super100012

@waywardnewcomer @percywinchester27 @waywardsuns @supernatural-jackles

@mcallmestiles @sdavid09 @kingandrear @bellero

@rosiewinchester @seality @blogsnowflakeme @jaycc7983 @luci-in-trenchcoats

@cherryblossomflowers @because-you-never-know-when

@sleepylunarwolf @choosemyname *

@internationalmusicteacher @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @find-sammys-shoe

@encounterthepast @torn-and-frayed

@giggles1026 @xiumin-girl99

@strangedeerconnoisseur @sbcamp08 @mangueweaschester

@idksupernatural @silverstripe101a

@thevelvetseries @jennawinchester152a * @samsgirl93 * @supernatural3002 *

@tmiships4life * @breereadsthings * @mersuperwholocked-lowlife *

@a-magey @vicmc624 @hookedinto-fictionalworlds @beatifuldisaster018

@miraclesoflove

@myopiamystical

@fallen-wolf22

#dean x daughter!reader #Sam x niece!reader #supernatural #SupernaturalAU #mlovesstoriesiraisedhertoo #mlovesstories #mlovesstoriesau

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goodwriterwithbadhabits · 4 years ago

Text

Dark of the Night

So I thought this was kinda short but its actually 4 pages of writing, so I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Murder, blood, cops, and mentions of WW2, drinking and sex

Master List

“Come on out, let me see you.” The deep voice echoed through the trees behind you. You didn’t dare stop moving, despite the branches catching on your clothes and the skin exposed by your Halloween costume. Never in a million years did you actually expect this kind of thing to happen. The night had started off smoothly, a simple highschool Halloween party, the right mix of sexy and drunk that was supposed to end with everyone either getting laid or passing out.

Somehow none of you were so lucky.

When the first scream happened, it had brought everyone into the kitchen to find a giant of a man tearing apart the party's host. Her blood was staining the white tiles and within seconds of seeing this, even the bravest of football players had bolted from the scene. At first you had tried hiding in the basement, but that had resulted in someone’s corpse being dropped next to you, splattering you in blood. He had seen you, despite trying to keep quiet, and had tried to swing at you, but thanks to the small hallway you were in, he had only managed to cut your arm. You barely managed to escape the house, your shoes long abandoned, and no thoughts on your mind but to save yourself.

Now here you were, running through the woods, barefoot and bleeding, hoping you would make it to town before he caught up with you. You swung yourself around a large tree, trying to catch your breath, but still remain quiet.

“Hey! Over here!” Someone yelled quietly, “Hey!” You finally caught sight of the person trying to get your attention. It was one of the seniors who had been at the party, waving to you from a small hatch in the ground. “Get over here, quickly.” He motioned you over again, glancing towards the sound of the attacker approaching. You didn’t need to be told twice. You flew across the 15 feet to him in mere seconds, pulling the hatch closed as you climbed down the ladder.

Inside was pitch black, and for a few seconds you were sure you were alone until you saw the light of his phone screen as he turned on his flashlight. “Are you-”

“Where are you?!” The attacker's voice comes from right above you and before you can react, his hand is clapped over your mouth, his body pressing yours against the damp wall behind you as he kept you both quiet. Your arms stings where his other hand is holding your wound, which makes your eyes water. His phone is on the floor now, the screen barely visible in the darkness. Far above you someone screams, and you hear the attacker running towards them, his heavy footfalls slowly retreating into silence. Your savior doesn’t move for several moments, waiting until he’s sure no one is there before letting you go and grabbing his phone.

“Sorry, I didn’t want him to hear us.” He explains, shining his flashlight towards his own hand. You can’t see his face but he must have realized the blood on his palm was yours, because the next thing you know his light is pointed at you. “Oh shit, you’re bleeding.” You glance down at the gash on your arm, finally able to see the blood that's coating the length of your forearm.

“Oh, he must have got me more than I thought.”

“Come here, there's another room this way.” He holds out a hand for you to take, and you do, happily. In the other room is an old bed, a broken mirror, an old desk, and what looks like a dresser, though its beyond repair. He sits you on the bed, which shockingly holds your weight, and sits next to your injured arm. His phone is angled so the flashlight reflects off the mirror, casting light across the room.

“What is this place?” You ask as he rips the sleeve of his tshirt off.

“I think it might have been a world war 2 bunker. People built them all over the place. The other room has shelves and old canned food.” He explains, tying the scrap of his shirt over your cut. “You know you’re lucky you got away.”

“Yeah,” You sigh, “I just hope some of the others did too.”

“Me too. I’m Jaebeom by the way, but everyone calls me JB.” You chuckle at his cute smile, which looks so out of place with his black tshirt and eyebrow piercing.

“I thought it was you.” You nod, “You’re part of-”

“If you say Jackson’s squad, I’m going back up top.” He groans, which makes you laugh again.

“No, I was going to say Mark’s friend group.” You defend. “I’m Y/n, I’m Mark’s lab partner in Chem.”

“Okay, I remember him talking about you.” He nods, “Good to know you’re real.”

“And the only reason he’s passing Chem.” Above you another scream echoes, closer than last time. “Are you sure we’re safe down here?”

“I don’t know, to be honest. If he knows where this place is, we’re sitting ducks.” He confesses. Absently, you reach for his hand, needing some kind of anchor.

“Do you think someone was able to phone the police?” You look over at him again, but he’s focused on your entwined hands. “Can you?” He shakes his head sadly, looking back up at you.

“I have no service down here. What about you?”

“I kinda threw my phone at the guys head. Hopefully its still at Nicole’s.” Your heart sinks when you remember what had happened to your friend. “Oh god, Nicole.” Your voice breaks, tears stinging your eyes. You didn’t want to cry in front of him, but the reality of what was happening was finally hitting you.

“Hey, don’t cry.” JB’s voice is soft as he pulls you closer, letting you hide your face in his neck. “I’m scared too, but we’re alive. Isn’t that something to be happy about?”

“Our friends are dead.” You remind him.

“But we aren’t.” He reiterates. “Right now, we just need to focus on staying alive.” He pulls you away from him, looking you in the eyes. “We’ll stay down here for a while, then we’ll run back towards the house, okay?” You nod along.

“Yeah, sounds like a plan.” Silence falls over the bunker as you both strain to hear the world around you, you’re still lying on his shoulder, savoring his warm arm around you. “You know there’s a rumor going around about you?”

“Is there?”

“Yeah, people say you’re dating some model from China.” JB laughs at the statement, which has you laughing as well.

“Okay one, she’s Korean and two, she’s my cousin.”

“Oh fuck!” You laugh, pulling him away as you crack up. He laughs with you, and the weight of reality begins to lessen. As you finally manage to get control of yourself, you can’t stop looking at him. Until now you had only ever been passing ships, hell you hadn’t even known he was at a party with only twenty-some guests. In the halls at school he never caught your eyes, but here you were, hiding in some dark ass bunker from a killer psychopath together, and despite everything that was happening one thought kept creeping back into your mind:

Damn he’s hot.

“So tell me-” He cuts himself off, smile dropping as he presses a single finger to his lips. Carefully he reaches over, grabbing both his phone and your hand in order to shut the light off.

“Are you in there?” The voice doesn’t sound like the attacker but still has you clutching JB’s hand for dear life. He squeezes back, pulling you up and carefully making his way over to the corner by the door. JB pushes you against the wall, his body flush against yours as you try to make yourselves as small as possible.

“We’ll be okay.” He breathes, lips just touching the shell of your ear. “I won’t let him hurt you.” You can hear the dull clanking of someone’s shoes coming down the ladder and have to press your face into JB’s neck to keep yourself quiet. “Down here!” Another voice calls, “I saw her go in.” You might have recognized the voice if you could hear it over your pounding heart. JB turns, keeping you behind him as he peers into the darkness. You can only grip the back of his shirt, praying that your deaths come quickly. Your arm throbs as the sound of someone’s shoes get closer, the beam of their flashlight swinging back and forth as they search for you. Peeking over his shoulder you watch the beam of light get closer and closer to the room until its shining directly in your face.

“Jaebeom?”

“Dad?”

A week passes almost silently. JB’s father, the sheriff, had driven you both to the hospital, and hours later, you were safe in your own bed. Only a few days later was the funeral. Seven of the 29 kids invited had been killed, 10 injured and 2 missing, but they had shown up at the police station just hours after their names had been announced, having been making out in their car on the mountainside. The killer, a hermit from a nearby town, had been killed when he tried crossing the highway after one of his potential victims.

None of this really meant anything to you. What mattered was that you were alive, your best friend Jeongyeon was alive, and your friend Nicole was not.

You had only seen JB once since that night, at the funeral. He hadn’t said anything to you, just stood beside you as you listened to the preacher send your friends off to heaven, and held your hand tightly. Finally after over a week, school was back in session, so here you were, trying to ignore the whispered rumors as you pulled your chemistry book from your locker.

“You know, that bunker’s still unlocked if you want to join me in there again.” His voice makes a smile erupt on your lips.

“Only if you promise there won't be any more psychos trying to kill us.” You turn to find him opening the locker neck to you. “Have you been there all year?”

“All four, actually. I usually just kept everything in my backpack.” He explains, setting his lunch bag on the empty shelf.

“Then why-”

“Mark told me where your locker was.” He pulls one of his books from his bag, setting it in his locker. “And I meant what I said about the bunker.”

“How about somewhere above ground?” You offer, “Like the pizza place by the library?” His smile grows into a grin.

“It’s a date?” He extends his hand for you to take. You nod, closing your locker and entwining your fingers together.

“A date.”

#Im Jaebeom #jb imagines #got7 jb #jb imagine #Im Jaebum #im jaebeom imagines #im jaebeom imagine #got7 #got7 imagines #got7 imagine #halloween event

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wasteitonserendipity · 5 years ago

Text

Gummies (Part One)

(A/N: hello lovelies! I started a new main blog for writing so I’m reposting all of my stuff to here! Anyways, I’m working on the part two right now and hopefully it’ll be up soon!)

Genre: fluff and a little angst because why not?

Paring: Jungkook x reader

Word Count: 2.3K

-5:30AM-

You were jolted awake by the blare of your alarm, the man by your side stirring a little bit. You sighed to yourself, staring up at the ceiling. The idea of getting up right now was less than appealing at the moment but you knew it must be done. You hated that even when you got to spend the night with Jungkook it was always cut short by the need to get home early in the morning. His arms tightened around your waist as you tried to kick your legs over the side of the bed to get up.

“Can’t you stay a little bit longer,” he said with a pout you could see through the dark, “you always leave so early. I wanna make you breakfast or something.”

“Thanks babe,” you said with a smile, kissing his shoulder before loosening his grip and getting up, “I wish I could but duty calls,”

He sat up and groaned again but didn’t really protest anymore, instead flopping back onto the bed dramatically. He knew that this was how it was. He knew that you had some kind of “responsibility” that you had to take care of in the morning before school, but he didn’t know exactly what it was. Sometimes he just figured that you had a morning routine that you wanted to stick to, so he really didn’t push the issue.

You moved around the bedroom, humming while you gathered your belongings. He’d told you that if you were going to be staying over that you should leave some clothes at his, maybe even a toothbrush or makeup. In fact he’d almost insisted when you two actually began seeing each more consistently around a month in. You’d left small things there, maybe a Tshirt or a pair fo shorts to sleep in but leaving anything more than felt a little invasive to you and you certainly didn’t want to be that person. You two were casually seeing each other and had agreed that if you were to see other people to let each other know, but neither of you had really been interested in anyone else since your thing started.

Before you could grab your glasses off of the nightstand Jungkook grabbed you by the wrist.

“Hey,” he said with a soft smile, kissing your hand, “can you do dinner tonight? I wanted to talk about something with you.”

You stopped all movement immediately, a million things ran through your mind, but one thing was consistent. Crap, this is it, he doesn’t wanna see me anymore.

Sensing your panic he laughed lightly before pulling you into his lap, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“It’s nothing bad babe,” he said soothingly, “just something I think we should talk about in a nicer setting.”

You wriggled out of his hold to face him, his eyes wide and full of what looked like love, even though you wouldn’t dare say that word yet.

“I’ll see what I can do,” you sighed, caressing his face before placing a small kiss on his lips.

-6:15AM-

“You’re late again,” Jisoo said, leaning on the counter with a cup of coffee. You could sense the mild irritation in her voice, “she’s not up yet thankfully. I figured I’d let her sleep until you were home.”

“I’m sorry Jisoo,” you said sincerely, setting your bag on the kitchen table “you’re literally the best sitter I could ever ask for.”

“I know I am,” she said with a smirk, her irritation fading away, “I'm the best live in babysitter ever. It helps that she’s the most adorable little angel I’ve ever met. If she was the devil this would be a very different conversation.”

“I owe you a big bottle of wine and a night to yourself,” you promised.

You were forever grateful that your roommate was one of the most understanding people in the world. She knew your situation, that you were now the sole guardian of your four year old sister after your parent disappeared. You two had been living together already when you got the call that your sister was in custody after someone doing a wellness check found her in your old house all by herself. They figured she’d been there for a few days alone but she really had no idea what was going on. When you’d asked if Jisoo it was okay if your little sister came to live with you, she didn’t even hesitate. You felt lucky to have such an amazing friend by your side.

“Deal,” she laughed, sipping her coffee.

A comfortable silence fell between you two before you heard a small voice from the other room.

“Unnie?” the small voice sung impatiently. You shared a glance with Jisoo and smiled.

“Duty calls,” you say lightly before making your way down the hall.

You popped your head into your shared room to see your little sister sitting up in the middle of your huge bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Hi baby,” you cooed, “are you ready to start the day?”

She nodded but pouted at the same time. She was never a morning person, something you both had in common. You were so much alike sometimes that it was almost like she was your daughter and not your little sister. She was smart as a whip and picked up a lot of your habits, both good and bad. She was always asking questions with the most adorable, inquisitive look on her face. Day in and day out she never ceased to amaze you.

“What are we doing today, Unnie?” she asked you with bright eyes now.

“Do you want to come to class with me?” you asked. It was summer session now, so she didn’t have daycare everyday like during the year but your teacher for your summer lit class was kind enough to let you bring her with you whenever it was necessary.

“Yes, please!” she squealed, jumping out of bed and running for the kitchen.

“Jisoo! Incoming!” you yelled down the hall. You smiled when you heard Jisoo greet the little one and endless giggles could be heard from the kitchen.

You stretched a little before getting up to change for class. You pulled your clean shirt over your when your phone vibrated on the bed.

JK: Hope you made it home okay! I’ll pick you up around 7? Xx

You wanted to panic at the thought of Jungkook picking you up at your place. He’d never come over to yours and never really questioned why you never offered to host and this would be the first time that he’d be in the same vicinity as your sister. It made your stomach flip at the thought of telling him about your situation. You weren’t ashamed in anyway of the predicament your parents put you in, but you knew that most guys in their twenties weren’t exactly keen on the idea of dating someone who has to take care of a little life as well.

“Today’s as good a day as ever I guess,” you sighed to yourself as you put the rest of your books in your bag.

-11AM-

“What’d you think of class today, little one?” you asked as your walked across campus. You held on to her little hand, in her other hand was the popsicle that your professor had insisted on buying for being “the best listener in class”.

“It was good,” she hummed, happily enjoying people watching as you both walked.

That was one of the millions of things you simply adored about her, she was always the happiest kid around. You would never have known all the shit that she’d had to deal with in her four short years of being on earth. She was always happy, always a tiny ray of sunshine in the dark. She rarely cried or got upset and somehow, at four and a half, knew how to work her problems out better than most of the adults you knew.

You moment of adoration was cut short by the sound of a familiar voice behind you.

“______!” you knew exactly who it was and you froze. You were planning on telling him but this wasn’t exactly how you wanted to. You took a deep breath, knowing that you didn’t have much of a choice now. You turned around with a forced smile, one you hoped he wouldn’t notice.

“Hey”! You a little more enthusiastically than you should have.

“I saw you come out of lit and I thought I would say hi and see if you wanted to grab lunch,” he said with his bunny smile.

You were lost in his smile when your little sister tugged at your jacket impatiently.

“Unnie, who’s that?” she asked, her eyes doing a once over on Jungkook, “he’s very tall.”

You laughed a little, always the curious little one. Jungkook looked between the two of you surprised, but not as much as you figured he would, which puzzled you a little bit.

“This is my friend, Jungkook. He goes to school with me.” you say, nodding for her to introduce herself.

“I’m Ji Ah, it’s nice to meet you,” she smiled and bowed.

After Jungkook bowed back she turned on her heels and immediately made the signal that she wanted you to pick her up, something she only did when she was feeling shy. You smiled as you picked her up and rested her on your hip.

“This is what you mean when you say ‘duty calls’, huh?” he asked, quietly.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this but yes,” you said, looking at the ground.

“I just don’t get what the big deal is though,” he said with a shrug, pulling his water bottle out of his backpack.

“What?” you asked, a little shocked.

“So, you have a little sister? That’s hardly something to get worked up about,” he laughed.

He set his bag down on the ground before rummaging through it again. After a minute, and your heart restarting, he pulled out a small bag of gummies.

“Ji Ah, do you like gummies?” he asked, Ji Ah’s head still buried in your neck. She looked around at him shyly and nodded her head.

“Good, so do I!” Jungkook chirped enthusiastically, “you want some?”

She nodded again with more fervor before taking the colorful candy from his hand.

“Jungkook, it’s a little more complicated than that,” you said in a hushed tone.

He pulled out another candy and handed it to Ji Ah before turning to look you dead in the eye.

“That’s okay,” he said with sincerity in his eyes, “you can tell me about it over lunch, my treat.”

-12:35PM-

“It took about six months, but because they couldn’t find my parents I gained sole custody of Ji Ah. It’s been about a year since she’s been with me.” you said, taking a sip of your iced tea.

Ji Ah was sitting next to you happily coloring away, oblivious to the world around her. You smiled down at her lovingly. Just about your whole world was that little girl and you braced yourself for the out come that had happened the last time you’d told a guy about your situation.

Jungkook continued to listen to you intently, only stopping every so often to pick at his sandwich. You pressed on, figuring if he was meant to stay in your life after all of the information overload you were letting loose on him, that he would stay, and if not then it just wasn’t meant to be.

“I won’t say it’s been easy,” you started, fidgeting with the rings on your fingers, “because it really hasn’t. Between social services checking in, taking care of Ji Ah, going to school full time and trying to have a social life, I’m stretched pretty thin. Which is the reason why you’ve never really seen me with a guy on campus. I know when we met we joked about that, but that’s the real reason. Ji Ah always comes first. She’s never met really any of the guys I’ve seen until now. I’ve never really been comfortable with the idea of her getting attached to someone and then all of a sudden they’re no longer around. So, I won’t lie, the fact that we’re all sitting here together right now is a big deal.”

You looked up, your eyes meeting with his. You looked for signs that he was ready to bolt, for any kind of unsteadiness in them. But you found none. His eyes still sparkled the same way they did this morning, and it made your heart flip.

“_____,” he said as he took your hand, his eyes never leaving yours, “you are one of the most amazing people I have ever met.”

“What?” you asked, dumbfounded by his words.

“I don’t know anyone at our age that would willingly take on this kind of responsibility without a second thought. You have a huge heart and for you to take care of Ji Ah and keep your grades up is truly amazing.”

You looked down, smiling at his kind words and blushed just a little. You figured he’d let you go easily as soon as he knew the kind of commitment dating you would now entail. But it seemed like he almost welcomed it.

“I was gonna ask you this tonight over dinner,” he began again, “but since we’re in a sharing mood, I guess I’ll just go now; ––––––––, would you officially be my girlfriend?”

Ji Ah looked up as soon as he said the word ‘girlfriend’ halting all of her coloring. She looked between the two of you a few times with inquisitive eyes before turning to you to ask,

“Does this mean Jungkook oppa can come over a play with me? I like him.”

You both laughed a little at her forward question. You looked at the clearly amazing, understanding man across from you with a smile.

“I guess it does.”

#bts writing #jungkook writing #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook fluff #repost from my old blog

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momentofroggie · 5 years ago

Text

Spike To The Heart CH 1

You can read it here on AO3

Words: 2.5K

Peter flinches and mutters a curse that echoes around the shower’s walls. The water is boiling hot to the touch. The boy’s surprised it didn’t burn him. He quickly turns the knob of the shower. It reaches a bearable temperature and he begins to wash the grime away. It’s an early morning in Queens, the sunrise peaking through the blinds of the bathroom window, illuminating Peter’s milky skin. The soap on his chest and arms glimmer like a mineral sliced in half. The young boy hums a tune as he scrubs his scalp, shampoo dripping down the back of his neck. He’s erupted by his peaceful shower with a few bangs on the door.

“Peter, hurry up! You’ll be late for the third time this week.” Aunt May calls from the other side. Peter shouts a lackluster “okay” and rinses himself off, cutting his heavenly time short. He steps out and quickly dries himself off. He changes into dark blue boxers, black jeans that hug him in all the right places, and an oversized Midtown School of Science sweatshirt. He brushes his hair and teeth, trying his best to make himself looks presentable. He rushes down the hall to slip on his black vans and sling on his backpack. Aunt May shuffles over and plants a kiss on his forehead.

“Have a great day, Petey. Have your clothes for after school?” Her eyes glimmer with compassion.

“Of course, how could I forget?”

“Be home by eight. Love you.” Peter says it back and before May can take another breath, he’s out the door trampling down the stairs. Today was the first day of volleyball tryouts. Peter has been on school and community teams since middle school. It was his drive and passion. The adrenaline rush of chasing after the ball, feeling it bounce off your forearms, and sliding to your knees to save the volleyball as it’s merically spiked over the net is enough to get Peter coming back for more. He usually played Libero, his favorite position. He was usually the first one to touch the ball once it got over the net. Yelling “mine” and sending the ball who-knows-how-many feet into the air is his favorite part. Also the uniforms. Long sleeve blue and white shirts, black spandex, and knee pads. They’re comfortable and mildly exposing. MJ always jokes that he wears the uniform the best, that it fits him like a vacuum sealed bag. Ned always shook his head in disgust while Peter laughs and nods in thanks.

Peter picks up the pace of his steps as he looks at the time on his phone. 10 minutes before the late bell. Shit. As soon as Peter steps foot into his classroom the bell rings in his ears. He flops down into his seat next to Ned who flashes him a quick smile. Peter wipes the slight sweat accumulating on his hairline. He hears MJ scoff from behind. He whips his head back and raises a confused eyebrows, his puppy eyes locking with Mary’s chocolate ones.

“Nice of you to show up.” MJ grins before continuing. “Your fly is down.”

Peter blubbers and zips his fly. The day goes by slow. All Peter can think about is tryouts. He’s been on the varsity team since freshman year. He doesn’t mean to brag but he thinks he’s pretty damn good. Maybe he could even make it as a captain, even though he’s only a junior. He’s heard word from one of his fellow teammates, Steve, that this year is gonna be real competitive for varsity.

“I heard some of the freshman coming up are kinda powerful. Wade Wilson is one of them.” Steve stops to chug his carton of chocolate milk. “Has a mighty serve. Could take someone’s head off.”

Bucky rolls his eyes from across the lunch table. He’s the best server on the team and one of the best in the state. He murmurs something about believing it when he sees it and goes back to eating his sandwich. Bucky and Steve are the toughest players on the team. They played freshman football until Peter convinced them to do volleyball instead. It’s been history ever since. Peter looks even more lanky and soft compared to the two bulky lumberjack looking men.

“Anyone else?” Peter mumbled through bits of apple. Steve shrugs and looks at Bucky, who’s mouth is twisted to the side. Steve straightens up and his eyes go wide.

“Thor’s brother! Jesus, what’s his name-“ He stammers while snapping his fingers, squinting his eyes shut in thought.

“Loki.” Peter looks up to see Thor standing over the table. His muscular arms straining against his black tshirt as he sets his tray down. “I tried to convince him to do football with me. Volleyball is for girls.”

Peter, Steve and Bucky all groan in sync at that comment. Thor gives a cheeky smirk in response. Thor’s the quarterback of the football team. It would take ten men to take him down, let alone three to move him. He was strong and quick on his feet. Some say he could make it to a national team if he committed. Despite being handsome and athletic, his brains certainly lack.

“There’s nothing wrong with playing a “girly” sport, doofus.” Bucky spat back. “In volleyball, you actually have to use your head instead of ramming it into people’s stomachs.”

Thor chuckled at the brunette’s comment, looking up from his lunch to lock eyes with him. He shook his head and looked down once more. “Whatever you say. I just think Loki would do better with football, that’s all.”

“But Loki isn’t as bulky as you,” Peter pipes up, “He would get a concussion before the first game ended.”

“It’s all part of the fun.” Thor shrugs and finishes his sandwich within three bites. Bucky shakes his head and stands up, tray in hand. He greets everyone goodbye and exits the canteen. Steve quickly does the same, leaving Peter and Thor on opposite ends of the round table. Peter looks down shyly. Thor has always intimidated him, his piercing blue eyes and his rugged figure was enough to send shivers up Peter’s spine. “Don’t tell the others this, but I think you’re the only one who ain’t half bad at the whole volleyball thing.”

Peter felt blush creep up his neck and onto his cheeks. “Thanks, Thor. Bet you already know how good you are at football..”

The bell rings as Thor opens his mouth. Peter scurries away before he can hear what Thor has to say. The rest of the afternoon seems to go by even slower. It leaves Peter staring at the clock all through AP Physics. When the bell finally chimes once more, he practically sprints to the locker room. There he sees familiar faces. Steve, Bucky, Scott, Sam, Clint. But he also sees new faces. A boy with black hair down to his shoulders with a sharp yet welcoming face. Another boy with brown eyes and brown hair and a killer body. His chest plastered with abs and meaty pecs. Peter tries his best not to stare.

Peter changes into a pair of black spandex, a white pizza pi tshirt, knee pads, and black Nike sneakers. Most boys on the volleyball team don’t wear spandex for practice, they usually wear basketball shorts or even sweats some days. Not Peter, he likes the feeling of spandex. The free breeze around his thighs and the squeaking of his legs as they hit the gym floor. He spots Steve and Bucky waiting out for him outside the locker room and they head to the gym. The nets are set up and boys are already warming up. Some are playing pass over the net while others are serving to each other from across the gym.

Something doesn’t feel right though. Peter can’t spot coach Banner. He’s usually there greeting his future team players by the double gym doors. Instead, it’s another man. An attractive man for that matter. He has brown hair with gray locks whipped up into a quiff. Chocolate brown eyes that make you melt like ice cream in July. A scratchy looking beard and mustache covers his cheeks and chin. This isn’t coach Banner. Definitely not.

“Who the hell is that?” Steve’s boisterous comment breaking Peter’s world of fantasy. Peter shakes his head and shrugs.

“No idea. New coach maybe?” Peter squeaks, eyes trailing down the mystery man’s body. He’s incredibly fit. He’s wearing a track suit jacket, the material hugging at his biceps. His sweatpants however hide his presumably muscular legs, but leaving nothing to the imagination around his crotch. Peter gulps. This season could be interesting.

Steve, Bucky, and Peter go to a corner of the gym with a volleyball. They play pass but Peter can’t seem to focus. He keeps glancing over at the man, scratching at his beard and writing on a clipboard.

“Peter, you go!” Steve calls out, serving the ball. Peter shouts a slightly incoherent “I go!” While swooping his arms under the ball sending it flying into the air. He glances over and him and the man make eye contact. The man sends a warm grin and looks down at the board in his hands. Although what he did was simple, he felt a sense of pride and triumph for what he did. That is until the ball fell between his feet. Bucky laughed.

“Peter, dude, the ball was right there. Pay attention.” Peter rolled his eyes, flushing with embarrassment.

“I know, I’m sorry.” Peter served the ball to Bucky a little too hard. Whether it was intentional or not he’ll never figure out. They continue to pass the ball to each other until they hear the whistle. They jog to the middle, kids separated between the nets. They try their best to surround the coach despite that. The man can feel the teens gawk at him, but regains his composure.

“Hello gentlemen. I am your new coach, Mr. Stark. You can just call me Coach Stark if you wish. Mr. Banner and his wife are expecting, so he will not be able to coach your team this year. However, I promise you I’ll do my best to give you the most successful season yet. Before we can even think about that, let’s start with tryouts.” Mr. Stark stumbles around the circle, steps slow and thoughtful.

“There will be three teams. Freshman, JV, and Varsity. Freshman team is self explanatory, but just because you’re a freshman doesn’t mean you’ll be on freshman team. You could possibly do better or not make a team.” Tony chuckles. He watches boys, assuming they’re the freshman, look around wearily. The boy with the long black hair looks like he’s going to be sick.

“JV is junior varsity. Usually underclassmen are on this team and of course theres varsity. I hope you’re all a competitive bunch, it makes it funner; even makes me job harder.” Tony shines a grin that could outshine the sun. “Enough talking. Everyone up for warmups.”

“He seems determined.” Bucky said with a sheepish grin.

“But is he prepared?” Steve replies, jogging to the side of the gym everyone was meeting on.

“He likes a good competition. We’re the ones who should be prepared, especially for me.” Scott gleams while stretching his calves. Clint rolls his eyes while cracking his knuckles. Peter stays silent, desperately trying to focus on the sport.

“Alright boys. Jog, lunge, windmills, jog, skip, and sprint. Let’s go.” Tony barked with a blow of a whistle.

—-

Sweat dribbles down Peter’s back and chest. Some of his once fluffy hair is matting to his forehead. His forearms are turning red from the impact of the volleyballs plummeting at him over the net. His heartbeat and breath is all he can hear.

“This is the last serve, Steve.” Tony shouted from the other side of the net. “Spike it. Show me what you got.”

Steve nodded and threw the ball up. His hand smacked against it, making a sonic boom level of a sound. The smack echoed in Peter’s ears. He dived down onto his knees, sliding onto his belly as the ball bounces off of his forearms. It goes over the net, perfectly landing into Steve’s hands.

“Excellent work, uh, Parker! Yes, Parker.” Tony howls. Peter shakily stands up and nods in thanks. Tony blows his whistle, dismissing the boys. “Come to practice tomorrow, 2PM sharp, all of you.”

Peter jogs to the locker room. Soon, the changing room fills with conversations. About practice, how raw their forearms and knees were, and Coach Stark. Peter looks over to Bucky with his hand on the boy with the long hair’s shoulder. He looks shaken and tired.

“You did a great job today, Loki! You’re a better athlete than your brother.” Bucky boomed. Loki chuckled and looked down at his shiny sneakers. Peter smiles to himself and hops in the shower, lazily rinsing himself off. He could stay in the shower forever, but definitely not here. He dries himself off and changes back into his old school clothes. When he strolls out of the locker room, Steve is waiting for him.

“Mind if I walk you home?” Steve smiles and holds out his hand. Peter rolls his eyes and reluctantly grabs his hand.

“Whatever, dork.”

They walk out into the mild mid September air. The sunset illuminates the yellow taxis and brick buildings. At first they walk in silence, listening to the horns and passing chatters of people. Until Steve speaks up.

“Loki’s good. Like, really good.” Peter nods, not really caring to know who’s good and who’s not.

“Yeah, well, his brother is Thor after all.” Steve nods nervously.

“Bucky seems to be impressed.” He huffs under his breath. Peter shoves his hands into his pocket and furrows his eyebrows. “It takes a lot to impress him.”

“Why does it matter? You’ll make varsity, with Loki playing or not.” Peter scoffs, nothing touching the fact that Bucky is impressed. He knows Steve has always liked Bucky in more than a friendly nature. If he ever tells Steve he has a clue, his head would blow off to the moon.

“You’re right.” Steve mutters. They walk in silence until they reach Peter’s complex. Peter waves goodbye and walks up the steps to the door. However, something compels him and he looks back to see Steve still standing there.

“You gonna go home?” Peter utters.

“What do you think of the new coach?”

Peter pauses for a moment. “He’s alright, Go home, Rogers.”

Peter pushes open the door and leans up against it. He runs his hands through his damp hair and smiles. For the first time in a while, he’s looking forward to going to school tomorrow.

@winter-starker @imgonnadiebutohwell @whisperingstarkers @plueschpop @ironspiderkid @darker-soft-starker @tonyhstarks

#starker #parker x tony #high school au #volleyballstar!peter #coach!tony

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cianmars · 5 years ago

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Heart and soul in the stars:

AO3

Send me prompts

Chapter 1: No Air.

David sat on the staircase lacing up his sneakers, waiting for Jake to bound down the stairs, inevitably telling David to hurry up as though the child had been the one waiting.

He stood up as he heard feet descending the staircase, but when he turned around and looked up he realised that it wasn’t just Jake coming down the stairs, but Emma too. She would often wake up early, nowadays, but she would normally watch cartoons or play with some toys (which she didn’t admit to doing) or she’d go and wake Snow or Ben to keep her company. But it was unusual for her to be dressed to do any of those things, let alone in shorts and a tshirt hoodie along with sneakers she had obviously slipped on in a hurry as they were still undone. He reached his arms out to catch her as she nearly fell down the stairs.

“I’m coming running too.” She announced to him with a big smile.

David’s eyebrows flickered down into a frown for a half a second, he glanced to Jake who shrugged clearly he had nothing to do with it, he looked back at his daughter giving her a sympathetic smile. “Em, sweetie, why don’t you stay here, it’s early and Jakey and I run a really far way, if you still want to run later I’ll take you and Benny to the beach, okay?”

“No!” Emma whined her foot colliding with stair, her dad gave her a look but she was too frustrated to be ashamed or embarrassed. Instead she just looked at her father imploringly. “I wanna go with you and Jakey.”

“Emma.” David sighed deeply. He looked over at Jake.

“I don’t mind Em coming too.”

David wished Jake had insisted on having this time with just him, Emma had been sick a month ago and while she had made a full recovery the memory of her unconscious in a hospital bed would haunt him forever. But Jake acted like an older brother to Emma since she showed up, helping her adjust to the changes in the town, year, and her life, and he was just a kind big brother to her than he was to Ben. But right now David wished that Jake was a bit more selfish, if only to appease David’s own worries about his daughter. He sighed again. “Okay, but we’re not going to be running as far or as fast. Jake go grab us all a granola bar to have before our run, we can have breakfast laster.” He watched Jake dash off and stopped Emma from following him. “Sit down.” She did as she was told and he knelt in front of her, doing up her laces.

“Thanks Daddy.”

“No problem sunshine.” He helped her stand back up. “You need to take it easy, no going too fast, it wasn’t that long ago you were sick, if you need to take a break or a drink you let me know, okay?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“ Emma? ”

“Okay.” She agreed.

She and Jake wolfed down their granola bar and David led them out of the house, leaving a note for Snow to let him know that he had two of the three kids with him.

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He led his kids down the trail from their house which led into the forest, it was the route he and Jake often went on, but David was going to cut it in half for Emma’s sake, he knew that she was always full of energy, and perhaps this run would help, but he was taking it easy her first time out.

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He found himself chuckling as he jogged beside his kids, Jake kept pace, he was a swimmer and jogged in the same steady way he swam warm up lengths, Emma reminding David of a bee, she kept darting ahead and falling back, before darting ahead or behind once more.

David chatted to Jake as they jogged together, the boy was chattering about school, books he was desperate to buy, his friends, and his upcoming swim meet, and David happily asked him questions, he loved being able to be so involved with his sons’ lives, his father had never bothered to be in his before he had died, and he had missed out on so much of Emma’s that he was determined to play an active role in his sons, and his daughter’s now that she was back.

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“Can we still go to the beach later?”Jake asked his father, sending him a grin; for the most part Jake was like his mother, but he had inherited his eyes, his protective nature, and his smile from his father. “Me and Ben and Emma can have a sandcastle building competition.”

There were few things he loved more than the fact that his kids got along with each other so well. “I don’t see why not. What do you think Em, you wanna-” he turned back to look at Emma but his smile dropped when he realised that Emma was a little way back, stood still, but hunched other. “EMMA!” He quickly turned direction and shot back as fast as he could, Jake hot on his heels.

“Emmy!” Jakes eyes were on his sister as their father tried to get her to look at him. He could see Emma’s entire body moving as she panted. “Dad she can’t breathe!”

He knew that Jake was correct but he didn’t know why. “Were we going too fast? Did you get winded?”

Emma shook her head but that was all she could do, she was trying to suck in air through her mouth but she couldn’t get enough, her chest felt like it had a hundred elastic bands wrapped around it, squeezing it tight.

“O-Okay.” David frowned he didn’t understand. He pulled his backpack off and handed it to Jake. “Jakey find a drink in there for your sister for me.” He carefully took hold of Emma and helped her to the ground. She tried to slump down but he placed his hand on her back. “Keep sat up straight Emma.” He told her firmly, he still had no idea what was happening but he had been around men and women on battlefields who couldn’t breathe, he had a vague idea of how to help, but it was only a vague idea . “You’re going to copy my breathing, okay, nice and slow, just copy me.” He made sure that his own breathing was slow and steady, as calm as possible but exaggerated so that Emma could see him doing so, as he did he told her when to breathe in and out.

Jake passed the bottle of juice to his father, he bit his lip as he watched his sister sip the juice but it was clear that she was struggling to breathe. “D-Dad…?”

“Yeah bud?” David asked but he kept his eyes on Emma. “Hey, slower breathing, Em, just a bit slower.”

“We, me and Ben, we found an inhaler in her bag when she moved in, like Nick in my class has… is she having an asthma attack?”

David’s head snapped up to look at his son before looking looking back at his daughter wearily. “Emma Ruth, do you have asthma?”

Emma looked away from him, giving him an answer. She shrank in on herself when he practically growled her name, out of frustration, she had never really thought about tell them, and hadn’t planned on unless she needed to… apparently that had been a bad plan.

Asthma, why hadn’t he thought about asthma before? Why had Emma never told him she had it? Had she told Snow when his wife was cursed? He was so mad at her keeping this to herself, she must know how dangerous it was was. He couldn’t think about that right now. “Okay, okay,” He reassured both himself and his kids, “okay, Jakey get my phone out of my backpack, I need you to ring 911, tell them where we are, say that your sister’s having an asthma attack, Emma I need you to stay nice and calm, we’re going to try and breathe slow again, in through your nose, and out through your mouth. Just copy me, kiddo.”

As David tried his best to keep his head and to keep his breathing steady and helping Emma to try and control her breathing. He could also hear that Jake was worrying, on the phone 911, he reached over to squeeze his hand, trying to comfort both of his kids at the same time.

It wasn’t long before the ambulance was so close that David could hear it. He finally took his eyes off of Emma. “Jakey, you remember your way back home from here, don’t you?”

“Yeah, it’s just straight back down the trail.”

“Good boy, I need you to run back home, if mom’s not up then wake her up and tell her what’s happened with your sister, that I’m going to the hospital with her. Can you do that for me?”

“I can do that.” Jake agreed quickly, he wasn’t really one to kick up a fuss anyway, but he could tell how scared his sister was, and he had a feeling that his dad was pretty scared too. “Feel better Emmy.” He offered to his sister, he handed back his father’s backpack to him, before taking off at full speed back down the path which led to their family home.

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The ambulance ride had passed in a blur for Emma, she felt exhausted, despite having been running for about 10 minutes and having woken up feeling fine. In the ambulance she tried her best to stay awake but only because she kept being told to do so by the paramedic. There was a oxygen mask over her face obstructing her view every time her eyes blinked shut she opened them fast to try and tried taking her mask off to find her father, she kept being stopped from doing it and David’s voice would reassure her that he was there.

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The oxygen helped a lot, she was already feeling better by the time she got to the hospital but the mask was kept on as tests were performed on her. Her dad kept soothing her but other than that he was quiet, not quite his usual self, not that Emma was alert enough to realise this.

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“I’m looking for my daughter, Emma, she came in with my husband-.”

“Snow!”

Snow’s head snapped away from the nurses’ station to her husband who was walking towards her. She smiled at the nurse she had been about to asked then allowed herself to show her true worried face to her husband. “How is she?”

“She’s a lot better, they gave her oxygen in the ambulance and a nebuliser here to help her with her breathing, as well as some steroids which she nearly threw up taking. When you were cursed, the first time when you were living in the lost with Em, did she mention having asthma?”

Snow’s lips set in a thin line as they always did when she was truly angry. “No. The first I heard of it was when Jake ran home and told me about it.”

“If he hadn’t known about her old inhaler…” He shook his head in frustration. “I would have still brought her here but not so quickly, anything could have happened in that time. I can’t believe she’d be so, so stupid.”

“Me neither.” She shook her own head as she tried not to storm over, to the curtained area David had come from, and read her daughter the riot act.

David took her hand and gently squeezed it as he looked down at her. “Trust me, I’m beyond mad at her too, but let’s wait to talk to her about it until she’s fully better, it’s not like she’ll be leaving our sights for a while anyway, she’ll be safe.”

“I agree. We’ll stress how dangerous her not telling us was and how we’re disappointed.”

David nodded his head. He let out a sigh. “I was just hoping that she was finally over this sort of thing. She’s been doing so well recently. It’s like two steps forward, one step back.”

Snow squeezed his hand. “That’s still one step forward.”

The corners of David’s lips tugged up into a small smile. He had been married to his wife for nearly 20 years yet her hope and positive attitude still took him by surprise every now and again. “You’re right. We should get back over to her before she takes it upon herself to find us. I think she’ll be sent home soon, the medicine worked, they were just waiting for the treatment to finish and a doctor to check her over. We’re over here.” He tilted his head towards the closed curtains then led his wife in the same direction.

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As soon as Snow saw Emma her anger melted away, temporarily at least, she wrapped her arms around her daughter and held her as tight as she dared. They stayed like that until the doctor came over to unhook her from the mask and check her over.

“Can I go home now?”

Her begging the second the mask came off made David and Snow laugh a little, they were relieved that she was still in fairly good spirits, even if she wasn’t yet completely back to her old self.

“You’re not moving from here until the doctor tells us you can, baby, so hush so we can hear what she has to say.”

The doctor bit back a smile. “Well by the looks of it Emma is ready to go home, I’ll prescribe new inhalers for you and steroid tablets, eight twice a day for two weeks, once you’ve finished them it’s important you come back for a checkup, we need to make sure that your asthma is well managed so that this doesn’t occur again.”

“Thank you so much.”

“You’re grounded to the couch until you’re completely better.” David wrapped his arm around his daughter cuddling her into his side.

“By our standards better.” Snow added signing one of Emma’s forms to discharge her.

“That means I’m never getting off the couch.”

David shrugged. “Shame.” He smirked then dropped a kiss onto her head.

“You can watch movies.” Snow suggested, Emma being on the couch forever sounded good to her right about then, at least Snow would know where she was and that she was safe.

Emma was about to mumble about them being overprotective, or hover-parents, but she remembered how David looked and sounded when he found out about her asthma, she decided to stay quiet and just cuddle into his side.

#heart and soul in the stars verse #the script verse #hasits verse #daddy charming #mama Snow #Emma charming #Jake charming #Jacob charming #Benjamin charming #ben charming #David charming #snow charming #ouat #ouat fic #fanfic #ouat fanfiction

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moirsvirtuesz · 5 years ago

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get to know me (ask meme)

thanks for the tag, @buisnesspartners

nicknames: linds, lou, lindsey lou, little bit, munchkin,

zodiac: Taurus

hogwarts house: def a hufflepuff

last thing i googled: a question from my physics hw lol

favourite musician(s): Lorde, jon bellion, khalid , Billie Eilish

song stuck in my head: downton abbey theme song idk why

following: 574

followers: 697 lol lost a ton today

do you get asks?: only if im being chaotic

amount of sleep: depends bc i love napping so i will end up staying up late so idk like 6? maybe 7?

lucky number: i don’t really have one

what are you wearing?: nike shorts, a sorority XL tshirt aka what i wear everyday

dream job: project manager for a software firm is realistic but also i dream of being a school office lady at my kids school one day lol bc they know ALL the drama

dream trip: backpacking around europe with no set amount of time

instrument: i played flute for 3 years in middle school and piano a bit when i was a kid

languages: english and the first F i ever got on a test was in spanish

current favorite song: Deep End by hapi, Meltdown by Lorde, Vertigo by Khalid (been loving it for awhile but i recently been listening to it alot,

random fact: in 1980 1 GB hard drive cost $40,000 and weighed over 500 pounds

aesthetic: horse girl but like.... rich horse girl

i tag @bivirtuealone @tmvirtue

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suckitsurveys · 5 years ago

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Coffee mugs, teacups, or water bottles? Yes those are things that hold liquids. Bubblegum or cotton candy? Cotton candy. How did your elementary school teachers describe you? “This little bitch...” Do you prefer to drink soda from cans, bottles or cups? If it’s really really really really cold I can drink from a can. Otherwise, I prefer a cup filled to the rim with ice.

Earbuds or headphones? Headphones.

Movies or TV? I like both but I prefer TV shows because the story continues for a longer period of time and allows for more character growth and development. Favorite smell in the summer? Bonfires, sunscreen, coconut, rain, fireworks, fresh cut grass. Game you were best at in PE/gym? I loved floor hockey honestly. I sucked at it but it was fun.

What do you have for breakfast on an average day? Cereal. Name of your favorite playlist? I have one called “BOSTON” that I originally made for our trip to, well, Boston. But it has since become a catch-all for new songs and songs to listen to while driving or when we have parties/bonfires. I don’t like to just play my whole song library because there’s a lot of soundtracks and musicals in there and they don’t make for smooth transitions. Like I don’t necessarily want a Bob’s Burgers song playing at a party, ya know? But I want it in my library in case I want to listen to it. Lanyard or key ring? Key ring. Favorite non-chocolate candy? Caramels.

Favorite book you had to read for school? Nope. Most comfortable position to sit in? Legs off to the side i guess. Most frequently worn pair of shoes? Right now my Birkenstocks. Ideal weather? If I don’t have to be outside, rainy and warm. If I do have to be outside and not swimming, Sunny, high 70Fs, low 80Fs. If I am swimming, sunny, and in the 90Fs. Pencils or pens? Pens. Obsession from childhood? Pokemon. Favorite crystal? I don’t know. Favorite activity to do in warm weather? SWIMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM Favorite activity to do in cold weather? Stay the fuck inside. Five songs to describe you? I can’t even come up with one. Best way for someone to bond with you? Talk to me about BoJack Horseman. Top 5 favorite Vines? I can’t tell you the actual names but these are the ones that come to mind: “Look at all those cthickens” “I won’t hesitate, bitch!” “Look it, look it. It’s fricken bats. I love Halloween.” “FUCK YA CHICKEN STRIPS.” “I said whoever threw that paper, your mom’s a ho.” Ads you have stuck in your head? None. Average time you fall asleep? 11pm. What is the first meme you remember seeing? Oh god. Honestly it was probably those Rejected Cartoons because they were one of the Oscar nominated shorts and my dad took me to see them in the theater when I was 10.

Suitcase, duffel bag, or backpack? Yes those are things to hold clothes. Lemonade or tea? Tea. Last person you texted? Ellen.

Jacket pockets or pants pockets? Everything should have pockets. Favorite type of jacket? Hoodies. Sci-fi, fantasy, or superheroes? Fantasy I guess. What clothes do you sleep in? Tshirt and undies. Or nakers. Favorite type of cheese? Goat and Bleu. And sharp cheddar. What saying or quote do you live by? "Love her, but leave her wild.” What are you currently stressed about? Life. Favorite font? Georgia or Helvetica. What did you learn from your first job? Thai food is delicious. Favorite fairy tale? Is Alice in Wonderland a fairy tale? Favorite tradition? We have this new one where we take a picture with my niece (now nieces) every year around Easter of them in bunny ears. It started when my sister was pregnant with her first and I took a picture of her with bunny ears around her stomach. And then the next year we took a picture of Thea with them on. And thus it was born. Talent you’re proud of having? Lol. If you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be? Dude I don’t know. If you were an anime character, what genre of anime would it be? I thought Anime was the genre haha. Character you relate to? So many. Favorite website from your childhood? HomeStar Runner. Any scars? Yes.

Favorite flower? Gardenia. Any good luck charms? My nieces. Least favorite flavor of food or drink? Berry flavored things. Left or right handed? Right. Least favorite pattern? I’m not a huge argyle person. Worst subject in school? Chemistry. Favorite weird flavor combo? I don’t know. When did you lose your first tooth? I was probably like 5 or 6. Favorite potato food? Fries for sure. Gas station coffee or grocery store sushi? Most grocery store sushi around here is actually pretty good. Do you call them fireflies or lightning bugs? I use them both interchangeably. PC or console gaming? Console. Writing or drawing? Writing. Podcasts or talk radio? Either. Barbie or Polly Pocket? OH YIKE both were my JAM as a kid. Fairy tales or mythology? Both.

Cookies or cupcakes? Both. Your greatest fear? Having my fears used against me. Your greatest wish? Health. Who would you put before everyone else? My nieces. Lamps, overhead lights, fairy lights, or sunlight? Yes. Nicknames? Hannah Conda. Favorite season? SUMMER. Favorite app on your phone? I don’t really have a favorite. What is your desktop background? A galaxy.

How many phone numbers do you have memorized? My dad’s. My sister’s. A few extensions for work Favorite historical era? They’re all interesting.

#surveys

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urfavkilljoy · 3 years ago

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She didn't expect that I would notice she wasn't wearing a bra [MF]

Years ago, due to an interruption in child care, I was working at home one week over the summer. I had arranged a playdate for my youngest son, his brand new best friend was coming over for the day.

I was trying to get some stuff done before he got dropped off, together with a neighbor's kid, there would be bedlam for the rest of the day. Suddenly I heard a knock at the door, a glance at the clock told me that they were a half hour early. I had just thrown on a pair of grey nylon athletic shorts after my morning workout shower, not really presentable. Still I figured I could get away with it just to answer the door. I threw on a baggy tshirt and ran to the front of the house.

Opening the door, I find Matt and his mom, Kate, arguing with each other about how long she'd allow him to stay. "But Mom! I brought all my stuff." he whined, showing her how stuffed his backpack was. "And Jack (my son) has cool stuff too!" She looks at me through the screen door and silently laughs out of his eyesight. He flings the door open and she grabs his hand. "Give me a kiss goodbye!"

"Mom! You have to come inside! Come ON!" he pulls her into the living room. "You've got to see Jack's new lightsaber!"

Before she can resist, he's pulled her into the kitchen, which doubled as the warrior room and the holodeck, depending on which were playing at the time. A quick battle between Matt and Jack satisfied their desire to show off, and they disappeared out the back door into the yard, clutching weapons and capes.

She turned to me as the commotion from the human tornadoes subsided, and shrugged helplessly. "Sometimes you just have to go with the flow. Remember when we had that much energy?" "No, not really." I laughed. She paused, then looked at her phone. So when should I pick him up? I looked at her for the first time since they arrived, able to really get a good look as her eyes were on her phone. I have a hair appt at 2, that should be an hour and a half.

"So anytime after 3:30?" As she moved, I realized that she wasn't wearing a bra under her loose summertime tshirt. She was slender with a modest bust, her shirt was loose, but still caught on her boobs as she moved. The abstract pattern obscured but didn't completely hide her nipples.

She looked up unexpectedly and caught me staring. Instinctively she crossed her arms across her chest. "I had been working around the house and realized we were late, so I grabbed Matt and ran out. I thought I'd just drop him at the door." She attempted to explain her apparel. "I didn't even do my makeup or hair", absentmindedly raising a hand to her head. That motion caused her tshirt to rise and catch on her breast, pulling it up, and accentuating the half sphere shape.

"Oh geez", she said, looking down at her chest, aware that her motion has just shown off the goods even more, rather than minimizing her exposure.

"Don't worry about it, I misread the time, too, I'm not dressed to go outside myself either. And it's a refreshing break from the moms who have to spend 90 minutes in front of the mirror to go to the grocery store or take their kids to school at 7:30 am."

"I know, right? Must be nice to have only one kid. Or a nanny." "Or both" we said at the same time, smiling, thinking of a mutual acquaintance who had quit her high powered law firm in order to stay at home with her kid, and then immediately hired a nanny to do all the grunt work.

We heard a yell outside and looked out the back window to see 3 little boys race by. They had found the neighbor kid and were furiously engaged in some sort of battle. She turned back, and we faced each other, each of us leaning back against opposite counters. Her back was to the window, I could still see out the window.

"Remember I spend all my spare time with bicyclists, most of the women wear less than you are now, so don't worry about you are, or not wearing." She stuck her chest out for a moment. "It's not like I run around town with a bra. It's just that the dog was barking when I got out of the shower and I needed to throw something on to let him out, and I never got back upstairs to get fully dressed."

"Really, it's ok. No complaints here," I winked. "And then same thing happened to me, although no dog. I just threw on shorts on after my shower, and then heard you guys down at the door."

As we talked I felt myself to start to thicken, and hoped I could keep it under wraps. My shirt was long enough and baggy enough that I would be safe.

"Are you talking to me commando?" She laughed. "So we're even. sort of. I did put undies on. She spun around and lifting her shirt up a bit, slid her hand over her ass. You can't tell, though, can you?"

My eyes followed her hand and at that I felt myself go from meaty to stiff. "Nope, can't tell at all. You should be more concerned if you ended up in the frozen food section" I teased. "Oh my god now I'm self conscious about my ass AND my boobs. But you're lucky - with your long shirt I can't tell at all that you're commando."

"If I was walking around without a shirt you could definitely tell. That's why I keep a shirt on even just around the kids."

"Well they're outside, so you don't have to keep it on now." she winked.

"Yeah but they could pop in at any moment, that'd be hard to explain why I didn't have a shirt." "If it's hard the least you could do is lift your shirt and show me your shorts, so I can see if I can tell if you're commando," she teased back.

At this point, I was starting to stick out, if I lifted my shirt up she'd definitely see a tent. I thought for a second, but that's obviously what she wanted, so I obliged. I lifted my shirt to my waist, and she looked down.

"Oooo you are definitely not wearing any underwear! And I can tell that you like the fact that I'm not wearing a bra!"

She threw her shoulders back a bit, pushing her chest forward. Now not only were the curves of her tits visible through the binding of the cotton T, but her nipples were now obvious as well, poking through the powder blue fabric. I didn't make any pretenses that I was staring at her tits now, and she very clearly enjoyed the attention.

She glanced down at my shorts again, "Yes, you do like my boobs, don't you!" as the tent became more pronounced. "Since you were nice enough to lift your shirt for me, I suppose I could do the same, would you like that?" She looked over her shoulder out the window, making sure she could see the kids racing around in the backyard. Then turning back to me, she looked me in the eye, and casually pulled her shirt up to her collarbones, exposing perfectly formed tits, good sized pink nipples, just a bit of sag to them.

She arched her back, causing her t-shirt to rest on her collarbones, and nonchalantly raised her arms and put her hands behind her head, allowing me to take in the view at my leisure.

I looked her up and down, a big smile on my face, and licked my lips. "You're truly a delight! Thank you for sharing!" She looked me up and down in return, focusing on my shorts, and then responded, "I'd love to see what you're packing in there." and then stepped forward, reaching down under my balls with her fingers, her t-shirt still caught on her collarbone, allowing her to brush my chest with her bare tits.

"Mmmmm, this feels good!" as she cupped my balls and pressed the palm of her hand against the knob, sticking straight out. Then she wrapped her hand around the shaft and started to squeeze and pump it. "It's so nice to know I can cause a reaction like this after three kids!"

Then she reached inside the waistband and wrapped her hand around me, without the nuisance of any material in the way. She pumped me a few times, then looked behind her through the window again. "Can you see them?" She asked. "Yes, I can see the whole back yard."

"OK, how about if you sit up on the counter." I hopped up, and adjusted my shorts, that had gotten twisted when I did so. "Here," she motioned, tugging one leg up. Suddenly she had pulled my cock out of the leg of my shorts, and began stroking it, pointing it up to the ceiling. "Keep an eye on the boys." she paused, and "I'll keep a mouth on your boys" she giggled, pushing me back and spreading my legs so that she could pull my balls out of my shorts as well.

Then she leaned over and swallowed my cock in one quick move, while cupping my balls and tugging them away from my body. A few quick sucks and then she turned her head and tried to suck my balls into her mouth. I leaned back further, to give her more room, and she was able to get both her mouth. With her hand pumping me, I was unexpectedly close to orgasm, and my legs started to shake.

She let go of my balls and reminded me to keeping watching. "Don't lose control! Can't have them surprising us!" Then she swallowed my cock again, sucking hard and fast, cooing as she did so. I tried to keep my eyes on the backyard, but it was difficult to not close my eyes as I got closer and closer to coming.

"I want to make you come all over yourself right now!" she laughed. "But how would we explain the mess? Or that you changed clothes?" She took me in her mouth again, and finished me off. My legs spasmed and my feet flew up into the air as I climaxed, shooting into her mouth, over and over again. Once I was done, she pulled off, slowly, trying to suck that last drop out. Then she stood back up, stuck her bare chest out at me while licking her lips, and pulled her shirt down.

Looking back down at my crotch, she grabbed a hand towel and wiped off the couple of drops leaking from me, and then pulled the leg of my shorts back down.

"Hmmmph, that was the most unusual play date I've taken Matt to." We checked on the boys in the back one more time and I walked her to the door. She reached down and squeezed my balls again, and suddenly looked concerned. "I don't think I can do that again. I hope you're not expecting it too. I don't know what got over me."

"Hey it's perfectly OK. Like that once-in-a-lifetime vacation. It'll be a great memory. I hope you think it's a great memory."

"I'm not sure. Maybe." She brightened up. "At least John (her husband) is going to get some fantastic guilt sex tonight!" She laughed. "I'll be back at 4 to pick him up, after my hair appointment." She ran her hand through her hair. "Would you call this 'fresh blowjob hair?" with a wicked look. Then pretending to scold me, "And I'll be wearing a bra. You go put some underwear on!" and she turned and headed to her car.

For those of you wondering, she didn't even come to the door on pickup, I had her son ready and he went right to her car. But yes, a great memory, one I've played back from my spank bank many times.

submitted by /u/RolandLord [link] [comments] from Gonewild Stories https://ift.tt/3cgN9oQ

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sweet-xoxo-thatcares · 3 years ago

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I remember when dad couldn't pick me up after our 2nd transfer bus got pulled out from dropping me and the other kids in my neighborhood. It was bus 130.

That whole end of my 7th grade year, I walked the way home by myself. I cut through northern high parking lot and around that big ol' man made water basin that they had there. It stood across the view of a gas station and a Publix. Man, did they have some good ass chocolate chip cookies, not too hard and not too doughy. It was like a soft, hard cookie dough cookie that barely browned in the oven, but just enough for the thick chocolate chunks to melt in your mouth with that buttery dough. I never walked over there though because...mom wouldn't have allowed it...and I was way too scared and nervous to run across the street with those cars there. (Vs now, I do that as a fun, little escape running super speed as soon as the walk light comes on lol 😆 mom and dad think I'm nuts for doing that cause they're afraid I could get hit. But when you blast Jasiah, Denzel Curry, and Suicide Boys in your Ear you feel like you can do anything. So I kick in nitro)

Anyways, the walk was about two to three miles, and at the time that was the longest mom and dad had ever let me walk by myself. Mom wasn't there because she had already moved to Mississippi for her new job. I wanted to help out Dad, since he had to pick up my sisters from school at the same time I got to our base for school bus dropoffs. It was so fun back then to ride the school bus. I always sat near the window, or at least tried....I hated sitting by people I didn't know because I was afraid people were gonna make fun of me for being big or having sweaty armpits. I have noooo idea why, but even my sisters went through it to around their puberty time. It's like our glands produced so much more sweat when we were stressed, working out, or just barely even sweating in Florida. Like all of my shirts always had this itchy, cracked, dry spots in the armpits because I had to swipe sooooo much deodorant on it was crazy. I remember counting it out, like 16, 27 times I would whip cream my damn armpits because kids make fun of you for being fat, now everytime they saw my sweaty, funky pits and yes they used to get that bad it was annoying as hellll. And Bighead used to make fun of me for that. I used to call him all types of names cause he was such an asshole to me and my friends, practically tortured me for fun all through out middle school until we later on had to move to Mississippi too from Florida.

I walked that walk because I never wanted to put my pride to the side and just ask Bighead, the idiot who lived in the same neighborhood as me, like I literally stayed about 10 min walk away...and I could see him and his mom and his sister, who I was friends with...drive pass me each and every day. I would listen to music on the radio with my earbuds in my turquoise mp3 player. They kept playing "There goes my baby" by Usher alot at that time.

I even remember reading The Giver on the walk home, because I really didn't wanna miss my favorite home TV shows like iCarly, sometimes Arthur or whatever cartoons on Cartoon Network.

I used to think about Bighead alot when that song would play at the same time his mom drove by. I still hated his guts though, always picking on me, being a hassle...it was a honest waste of a crush to have even liked him. He never changed as I found out later on in high school when we both reached back out to each other, on and off. Total jackass. Probably a narcissist...

Speaking of books, Ms. Simmons gave us this book about the holocaust called Night by Elie Wiesel. It was a good book and Im shocked crazy earring Ms. Simmons thought it was ok for us to read about kids and people getting hung, but I was glad she did. It had an audio book that cams with it, I almost wanted to watch it if they ever made it into a movie.

I think Ms. Simmons might have inspired me to wear different, quirky earrings like that. Cause she was the 1st white woman I ever seen wear them like that or even asymmetrical earrings. She loved alot of color and if she wore cherries, she had cherry earrings, sorta like that. Matchy-matchy. She even had a candy cart after school so I sorta liked her for being creative. That was until she pissed me off about a test,

And I don't play about my tests.

My ass was on the line, that's why.

I hated getting bad grades at home, because who do you think starts checking up on you more??

Yea, and I hate being micromanaged...if I even got a C or a low B, dad would lecture me on doing a better job cause he didn't want my grades to fall 😒 I always tried to explain myself when I felt like it was an unfair grade cause some people put trick questions or essay sections. And I used to hate those. Now I double check everything and I have alot more to say, instead of being afraid that I'll get it wrong, fucking up my chances to get a closer chance at an A or a B. Daddy said to always go for A's, always do your best. But that meant cramming my short term, photographic memory with alot more papers and notes.

Boy did I used to hate taking notes. Now after everything, I see I need notes to keep up on knowledge and bullshit from misinformation given to me by other people.

I used to actually be so innocent, only caring about not disappointing my parents and not making them look bad when we go to school or go out with them in public. And of course kicking Bighead in the nuts everytime he made me feel like the ugliest girl in school just because he made a comment about my fat rolls popping out in my bright, tight, stretchy cotton tshirts or from me not smelling good from being sweaty 🙃 he had a whole bunch of people I didn't even know, just laughing at me just because he made it seem like it was ok for them to laugh at me because he was. He started it. And it kept going 6th and 7th grade...it followed me all the way until I....well until I realized Darius wasn't my person either 😑

Fairytales and movies blew up these love scenarios, and even in anime or Korean dramas (based on Japanese anime) where the quiet, shy girl ends up falling for the aloof, emotionally unavailable guy who's cute and he's popular, "but oh, he would never talk to me or look at me that way" sighhhh, babygirl feeling.

Then at the end he reveals his true feelings and it turns out he made her suffer and wait for him for so long, just because he was too shy to tell her or too ashamed because he didn't want to be made fun of by his friends. And then they kiss and live happily ever after.

That's what the old me in middle school and high school used to think of love in high school was like. Boy, was I stupid 🤣 that's the most dumbest shit I ever heard. People wtfff???!! Why the fuck is it expected for us to be submissive, take this boy's bullshit and commital issues to just you, as if him showing you any kind of attention is worthwhile the wait as if he's the best thing in the world, letting you into his circle like he's vip. Which is not true. Because when you look at somebody like that for so long and then you let them get away with treating you like shit, just because you like them...is so not cool and you deserve better. Looks can only last so long.

And maybe that's why I had to look at that lesson again from somebody like Jay, chubby, but cute, but still not as masculine as Bighead, where at home in Florida, boys who didn't care about you as much, athletes, and mixed/black/white/Asian skinnier people were popular and you weren't....because of your clothes, shoes, your big hands, big feet so you had to wear boy shoes, your thick, strong legs, your height, your double chin, your sweaty gland disorder from puberty, your fat rolls on your back, and even your backpack....was not cool or even popular.

You were different so you just didn't fit in with everybody. But it made me feel alone, cause nobody new looked at me, talked to me, or even asked me where I got my new Adidas (cause I actually did like Adidas).

After awhile I stopped caring and didn't care to give new people a try. I'd rather eat by myself than to eat with people who made me feel unwelcome with stares, stressing me out because I don't know what they're judging me on or was gonna comment on me next. It was so aggravating for me just to speak to someone random unless we had to because of class. I really don't remember nobody was calling me ugly, but just for them to comment on anything little thing or how my hair looked like momma did, really hurt.

And it was mindfucking me. Because the people I ended up running away to, did the same thing as them. Reminding me of home in Florida, where comments felt like mom's pinches. Reminding me that I'm not doing a good enough job of representing her, or just looking good enough to be liked or told I looked great today. Because I rarely got compliments until I got a perm redid, or I got braids. I'm glad I rebeled against perms because my ends kept breaking off and I would hate how rough the texture would get and I wore bonnets/wraps that kept falling off because I'm a wild sleeper, always kicking and moving around. Maybe that wasn't a good mattress match for me idk....but taking care of permed hair was so frustrating. They said don't use too much heat to flat iron or flat iron too much, but your hair don't look good as is, not being straight and I hated how that Florida humidity would poof up my hair because our school was not an all indoor school. There was only the 7th grade hallway and the gym in AC, but everything was fucking outdoor, concrete style. So you was always hot, always sweaty. So not the same in Michigan. I always thought I looked like Dora with my orange tan and black Bob hair. I never liked taking pictures in middle school because I felt so ugly just because no boy at school had asked me out, and the boy I wanted was a little ass, scrawny, bony bully, picking on me at school for how I looked and how I dressed, and my sweaty, funky pits and even my boobs. He made me hate my big boobs. He always made fun of them in how I ran when he would pass me on the track with his friends. It was hard enough to have older boys say something when you got DD's at such a young age....I hated them. I would have donated mine to the girl with A cups because I hated them being made fun of or being commented on. It was embarrassing for me when ppl would ask me what size are they and I felt pressured to say what size. I hated when a group of people would come up to me to say something, I would go defensive, excited, anxious, tense, and then almost ready to fight if they said something I didn't like to hear cause constant criticism made me not wanna hear any of it. And mom didn't make it no better "do you want people talking about you?" It was just a hassle to please her and she almost always bought clothes that either felt uncomfortable to wear, but was cute for her, so she made me wear it, or she just wanted it because of the patterns she liked. I rarely had a choice or say in anything. And that I didn't like too, because it's my body. But to them, it belonged to them and I had to do what they said. Wearing clothes that felt unreal, unmanageable because most of it in my closet weren't really mine, they were hers.

I guess she got the memo, so she started doing gift cards. I can't believe I used to wear fuchsia or hot pink so much and my skin color down there looked like a browned, golden-orange. We used to wear alot of orange and bright green too. Green and gold used to be mom's favorite colors. It reminded me of Christmas 🎄 which I also miss too.

Christmas in Florida used to be the greatest because we had a house full with aunty and uncle and the cousins. Flint used to feel the warmest because when we visited got the holidays, everybody was there. All in one place. We were together, celebrating, eating homemade country style, traditional food all night long, with the kids in my other grandma's basement watching movies and playing games, and the adults upstairs. I always felt like the baby and later on the middle child between both, child and adult.

And I'm kinda seeing now I got stuck this way, people pleasing towards both sides, between the adults and the kids because I was so used to being the middle man, the negotiator, the even-steven, fair and square, Charlie Brown in my family as being the oldest. I always felt the need to keep both sides on one accord, because sometimes we misunderstood each other. Cause that's the way dad brought it to me, he was Mr.negotiator between me and my mom growing up. He got to have fun and play games and sports, watch cartoons with me as a kid, and then at home with mom he would do romantic, adult stuff for mom like drink out of these expensive looking wine glasses and chocolate strawberries 🍓

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thatishogwash · 7 years ago

Text

Bad Days Made Better

Summary: Sawamura is having a bad day until his boyfriends cheer him up.

AO3

Warnings: None.

Sawamura was having a Bad Day. The kind that starts off by waking up in terror because he accidentally set his alarm to PM instead of AM and missed one of his morning lectures and ends up with him getting yelled at by a customer for five minutes and then having to sit through a demeaning conversation with his manager. Actually no, if the day had ended like that Sawamura would have been happy because he could have just gone back to his dorm, curled up in bed promised himself that tomorrow would be better.

Except for the fact that it was Halloween Weekend and his entire dorm floor was having a massive party. There was no peace to be had and Sawamura, knowing his roommates the way he did, knew his dorm would not be a safe place to stay.

Sawamura had walked thirty minutes because of course, of course he forgot his bus pass in his room and he had already walked ten minutes to the bus before realizing it and had to endure the disappointed and disgusted looks of the bus driver and passengers when he had to slouch his way back off the bus. Sawamura continued on foot, in the rain because did he mention it was downpouring? It was only naturally storming when he had a twenty minute walk away from campus.

Sometimes Sawamura regretted moving to Tokyo. The city was constantly noisy and crowded, the heat and humidity seemed to stick to him and keep him down for days on end and the winters weren’t any better. He was hours away from his family, who he loved and always knew how to make his days better, and most of his friends had to school elsewhere. He had to get a job in a fastfood restaurant where he was continually degraded on a daily basis and he had to nearly quit the volleyball team because his school work was suffering.

University was not all it was cracked up to be. He, along with most of the student body, were on near-constant breakdowns from too much coursework and not nearly enough sleep. Or food. Sawamura had not managed to eat anything all day and his body was suffering for it.

It seemed like Tokyo was rejecting him and Sawamura, the guy who never gave up, was ready to call it quits.

Which led Sawamura to a dingy looking apartment thirty minutes away from his own dorm, staring at a door with no numbers. There was a little hook where the numbers had been but they were long gone. Stolen or broken.

Sawamura was dripping on the tiled floor of the hallway as he stared at the unmarked door, thinking about turning around and maybe camping out at the library. He had done it before, more times than he was willing to admit to, and he really didn’t feel like pushing his bad mood onto anyone else. Especially not the two people that seemed like Tokyo’s only saving grace at that moment.

The door was pulled open before Sawamura could make the decision to walk away or stay and a body came into view. Bokuto looked surprised to see Sawamura, but that surprise quickly gave way to elation as he grinned widely at him.

“Daichi!” Bokuto hopped happily over to him before hugging him with no care to the fact he was getting wet. “I thought you were pizza, but you’re much better than pizza.” Sawamura was dragged inside the apartment.

“Was it pizza?” Kuroo called out from the living room.

“No it’s Daichi!” Bokuto shouted back.

“Oh, I couldn’t tell with you hollering out in the hall.” Kuroo snickered, something sounded like it was dying on the tv.

“You cheat, I paused the game!” Bokuto pulled Sawamura towards the living room.

“Bo, I’m going to get the floor wet.” Sawamura complained though he didn’t try to pull back.

“That’s fine, he can clean up the water when he goes to clean up the soda he dripped all over the floor and still hasn’t cleaned up.” Kuroo said without glancing up as he killed a video game character on the screen. By Bokuto’s anguished yell Sawamura could guess it was Bokuto’s character.

“Why are you walking out in the rain?” Bokuto asked, getting over his character's death quickly.

“Obviously he’s come to make a dramatic love confession to us, does he have a boombox or flowers?” Kuroo asked, turning around and looking over Sawamura before tossing the controller onto the old couch and getting up. He disappeared down the hall before anyone could answer him as Bokuto helped, or more like manhandled, Sawamura out of his backpack and coat.

Kuroo walked back out to the living room with a smile.

“Towel and clothes are in the bathroom, you can even use all our hot water to take a shower if you want.” Kuroo offered. Considering their ancient pipes only gave about five minutes of hot water that offer was equal parts generous and not. Sawamura nodded and made his way to the bathroom silently.

Sawamura told himself he would tell them they didn’t have to stay with him. They were clearly heading out, considering they were both dressed in costume. Well, as much as a costume broke college students could afford. They were wearing teenage mutant ninja turtle shell shirts with matching masks over their eyes, Bokuto’s in orange while Kuroo’s was purple. It was Halloween weekend, there was a party every five steps.

The sweatpants were Bokuto’s, a little baggy with a tear in the knee and a permanent reddish brown stain on the thigh but soft and comfortable. The shirt was one of Kuroo’s from work. He worked at a store that made customizable tshirts, it was mostly for tourists but it was also run by a bunch of college kids so they continually making their own, usually with dirty English sayings on them.

Sawamura hung his wet clothes over the shower door before walking out, he could hear Bokuto and Kuroo arguing about what the proper use of a cheater was.

“Hey hey hey Daichi! The pizza just arrived.” Bokuto said with excitement and they both looked like they were waiting for Sawamura to appear before eating. Sawamura sat down in between the two. “We saved a creamsicle flavor just for you.” Bokuto presented the neon orange soda to Sawamura with flair, he couldn’t help but smile a little at that.

“Thank you,” Sawamura said, which seemed to be the cue for them all to start digging into the pizza boxes. “You two don’t have to stay in for me, I think I’m going to head to bed right after I eat.”

“What made you think we’re going out?” Kuroo asked as Bokuto piled two slices of pizza on top of each other before taking a large bite out of both.

“You’re in costume?” Sawamura glanced at both of them. Kuroo and Bokuto shared a look before Kuroo grinned.

“We always dress up for each other.” Kuroo said as Bokuto nodded.

“We like to look good.” Sawamura gave them a confused look. “It’s date night! We can go out any other night but all three of us haven’t been able to get together in a while.” Bokuto complained, dropping his head on Sawamura’s shoulder.

“We missed you.” Kuroo shrugged like he wasn’t blushing at the admission. He turned towards the tv, using the controller to push play on a movie they had queued up on netflix. Sawamura noted that it was one of the movies he had expressed interest in before.

Sawamura swallowed the sudden lump in his throat down as he slowly started to eat, letting himself relax into his boyfriends. Ever-restless Bokuto continually bumped his leg against Sawamura’s as he quickly devoured an entire pizza by himself. Sawamura pressed his leg against Bokuto’s, watched as the other man almost immediately calmed down.

Sawamura had been surprised at how easy a relationship was between the three of them. He had come to Tokyo with an aching heart. Yui and him hadn’t broken up on bad terms but they both knew their lives were heading in different directions and it would only be difficult for both of them separated by so many miles. It had been an easy friendship, the one he shared with Bokuto and Kuroo. Surprisingly easy considering how Sawamura once thought the only thing they all shared in common was volleyball. It was a strong enough connection to get them through the first few stages of friendship until Sawamura found himself at Kuroo and Bokuto’s shared apartment more often than his own dorm.

Once they were all done eating Kuroo stood up and walked down the short hall to a bedroom before coming back with his arms full of blankets. Bokuto had laid down, his head propped up on Sawamura’s thigh and his long legs hitched over the arm of the couch. Kuroo spread a blanket over Bokuto before making him lift his head so he could put a second one over Sawamura. Kuroo then curled up under the blanket with Sawamura, leaching warmth from Sawamura who pressed a lingering kiss to his temple in thanks.

Sawamura carefully ran his fingers through Bokuto’s hair. Between classes, volleyball, and a part time job Bokuto hardly ever had time to see to his hair. He had long since deviated from the spiked horns and for special occasions, or what Bokuto considered special occasions, he did it in a sort of messy pompadour style. Kuroo’s own hair had grown longer throughout the years. It was long enough now to put in a small ponytail at the nap of his neck, though after months of dealing with it falling in his face constantly Kuroo would go have it all cut off.

They had all grown in their own ways over the years. Sawamura and Kuroo wore glasses more often, the latter often times “losing” them after all nighters only to discover they were on top of his head. Bokuto had actually grown taller and they all had bulked out more as they went from growing awkward teenage bodies into adulthood.

“Feeling better?” Kuroo asked as they went onto their third movie of the night. He was absentmindedly tracing the muscles and veins in Sawamura’s hand, carefully running the pads of his fingers over the swollen knuckles on Sawamura’s middle and ring finger.

Sawamura nuzzled Kuroo’s hair in answer, complete contentment making him feel more relaxed than he had in days, perhaps weeks. He knew his previous doubts mostly came from sleep deprivation and hunger. They all had bad days but Sawamura had gotten so used to trudging through his own bad days that he forgot that he had two very willing boyfriends who were more than happy to spend a night in with him. To order pizza from his favorite place even though it’s more expensive and to save him the last orange drink and watch period movies where the subtitles sometimes don’t even make sense. They were willing to do that the same way Sawamura was willing to put off papers to let Bokuto curl up against him in bed, with the blinds closed tight and soft rock music playing from his phone just because Bokuto had a bad day and all he really needs after one is some physical contact. The same way Sawamura ignores Kuroo’s biting remarks when he’s on his third all nighter trying to finish a project that four people were suppose to work on but they all left everything for Kuroo to do. Sawamura would carefully extract Kuroo from his open laptop and multiple books and notes to push him gently towards the bathroom before saving his work. Kuroo would come out almost forty minutes later, looking ashamed and like a wet kitten before Sawamura would help him dry his hair, letting him know silently that it was alright.

Everyone had their bad days.

Sawamura sighed in contentment, letting his heavy eyelids close and thinking about how it wasn’t that bad of a day after all.

#my writing #fanfiction #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #sawamura daichi #Kuroo Tetsurou #Bokuto Koutarou #fluff #domestic

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