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whysodelirious08 · 2 years

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Don't Disappear - Eddie Munson x Female Reader

A/N: I'm really gunna try on this lmao but if it doesn't work or it's really bad, oh well. Let me know. This is also based in a time where its not so much based around the powers and upside-down, and Eddie doesn't, you know in this world I'm making.

- Please do not copy and repost elsewhere or steal my works. Thank you. -

[THIS TOOK ME 14 HOURS TO WRITE PLEASE READ IT LMAO *Crying*]

This is a dark fic! MINORS DNI. 18+. Read all TWs first. It's a horror/Thriller/Gore/Suspense. Smut at the end! So you can skip it if it's not your thing. :))

Ship: Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

(friendship but some feelings and kissing/making out. Maybe a relationship? I guess I'll know when I finish writing or you finish reading lol)

Plot: You and Eddie have been best friends since forever, you grew up together at the trailer park and were inseparable up until you disappeared, that was when you were both thirteen. Now you were nearly twenty and you're suddenly at high-school, avoiding him at every moment so that you don't have to reveal the dark truth. The tension builds, you argue, feelings are revealed and a new lease on life blossoms.

Word count (story content only. Not story info/notes/dates): 10k (10,824)

TW: Hidden feelings, Dark past, Tension, Avoidance, Vocal Arguments, Slight grabbing and pulling, Kissing/making out, Smut, Lying, Bullying, Blood, Kidnapping, On the run, Alcoholic parents, Drugs, Verbal abuse, Slurs, men eyeing up minor (briefly mentioned in summery), talk of death, swearing, 18+.

(If I've forgotten any TWs please comment below, politely.)

Note: (Up until 12th October 1979, everything written before dated timestamp takes places from September 1978 - October 1979)

You and Eddie had known each other since you were toddlers, him being a few months older than you which he always used as an excuse to get what he wanted, despite the fact he would almost always give into you after, just wanting to make a point. For the both of you, days consisted of make believe adventures and searching each others homes for enough money to get some candy while you walked around the outskirts of the trailer park. Though those days hunting for money was also a fear filled missions, worrying your parents would catch you and proceed to lock you in your bedroom for stealing. Eddie knew to be cautious, you two had signals and expressions so subtle that no one ever noticed. Though you wouldn't know that wasn't part of a regular childhood until later.

"Hey! Hurry up! He's going you see you!" Eddie pleaded in a voice just above a whisper, his eyes locked onto your father walking down the gravel path, coming back from work. Your heart was pounding in your chest, you could almost hear Eddie's too. Your tiny, twelve-year-old hands fumbling to pull the dollar bill from under the tight space of the cushion, the couch being the first spot you always checked. Neither of you had expected your father to come home early, as a result a dollar would have to do for now. You finally grabbed it and shoved it into your shoe, putting the couch back together and moving to the nearest space; the kitchen, as your father walked in.

He eyed you up and down, stopping where he was with a judgemental stare. You grabbed a cold glass of water and offered it.

"Welcome home, daddy..." You smiled, not too sweet but just enough. He grunted and took the glass, watching as you slipped away and out of the home. Your hands were visibly shaking, Eddie noticed and took one of them.

"I'll be back soon, daddy. We're going to walk about while it's still light" You called and waited for some acknowledgement before the two of you bolted out of there, tears brimming in your eyes, the adrenaline rushing through you was now settling. Eddie's hand, a little bigger in comparison, still clung to yours. He didn't say anything for a while, you noticed in his eyes that he had been just a terrified in that moment. You both sat on a grassy patch a ways from any of the trailer homes, you found yourself sniffling a little though the shock had worn off.

Sure, Eddie was usually argumentative, stubborn and prone to acting out but not to your or his family, you both knew better than that. He had tried it once, you had watched in fear the entire time as your father pinned him against the flimsy kitchen wall, you thought Eddie might've actually gone through it into the bathroom at one point. Both of you left your home and neither went back for that night. You had stayed at Eddie's, curled up in the same bed with what was left of a crumbling comic. None of the kids liked you or Eddie, you were always at school and he never was, when he finally did get into school he met a group of boys who were obsessed with a new found game called Dungeons and Dragons and that was when things started to get rocky between you two.

He spent more time away from the trailer park, leaving you with your alcoholic and abusive family, you two only saw each other at school and without him to step in, bullies quickly took that opportunity to separate you and bully you so badly that at times you even skipped school which became a concern for teachers, this lead to house calls where your parents had then find out that you were skipping and punished you harshly. This only lead to more days out of school as you waited for the bruises to heal. You two soon bickered any time you saw each other, you were lonely and you were always met with Eddie's guilty expression hidden by anger. This started a year before things took a frightening and a life changing turn for you, and an endless amount of guilt for Eddie as you would find out later on.

---

5th November 1978 [Saturday]

(A year before the event. An interaction with Eddie where it becomes evident things are not the same between you at school or home anymore)

You had been trying to talk to Eddie the entire day but now it was lunch and he had brushed you off three times, he tried to be nice to you but he still gave his excuses. You huffed as you sat at a table that was next to his, your back to his. And then came Francis Carmen, the boy who bullied you the most, even outside of school back when Eddie never attended.

"Oh look! It's the rat girl! Too poor to get new clothes Y/N?" He teased with a laugh as he grabbed your hair and let it slide from his fingers, admittedly it was messy and tangled but you barely had time in the day to look after yourself anymore. At twelve years old you were made to attend school, complete homework, clean, cook and run errands.

You hated that laugh. You wanted to take it and bottle it up, throw it into a well so he could never laugh like that to you or anyone ever again. He continued to ruthlessly tear into your appearance, your family, your lack of friends. Your glanced over at Eddie with a pleading look, he had usually defended you by now, way before it ever got to this point but he just frowned and turned away. Your heart sunk to your stomach and you know right then and there he had separated himself from you.

"Just leave me alone!" You asked quietly standing up with your tray of untouched food, taking what you were able to carry and just dumped the rest.

"What was that? Did you just talk back? Feeling brave, Rat?" He said as he headed toward you but you rushed out just in time.

----

The rest of that year had been a blur of insults from Francis, arguments with Eddie and bad grade reports from teachers. And of course being thrown about and yelled at by your parents. On Christmas break you got work from around town just to be away from home since you had no school for a while, sometimes finding anywhere else to sleep. Occasionally Eddie would come and talk but the conversations were short with a lot of silences in between.

"If you don't want to be my friend anymore, just say it. You don't have to pretend anymore. You have your new friends. You don't have to come and hang out with me just to make me feel better..." You stated as you sat on the tire swing, Eddie was stood behind you, you couldn't even face him.

You knew Eddie had a tendency to say things he didn't mean when his anger sparked up. This time was no different.

"No. I don't wanna be friends with you. You're clingy and annoying. And you're weak! So stop talking to me at school. Just stay away from me" He spat, his words like a spear through your heart. You said nothing, you couldn't do anything other than let the tears fall though they were hidden from sight as Eddie walked away. That was the last time you would hang out before the event took place.

(Converstation took place in December. Life carried on as usually until the next timestamp, when the both of you are now thirteen)

----

12th October 1979 [Friday]

(This is the day and the days thereafter the event took place. I will give some backstory first and proceed with the dark, violent, Gore event; kidnapping. You may skip over this and just acknowledge it was a kidnapping).

You had just celebrated your thirteenth birthday just a few days prior, having actually gotten a cake from your sober parents, you didn't know why they were being so nice and despite the fact you found it very suspicious, you didn't want your questioning and worries to ruin the first birthday in a very long time that was normal. The day had been nice, you had gotten to sleep in and was greeted with a gift and a cake, as well as smiles from your mother and father. You made a wish and opened your gift, spending the morning eating cake for breakfast while your parents left you with minimal chores for that day. It was nice actually, though it would have been nicer with Eddie. You had never celebrated a birthday without him before.

But now it was back to your normal life yet your parents had been out of the house more than usual, without explanation. You had tried not to question it but the worries creeped in. On this particular night though, your parents called, which they never did.

"Hey Love, I'm going to need you to do a favour for me" Your mother's voice was soft yet sounded strained as if she had been or was crying. You found yourself frowning as you stood awkwardly waiting, nodding before remembering you had to actually talk.

"Y-Yeah sure..." You stammered out after a moment of silence you shared. A wave of unease washing over you but you didn't know why.

"I need you to go and hang out at a friend's or something. Just leave the trailer park for a few hours. Can you do that? It's complicated but can you just do that? For me?" She pleaded, her voice was so thick with desperation that you couldn't bring yourself to even ask why. Again you nodded but spoke up too. Your breaths were getting heavier as a thick feeling of fear tightened around your throat. The call didn't last long after that and you tried to rush to get dressed into something warm and to find some money just in case but you froze as you opened the rattling draw of cutlery.

A heavy set of winter boots met the weak wood of the steps just outside the front door. A shadow of a man. No. Of multiple men. Outside your home. You could barely swallow the lump in your throat, they waited while you waited, seeing who was going to move first. You notice that the fact they were unmoving was enough evidence that they knew you were there. Your hand slid into the draw, pulling out the biggest knife you could feel while not looking away. You noticed a hand move to what told you was the doorhandle, jaw clenched so tightly your teeth hurt, your knuckles white while you desperately gripped the handle of the knife. You had never so much as fought back against your father let alone anyone else.

And then a loud ring blared through the home. Simultaneously the front door opened. You reached for the phone, answering in fearful cries as you were grabbed by the waist from behind, a deathly grip pulling you away from the kitchen and the phone that was in it. You heard your father on the phone, you called for him.

"Daddy! DADDY HELP ME! DADDY PLEASE-" You could all but scream as you clung to the phone, as if talking into the phone was a better option that using the knife in your hand. You could hear his sobs down the phone and his pleads of forgiveness. Your mother's too. You tried. You did. You tried to fight them off with the knife but you were too weak, to frail to even do any actual damage other than a few cuts on their faces. Your fighting ended when you were launched back and hit your head against the counter, the last thoughts you remembered was why no one came to help, why, in a trailer park full of people, did no one come to help. They just stayed away in fear as your small body was carried into a car and you weren't seen again. Not for a long time.

During your time being held captive you were made to be a cute little waitress to some lowlives in a house. You weren't told why you were taken for a number of years. And the men did nothing other than ogle at your child body, until you were eighteen and only then did they start to grab you, of course others had tried before then but the "House Rules" were strict. Disgusting men that still had rules and morals apparently.

That was not to say they didn't thow you about when you disobeyed. They would beat you senseless, call you names, starve you, leave you in a room with nothing to sleep. You tried to escape so many times but you never could. You lost hope when you were told by the drunk version of the man who kidnapped you that your parents owed him money and gave you up in place of the money because they couldn't pay it back. After hearing that, your thirteenth birthday made a lot more sense. You could do nothing but just obey mindlessly from then on, your determination had ceased, no hope, you just felt so entirely numb that you couldn't focus on anything, you spiraled. You let them do whatever they wanted, you had no other choice and you figured you would die here anyway. That was until a rival group of criminals raided the house, and when they found you they clearly wasn't going to spare you. Despite being thin and weak like you had been before, no matter how weak you felt that adrenaline rush of a chance of freedom was something you were not going to let go. From the large spears of wood from the door where the armed man had kicked it open, you picked the nearest that was able to do the most damage. Sure, he threw you like a ragdoll but you could handle more than that, you had dealt with worse.

You growled lowly, you felt such an animalistic rush, a need to survive at that moment. Your legs trembled, tears were falling qns yet you were still standing. They raised their gun but even still you ducked and lunged forward, the base of the wooden shard against your stomach as you forced it into them, feeling the warm red liquid soon connect with your hands. Your eyes erratically looked for an exit. The window. Ground level. Locked. As you tried to form some kind of a plan you heard multiple boots thudding, threatening to round the corner. The man under you was still alive, your heavy breaths nearly matched his whimpers of pain.

"Fuck" You breathed under a heavy breath. You scrunched your face up in pain, not wanting to hurt anyone but he was drawing too much attention. You snatched the gun and pointed down at the man. You locked eyes for the brief time you held the gun toward him.

"Keep your mouth shut. Got it?" Your voice was trembling yet the look in your eyes proved you would pull the trigger if you had to. This. Was. Life. Or. Death. You had no choice if he yelled.

You quickly moved the gun to the window, shooting a few times before shoving the gun into the back of your jeans waistband. You looked over your shoulder, for only seconds before you kicked the glass away from the window frame. The small space was just big enough for your body to fit through. It wasn't until you were standing and four step away from the window did a ground round the corner of the house and see you. You ran. As fast as your weakened legs could. You fell. You tripped. You nearly gave up but the feeling of freedom was so damn close you didn't let go of the hope that was blossoming in your chest.

"Fuck this shit. I'm getting out." You spoke through gritted teeth as you snuck up to a car climbed in moments before two men got into the front. Your back was against the back of the drivers seat, curled up so tightly as you moved out of the estate and away. You didn't even care which direction as long as it was away. You had to keep your hand over your mouth and conceal all noise as a few gunshots hit the care. You felt sick, your vision was threatening to leave. You held on because your life depended on doing so.

Twenty minutes of driving and they stopped, you were praying to any and all divine beings out there that you didn't get caught. Up until this point you weren't religious at all but you needed a miracle. A real big fucking miracle. You listened as the two men climbed out of the car and a valet climbed in. You waited until the car started to move again before you made your presence known, a gun clearly in your hand.

"Drive to a safe area. I need to get out without being seen. I promise I won't hurt you but I need to get home. I've been through enough shit" You pleaded now, the nervous valet nodded and pulled up to just before where the parking area was. You left the gun in the car and bolted out of there. The bride was nearby, you would feel safer being over the bridge but your legs were failing you. You cried out in pain as your legs burned as if they were on fire. You were dragging yourself along as a police car pulled along. They asked a few questions but all you could manage was a string of words.

"Hawkins. I need to go...home. to Hawkins." You cried now. The rest was a blur of questions and a long drive with a few stops to a police station to figure out who the cops had in their car. Calls were made and a drive home was needed. Despite your need of sleep you were questioned by Hawkins police. Everything was kept hush hush. For two weeks you were kept under a secret location, asked the same questions and treated for wounds. Once assessed and found stable you were free. From cheap motel to being left at the trailer park was a huge step.

Your family no longer around, having died as a result of alcohol and drugs two years ago, their place was left to you and Eddie. You would find out that Eddie had upkept it but never stayed there.

----

September 14th 1985 [Saturday. 1:00 A.M.]

(It has been nearly six years since your dispearance. Not even a month away from six full years. You are nineteen now. You're scared of being back at the trailer park. Of Eddie not being there, of even just facing him of he was.)

From cheap motel interrogations to being left at the trailer park was a huge step for you. It was dark, the rain was hammering down and you were already drenched even though you had stepped out the police car not even two minutes ago. You moved through the gates and shut them behind you. Your tired and sloppy steps caused your shoes to gather cake like layers of mud though the thick and fast droplets were washing your shoes clean at about the same pace. Once you had reached your trailer you stood studying it, it looked the exact same. You don't know why you expected it to look any different. It was only when you headed up the steps that you realised you didn't have a key and one of the neighbours probably did. You let an disgruntled grunt leave your slightly swollen lip. To Eddie's it was. If he still even lived there. Or here. Or just in Hawkins.

You trudged over and carefully walked up the steps, your lightly closed fist hovering in front of the door before you knocked three times, somewhat gently. The flimsy metal doors were loud enough. You hated waking people up, always had but perhaps that was the trauma of childhood speaking. You waited a few moments and tried again, you were one knock in before the lights turned on.

"Alright! One second- Jesus. H. Christ!" A deep, raspy voice called from the other side, a light flickering on before it stabilised to a yellow glow. You heard the sound of locks being turned before you had to step out of the way of the door.

"Who the hell are you? And why are you knocking the goddamn door at one in the morning?" The average yet slightly thin built man with brown, frizzy curls spoke as he looked down at your with those all too familiar brown eyes, you barely recognised him with the new look. Last time you had seen each other he had a shaved head. The new look suited him.

"Hi? Hello? You gunna answer my question?" He asked in his tiredness. A hand on each side of the doorframe.

"Oh...I uh need the keys to my trailer, Eddie. A place to sleep would be great. It's cold" You said, you didn't know how to introduce yourself after all this time so you just went straight to the point, moving forward into the light more. Your hair was way longer than before too, the wetness of it made it stick to the majority of your face. There was a shared silence as you watched the realisation hit Eddie's face. He stepped back, tilting his head a bit as he gave you a looked mixed with pain, fear and almost anger. His eyebrows knitted together.

"This is just some weird fuckin' dream. You're not here. Yeah, I just smoked too much. So you can just leave. I don't like these sick games" he stated in a world of shock. It pained you to see Eddie like this. You realised now how much going missing must have hurt him too.

"Eddie...I get what it looks like. But I promise. I'm not pulling any sick kind of game" you offered softly, not wanting to step in with messy shoes so you remained where you were next to the door.

"I'm sorry...I...don't know what you think happened back then but I can tell you. I can explain if you just let me..." your voice breaking a little. You were desperate for some familiarity, the closeness of their hold. You watched as Eddie paced the room.

"You can explain?! It's been six years! You just left me. You just- gunna uh- just left without a word!" He stated as he walked up to you. Pointing his finger. Now the tears were forming again in your eyes.

"Eddie that not what happe-" You tried to speak but you were cut off by a loud laugh and a scoff. He nodded with his hands hovering over his hair briefly.

"Oh? No? That's not what happened? What happened then? You got bored here? You found someone better to spend your time with?" He asked. He stated. Though what he was saying was contradictory since that was what he had done.

You turned to the side as you looked up, trying to force away the tears. You sniffled before letting out a weak sob.

"Just shut up! Just...please. My parents- fuck..." You couldn't say it out loud, it sounded ridiculous and it was painful to admit.

"What? Your parents What? Waited for you? Looked for you? Your parents-" He rambled but you cut him off with a harsh glare this time.

"Traded me in." You stated and Eddie finally fell silent as he stared at you.

"Traded me in because they couldn't afford to pay back what they borrowed. So they let a group of men drag me away from my trailer in return for not paying the money back. I was screaming Eddie. The day they dragged me away and not one. NOT ONE PERSON. Helped!" You were almost yelling now. Having to admit this was heartbreaking for the both of you.

"I would NEVER leave you without saying something. Anything. But I'm not the one who pretended to not know me all because you made new friends at school. You let Francis bully me. And you moved on. We didn't even talk for a year before I disappeared. Remember? So if I had left by my own accord, could you even blame me?!" You cried now. It was all coming out. You had years to think about this and hadn't had the chance to say it up until this point.

Eddie stood with mixed expression, you could deduct some anger, pain and guilt and perhaps a need to defend himself too. There was a long pause. Enough to dismiss the following statements.

"You were taken..?" He finally spoke as he stepped forward. You didn't move but your eyes dropped to your feet as your face scrunched in pain at acknowledgement of the fact. You had been taken. And your parents offered you. You were just a kid.

You were just a fucking kid...

You could only weakly nod. You felt a slow hand curl around the back of your head and pull you into the dry, warm and soft feeling of Eddie's stomach, their shirt sticking to your face, your hand resting only just below his chest. It took a few moments but your arms moved to slink around his waist and pull yourself in closer for a minute.

"Come in." He whispered and dragged you in which gave you no other choice but to bring your muddy shoes in. You used Eddie to stabilise yourself as you pulled your wet feet out of your shoes. You tried apologising for the mess but he wouldn't let you.

"Just- Stay here. Let me grab you something to wear" he said softly though his voice wavered in it's rushed and tired tone. He disappeared into what you knew was his room. You pulled off the jacket given to you from the police, having gotten it from the lost and found box at the motel. It felt gross but it had been keeping you warm. You placed it by the door where your shoes were, looking around in one of the junk draws and found a hair tie, you knew that long haired son of a bitch had to have one now. You pulled your hair up into some kind of bun at the back of your head, pushing the small strands out of the way.

Eddie stood in the doorway of his bedroom and motioned for you to come in. You moved into the room where he shut the door. He pointed to the fresh towel on the bed along with a shirt that you knew would be huge on you if it was baggy for Eddie. As well as some of the smallest boxers he could find. That's That's he had for now. You sighed and pulled your shirt off, you had become so used to people seeing your body that you forgot to give any warning. You heard Eddie make a noise of surprise and looked just as he had turned around.

"Sorry..." You mumbled before continuing to pull the wet clothes that stuck tightly to your skin. You them proceeded to dry yourself with the towel before you heard Eddie speak, not looking.

"Do you uh. Wanna stay here tonight?" He asked quietly, you sniffled and cleared your throat, thinking for a moment.

"Okay..." You finally mumbled out as you shimmied into the boxers that fit pretty well, a little loose but good granted the situation. You quickly pulled on the shirt and turned around.

"I'm dressed." You said, then watching him turn around while he then watched you pull their hair tie from your head. You grabbed the towel and started to dry your hair.

"Lemme help" He moved to the bed and patted the wooden frame in between his legs. You paused for a moment before obliging. You sat crossed legged in front of him while he took the towel and gently started to gently dry your hair, you felt yourself relaxing into their gentle kneading movements.

"Almost like you don't want me to stop..." He joked softly, his voice not very loud at all, not wanting to disrupt the calmer atmosphere. You smiled a little at the comment and hummed in a response which was enough for Eddie's paused hands to carry on, though your hair didn't really need to be dried more.

"You um...look good with your long hair..." You told him in a voice that matched his earlier. You had always asked him to grow his hair out but he never did. He leaned over you while stopping his hands and pulled the towel away. His hand falling over his face and into yours.

"Hmm? Really?" He smiled, you just loved the way he smiled with his whole face, the creases of his smile in his cheeks. You couldn't help but smile back. Finally feeling safe for the first time since...you and Eddie were still close.

"Really." You reply softly, your hand moving up to touch it, your head moving to lean against his thigh, his sweatpants pretty comfortable too. He chuckled and leaned back up.

You moved to tie your hair back up and rub your face in your tiredness. Yawning a moment later before you stood, promoting Eddie to do the same. He moved to the small storage cupboard and pulled out a spare blanket and pillows, heading to leave.

"Where are you going?" You blurt out without it meaning to sound so sudden. Watching as Eddie moved to turn around.

"I'll sleep on the couch" he stated before you frowned and shook your head.

"No you have the bed. Give." You stated and took the blanket and pillows before he could protest. You moved to set up a bed and climbed in. He groaned under his breath and flung his arms up a little in protest but said nothing.

"Goodnight Eddie" you said just as he was about to turn off the lights. You caught a glimpse of his smile just before the room went dark.

"G'night Y/N" he said before almost shutting the door.

Your peaceful sleep lasted all but four hours at most, not able to do the math while so tired. Yet you work up with a start, sweating and panting as fear ran through your veins. It was usually at near to five that you'd be woken up and clearly you would have an issue with this for a while. You leaned back on your hands and sighed, eyes gliding over to Eddie's door. You thought for a moment before sneaking over and into the bedroom. Shutting it after you. You knew he was a heavy enough sleeper to not notice you as long as you were quiet and gentle. You climbed into bed, facing inward of Eddie's chest. You pulled the blanket up and for a moment you were sure he was still asleep until an arm wrapped around you and held you close. Not noticing that he was shirtless at first yet that didn't bother you. You could notice the smell of smoke, cigarettes and some cheap cologne still lingering on him but still it was oddly familiar and comforting.

You fell asleep after a while of thinking, listening to Eddie's steady breaths helped a good deal. You awoke in the morning to gentle fingers running up and down a section of your back, a chin resting on the top of your head. You shifted a little and the feeling stopped, Eddie pulling away to look down at you.

"Morning" Your voice was weak but there. Groaning as you slung your arm over him and cuddled in.

"Good morning" he said just as softly though his voice was gravelly, giving you a hint he had not long woken up either. You both just laid there for a while, almost until you fell asleep again but he forced himself up and that urged you to do the same.

The morning was filled with hot coffee, sour conversations and explanations that you had to slowly admit. Some confessions and some catch up.

"Really Munson? You're graduating next year? Jesus. Looks like I'll have to help you huh?" You teased as your now dry locks started to frame your face as gathered strands slowly slipped from the hair tie.

"Mhm sure, Sweetheart. You haven't got the brains" he chuckled as he leaned back into the firm cushion of the couch, coffee in hand.

You rolled your eyes though a flutter had risen from just the word 'sweetheart'. You prompty ignored it though. You took a break and took the last sip from your coffee before placing it on the table.

"So...who knows that you're here?" He asked with a worried look arising on his features, the expression didn't suit him.

"Just you and the cops. I've been here for two weeks but they wouldn't let me go since I had information they needed and I needed to be assessed after everything I told them. Needed to I don't know...make sure I was mentally stable I guess." You sighed softly and shrugged, shoulders shrinking a little after.

"I disappeared from this town a freak. A outcast. I'm just as much of one now as I was then. I don't- I don't know how people are going to react. It'll be like they're seeing a ghost or something" You said and laughed nervously looking around before meeting Eddie's eyes, finding safety in their reassuring gaze.

"Well...this time I'm not turning my back on you. I promise. Again. No more broken promises." He said, he seemed genuinely yet after the last six years your trust was destroyed. You didn't let that show, you just nodded.

"Well...Will you come to my graduation?" He asked after a moment. You smiled a little and moved forward a bit.

"Of course. I wouldn't miss it. Just as long as you help me find a way to live in this town. I have nothing. I was still in middle school when things happened. I have nothing to get a job with" You admitted and sighed, standing up, still in Eddie's shirt and boxers. You noticed him staring a little from the reflection in the window but didn't physically acknowledge it. You moved to bag your still wet clothes to take them uo to the laundrette later.

"What have you got plan-" you were cut short by a voice outside Eddie's door.

"Eddie? Eddie! You home? Hello?" The voice of Dustin called, wanting to talk about ideas for an upcoming campaign.

You stood and looked over with a frown before you disappeared into the bathroom.

You listened as Eddie opened the front door and spoke for what felt like ages, even noticing how the new person came inside and rambled on. You tried not to let a grain slip from your lips. You just looked around his bathroom and pulled a new toothbrush from under the cupboard, opening it from the plastic and cardboard packaging. You brushed your teeth diligently. Pulling your clothes off after and getting into the shower, which both boys inside the trailer took notice of. Still, it felt nice to get clean, properly clean. You had nothing else to change back from other than what what have been wearing. After changing back in to the borrowed clothes you used a wide comb which was the only one in the bathroom, after washing it of course, to detangle your hair that was nearly matted.

Finally you heard them leave and Eddie knocked the door as a signal. You came out much the same as you went in except you now smelled of mens body wash and had wet hair.

"Jesus. He was here for ages" You groaned. And Eddie just made a 'phfft' sound and gave a 'I don't know' kind of shrug. You rolled your eyes a bit.

"I guess I can't hide out in here forever. I'll need to actually make myself known. I just need to get some new clothes first. That's all I have" You mentioned as you pointed ti the bag of wet clothes you arrived in.

"You can try and find something of mine to wear? Or uh...I could go and pick something up from the thrift stores? Then once you have at least a few things you can pick your own stuff out? I'll help you pay." He offered and as much as you feared Eddie picking something out for you, you still agreed.

That afternoon you spent by yourself, apparently Eddie had some game thing tou didn't understand to talk about with a bunch of school kids, you didn't understand any of it but didn't question it, well. Not too much anyway. You slept for a while before laying on Eddie's bed while listening to some music, you didn't mind Eddie's music but you liked the older stuff you two heard as kids the best. Remembering how when no one was home you and Eddie would secretly play the records and dance around in the living room. Thankfully none of of the neighbours snitched.

You sat up slowly as you heard the keys jingle, groaning as you moved to turn the music off. Shuffling into the living room to meet Eddie with a smile. Your hair now down and dry again. It was now nearing dinner time.

"Hot dogs! Huh? What do you think?" Eddie smiled, you couldn't help but chuckle and nod. Moving to give him a hand with the bags.

"Sounds good. Also any luck on the clothes?" You asked as you started to unpack the groceries. Noticing a lot soup but said nothing, secretly hoping you wouldn't have to live off soup.

"Yeah. Not great but I think it will do. I asked the girl that was working there. I don't know shit about fashion for women" he chuckled.

"Or just about fashion in general" you teased before you felt a cold glass bottle on your back moments after Eddie fingers lifted your shirt.

"You asshole!" You half yelped as you turned to face the smirking man. You moved closer, Eddie craned down a little.

"Oh yeah? But isn't that why you love me?" He said, his voice as smooth and sweet as honey. You felt your cheeks flush just a little before turning away and finishing the unpacking.

"No" You stated bluntly as you folded the paper bag. You heard him chucked and open the bottle, the lid landing somewhere on the floor. Knowing you'd step on it at some point.

You glanced to watch him in their reflection momentarily, watching them take a swig before placing the bottle on the counter. You looked down when he caught your eyes. Moving behind you to place his hands on your hips.

"No? You don't love me? Or no I'm not an asshole?" He asked as he leaned down, his hands moving from your hips, around and over your stomach and wrapping around your waist instead. You sighed and looked away from both of your reflections.

You felt his lips graze your neck ever so gently, his breath was harsher than his lips before you felt him plant a kiss on your cool skin. His lips quite warm in comparison. You knew he felt you these up as a result. You cleared your throat and moved away to look through the clothes though the feeling of the kiss was burning into your skin.

You picked our an outfit for now and went to get changed, shutting the door firmly before you let your heaving chest finally move, fingers tracing the spot where Eddie had kissed. You swallowed hard and tried to push it away from your mind. You forced yourself to think about getting dressed and only that. The outfit was cute and simple. Enough for you. Though you had gotten used to wearing next to nothing, because you had to. In a strange way it was both nice and weird to have some damn decency.

The rest of the night was spent with decent hot dogs, a funny and flirty conversation with a lot of needy glances and a reluctant Goodnight. In all fairness you two were high as hell and a giggling mess. The Sunday was about the same except you slept most of it while Eddie was out and you cleaned up since the home desperately needed it. You didn't feel the need to go to your own trailer yet.

----

September 16th 1985 [Monday]

(Eddie attends school while you start showing your face around town. People were a little pale and the hushed voices started to grow. You had been on flyers, in news papers and on milk cartons for a long time. And suddenly you were back as if nothing had happened. Just older. Taller. More mean faced.)

You found yourself at the library trying to form some kind of sheet of references, skills and why you should be employed. Trying to write everything down neatly and clearly. Knowing it was a pain but had to be done if you were going to photocopy it. Eddie had given you some money thankfully to pay for the printing. An hour or so later you had your copies and set off on handing them out to anyone who had a "hiring" posted taped to their window. After handing out god knows how many you finally make it to the school, waiting for Eddie to head out. In your hand were some sour patch kids. Pulling a bit of a face at how sour they were. A lot of the people stared but you ignored them as you turned your back to Eddie to see who was shouting across the street, soon having an arm over your neck.

"Heeey. Gimme one?" He asked though his free hand was already waiting. You laughed a little and gave him a few before you started walking back. You had a casual conversation. Before you heard a unfamiliar and unwanted voice.

"Oh look the freak has got a girlfriend!" Jason, Eddie's enemy. The equivalent of your bully Francis. You groaned under your breath and turned around as you were lead to do so by Eddie.

"Not like you would know what that's like. Every girl you're with just uses you for popularity and fucks off when you call them a whore because there's another girl you want to shove your dick in. Yet the only freak and whore here is you" You blurted out before Eddie could even get a word in. You threw a sour patch kid at Jason's head and dragged Eddie away. You had learnt not to take bullshit like you had done when you were a kid.

"Impressive~" Eddie half complimented and half teased, you could tell he was surprised that you spoke up let alone were so fierce with your words. His hand that rested at your coarbome patted it in approval. Somehow that sense of approval was much appreciated.

The walk to the trailer park didn't take too long and by that point half of the sour patch kids had been eaten and the rest you two had thrown at each other like a couple of kids. Though you enjoyed bing able to be a kid again because in a way it was stripped away from you from both your parents and your kidnappers.

You stumbled into Eddie's place and ran to his bedroom and shut the door, squealing as you kept your back to the door to not let him in. Slightly regretting that you bet that he couldn't catch you in return for doing anything he wants. It wasn't very well thought out because the excited fear you felt running away had now caused you to be trapped in Eddie's room.

"You're stuck in there now! You'll either have time leave the door unattended to get out the window or open the door" Eddie handed you your options and the groaned loudly which earned a chuckle. You bolted for the window but half of you was out when Eddie grabbed you by your hips and yanked you back while you clung onto the outside.

"No! Noooo!" You whined through your giggles, your giggles making you weak enough for Eddie to pull you back through the window where you both landed on the floor, you in-between his legs and your back against his chest as you both were in a fit of laughter.

"Now you're mine!" Eddie claimed in a n evil voice, wrapping his arms around you to secure you in place. Tickling you a little before rested his head on your shoulder while you both caught your breath. You felt your cheeks redden with the feeling of his breath on your neck, they were quick and tickled a little. You were also very aware of his cool rings that were connected to your skin under your shirt. You felt Eddie shift behind you a bit, pulling himself closer into you. Adjusting their head where his eyelashes met your skin but you could tell their eyes were closed. You stayed like that for a while, your heart racing the entire time.

"...Eddie?" You asked in almost a whisper. Trying to turn to face him but stopped when his grip around your waist tightened. His mouth met your neck again, earning a gently gasp.

"You said anything right?" He repeated your words, softly, so softly against your skin. You paused before sighing.

"But not that. Just...kissing if you want...just nothing more" You stated, expecting him to be disappointed but his face buried deeper into your neck. He held you close as if you'd vanish if he let go.

"I'll take that..." He commented as one of his arms moved from around your waist so his fingers could gently grab your face, finger almost pinching at your skin as he turned your head toward his. Leaning in slowly, noses bumping into each other just a little before his lips graze your own. Both of you lightened breaths became a little heavier. Eddie leaned in further his lips barely touching yours but enough to kiss you, featherlight. Just as he moved in to kiss you the front door opened.

Eddie's group of friends, something called the Hell-Fire Club or some shit, stepped through the front door as it had been open.

"Yo Eddie? We need to start planning and getting ahead of that kid you know and get some good ideas in-" but the stopped when Eddie was clearly pissed off, having gotten uo and was now standing in the doorway. You, however were hiding away on Eddie's bed barely out of view. You were red and your hickey was quite clearly forming.

"Our meetings are on Wednesdays. And I was busy and you ruined it." Eddie stated with crossed arms and at first they were coming fused before they caught sight of you, you avoided eye contact, suddenly the dying plant outside was the most interesting thing around. You zoned out of the conversation but came back when Eddie pushed some hair from your face, you expect him to to kiss you then, he was so close, he was leaning closer but just as you were about to close your eyes he pulled away.

You were left feeling like a bit of a fool, even more so if you had actually closed your eyes. You swallowed soem saliva that had built up in your mouth in almost anticipation and want.

"I'll uh...go start on dinner" he stated and walked away, leaving you on the bed. Alone. Wanting him. You found yourself playing with your fingers, a fizzy feeling left over from his hickey on your neck. You relaxed down into the bed and curled up, you didn't know if it was weird gur you kind of enjoyed the smell of his pillows, they were fresh since you had changed them yesterday. But he had since slept on them and you could smell the cologne which overpowered the smokey smell but it was still there. You just buried your face into the pillow, imaging it was his chest you were laying on. It took a few moments to realise that acting this was was utterly pathetic. He was your best friend. Despite the kissing and the grabbing. It was all just fun and games. Right? Of course it was.

The two of you ate pretty much in silence other than the TV playing. Eddie finished uo particularly face and headed into his bedroom without much commentary. Just telling you he was going to nap or sleep early.

You decided to not share his bed that night. You just locked up and sat reading for a while before getting comfortable on the couch and falling asleep after about thirty minutes.

You wouldn't know but Eddie would come in a few hours later to check in on you, making sure you were tucked in before heading back to bed himself.

12th October 1985 [Saturday]

(Three weeks after you arrived at Eddie's place. Small time skip to move over the mundane and get used to staying at Eddie's.)

The past two weeks had been fun but awkward too, mainly because you and Eddie would get high and have great conversations that almost always led to a make out session but nothing more. Admittedly only stopping at kissing was getting to you but you didn't feel comfortable enough yet to go any further. You could tell it was starting to get to Eddie too, while sober he started to avoid any kind of physical touch with you, only you. Admittedly you got a bit healous when he was close with his friends; being all touchy feely in a friendly way and not even you got got anymore.

Saturday night came and after brooding all day you finally spoke up. Your leg bouncing under the table as Eddie clearly avoided your eyes.

"I think it would be better if I stayed in my own trailer from now on. You've been distant for over a week and I don't want to intrude in your personal space" you inform as you leaned your head on your hand, elbow on the table. Eddie looked over with a frown but his response was disappointing.

"Alright. I'll get the key" Was all he said before he stood and walked over to the kitchen drawer before pulling out some keys and handing them to you. With how quickly he moved you could have just assumed right then and there that he wanted you out now.

You sat there for a moment before you stood and grabbed your little amount of things and left, it was quite clear you were upset yet neither of you said a word. Your movements were clunky as you entered your trailer and turned on the lights, the thick feeling of emptiness and loneliness hit tou like a thrashing wave. It was only coming up to eight in the evening but it felt a lot later. You felt an extreme boredness as you sat alone, as if you were back in that room on the estate. You hated the silence but you knew Eddie needed his space, perhaps it would be good for you too.

It wasn't as if you had been totally honest with your feelings, unknowingly you had liked Eddie as a kid, the jealousy was something you recognised now as an adult looking back and now that you were with Eddie again, the Eddie that hadn't changed, not really, you found yourself in the same spot but now with adult wants and needs. You thought the making out would be fine, be enough but you didn't know if Eddie wanted sex and only sex or of he wanted more but to ask would mean admitting your feelings and making a fool of yourself. And to be distant was both painful yet easier. Perhaps for now anyway.

15th October 1985 [Tuesday]

Three days had passed since you last saw each other, you hadn't spoken or even got a glimpse of each other. You wondered if Eddie was as lonely as you or of he liked not having you around.

It got to about midnight and you had foolishly smoked a joint that Eddie had given you last week. You weren't as mind numbingly scared about asking something stupid. You dialled up his number, not daring enough to be face to face. You thought he wouldn't answer but your eyes were watching his trailer and you saw his shadow finally move toward the phone.

"Hello?" He asked, his voice was clear, you'd have thought he'd been smoking by now but apparently not. There was a linger silence before he was about to speak again but you spoke first.

"Hey...it's me." You admitted, admitted..? It felt like a confession of sorts, in some strange way.

"Oh..." was all you heard on the other end for a moment, something so simple yet it hurt. As if he was disappointed it was you on the other end.

""Oh?"" You repeated back to him, yet another lingering pause followed. You felt like an idiot for even calling. You had heard the rumours. He liked the pretty, popular girl. You forgot her names but it didn't matter.

"We're you expecting someone else? Or just hoping that it was anyone else?" You asked, your tone was a bit sarcastic but the pain showed through enough. You instantly regretted your choice in words and tone. You listened as you heard a sigh, a muttering of words.

"Why are you being like this?" That's what he had whispered, you weren't sure if you were supposed to hear that. But you had.

"I like you" You barely managed to get out as you heard the phone brush away from them and their breaths becoming distant as if they were about to hang up. There was a pause, you hated how many there were.

"...what?" The voice on the other end spoke faintly. You gulped, fearing you had made a mistake.

"I...like you, Eddie. But- I didn't know if you wanted sex or more than that and I was too scared to ask so I just kept...you at arms length but let you kiss me...I gave you mixed signals but....one minute you'd be kissing me and the next avoiding me..." You found yourself rambling a little.

"Just shut up for a minute Y/N...you like me?after all this time and just threw weeks together you're going to say you like me?" Well, if anything was going to make you feel like shit and invalidate your feelings, that would do it.

"Okay? And you're going to tell me you don't like me by the way you desperately beg to let you have me? That the way you kiss me is only for people you want to fuck? All the sweet nothings you whisper in my ear before you kiss me? That's all just because you wanna fuck? Is that it? Or are you in denial too?" You asked, almost spitting venom. He struck first this time. He hurt you with those words and you weren't going to let that slide. As much as you had just confused to being in denial, you were calling him out too.

The two of you stood in silence after that. And then the line went dead. You reluctantly put the phone down before heading to fo to the bathroom when Eddie opened your front door. You both just stared at each other for a minute.

"Ok. So you in denial. So are you? Aren't you? Huh? So you want me to admit it? Is that it? That I like my best friend? And then you reject me and you leave again? You disappear?" There was a desperate need in his voice, a fear too. You could almost see he was crying. His eyes searching yours for an answer. You sucked up all the anger and the guilt and embarrassment and walked over to Eddie. You cupped his face.

"Okay. I'll be the first to say it. Again. I like you Eddie Munson. I like you now and I always have. And if you like me then you better kiss me right now" You told him openly from the heart.

He grabbed you roughly and pulled you in for a deep yet soft kiss, as if everything he needed to say was put into that kiss then and there. You needed no other explanation. You both had been wanting each other yet were too scared to face one another. Your hands found his hair, your fingers tangled in his curls while you held each other close. When you both parted, your lips red and wet, Eddie pulled you in close.

"I wasn't lying when I said you were mine...so don't disappear" He mumbled a little. You laughed a little though it wasn't in making fun of him. You just remembered how he had said it at the time.

"I won't...I'm yours, Eddie. I'm yours." You replied softly. The rest of the evening you opened up to each other more and laughed at the awkwardness the two of you had been feeling about the entire thing. It was nice for the two of you to laugh at the situation rather than bicker about it. And Eddie cleared up that he had been dealing to Chrissy as that was the reason he had been close with her. Though you'd still feel jealous, she was damn pretty.

Well the rest of the story goes that you got a job at photo printing shop, the work was easy and you got discounts, great for pictures of you and Eddie and Eddie and his club for posters. Either way someone you knew was going to get a good deal on too many pictures. You and Eddie spend most nights trying to make decent meals while his records play in the background and then he tries to teach you D&D but to no avail. You find out the talkative kid is Dustin and you love watching how he and Eddie are so enthusiastic about the game even if you don't understand it. The rest of the group seem nice too. You've been able to convince Eddie to learn how to dance with you as long as you build a character with him. You're also currently studying with a retired tutor who was kind enough to reach out so that you you improve your grades and get better work but until then, currently, life is good.

- Smut section >:)) - (you don't have to read obvi I'm also bad at this but oh well)

Top/Dom Eddie - bottom/sub fem reader

(Car sex. You're riding him. He's dirty talking, he's degrading and praising you. Unprotected sex. Doesn't pull out.)

You whine as you shifted in you seat, Eddie had been teasing you all afternoon, whispering dirty words in your ear and then had the audacity to leave you in the car to have a cigarette. It wasn't yours or Eddie's car so no smoking inside allowed. Though the car looked like it eas falling apart anyway. You watched him while his gaze was over at the gorgeous view, that wasn't the view you wanted right now. You huffed and crossed your leg over the other, thighs squeezing together which made your area twitch a little. You heard the door open ans Eddie climb into the drivers side, the door slamming shut not long after.

"What's wrong?" He dared to ask as if he didn't know and wasn't the cause. You shot him a glare though that smirk was already waiting for you.

"Oh yeah. As if tou don't know. Teasing me all afternoon, driving all the way out here where there is no one just to ignore me?" You state with an annoyed tone. Though when it came to intimate stuff you knew better than to talk back. Yet here you were.

"You better watch your tone or you won't be getting what you want" Eddie's voice lowered and more serious look washed over his face. You kept your mouth shut but the annoyed look never left. And for nearly ten minutes you two sat in silence while your need grew, damn even his scent, that smokey cologne mixed smell was driving you inside.

"Are you done sulking? Do you want me to make you feel good?" Eddie finally spoke as he grabbed your face to make you look at him. After a moment you sighed and nodded. He raised a brow momentarily as a silent question if you were sure about not sulking anymore. Your frown turned into a pout as your need started to show. Earning a light chuckle.

"Alright, Sweetheart. Get to work" he stated and let go. Leaving you as you undone his belt, buttons and the zip. He lifted his ass up so you could pull his jeans down a little, giving you better access to his boxers, his semi-hard cock springing out gently as you pull his boxers down a but too. Eddie was a pretty boy. He had a dick to match. You flicked your tongue over the tip, earning a groan and tight hand in your hair. You take all of him slowly until he reaches down with his free hand to feel his cock in your throat.

"Such a little whore for me, are you Y/N? You look so pretty taking all of me like a good girl" He purrs before a nudge if his hand urges you to bob your head, his tip rubbing against the back of your throat as you try not to gag much and then you start to hear him moan and whine.

"Fuck- so good for me baby~ just like that. Use your dirty little mouth, oh yeah-" he moaned out moving your head by his own command now. You could tell he was starting to get a little despite. Leaving you to whine loudly.

"Awe, what? Worried I'll cum and you won't be able to have this dick in your tight pussy?" He asked as he looked down at you. Your eyes confirmed his question. You were sneaked through, the skirt sliding up over your lower back as you leaned down.

"Well you've been such a good girl taking my cock that I'll be nice." He said softly now, pulling your head away before kissing you roughly.

"You're my pretty girl. So beautiful. Your body is begging for me, isn't it?" He asked and you nodded eagerly. The tears in your eyes starting to fall from your desperate ans growing need.

"Speak. Tell me how much you want my cock inside of you" he asked, his voice so soft, so gently while he barked his commands.

"I want it so bad- please Eddie! Please!I want it deep inside me" You pleaded, gripping his thigh a little as you waited for permission.

He smiled and caressed your cheek, his calloused thumbs wiping away your tears, planting an soft kiss on your forehead.

"Good girl. Come and sit." He instructed as he patted his lap. Watching as you straddled him, his hands immediately moving to your waist for support. One hand slipped down to your cunt, his lips to your neck as he whined into your skin.

"So wet down there. Already so ruined for me. So desperate for my dick, aren't you?" He said as he brought his lips up to you ear to whisper. He massaged your clothes through the fabric of your panties, you rocked your hips into his fingers.

"Y-Yes! I want it so badly" You cry out while moaning softly. His synced movement dragging you closer. He suddenly pulled his fingers away leaving you a whimpering mess.

"Patience, Sweetheart. Patience." He cooed as he hooked his fingers under the sides of your panties, pulling them down while you used his shoulders to climb out of them. You moaned lightly as you felt Eddie's tip brush against your folds.

"Shh shh that's it. Guide my cock into that pretty little pussy of yours" he said in raspy voice. You did as you were told with no hesitation but didn't move fast, sinking down slowly until Eddie's hands moved to your hips and slammed you down, causing you to moan loudly.

His brown curls clung to his face as now you studied him, his bottom lip held under his teeth while to rocked your hips gently. You noticed how his gorgeous brown eyes rolled back and his ringed fingers gripped onto your hips, nails digging in a bit.

"Just like that. Oh fuck-!" He whined, as much as you loved having Eddie be control, you loved to hear him whine for you as much as he loved to hear you whine for him. Just hearing those whimpers was enough to make the walls of your pussy tightened around him causing him to moan from his lower throat.

Your hands on his shoulders for support you rocked your hips faster, not even bothering to hide your whore ish moans anymore ams better yet Eddie didn't hold back his whines and whimpers, only making your pussy pull his cock in deeper. The car was shaking ans creaking even as another car drove by.

"That's it. That's it! Yes baby- rock your hips. Does my cock feel so good? So deep inside you?" He asked as his hands guided your movements.

"S-So good, Eddie! It's so deep" You moaned before leaning in and burying your face into his neck. He forced your hips to move faster, slamming down into his cock a few times too. The both of you in pure ecstasy, the world around you melting as you were only away of each other.

He move your head to be able to kiss you, so lovingly as if he wasn't guiding your hips to point into him the man looked like an angel yet his actions were that of a devil. You pulled away to hide your face as you moaned loudly, your cream covering his thick cock,but he didn't stop not until you were leaning back on the dash and he was thrusting into you, smashing into you.

"So good for me baby. Thats it. Let me hear your voice. Fuck! You're taking me so well. Good girl~" He praised as he finished into you, thrusting a few more time as some quiet, breathy moans still slipped form Eddie's lips. He pulled out slowly, your mix dripping onto the car floor as he rubbed his tip over your sensitive clit.

"Such a mess we've made. Harrington doesn't have to know" he smirked and the fun didn't end there.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader

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mortifiedatbeingknown · 9 months

Text

"The Gentle Giant" (Pt. 3)

Masterpost:

“Here.”

She counted out the last stack of hundred dollar bills, pressing it into his hands when he refused to take it. “Twenty-five hundred, all in cash, just like you asked.”

The man (If she could even call him that) squinted down at the money arranged on the table in front of him, and shook his head with a sigh that ground down on her nerves each time she heard it. “You don’t know when to quit, do ya?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She lied. “You told me this was the only price you would accept, and I’m here to pay in full. I don’t mean to cause you any trouble, sir.”

“If that was the case, you would’ve taken the hint already.”

“Hint?”

The man rose to his full height and slammed his fist down on the table. She didn’t flinch, but several of the terrified slaves stowed behind him did. “Don’t play dumb with me, sweetheart. Ya ain’t good at it.”

She only batted her eyelashes. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. Could I just sign the paperwork and go?”

“I ain’t sellin’.” The man growled. “Now scram.”

“But he’s clearly marked for sale!” She protested, her voice rising. “I am within my full rights as a customer to trust—”

“He’s a publicity stunt.” The owner replied flatly. “He’s there to draw the crowds, scare them into buying my weaker stock, and that’s it. The little ones always sell better anyhow.”

“Then why is he still on sale?”

“Because I was stupid enough to think I could make something off of him, if I just marketed right.” He laughed bitterly. “The results speak for themselves. A brute like that? It draws the crowds in, but that’s about it. And he’s doing his job well, which is why he’s going to stay right there.”

Her jaw tensed. “You offered him to the public. You don’t get to deny me like this.”

“I can if I judge you to be an unfit mistress.”

She fell silent.

The man crossed his arms smugly, head tilted back in triumph. Bastard. She glared right back at him as she began to calculate her next move. Like it or not, she needed his signature if she wanted to legalize the purchase, and that meant getting him to cooperate.

“...Very well.” She made a big show of stuffing the money back into her purse, letting him see just how much money he had thrown away by holding onto that poor man. “If he was just a display item, you should have told me. I never would have gone that far. So then, why is he marked for sale?”

The man stared down at the floor. “Never got around to it.”

She smirked internally. “That’s not true.”

“Excuse me?”

“I checked his tag.” She jabbed a finger to where the subject of their discussion was kneeling as always, head bowing forward and eyes glazed over as a young woman tried to tickle him into any sort of emotional reaction. “It’s brand new. You’ve had it replaced recently. Why would you bother to do that, when you could’ve just thrown it away, once and for all?”

Another sigh, though this one felt like her win and his loss. “Because if he ain’t for sale, it gives off the appearance that he can’t be trusted with the populace. That keeps the crowds at bay, and I can’t have that.”

“So you’re lying.”

“Eh?”

She didn’t skip a beat. “You’re lying to me, promising the customer something you’re not willing to give. That’s false advertising, punishable by…” She took out her phone in a single, smooth motion, relishing every bit of dread on that monster’s face as she tapped out the question.

“Oh, what a coincidence! A fine of about 2,500 dollars.”

The man scoffed. “And that’s supposed to scare me?”

“Only if you’re smart.” She said, taking a step forward. Time to move on the offensive. “Here are your options. You give me what you advertised, take my 2,500 dollars, no rules get broken, and we both go on with our days. Or…”

She took another step forward, hoping she was doing this right. “Or, I report you for your crime, you lose 2,500 dollars, and your little stunt of lying will get forcefully shut down.” She slammed her hands down on the table, this time gently enough and with enough warning so that no pets got startled. “I can spend my money either getting a lovely new pet for myself, or I can spend it suing you. So what do you say?”

The man only rolled his eyes. “Look sweetheart, if it was any of my other pets I’d have this done and over with in ten seconds. But that big guy? We’ve been together too long. He’s my only hook at getting me a decent profit. I can’t give up my livelihood just because you got some sort of muscle fetish or something, alright?”

She fought the urge to gag. “If you can’t afford to lose him, then you definitely can’t afford court fees.” She held up her purse again. “But I do seem to have enough here to give you a good solid start on your new marketing plan!”

“By breaking a system that’s already worked well enough on it’s own? How generous.”

She took his sarcasm as another win, another crack in his armor. “May I have his paperwork, please?”

“You’re too small.” He replied flatly, ignoring her. She bit down an irritated huff. How long was he going to drag this out for?!

“If he’s gentle enough for the crowds out there—” Another glance at the giant, this time where a pair of rowdy toddlers were screaming into his ears. “--He’s good enough for me.”

“That’s because he’s got his hands tied. Ankles too. Oh and also that collar keeping him bolted to the floor.” The master counted off every point on his fingers. “Don’t forget, I’m the one in charge here. He knows that if he messes up, he’s gonna have to mess with me.”

He stood up to better show the whip hooked onto his belt, and she forced herself to stare. What was the point in looking away? She’d already seen the scars.

“Now, you? What are you, four foot eight?”

“Five foot even.” She replied, a little nastily.

“Same difference. I bet you don’t tip the scales at 90 soaking wet. What makes you think he isn’t gonna eat you alive once those chains come off?”

“I have my ways.”

He cackled, loudly enough to catch the eyes of several browsing shoppers. “Sure you do, darling. Sure. But as someone who happens to care very deeply for the safety of all his customers, I can’t in good faith—”

“Oh, stuff it.” She snapped. “If this individual was truly that dangerous, then I could add another lawsuit for offering poorly trained merchandise to your customers. But you’re just stalling for time, aren’t you?”

“I am only trying to look out for your best—” She yanked out a slip from the nearest filing cabinet and thrust the pen into his hands. “Sign. The. Paperwork. Or next thing you know, I’ll have my lawyer on the phone.” To double down on her threat, she began typing, trying very hard to pretend she was not just jabbing random numbers.

The man looked at her, to the paper, than to her again. Then one final long, heavy sigh that made her wish to scrub away the sound from her ears like it was dirt. “...Fine. Have it your way. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Princess.”

Her hands did not relax until his pen had lifted from the paper. Until he’d counted and recounted every single stupid dollar bill to satisfaction. He was toying with her at this point, and as infuriating as it was, she did not care. Let him have his stupid victory lap. She had what she wanted now.

And after this, she never had to deal with him again.

#whump writing #whumpee #whump #pet whump #slave whumpee #the gentle giant

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marcoscavalho · 8 months

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rafael silva + he/him + cis man – have you seen marcos cavalho around los angeles? the twenty-nine year old is usually jamming to electric love by BØRNS. word around the city is that they’re kindhearted, yet, they can also be naive, but you didn’t hear that from me. they’re currently a paramedic and are typically seen walking the streets of los angeles with his best friend and rescue dog, dave. when i think of them, i think of cheesy romantic comedies, rose colored glasses, and losing track of time. let’s hope the city treats them good!

CHARACTER INFORMATION

name: marcos cavalho

pronouns & gender: he/him, cis man

sexuality: homosexual

birth date: november 20, 1993

birth place: los angeles, ca

occupation: paramedic

PERSONALITY

Marcos is basically a labrador retriever. He isn't the brightest, but he is enthusiastic. He's loyal, and he loves pretty much anyone he comes across. When someone talks to him, you can see him get visibly excited just because he's being talked to. And if someone brings up something he's actually interested? If he had a tail, it would be wagging. Also he likes treats.

(to be added to at a later date!)

BACKGROUND/BIO

triggers: pregnancy and homophobia!

The only way to really understand the type of man Marcos Cavalho is, is to go back in time a bit and understand the type of world he was born into. Back to when it was just Yara Cavalho, a nineteen year old young woman who was an immigrant in the United States. LA was Yara's dream, bustling and busy and so, so warm. She loved the climate, she loved the beaches, and she loved the people. She was young, but strong and independent, working for a maid company that boasted very elite and exclusive clientele.

That was another thing Yara loved. The big homes, multi-million-dollar mansions and their fancy appliances. She never minded cleaning up after the people inside of the homes, especially when she occasionally caught a glimpse of the individuals themselves. With their fancy jewelry, nice clothes, and their personal hygiene always immaculate. She'd seen women come out in silk robes, apparently just getting up for the day and yet still looking so perfectly put-together. She wanted to be one of those women, beautiful and confident. In fact, that was the only real dream she had, outside of being able to provide for her mother, who was often working alongside her.

The men in those large homes weren't always home when she was there, but when they were they gave her a fair amount of attention. Not all of them, but she'd be lying if she said it wasn't most of the men. She was young, and attractive, and she giggled and smiled because she knew they paid her bills after all. One man in particular, a well-known politician, gave her more attention than the others. And Yara believed, in her nineteen year old romantic fantasies, that they were in love. It turned out not to be so, but she didn't know that in the beginning. In fact, it didn't really hit her until she fell pregnant. The moment she shared it with him, thinking he'd be excited, believing in her heart that he would finally separate from his wife like he'd told her he would, he laughed at her. Told her it couldn't be his, threatened her job and her citizenship and then finally her life. And Yara, heartbroken, hid the paternity of her baby for the entirety of her pregnancy. If anyone suspected, they said nothing, for a long time.

And so Marcos was born to a young, single maid. He lived with his mother and his grandmother in their tiny apartment in downtown Los Angeles. He didn't know about the million dollar homes, or the fancy people. He only knew his own home, the neighborhood they lived in and the culture that came with it. His abuela taught him manners, and taught him to cook and to clean. She worked less and less after he was born, opting to take care of him and a few other children in their apartment complex, while Yara continued working and paying the bills.

When his abuela fell ill enough to end up in the hospital for a few weeks, Marcos went to work with his mother. He was eight years old, sitting on the front porch doing his homework, when the woman of the home they were cleaning came home. She took one look at him, and her face went pale. Marcos wasn't sure what had happened, but he knew that it was bad when his mother came running out, grabbed him and his things, and practically ran to the bus stop to go home instead of riding in the van with the other maids, who continued cleaning. He asked his mother what had happened over and over again, but she said nothing. It wasn't until they were home that she even let herself cry.

Maybe a week later, that same fancy woman was at the door of their apartment, looking so out of place in her nice clothes and sleek blonde bun. She was there with a man, younger than her husband, only a year or two younger than his own mother. The two of them met with Yara in her kitchen, and Marcos did his best to listen in without being caught. He didn't hear much, but there was a thick envelope produced from the woman's purse and given to Yara. The woman seemed ashamed, apologetic even, and Yara just sat there, in shock. The only person who seemed to notice Marcos at all was the young man, looking right at him and offering small smiles when he knew Marcos saw him looking.

Yara believed she could be honest with Marcos after these events. She told him who his father was, and explained to him that he would never be able to tell anyone. She thought she was telling him that his father didn't want to acknowledge him, but what he was hearing was that his mother wanted to keep him to herself. But he nodded, obedient, and pushed the idea to the back of his head for another day.

Nothing really changed. His abuela came back from the hospital, and his life went back to normal. School and home, chores and playing outside with the other kids in his neighborhood. Marcos was a decent student, not always the brightest but making up for it with his enthusiasm. He worked hard and did okay, and he offered his help to anyone that seemed like they might need it. He played soccer, and did pretty well at that too. Never the star player, but almost always on the field. Life was as it should be; simple, happy, and everyone was content.

Marcos' abuela was the first person he ever came out to. He was fifteen and had just kissed a boy for the first time the night before at a party. Yara was working, and Marcos was bursting, and so while they sat at the table with their breakfast he just blurted it out. Something about how he'd kissed a boy, and it had felt better than he ever had trying to kiss a girl, and he was pretty sure it had felt how kissing girls was supposed to feel. His abuela just listened to him ramble, watched him work himself up, and then walked around the table to hug him. She didn't say anything about it then, but Marcos remembers it because she hadn't needed to. He'd known what she would have said, if words had been needed. And at that moment, he'd felt loved.

That good feeling didn't last. When he tried to bring it up with his mother, months later, she snapped at him. Told him he was being ridiculous, it was just a phase, a part of growing up, and he needed to get over it. The rest of that year, she would occasionally bring up with him the idea that he could talk to a therapist if he still had strange urges, or maybe even go to a camp she'd heard about from a friend. Marcos had heard about that camp, too, and he knew that more than anything else, he needed to avoid it. Those conversion camps were scary places. So he smiled at her, promised her they'd passed, and Yara accepted that for the most part. His abuela didn't, and again they shared wordless embraces, and again he knew what she was communicating, and he remembered that he was loved unconditionally by her.

It just about killed him when his abuela passed. He was seventeen then, and it happened suddenly. His biggest comfort came in the form of his best friend, someone he'd been attached at the hip with since they were just out of diapers. A friend who had only recently become something more than just a friend, though neither of them had put a label on what exactly that was. Unfortunately, Yara caught them in Marcos' room after she'd come home early one day. She yelled, a lot, and looking back Marcos figures it had more to do with the grief of losing her mother than it did with him. But at the time he'd taken everything to heart, and so he'd packed a bag and left that night. Panicked, he'd gone to the one place he thought there might be someone else who would love him unconditionally, the way family was supposed to.

Thankfully, Marcos' father was not the one who answered the door. It was the same young man who had come to his house, almost a decade prior. He looked surprised to see the teenager there, standing and looking pathetic with his duffel bag. And when Marcos said his name, the young man stepped outside and closed the door. There were important people inside, Marcos wouldn't be welcomed with open arms. But then, Marcos was never going to be welcomed with open arms. The young man introduced himself, explained that he was Marcos' half-brother, and listened when Marcos lost it on that porch, sobbing and explaining he didn't know what to do or where to go. And for some reason, his half-brother handed him his own house key and gave him the address, saying to make himself comfortable and he'd be home in a few hours.

Marcos felt weird in the stranger's home, but he still didn't know what else to do. So he went, he sat awkwardly on the couch, and he waited. And when his half-brother got home, he gave the teen a beer and they talked a bit. Not about anything serious, mostly just getting to know each other. And Marcos stayed in his half-brother's guest room for the rest of his time in high school, a little over a year.

Yara went to watch Marcos graduate, and occasionally called or texted to see how he was doing. He was never invited back home, and she never apologized for the things she'd said to him the night he left. He still ran ideas by her, about what he wanted to do with his life. She agreed that working as a paramedic was a good idea for him, and she supported him going to school to make that happen. Though her support was merely emotional, and minimal at that. His half-brother actually paid for his education, stating that his father should have been providing and hadn't, so he was happy to make up for it now however he could.

Eventually Marcos made it into a tabloid. Something about the young man living with the son of an important politician, and what that implied. His half-brother was under fire for a while, journalists making comments about his sexuality, his lifestyle, and the obvious young age of this boy he seemed to be living with. It wasn't too long before the truth had to come out, that Marcos was his half-brother, that his father had gotten "the help" pregnant and then abandoned her. Marcos' half-brother was seen as some kind of saint or hero for taking the underprivileged boy in, and their father was villainized. Fortunately, he'd already retired, and he had no intention of sticking around to be ridiculed.

Marcos has still never actually met his biological father face-to-face. He's met his half-brother's mother, she's always been very kind to him. He no longer lives with his half-brother, though they are still very close and talk almost daily. He isn't mentioned much in the news anymore, though his brother followed in their father's footsteps, so he isn't a stranger to having his photo taken when he least expects it, either. He loves his job as a paramedic, loves saving lives, and wouldn't change careers for anything. And over the years, he really thinks he's repaired his relationship with his mother. Well, as long as he doesn't talk about who he's dating. She assumes he's seeing women, and he lets her believe whatever she needs to.

CONNECTIONS

tbd

#california.intro

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theinkedfoxsl · 2 years

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Birthday - Alee

It was becoming an issue.

A year into their relationship and Vesper didn’t know his birthdate. Asking at this point felt odd, the fox sorcerer never volunteering the information willingly. There was no record of it online on any of his social media accounts, either. And desperate times, called for desperate measures. At least that’s what Vesper told themself as they rifled through the man’s bag.

He pulled the fox print wallet from the bag, looking around the darkened kitchen before doing their best to quietly unzip it. Okay, now xe just needed to find the man’s ID. “Who needs this many cards..?” Vesper muttered to himself as xe squinted in the dark to try and find Alee’s passport. Vesper was thoroughly confused upon pulling out the green and white Ontario health card, well aware their boyfriend had forged a health plan ID card somewhere.

It took a quick moment, but they located the birthdate on the card. September 1st.. His birthday was only two days away? And he hadn’t said anything? And why didn’t he say anything last year either..? They furrowed their brows as they stared at the old health card, thumb brushing over the date. At least last year, Vesper supposed they understood, given.. Xe slid the card back into the wallet.

“What are you doing?”

Xe nearly jumped, tail bristling and ears perking up as xe looked up, glowing reddish eyes meeting xem in the darkness. They were so screwed. “I need to borrow twenty dollars. I forgot my wallet at the bar.” Xe pulled the money out from the wallet, zipping it back up immediately afterwards. The kitchen flooded with light, Alee standing in the doorway squinting without his glasses.

Alee shook his head, messy hair falling into his face as he headed to the fridge. “Go for it. But I think your wallet is on the coffee table.” He pulled open the fridge, grabbing one of the bottles of iced coffee from inside. Vesper froze, tail stilling almost comically. Alee leaned against the counter, popping open the lid of the bottle as he stared expectantly at Vesper.

“Uhm.” Shit. How could xe forget every lie possible at this moment? Alee brought the bottle to his lips, dull eyes trained on his partner. Vesper didn’t like to admit it, but xe was starting to struggle when it came to lying to Alee. It wasn’t easy. Not only could the man read xem like a book, it just didn’t feel right. But.. If they wanted their plan to work..

“Okay you’re right, I just don’t have the twenty right now. Can I?”

Alee shrugged, lowering the glass bottle some. “I don’t care, I’m just giving you a hard time, starlight.” Vesper lowered his wallet back into the bag, pocketing the twenty dollar bill he essentially just stole. Alee downed the rest of his coffee and turned towards the sink to clean out the bottle. “Wanna watch a movie?” He inquired, turning the sink off.

And with that, Vesper considered the evening a success.

Until he couldn’t even find Alee on September 1st.

“Hey, it’s Vesper again. You don’t usually not call me back, everything okay? I’m at the Fate’s Thread if you want to stop by.” Xe hung up xyr phone, pocketing it back into the front pocket of his waist apron. They quickly left the employee’s room, heading back out behind the bar to resume their duties.

Miya brought her tray back to the bar counter, setting it down and unloading the empty glasses. “Did he answer?” When Vesper shook their head the woman frowned at xem. “That’s strange. He always calls. Did he have a big tournament?” She asked as xe loaded the drinks for her tables outside onto the tray.

“No, nothing he told me about.” Vesper set the last drink down on the tray then grabbed the dirty glasses to clean them. “I’m sure he’ll call or show. If you see him..” Miya picked up the tray of drinks, with a nod. “Thanks, Miya.” She flashed xem a sympathetic smile before leaving the bar counter to go deliver the requested drinks.

Vesper wasn’t entirely sure how much time had gone by, the hours melding into one another. They were only supposed to work a couple of hours, but opted to take the full shift instead when Alee didn’t call xem back. They leaned against the wall of the employee’s room, looking at xyr phone. Nothing, still. Xe opened Alee’s contact, looking at the several texts xe’d sent. They’d been read…

They sighed, pocketing the phone again. He was probably fine, Vesper reasoned, but it did little to quell their worry. The sorcerer ran a hand through their hair, redoing the ponytail in an attempt to calm themself before leaving the room again. They let the door swing shut behind them but stopped in their tracks upon seeing the bar.

“Alee..”

The man in question twitched even though they’d barely whispered his name. Vesper easily maneuvered behind the counter, stopping directly in front of their boyfriend. “Did you sleep on a bench again?” Xe questioned upon seeing his relatively disheveled appearance. It’d been a while since the man just disappeared to sleep outside, but Vesper couldn’t think of another plausible explanation.

Alee rolled his eyes though, sliding a card across the counter. The birthday card xe’d left him the night prior. “I don’t celebrate my birthday. You can have this back.” Ah. He was more than just mad. Vesper slipped the card into their apron, hiding it out of sight. Miya seemed relatively surprised when she popped up beside them, clearly having missed Alee entering.

“Hey, fox, happy bir-”

“Don’t.” Alee cut her off, eyes narrowing at Vesper who looked away in turn. Miya raised an eyebrow at the bartender, but they just took the glasses off of her tray. “Next time you think prying into my personal life is a good idea, try asking.” Alee hissed, voice low and venomous. Miya grimaced, turning on her heel and walking away to clean a table instead. This wasn’t for her.

“I didn’t know-”

“Clearly.” His tone didn’t lighten whatsoever. Vesper set the glasses where they went under the bar, throwing the towel onto xyr shoulder. Xe wasn’t sure what to say, Alee hadn’t gotten this angry at them in almost a year. “I need the keys to my apartment, I forgot them when I left.” He held out a gloved hand and Vesper reached for their keyring in their back pocket.

The keys were undone and dropped into his hand. Alee then slid off of the barstool, pocketing the keys as he did so. “I’m sorry.” Vesper apologised sincerely, mismatched eyes trained on the man. “Be safe. Love you.” But Alee didn’t bother responding, giving an annoyed half wave before turning and leaving.

Vesper sighed, sinking some to rest their head on the bartop. What a mess.. This wasn’t how xe planned this day going. “There there, he probably doesn’t totally hate you.” Miya patted xyr head before slipping behind the bar to dispose of the garbage she’d collected. Vesper merely groaned, sinking further.

“He took my set of his house keys..”

“Oh.. He might totally hate you.”

Xe groaned again.

#>chats from the dark #>Alee #>Spiced Maple

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always-andromeda · 2 years

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iv. sound of a love song | Joby Taylor x fem!Reader

Joby Taylor x fem!Reader

Word Count | 4,196

Summary | Stone cold sober and desperate for a change, Joby agrees to an enlightening meeting with your manager.

Author's Note | Ngl, this was equal parts fun and not at all fun to write! Also, yes, I 100% headcanon Joby as the kind of guy who would dunk on any short man, especially if they're rude to him. He gives me so much 6'1" and overly proud of it vibes.

Warnings | emotional abuse, mentions of anxiety and disassociation, please let me know if I need to add more!

You told Joby that you two were meeting with your boyfriend and manager, William Kelly, at some coffee shop. Joby had never heard of the place. But you raved about how much William loved the espresso at the joint and meeting him there would put him in a better mood. The way you dealt with William seemed transactional. He hadn’t expected you to just flirt your way into getting him another chance. But this was so ridiculous. Why it had to be an entire meeting in the first place, he had no clue. You had said before it would just be a phone call, right?

Joby kept his sunglasses on when you both entered the café, the bell above the door jingling. The light inside was artificial and intense and with the kind of hangover he was having, he knew it would only inspire an even nastier migraine.

But you were tugging at his jacket sleeve. “Please take those off before he gets here.”

“It’s fucking bright.” Behind the aviators he looked around.

You sighed. It was starting to feel like you were talking to a child. “I know, but it’ll annoy him and he’ll just ask you to take them off anyways. So please, let me save you the embarrassment.”

“Fine,” He slid the sunglasses down the bridge of his nose and hung them from his shirt, his own shirt. After you’d brought him to the motel and had someone from the front desk unlock his room with a master keycard, he’d taken your boyfriend's shirt off as quickly as possible. The article of clothing offended him so much that he wanted to throw it out the bathroom window into the dirt outside. He’d put on the fresh button up he’d found at the store with you before putting his hoodie and leather jacket back on. Naturally, he added his dark beanie and sunglasses to complete his signature “don’t fucking talk to me” ensemble. Spitefully, he returned the shirt you’d let him borrow.

You would be lying to yourself if he didn’t look good like this, if not a bit intimidating. It would frustrate your perfectionistic boyfriend. He would look at Joby and feel threatened. And that was without the help of the worsening hickey on your neck. You’d managed to find a concealer and powder at the store that could cover it for the time being, thank god. Even if he couldn’t see it, one thing was certain. William liked when people thought he was the most important guy in the room. And at that moment, Joby looked far too self important for a man who was pleading his case.

You’d be humiliated to admit to anyone that you often took advantage of William’s ego to get what you wanted. You justified it by telling yourself that if he didn’t want to be taken advantage of, he shouldn’t be so suggestible, especially to women he was attracted to. But the dependence you had on him made you feel so incapable. And part of you thought Will probably knew what you were doing anyways. Always one step in front of everyone else. And Joby was more out there than you ever had been. You were already well aware that he wouldn’t think twice to throw some sort of tantrum if things didn’t go his way.

You ordered a London fog and Joby opted for a black coffee, slapping a twenty dollar bill on the counter before you could get out your wallet. You muttered a thank you but he just shrugged and told the barista to keep the change. Once your drinks were ready, you settled at a booth in the corner, sitting across from each other.

“Please be on your best behavior.” You warned under your breath. A sour taste was already rising onto your tongue even as you sipped at the milky black tea.

“Excuse me, I am always on my best behavior.” He couldn’t sound genuinely hurt even if he tried. He played up the sarcasm, determined to make you crack the tiniest smile again. The way you were shifting in your seat troubled him.

“I am not kidding around this time. Will…he knows people who could really help you. And he doesn’t do favors for just anyone. Especially not random guys that his girlfriend brings in. But I’m sure I can convince him. You’re well established, you have a sizable portfolio, and you've got a new fire for music. You just have to show him you mean it and that you deserve it.”

Joby snorted. If he didn’t believe that he deserved it, how was he going to convince some corporate suit that he was. You shot a glare at him and he straightened in his seat. “Okay. Fine. I’ll be on my best behavior.” He relented, putting his elbow on the table to raise his hand. If he wasn’t so grateful he would be insulted with how you seemed to be talking down to him.

You sighed, eyes darting towards the door and back to your drink every few seconds, obviously waiting for your dick of a boyfriend. You weren’t supposed to look more worried than he was. Hell, he wasn’t exactly sure if you were getting this fidgety over him or the guy who was supposed to like you.

You tapped your nails on the tabletop and he placed his hand over yours, making your nervous reflex come to a standstill. You looked at your two hands out of the corner of your eye. His nails were painted black, but the paint was chipped. You internally winced, knowing that Will would notice. Maybe he'd find it charming. A part of Joby's look; a part of his new brand. Who were you kidding? He would hate it. He would call him unprofessional and make some comment about how it made his company look bad. But you were comforted by the warmth of Joby’s hand, how sincere the touch was.

He tilted his head to meet your uneasy gaze, “Hey, I really do appreciate all of this. The last person who was willing to fight for me this hard was my lawyer. Then again I was paying him so maybe that doesn’t even count…ah, fuck it. My point is that if we can pull this off, I think I’d be indebted to you forever. Anything you want, I’ll make it happen.” He promised. The leverage he once had had disappeared along with his band. But he was eager to repay you in some way.

You looked at him with sympathy and pursed your lips, “I don’t want anything from you, Joby.” He wanted to believe that. No one went into this line of work wanting to take from people. It was quite the opposite. But he couldn’t comfortably say that he was still the same naive eighteen year old who’d just wanted to make people happy. The attention and the pressure that came with the job compelled people to do terrible things just so they could keep growing. Keep chasing after larger stages, bigger audiences, louder cheers, more album sales. It was an unattainable high. If you didn’t want anything from him now, you’d want something later. As kind as you were, he barely knew you. That paranoid gut feeling was the last defense he had.

“That doesn’t matter. Whatever you want from me, it’s yours.” He repeated it, hoping that it would sink in this time. Your lips parted, still trying to think of what to say back to him. His look, his grasp on your hand, and the promise were all so serious. In a strange way, it left you breathless.

“Joby…I wa—”

The bell at the front was as jarring as a siren when you heard it.“There’s my girl!” An enthusiastic voice from the front of the store called to where you and Joby sat. You yanked your hand back into your lap before Joby even had a chance to react. He turned to see the man you'd performed with the night before. His blond hair was loose this time and tucked behind his ears. He wore browline glasses with the same turtleneck and slacks combination he remembered.

“Hey, baby!” Your quick grin mirrored Will’s seemingly enthusiastic mood. It bewildered Joby that he couldn’t see the telltale crinkles by your eyes as you raised your eyebrows, performing your excitement.

“I’ll get an Americano. Make sure it’s 185° exactly. Alright? Thanks.” Will recited the order smoothly. Joby didn’t like the flirtatious smirk he gave to the barista. The barista told him his total and Joby had to hold back a groan as the guy payed with a credit card and left no tip.

“Make it quick, kid. I’ve got a meeting.” If Joby had been the barista, he would’ve spit in his drink for sure. But the barista just rolled her eyes and gave a customer service smile. Within minutes, the drink was ready and he was sauntering over to the booth. Joby took a sip of his coffee to hide the grimace that was threatening to form on his face. He nearly choked on his drink when he saw how short Will was. He estimated that he was about a full head shorter than him. Will sat beside you on the booth, taking a long swig of his own drink, his Adam's apple slowly bobbing. Once he set the drink down, he grabbed your chin and jerked your face towards his.

“Missed you,” he said blankly.

“Missed you, too!” You still wore that exaggerated grin. And before Joby knew it, Will pressed a long, obnoxious kiss to your lips. Joby could only stare down at his boots, feeling far too uncomfortable to express his disgust. This wasn’t some passionately awkward kiss shared by a drunk couple that could still be found endearing. Your eyes were open longer than they should’ve been. And Will held onto your chin tighter as it went on, squishing your skin so hard Joby was convinced it would leave a bruise. When he finally let go, he gave you the same crooked smirk Joby had seen him aim at the barista.

Joby was almost taken aback when Will redirected his focus to him, evidently satisfied with the display. His expression went deadly serious. From this angle Joby got to see that he was clean shaven but the wrinkles on his forehead betrayed some age. Joby guessed he was a handful of years older than him.

“Mr. Taylor, it certainly is a surprise to meet you. My girlfriend told me a bit about you, but I’m afraid she didn’t explain your situation well enough. Would you mind elaborating on why we’re meeting?” His voice was sharp as a knife, courteous, but clearly not kind.

“Oh, I’m sorry, baby. Joby is just-”

“Hush, y/n. I asked him, not you.” Will dismissed you so suddenly that you chirped a small “sorry” even while your face turned a deep red. Joby wanted to fucking scream at this guy. Who did he think he was? Just because he was your boyfriend, it didn’t mean he could be so cold. If anything, that was more of a reason why he shouldn’t speak to you like that. Like you were any better? You yelled at her in her own apartment just last night. Don’t go acting all high and mighty.

Joby often dealt with the critic in his head. It was a miserable little creature sitting in a director’s chair scrutinizing him all the time. He couldn’t remember when it first started haunting him, but he was more familiar with that voice than his own. Or maybe, it sounded closer to what he always thought he should sound like: sniveling and whiny. So when he heard the smaller, more sympathetic voice, he was a little confused.

As much as you wanna deck this guy, you can’t. For her sake. Because who knows what kind of shit this guy will give her. And imagine how disappointed she’d be seeing Joby Taylor fail spectacularly once again. She’s rooting for you. Don’t make her regret it. Had his conscience returned after all these years?

As polite as he could manage, Joby Taylor held out his hand for Will to shake and flashed his best smile, now very glad that he’d remembered to brush his teeth this morning. “Good morning, Mr. Kelly. The pleasure is all mine. I’m delighted you agreed to meet with me today.” It had been a while since Joby had had to suck up to some executive schmuck but he didn’t think his act was too shabby. He’d give himself a record deal if he were Will.

As Joby gave a polished rundown of his current situation, he would glance at you between some words. He had to know if you were paying attention to the fantastic show he was putting on; you must be so proud. He would prove that you placed your bets on the right horse. To his dismay, however, you weren’t looking at him. Your expression was blank, staring out the window next to you.

You fixated on a bird outside in the parking lot. It was small, likely a baby, with a wing that didn’t look quite right. The sight of it scuttling around made your heartbeat quicken but you couldn’t look away. You disassociated like this pretty often, especially when Will was talking business. It was an unpleasant sort of discussion you usually didn’t want to take part in. Plus, you didn’t know nearly enough to have anything valuable to say. William would swiftly humble you anyways. That’s why he was so important. When you would play gigs, he was great at talking to the owners of a venue and finalizing all the details. That left you to worry about most of the actual music.

You began listening again when Will spoke up, cutting precisely through all of the bullshit pleasantries Joby was attempting to lay out, "Why did you leave Snake Trouble?"

Joby nodded his head and managed a sheepish laugh, "Creative differences mostly."

"Every musician says that."

"Well, with this musician, it's true."

"I'm not doubting that." Will gave a low laugh, "But what I’m wondering is what 'creative differences' made you leave the band you started midway through a leg of a tour? You could see how concerned that might make a potential manager, I assume."

Swallowing his pride, Joby fessed up, "I had some personal things going on at the time and I had to take some time off to take care of them." He knew not to go too in depth. Lots of guys in the industry had these kinds of issues but no one mentioned them by name. They just called their ex-wives bitches around their buddies and sent their kids dollar store Hallmark cards on their birthdays. Joby didn't really like being in the gallery of those guys anymore than he liked trying to explain it to your snot-nosed boyfriend in the most tame way possible. But watering down the truth was the only way he could be redeemable, he thought.

Will stared, not quite convinced but not wanting to waste time pushing the issue. So he laced his fingers together in front of him and continued. "So we get closer to getting a picture of your situation…" his eyebrows lowered at Joby, staring with beady eyes like he was prey, "Now, I have listened to your bands albums. All of them."

Joby grinned slightly, hoping this would lead to something lighter. He was always better at talking about the music than anything else. "I hope you enjoyed what you heard."

Will chuckled deeply, "I'm going to be honest with you, Mr. Taylor, it was shit. Don't get me wrong you have some good singles in your discography and your vocals certainly show some...promise. But the lyrics are tired and commercial. Whoever was doing the writing for Snake Trouble deserves to be shot."

You watched Joby clench his fist on the table so hard that the skin around his knuckles turned almost white. Will looked pleased as punch with the reaction. Knowing him for as long as you had, you were all too familiar with what Will was trying to do. This was all about kicking Joby in the shins until he'd stay down. You guessed that Will had pegged Joby as a massive piece of work from the second he sat at the booth. He wasn't wrong but it wasn't necessary; Joby was already going through enough. But as much as you wanted to come to his defense, you knew it would only raise Will’s temper.

Joby could've started a fight. He bet that he could pummel your stupid boyfriend's face into a pulp and tell him to fuck off before he could pull another disgusting smirk. How dare he call his life's work tired? But you're looking at him with wide, intense eyes, begging him to keep it cool. The sympathetic voice chimed in again. You swore you'd keep your shit together. And she believed in you enough to help you. You've dealt with plenty of assholes in your life. You can deal with this one.

So, with his ego bruised, he tried to recover. "I-I-I'm sorry to hear that. Writing was mostly a group effort. So I could see how the material sounds...unfocused."

Will wasn’t done with him. He would make him submit. "We both weren't born yesterday. You know how quickly talk gets around this scene. And if I'm taking on a new talent, I'd like them to be capable. I'm not just going to allow a slimeball like you use my name, my resources to get on a stage just so you can screw me over with your antics. So if you want this, you're going to have to do some things for me first."

Joby nodded once.

"First, clean up the act. Being this greasy…mess… is only endearing to a point. Second, I want you to talk to one of my producers. He enjoys the kind of shit you’ve done, he'll get a real kick out of you. Third, write some new shit. If you're such a changed man, then your material should reflect it. I’m expecting something better than Rockin’ Away the Night." There was that deceptive smirk.

Stifling a scowl, Joby began to answer, "Sounds good-"

But before he could finish, Will had one more thought to tack on, "You've got about a month. I'll be out of town until then. When I get back, you better have some stuff that is ready for a stage. I can get you a gig after that. We'll see how a solo Joby Taylor will really work out."

Joby caught you sneaking a glance at Will, brows knitted with confusion. Will took the chance to grab your chin again. This time he didn't kiss you. He just stared at your face intently, studying something. After a few tense seconds, he let go once more.

"Taylor, I'll have my producer call you. I've got to run." Neglecting to say goodbye to you, Will left the coffee shop. As soon as the door closed, you slouched in your seat a little, finally feeling like you could give your spine a break from sitting so straight. You looked outside and watched Will get into his car. He pulled out of his parking space and before you could turn away, you saw one of his back tires roll over the flailing bird. With such ease, the creature was completely obliterated. As if it had never existed in the first place. Your eyelids flew shut, replaying the scene on the inside of them. Will would've rolled his eyes seeing how you pinched your brows together in distress.

Joby fists were still resting on the table. He let his jaw relax, finally noticing how hard he had been gritting his teeth. You put down a crumpled napkin you'd bunched up in your hand and said a soft, "c'mon" before leaving the booth behind. You’d barely touched your drink. Joby watched you walk away, seeming to have wilted from the conversation. The sight sent a strange chill up his spine.

You got back into your car and wrapped your hands around the wheel, squeezing until you felt your nails dig so deep into the foam cover that it left little crescent shaped indents. Joby followed a little bit later, settling in the passenger seat abruptly. Running a hand through his hair, he groaned. You wouldn't look at him again. Even though he'd done so well. He'd put up with Will inspecting him like he was a piece of garbage. He made the guttural sound again, lending more emphasis to his frustration. Still, no answer from you.

Joby broke the uncomfortable stillness, "What the fuck was that all about?"

"Hmm, the meeting?" Your voice was tired and hoarse like you’d just woken up.

"Yeah, I'm talking about that fucking joke of a meeting." He spat.

You attempted to appease him, "Listen, I know it wasn't fun but-"

"Fun?" he laughed incredulously, "That's a hell of an understatement. That was a fucking…ambush! And you didn't say a thing! Why wouldn't you warn me that that asshole was gonna come in, guns blazing, talking about how shitty my music is?"

"How was I supposed to know that would happen?"

"Oh, I dunno, you're only fucking the guy."

You brush off the crude comment, "Will has done a lot of work for a lot of artists starting out. If you’d just take his critiques and make some changes, you're golden." Joby's frown was defiant, decidedly upset with you. You were unable to control your frustration anymore, "You have some fucking ginormous balls to be calling the guy who could be managing you soon an asshole."

"Because that asshole would be lucky to manage me. I don't care who he's worked with. I don't care what he does for people. You can have basic fucking respect for a guy who's been doing this shit longer than he's been wearing big boy clothes." He had been waiting to rip into the guy. And you didn’t seem like the type that would run and snitch on him no matter how upset you were.

"You're one to talk about being a big boy because you act like such a fucking child. You expect everything to be so easy for you that even when people are handing you the chance of a lifetime, you'll still find a way to complain about it. I have never met someone so...entitled...a-a-and selfish." Your chest heaved with a new fiery energy.

Part of Joby was satisfied. He’d been waiting for you to snap for hours. This was what had made it happen though? You would be well within your right to be angry at him for a number of things, but his entitlement was the breaking point? The idea confused him. But it made him acutely aware of how little of it was your fault. None of it was. Joby didn't want to apologize again even if he knew that he should. He was starting to think that you wouldn’t believe him, even if he did really mean it. He’d just end up doing something stupid all over again.

"I'm the asshole, aren't I?" he conceded.

"Yeah, you really are." You gave him a weary stare. The weight on your shoulders seemed to have lifted, if only slightly.

He ruminated in the thought for a second, the tension slowly fizzling out. Suddenly, he remembered that he basically had nothing on him aside from his clothes, his wallet, and the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. He hadn't planned to need anything else. But the past twenty four hours of his life had shifted his situation quite radically.

"I need my guitar. And my car."

You waved your hand at him. "Then get them. You'll need them if you're gonna do this."

His mouth hung open before he managed to say anything, "That's not gonna be easy."

"Why?"

God, you were going to be pissed. You were going to absolutely despise him. "They're kind of...at a motel...about four hours away..."

"For fuck's sake." You rubbed your hand at the back of your neck and gave him an expectant look, urging him to explain himself.

"Don't ask."

Joby Taylor was going to be the death of you. With the bright sun shining through the car window and hitting his pale skin, he squinted and put his sunglasses back on. You probably would have told him to figure the problem out himself if he didn't look that way, just as stubborn and reckless as he had years before. If he didn’t look so guilty and so reluctant, you wouldn’t have dedicated any more of your time being so worried about him. But he was like the first time you'd ever seen him perform. He was older and a bit more weathered by life now, but damn it, you believed in him in all of his wreckless glory.

You shifted your car into gear. "Then let's get your shit."

Taglist | @lokis-army-77 @angelicbruhl @pierres-new-spectacles @trelaney

#danonation #paul dano #joby taylor x reader #joby taylor #for ellen #˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚

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bowieandqueen11 · 2 years

Text

Telling Tobey!Peter You’re Pregnant Would Include...

Request: Hello, I was wondering if you could write a Peter Parker (Tobey) imagine or headcanon where the reader (his wife) tells him she’s pregnant with their first child❤️ Could it also be a boy please? Thank you!

Ahhh this is such a sweet request could you IMAGINE his face????

If you enjoy, please support me by commenting and reblogging!!

(I do not own Spider-Man or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @fqjth.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

I’m SCREAMING!!! Can you imagine what Peter would do??? Man would literally collapse face down onto the floor in front of you he would be so over the MOON.

You decide to tell your husband in just kind of a spur of the moment situation. You had thought about doing some big grand event to tell him the news, as Harry and M.J. had been helping you plan out the whole day. You were going to bring him to the New York Hall of Science on the weekend, as Harry had managed to pull some strings and arranged for some of the environmental exhibition panels to morph from their leafy display into: ‘Peter you’re a father!’

But in the end up, just saying the words felt more natural? Just much more... Peter. That connection, that peace and love and easy homeliness just meant a more intimate setting between the two of you just felt right in the moment.

It had been a tranquil, lush spring day - the kind where the streets seemed to sing underneath the honey gold dawn, and the flowers seemed to twirl like feathers along the side walk as the two of you made your way to Aunt May’s home. A cosy, amiable and familiar morning was spent with you and Peter finally helping Aunt May redecorate the downstairs rooms. Whenever Peter took a break to stop spreading the egg shell blue specks along the living room wall, he spent the time sipping lemonade May had left out for the two of you. He would come to where you were spreading red in the kitchen stepladder, wrapping an arm around your waist until you finally came back down to the floor with a big smile on your face.

The painting would end up being left abandoned for the rest of the day. Aunt May comes in with arms full of groceries a couple of hours later, and gasps mildly in surprise when she peers around the living room doorway and spots the two of you lying side by side on the carpet. Peter’s shirt rubs against your back from where his left arm is lying around your back and resting happily against your hip. The two of you are giggling into each other’s faces, you fondly pressing your nose against his and tipping his glasses back up his face. He presses a gentle butterfly kiss against the tip of yours as you pull away, shuffling his thighs closer towards you as he uses his free hand to turn another page of the old photo album.

May decides to treat you all by cooking Peter’s childhood favourite: Lasagne followed by Cherry Pie, and the three of you spend a fond afternoon laughing and reminiscing old stories about the time Peter got stuck in his window when he was sneaking round next door to see you during your fifth year of High School. Or how he was so nervous for your first date that he accidentally tripped over the kitchen table and spilled his whole glass of orange juice over Ben’s head.

Before you leave, May slips over to you while Peter is busy putting back on his coat, and grabbing the jacket he will soon wrap around your shoulders with a lovestruck smile, the same puppy dog eyes he first gave you all those years ago still firmly (and always will be) etched over his features every time he looks at you. Because she just always knows these things, she slips a twenty dollar bill into your hand and pulls you down until she’s whispering into your ear.

‘Now you take this, and you use it for the crib. You take care of yourself now, or I’ll know about it.’

You can find a tear in your eye as she wraps you up in a big hug, nearly lifting you off the ground despite how frail she looks. Peter, being the big loveable dope he is, just wanders over with that merrily content look in his face as he comes behind you and joins the hug without really knowing what’s going on.

It just felt so right - so natural to be starting a family with Peter Parker, that as soon as the two of you finally manage to get the door to your apartment banged open with your joined shoulders, you can’t wait any longer. You just knew it had to be now. So, Peter walks over to loosen his tie and drop it onto the bed, and out of the corner of his eye his Spider-Sense kicks in and he catches you shivering with excitement about something.

With raised eyebrows, he just knows to gently take your hand and lead you down towards the bed. With a big, goofy, questioning smile on his face, he perches the two of you down in front of the metal frame, until your knees are touching. Gently resting your hands in his lap, he lovingly gives you the time you need to form whatever words you need to say - the ones that, at the moment, are catching like thick treacle against the back of your throat.

In the end, you just turn his palms up until you’re cupping the backs of his hands. With a confused squint, he watches as you slowly pull them down and leave them resting gingerly against your stomach, each inch as you stare at his face leaving every nerve in your body tingling with electricity. He rubs gently against your skin with his thumbs, just always so happy to be allowed to be close to you. that for a moment he doesn’t realise that you’re trying to tell him something.

So you just blurt it out.

‘Peter, I’m- I’m pregnant! You’re going to be a father, Peter!’

Sadly, you don’t have your own version of the Spidey-Sense, so you think that he’s taken the news well. He just kind of freezes, that big blank smile still plastered on his face. But those eyes, oh those huge glassy eyes grow wider inch by inch until you’re worried they’re about to pop out of his head. And then his shoulder just kind of sway, and then his chest wavers, and then he straight up rolls his eyes back and collapses down onto the wooden floor as you reach out to try and grab him.

While you’re busy trying to slap his face and wake him up, Mr. Ditkovich is busy banging on your door trying to find out what that massive thump means you’ve broken.

After a few groans, he finally comes round again. And straight away, he seems to come to his senses and pounces on you until you’re flying back and your head hits the pillows. In less than a second flat he’s straddling you, hair messy and mouth wild as he presses loads of little kisses over your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, your ears your chin your knuckles your eyelids your-

He’s just saying ‘I love you, I love you I love you I love you’ over and over again between each press of his lips against you. Well, until he realises he may have hurt you and suddenly whips his leg off of you, apologising profusely.

You just grab him by the back of his neck and pull him down, chest first, on top of you again, until you can feel his weight pressed against you. He gives in, of course he does, just melting totally in to you as he pulls you onto his side and just starts manically giggling, dress shoes still on.

He spends the whole night (once you’ve managed to detach his sloth arms from you, that is) with his head lying pressed against your stomach. His nose is flattened against your side, and you can feel his lips move sleepily against your waist as his hand rests on your little baby bump. Even half-asleep, his excitement keeps him wired and awake as he just murmurs things like ‘wow wow wow’ and ‘your momma is the most amazing woman in the whole wild world, I can’t wait for you to meet her.’

Sometimes you wake up to see him in the same position, but now curled up against your body, just humming to your baby. Every so often, he has to stop and giggle because his cheeks are burning bright red with joy and hope and anticipation.

When he’s out as Spider-Man after that, he sits on the perches of buildings a lot as he waits for news from his police radio. He’s sewn a special little pocket down by his heart that he keeps the sonogram in, and he pulls it out just to stroke his finger over it and feel his heart thunder against his breast.

Sometimes you go to clean the suit, and find the material around the bug eyes soaking wet.

He’s really bad at setting up the crib in the corner of your apartment. In the end up, when one of the screwdrivers ends up in the wall, he gives up and uses his web fluid to stick it all together. His favourite part of this endeavour was standing behind you and looking at the slightly crooked final project, rubbing your swollen stomach as he presses his chin into the dip of your neck.

He’s the kind of man to go into a panic and ask if you need him to swing you to the hospital every time the baby kicks.

He comes home with all your shirts and underwear dyed red one day. With a sorry shrug of his shoulders, he finally relents that he wasn’t paying attention to the machine because he was too busy sitting on one of the plastic chairs, the other piled with library books he had taken out about fatherhood.

The two of you go out shopping for baby supplies with a list complied for you by Aunt May. You manage to lose Peter in the toy aisle of one of the department stores, and you finally find him staring wide eyed at a little fuzzy spider toy with yellow booties on each of its legs.

Of course you end up buying it, and you’d think by the high squeaky laugh he gives every time he sees it that he was the kid it was bought for.

When you find out the sex of your baby, Peter is SO overjoyed he honestly just kind of crumples into your lap and starts sobbing (although he would have loved a little baby girl as well).

He’s so so happy, but at the same time he’s so afraid. He doesn’t want his child to end up like him, alone and scared after his parents died.

Your baby is a blessing, and so he’s going to try and be ten times the man he ever was for you. He’s going to finally live up to the man his Uncle knew he could be.

The two of you end up naming your baby boy Ben, and you see him sometimes up in the night. He always knows, just out of his innate paternal instinct when his baby needs him, so he always gets up and lets you sleep. But you wake up, and through the lone few rays of silvery light of moonlight that flood through the window panes you see your husband rocking your child in his muscular arms. Tears are spilling down his cheeks as he rubs his knuckles over his cheek, before going down to tickle his stomach.

He just smiles and cries as he revels in the knowledge that his life is perfect, and he wouldn’t change any bump along the way to finally reach this moment.

#Spiderman #no way home #Tobey Maguire #Peter Parker #Peter Parker imagine #marvel #Spiderman imagine #Spiderman no way home #Peter Parker x reader #Spiderman x reader #Peter Parker headcanons #Spiderman headcanons #tobey!spidey

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Note

"Can I please have a hug?"

Also uses prompt from another anon: I'll make you feel good

CW: Implied dubcon, survivor in very fucky headspace about spice, touch starved whumpee, escaped whumpee, BBU, former pet whumpee

"What did you get?" Mr. Martin glances up from the magazine he's flipping through as Raphael walks in the door.

Raphael gives him a smile, guileless and sincere and utterly, totally faked. Not that anyone can tell if he doesn't want them to. He'd always gotten high marks for lying in training. "Shirts, shoes, underwear, socks. Some pants."

Mr. Martin looks over the edge of his reading glasses and takes in the bags in Raphael's hands. "Doesn't look like it cost as much money as I gave you."

Raphael shrugs, casual, at-ease. Tension prickles but he has it shoved down so deep within him none of it shows, not even a single twitching muscle. "I went and got the shoes new," He says, adding a note of apology. "I've never worn shoes I chose myself before."

It's a lie.

But Mr. Martin doesn't know that.

He smiles, pleased, and looks back to his magazine. "Well, good. You're doing well with your solo outings, Raph. I'm very pleased."

Say good boy. Tell me I'm good.

He knows the words aren't coming, not here, but still he hopes.

After a pause, he turns and heads up the stairs to his little room. Just one bed, one dresser, one him. All by himself.

Down the hall, there's the sound of two others giggling and then shushing each other. He wonders if they were talking about him as he closes his door.

It wasn't only a lie. There are two new shirts, two pairs of pants, and some boxers and socks in here. There is a pair of new shoes, really new. They cost sixty dollars, counted out slowly while fighting his throbbing headache.

The clothes, though, were from the mission and came to him for free.

He'd taken the money he didn't need to spend and bought a bus ticket downtown, where the other ones like him sell what used to be taken from them by coercion, by a mockery of love, or by force.

He had found the first person he saw, a woman with a bracelet on her left wrist, and asked her if she was working. The sun was still up, most people were just walking around.

She had looked at him and smiled, flat and empty. Baby, I am always working. Come over, I'll make you feel good.

He had held out a twenty dollar bill and asked, can I please just have a hug? Will you hug me?

She knew he was like her the second the words left his mouth. Her flat expression shifted to compassion and she'd pulled him close, one hand up in his hair, holding his head against her bare shoulder warm in the sun.

He breathed in her warmth, and tears ran from his eyes over the curve of her arm and down. Please, he had whispered. No one will touch me. Please.

She took his twenty dollars and led him, stumbling like a new fawn, back to her apartment.

She shared it with three others, and they were home and everyone sat him down and gave him drinks. They talked until he could hardly croak another word, sharing their stories. Their escapes. How they'd lived.

They shared the safehouses that kicked them out, or just made it hard to feel at home.

They laid around in a pile, and Raphael felt always a warm limb, an arm or leg thrown over him, a hand pressed palm against back or chest or stomach. At some point talking became touch, became skin, became feeling whole again.

At some point he had tipped his head and looked up at her and said, please, let me.

One behind him laughed, his hands on Raphael's hips, while another under him kissed the inside of his elbow, her hips rolling against his, a warmth surrounding him. None of them had told him their names. He never told them his.

She had smiled down at him, the woman he met on the street, and tipped his chin up and bent herself at the waist to kiss him.

Then her hands went to his head and moved him where she wanted to feel his tongue.

When he left, he clutched his bags in a daze and bought a bus ticket back to the safehouse. His legs wobbled and he stung, sweet and familiar, inside. He felt destroyed and remade, at once.

He gave them all the money he had left.

They didn't turn it down.

But they gave him a phone number and told him to call and come back again.

Now, he lays on his back on his small bed in his tiny bedroom, alone.

Closing his eyes, he thinks of their touch, how they gave him what he wanted even though Mr Martin says it's not what he needs.

He feels better... and so much worse.

If Mr. Martin finds out, he'll be kicked out of the safehouse. Fraternizing with other Romantics. Acting out his training. Bad pet.

Or rather... Good pet. Bad person.

His eyes close against a new rush of tears.

All he'd really wanted was a hug.

#raphael is no one's saint #whump #pet whump #box boy #box boy universe #escaped whumpee #bad coping mechanisms #dubcon tw #implied dubcon #implied group spice #bbu #bad safehouse #touch starvation #touch starved

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poisonedapples · 3 years

Text

Patton’s Home For Traumatized Kids - Chapter Five

Bad Memories Don’t Erase

Chapter Summary: Roman tags along with Logan and Virgil to hang out at their friend’s house.

First Chapter Previous Chapter Story Masterlist

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of past abuse, stealing, and one inappropriate joke

Word Count: 4,008

Taglist: @shade-romeo, @grayson-22, @pixelated-pineapple, @acrobaticcatfeline, @astrozei, @edupunkn00b, @princey-7258, @eternalmoonlight19, @remy-the-lemon-berry, @look-ma-im-on-tv, @mariniacipher, @bigwendymonster, @nonbinary-octopus

Notes: This chapter’s a little short, but the next one is gonna be really long, so hopefully that makes up for it

On Sunday the next day, Patton finally took Roman to buy his gym clothes. Roman was trying to hide a goofy smile while sitting in the back seat, desperate to not get his hopes up while also ecstatic his plan was working so far. He was going to have Patton stay in the car while Roman shopped for clothes! This had never worked on his dad before!

By the time Patton finally parked the car in the parking lot of the store, Roman’s chest felt weighted from his anxiety, waiting to see Patton’s final verdict. So long as he didn’t change his mind now, then Roman was in the clear. He hoped to be in the clear.

“Alright, kiddo,” Roman’s heart stopped as Patton pulled out his wallet and gave him some money. “Forty dollars should be more than enough for some pairs of gym pants and shirts. Give me back all the change when you come back, okay?”

“I will! Promise!” Roman wanted to jump for joy. It was working!

“Text me when you’re checking out so you don’t surprise me, and if you see something else you might want, just text me before you buy it so I know. Tell me if you have any issues, okay?”

“Okay!”

Patton smiled. “Go on then, kiddo.”

Roman practically leaped out the door to skip his way to the front entrance of the clothing store, two twenty dollar bills crumbled in his pocket. He got away with it! No parents staring him down while he changed outfits!

Roman walked into the store and tried to hide the skip in his step. With no parents to watch him, he could buy what he actually wanted to wear, no tight pants and scoop neck shirts. No, Roman wanted to look like his real goal. His goal of being a blob of cloth that vaguely resembled a human.

Granted, he’d mostly gotten there. His aunt replaced all of his wardrobe, so his current clothes were a lot more comfortable to wear even if they weren’t very fashionable. Mostly bright colored t-shirts and pants, maybe some shorts if they were able to reach down far enough. Maybe once he was more comfortable with himself he could actually test out more styles, but for now, oversized clothes were all he could handle.

Roman’s walk sped up slightly when his eyes landed on the men’s athletic section. He had to be quick with this, he didn’t want Patton getting impatient and coming in to check on him. Roman looked through the shorts and shirt sizes, easily finding a size up for a couple shirts while heavily struggling on the shorts. Roman groaned. It was always the shorts that caused the issue, they were always too high up. What if he was sitting down and the pant leg rode up too far? No, Roman refused to get something like that willingly.

Roman took all the athletic shorts that could fit him and held them up in front of his legs. Most of them only made it to his lower thigh, but he managed to find two shorts that made it to right below his knee. Roman smiled and bounced on his toes, grabbed his items and rushed to find a dressing room. Once he did, he rushed into the first empty area he saw and locked the door. The mirrors on the walls and gaps in the door made it hard for him to change comfortably, so instead Roman tried to press himself against the very corner of the room when he was changing.

Between the six shirts and two pants Roman found, he was pretty happy with most of his choices. Thankfully, the long shorts looked fine, so Roman hung them up on a hook with a sign over it saying I’m buying this! and considered it a success. However, when it got time to look at the shirts, only three of them were good enough for purchase. The white one he grabbed was practically see-through, and the other two had a scratchy inside material that Roman couldn’t stand, so they got put on the reject hook while the other three passed the test.

For a rushed shopping visit, Roman was pretty pleased with his choices. Two shorts might not be enough for five days worth of classes, but maybe Roman could keep one pair in his locker until it started to stink. Which might be a little gross, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Roman exited the dressing room and put his rejected shirts on a rack outside, carrying his other items to the checkout area. Before he got in line, he looked at all the price tags and added them up in his head best he could. The shirts were about six dollars each, and the shorts were a little over five after tax. Which means, adding up the extra cents, he’d have to pay twenty nine dollars for the clothes in total. Considering Patton gave him forty dollars, this was plenty.

Roman hesitated for a second. He stuffed his hand into his pocket to feel the money in the palm of his hand while he thought about his options. If he told Patton the truth, Roman would give him eleven dollars and there would be no issues. Patton might let him do this again next time they go shopping, too. But also…Roman had no backup plan. He was stuck with Patton with nowhere to go if things went wrong.

His aunt told him that Roman could always go back to her house if a guardian was abusing him, and he had every intention to take her up on that offer the second the opportunity arose. But even if Roman walked to her house on foot, he had no money for food during that trip. She lived so far away from him now, there was no way to get to safety without a dollar to his name. But if he stole some from Patton, then Roman could have a serious issue on his hands.

Roman slowly walked up to the check out area and handed the teenage worker the clothes. As she scanned all the items with a satisfying beep, Roman felt himself getting antsy. There’s no guarantee Patton will let me do this again. I’ve already gotten away with so much, and the more time I spend around him, the more danger I’m in. But if Patton notices I stole from him, he could be furious. Is there even a right answer here?

“Twenty nine dollars and thirty two cents.” The cashier said cheerfully. Roman handed her the money and she put it in the register, then handed Roman a bunch of coins, two five dollar bills, and a one dollar. She smiled. “Would you like a receipt?”

“Uh, no thank you.”

When the receipt printed, the cashier tore it out and threw it in the trash behind her. “Have a nice day.”

“You too.” Roman squeaked, rushing away from the register to stare at the money. Apparently they ran out of ten dollar bills, because the money was split perfectly for taking without it being obvious. Roman considered this a sign to take his chance. He put a five dollar bill and a quarter in his left pocket and shoved the rest in his right. It wasn’t much, but he could build it up. This was only the beginning.

Roman walked out of the store and tried to act normal instead of anxious. Worst case scenario, he’d say he forgot to bring out the rest and give Patton the other bills. Giving away the quarter also would be too obvious, but he could get away with stealing that at least. When he made it to Patton's car, Roman opened the back seat and tossed his clothes next to him.

“Hey, kiddo!” Patton greeted, “Got any extra cash to give me?”

“Uh, yeah, here.” Roman dug into his right pocket to grab half the money and handed it to him. Patton put the coins in his pocket and put the two bills in his wallet. He didn’t seem to consider how much Roman gave him, instead he started backing out of the driveway and got distracted while reversing. Roman let out a quiet sigh of relief.

He felt the five dollars still stored in his pocket. He got away with it. For now.

***

“We’re home!” Patton announced as he and Roman stepped inside. Logan and Virgil were both lying on the couch, and Logan perked up from his spot.

“Wonderful. We wanted to ask both of you a question.” Logan said.

Patton seemed intrigued. “What question?”

“Can we go to Janus’ house, Pat?” Virgil asked.

“Oh, of course, kiddos! Do you know when you might be back?”

Virgil thought about it. “Probably at six before dinner.”

“Perfect! Just text me if that changes so I don’t worry, okay?”

“We will.” Logan reassured, “And Roman, would you like to come with us?”

Roman tilted his head to the side. “Me? I don’t even know who Janice is.”

Virgil sunk into the couch more. “Friend of ours. Has a snake, talks a lot about philosophy and books. Acts like a tired underaged wine aunt.”

“Right, well, still. Isn’t it a little strange for me to tag along to a stranger's house?” Roman pointed out.

“Janus wouldn’t mind, I’m sure.” Logan said. “Of course, you don’t have to, we simply figured you would like the invitation so you’re not the only one left out.”

Roman’s eyes widened when Logan said that. Wait, shit, if Logan and Virgil are going to this girl’s house, then Roman will be here. Alone. With Patton. Until six in the afternoon.

Roman’s mood change was almost instant. “Well then, perhaps I should go! Make new friends and establish bonds, or whatever!”

Virgil smirked. “Sweet. It’s a short walk, just a block away. Just let us grab our shoes and we can head out.”

“I’ll tell Janus we’ll be bringing a third party.”

Roman let out a breath of relief. As Virgil and Logan grabbed whatever they needed, Roman set his new bag of clothes in his room next to his backpack. He’d have to remember to put some boxers in there before tomorrow morning, too.

Roman felt the five dollars in his pocket again. He took the money and hid it deep in his backpack in a hidden pocket he hoped wasn’t too easy to find. Satisfied with that for now, Roman stepped back outside of his room and waited for the others.

Once everyone was situated, Virgil called out to let Patton know they were leaving the house and then closed the door. Logan and Virgil did most of the talking as they walked while Roman just listened, following behind them and letting the two lead the way.

“Oh, and Roman,” Logan suddenly said during a point of silence, “Another one of our friends may also show up later at Janus’ house. He said he might be coming, so we’ll see.”

Roman shrugged. “Sounds fine to me.”

“Alright.”

No one said anything else after that on the walk. After a while, Virgil and Logan stopped in front of a house and started walking up the driveway to the front door. As Virgil knocked on the door, Roman stood awkwardly off to the side until someone answered.

It wasn’t long before the door swung open, showing a teenage kid with a large birthmark under his left eye. He rested his elbow on the top of the black and yellow cane next to him and smirked. Was he the brother, perhaps?

“I’ve been expecting you.” He said menacingly.

“‘Sup, fucker.” Virgil greeted.

“Hello, Janus.”

Wait, what? Against his better judgment, Roman forced himself to stand in front of Logan to face Janus. “Wait, your name is Janice?” He asked.

Janus put his hand on his face. “Janus. It’s Janus. J-a-n-u-s, not the old lady name Janice.”

Roman felt his face grow hot. “…Oh. Well, uh…”

Janus rolled his eyes and held the door open wider. “Just come inside.”

Virgil was the first to step in, with Logan following after while Roman hesitated. He made an awful first impression, maybe he should just walk around the block for a while instead-

“Come on, my arm is tired.” Janus coaxed. Roman felt too awkward to walk away, so he instead sucked it up and stepped inside the house with everyone else.

The house was quite nice. The walls were painted dark and the carpet was red, but it looked nice in a Victorian era kind of way. On the living room coffee table were piles of fabric and a sewing machine, seemingly making something that looked like a suit. Janus took the cane he was holding and threw it onto the couch. Well, apparently it was just a part of the outfit.

Virgil motioned to all the fabric on the table. “Fuck are you making now, dude?”

“I’m making the refined villain look of my dreams.”

“Nice. When do you think you’ll finish it?”

“Possibly tomorrow. I’ll start on it again after school.”

“Do you make your own clothes?” Roman asked, hoping to distract himself from his previous embarrassment.

Janus smiled slightly. “Less clothes, more costumes. Mostly for myself, but sometimes I make them for the high school’s theater when I’m feeling generous.”

“Oh, that sounds fun!”

“Wanna see Janus’ costume closet?” Virgil asked.

Roman shrugged. “If he wants me to.”

“Oh yeah, just talk about me like I’m not here.” Janus rolled his eyes and motioned for everyone to follow him. He had a downstairs family room with a closet off to the side. Once everyone was downstairs, Janus opened it and let Roman look inside.

“…Woah.” Roman looked at all the costumes, astonished and full of wonder. A lot of them were very extravagant, like they were specifically designed for a dramatic person, so Roman felt a calling toward them. He took a few of them off their hangers to look at; roaring twenties inspired suits and a black dresses with fancy gold finishes. Roman ran his hand on the fabric like they were fancy relics.

“They are quite high-quality.” Logan said, “Costume design is certainly one of Janus’ greatest skills.”

“I can see that.” Roman whispered.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Don’t make his ego bigger than it already is.”

“Oh no, please do continue, I’m designed to be the center of attention.” Janus smirked.

Roman laughed and put the costumes back on the rack. It seemed like him and Janus were pretty similar in personality, just on opposite ends of the spectrum. Both dramatic artists, except one likes to add that with tons of sarcasm. He could see them getting along quite easily.

“Also, Janus,” Virgil said while looking at his phone, “Rat bastard says he’s coming over. He’ll be here in ten.”

“Ugh, fine. I was getting used to the silence.” Janus sighed.

“…Who’s rat bastard?” Roman asked.

“Friend of ours.” Virgil replied, “You’ll meet him in a bit. He’s a rat bastard. Smells vaguely of cheese.”

“…Attractive.”

“You get used to it.” Janus shrugged. He then smirked at Roman like he got an idea. “Would you like to see my snake?”

Roman’s eyes lit up. “Yes!”

Janus led them all upstairs to his bedroom, Roman following last in the line so he could keep Janus’ door cracked open. As he stepped inside, he noticed a very large cage on the wall to his right. It was very long with lots of wood decorations spread across the container, with a fluorescent lightbulb above it. Roman looked around in the enclosure to try and spot the snake.

Before he could find it, Janus opened the top and stuck his hand in the cage. The snake climbed up his hand onto his arm, and as Janus stuck him out for Roman to see, Roman jumped back.

Janus rolled his eyes. “He’s a corn snake, he’s not known for hurting people.”

Roman still looked at it from a distance. The snake was large enough that Janus had to hold him with both hands, as well as being a mesmerizing yellow color. Roman never had a friend with a pet snake before. “…What’s his name?”

“Lawrence.”

“Nerd.” Virgil called out.

Logan smiled. “I think it is a wonderful name. Lawrence Kohlberg developed the theory on moral development, the very basis for ethical behavior.”

“Nerds.”

“You’re very mature, Virgil.”

Roman ignored them. “I think he’s cool. How old is he?”

“About five. I’ve had him for a while now.”

A buzz came from Virgil’s phone, making him check it and read the message. “Rat bastard says he’s outside your door.” He announced.

Janus didn’t seem rushed. “He can get in on his own.”

Roman laughed, and Janus set Lawrence back in his enclosure so he could bask underneath the heat lamp. Roman still watched his movements from inside the cage. “I wish I had a pet.”

“Patton would get you a dog in seconds if you asked.” Logan suggested.

Roman shook his head. “It’s fine, I won’t ask.” He didn’t really know what kind of pet he even wanted, and besides, it’s not like he’d be able to keep it once he leaves Patton’s house. There was no point.

Suddenly, a loud stomping came from the stairs outside Janus’ bedroom. Roman yelped and ran to hide behind Janus in the corner of the room, but the others didn’t react.

Roman sputtered. “What the-”

Before Roman could finish, a large bang came as someone kicked open the door and let it smack into the wall.

“I’m back by unpopular demand!”

“Hello, Remus.”

Roman completely froze up at the sound of that name. He turned around to look at the person that just busted down Janus’ bedroom door, a kid with messy hair and peach fuzz for a mustache, ripped jeans in the summer with a cast boot on his right foot.

Roman felt himself choke on air as he processed what was in front of him.

“Slugs are goopy like jello! So jello is made of slugs, duh!”

“Remus, that’s gross! No one would make food out of slugs!”

“What’s up, fuckers!” Remus announced. “I’m back from the pits of hell! Also known as the emergency room.”

Roman didn’t say anything, only stared at him in disbelief. Remus’ voice was a lot different now. He’d hit puberty, so the pitch had dropped a lot from what Roman was used to. A tuft of his hair was white, also. Roman couldn’t tell if it was dye or a condition.

That piece of hair and Remus’ mustache were the only things that made them both look apart now.

“What actually happened?” Logan asked. “You never told us specifics.”

“I broke my foot sucking too much-”

“Remus.” Janus warned.

“Fine, fine. I tripped trying to run up some steps and my fall didn’t look badass at all. Don’t tell people that though. If anyone asks, I broke it running from the cops.”

Janus nodded and smirked. “Noted.”

“We brought a third foster brother, also.” Virgil noted. Roman stopped breathing.

“Oh, really? Shit, I fuckin missed everything!” Roman looked in the corner trying to avoid Remus noticing him, but it was never that easy. “Why hello, welcome to our humble- …Oh, fuck.”

Remus tilted his head to make eye contact with Roman, and the surprise on Remus’ face was something Roman would never forget. He seemed genuinely baffled, like nothing in the world would have prepared him for what he saw. Roman wanted to cry.

I wanted to leave behind these people.

“…Roman?” Remus finally said, “Dude, holy fuck, I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“Wait,” Virgil staggered, “You know each other already?”

“He’s my fucking cousin!” Remus exclaimed. “Come on, look at us, we’re only a little related but we look like twins!”

Logan turned to Roman. “Is this true?”

Roman could feel the tears ready to burst. His throat was scratchy, but he tried to talk anyway. “…I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Come on, Princey, don’t be shy!” Remus teased. “We used to be best friends, let everyone believe we were twins until our moms called our shit out. Absolute bastard children- …wait. Wait a fucking second.”

“What is it?” Janus asked.

Remus turned to Virgil and Logan with a shocked and confused face. “…You said he’s your foster brother?”

Logan nodded. “That is correct.”

Remus turned to Roman, seemingly at a loss for words. “…Dude, the fuck? What happened?”

Roman looked at the floor, gripping onto his arm so hard it’d be a miracle if there weren’t marks later. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I mean, I know I haven’t seen you since your mom fucked off to Neverland, but what happened to your dad? He’s still alive and shit isn’t he? The hell happened?”

“I said I don’t want to fucking talk about it!” Roman seethed, grinding his teeth together as he practically growled out that sentence.

Virgil flinched violently. “Roman-”

“Whatever!” Roman pushed Remus off to the side and kicked the door fully open, storming his way down the stairs despite the sounds of people yelling for him to come back. Roman stomped out the front door and took a sprint for it down the block, not caring if he had to be alone with Patton, so long as he wasn’t here.

“I bet you would eat a slug!”

“No I wouldn’t! Liar!”

“Boys, boys!” Roman’s mother laughed, crouching down to meet their eye level from their place sitting in the grass. “No eating slugs. Be nice to the bugs or we’ll go back inside.”

“Yeah, Remus!”

Remus huffed. “I’m not doing anything!”

“Not yet!”

Roman’s mother laughed again. “I’m going to help Uncle André with dinner. But I better not hear a fight, okay?”

“Okay!” Roman promised, watching as his mom went back inside his uncle’s house into the kitchen. Roman and Remus continued to play in the grass by looking at bugs and telling stories to each other, making Roman smile more than he has in a long time. He always loved going to Remus’ house. His dad never came with them, so he and his mom were always happier.

“How come we never go to your house?” Remus eventually asked after a few minutes of playing. Roman stuck his tongue out.

“‘Cause our house is tiny and the backyard isn’t as cool.”

“Still! When you come over, you never bring Uncle Theo!”

“Good!” Roman defended, “Dad’s boring so he doesn't getta come!”

“I like him! He’s fun and nice and always brings chocolate!”

“He’s awful!” Roman covered his mouth after he blurted that out. Remus gave him a look.

“He’s not awful!”

Roman looked over to the glass sliding door. His mom was in there, he could see her, but she couldn’t hear him. Maybe he could get away with it. He could tell Remus a secret and his mom would never find out.

Roman hesitantly took his hands away from his mouth. His tone grew to be a lot softer. “…He is, though.”

Remus tilted his head to the side like a dog. “What makes him awful?”

“…Promise not to tell anyone?”

Remus leaned in closer. “Uh huh!”

“No one at all, ever?”

“Triple quadruple promise!”

Roman looked back at his mom. She wasn’t paying attention to him, seemingly talking to his uncle and pouring juice into cups. Roman hesitated for a moment. “…My dad-”

“Boys! Dinner’s ready!” Roman’s mom called out, making Roman jump almost a foot in the air. Both of them got off of the grass to walk inside, but before they did, Remus turned to Roman again.

“Your dad what?”

“…Nevermind.” He missed his chance. Remus would never find out, and Roman never told anyone for another five years.

Roman ran faster down the street at the memory, fighting back the tears in his eyes. It was fine. Roman was fine.

He never wanted to talk to Remus again.

#roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #thomas sanders #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan #ts virgil #ts remus #ts janus #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #foster au #implied past abuse #past abuse #stealing

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chocominnie · 3 years

Text

Wasted Times- Pjm.

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Warnings: A lot of Fluff, Angry Sex, Slight BDSM, Dom!Jimin, Jealous Reader, Fuckboy!Jimin, oral sex, Penatration, Foot Job?, kissing, spankings, seriously lots of jealousy and tension, use of the word ‘’whore’’, exhibitionism, cum in pants

Word count: 5.8k

Authors Note: So this is a draft of mine from way long ago. It was also posted on another account I used to be apart of, but no longer am. It’s an oldie but goodie.

Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken.

Summary: Two weeks, five days and counting since you’ve last seen him. Two weeks since that sinful body was tangled in yours, where you both let out strings of moans and shared sloppy wet kisses. Two weeks.

If it wasn’t for Hoseok that whole night wouldn’t have happened. Despite you already knowing of Jimin, what you didn’t know is that looks can deceive. Oh yes, they deceived you very well. When you met him it felt like it was unreal? It felt as though you were talking to an angel. The butterflies in your stomach whenever he spoke made you feel the blood rush to your cheeks. So unreal.

A cute cheeky smile and a squeaky laugh. Someone’s who’s kind hearted, as what you previously had heard from Hoseok himself. Oh, but did he leave the major detail out from you.

He’s a fuckboy.

One that knows exactly how to play his cards right. Knows how to get into a girl's pants and make them melt with the sweet and dirty things that pout out his mouth like honey. He has the looks and charms for it. The hand he runs through his hair constantly, those pink full lips begging to be touched by someone else.

You’ve only recently found out about most of the girls he’s slept with. It wasn’t a lot but enough for him to qualify to get tested every month. All because he can’t keep his god damn dick in his pants. And you, the fool, fell for it. You fell for his ways.

Yet he pretends to know nothing. He pretends like he didn’t break your heart by saying he can’t commit to a relationship. He was just a one night stand. He fucking acts that nothing happened between you two prior to having sex.... and it hurts.

Now you’re sitting in your office stuck in-between whether to let that night go, or to bring it up with him. Because surely, he felt something too when you guys made love for an hour and a half right? Right?

‘‘Y/N. Did you hear me?’ ‘

You quickly snap back to reality to the nagging voice beside you. Taking a sip of your peppermint tea, you turn towards the young girl. Her full bangs compliment her perfectly shaped face. Her long, straight hair that curls at the end a bit is jet black with no sign of split ends or damage. She holds a blue folder tightly to her chest with a cheeky smile upon her face.

‘‘Mrs. Jane would like to see your work for this month’s upcoming project. Do you have the rough draft done?’ ‘

You nod, ‘’ I’ve finished it already. Are you collecting?’’ The girl nods her head and holds out her dainty pale hand. Next to you is your documents drawer which you rummage through for a good minute or so before finding your pink folder with all the information and sketches.

‘‘Thanks..’‘ She smiles, then walks away to her next prey. You let out a big sigh and place your hands in-between your head. Never have you had someone constantly be on your mind.

It was killing you.

‘‘ Child are you okay?’‘

You turn towards the voice to your left which sits next to you is your best-friend. Her smirk lets you know she knows what you’re thinking about. She knows. She also knows about that one night stand that you couldn’t shut up about two weeks ago.

You try to hold back your laugh, ‘’ I’m. fine.’’ You manage to choke out. She shakes her head again with that damned smirk on her face. ‘’ Was he that good that he has you sitting here contemplating life honey?’’

Your eyes go eyes go wide and soon enough you find yourself swatting her thigh while trying to cover your face of embarrassment. ‘’ Stop! Geez I shouldn’t have even told you about it.’’

‘‘ I knew about him before you even did. Once you told me after the fact, I automatically recognized who he was by the way you described his features so well.’‘ She shrugs, swiveling her chair around to face you. You do the same.

‘‘ What?’‘

‘‘ I went to high school with him. Park Jimin right? He was a ladies girl. Everyone wanted him. Plus he was a former dancer.’‘

Former dancer? It all makes sense. The way his body was nicely toned, not to muscly but noticeable. The way his hips moved every which way making sure his sinful area poked and pried at every nerve inside your walls. Made you let out strings of moans and whimpers because of how good he felt inside you. You’ve never felt something like that before. How dare he.

‘’ Well he has a cute friend. His name is Tae... Tae something. I don’t know but they were also friends in highschool. He was a handsome boy as well. If you would like to you know... tap that.’‘ She giggles.

Who does she think you are? Some type of person who gives away sex for a living? Definitely not. By the looks of your face she quickly abandons the subject. You decide it’s best to get back on task before your whore of a boss comes back around.

Only before that petite girl, with the bangs and perfectly trimmed straight hair, comes back with your folder and a ton of papers for you. As if this this day could get any worse.

‘‘ No I don’t want to go tonight.’’

It feels like you’ve said this on the phone more than ten times. You’re sure of it. He just doesn’t want to give up. You’d rather be in the comfort of your home cuddled up in a blanket watching Netflix all day. After-all, it is a Friday night and it has been a very stressful week for you in the office. A nice hot bath and a binge worthy tv show is all you want right now. It’s what you deserve.

‘‘ Come with us it’ll be fun. You can invite your hot best friend too.’‘ He says, and you know he’s smirking on the other line. ‘‘ Hoseok for one, you will not hook up with my best friend understand? Two, i’m tired. I want to sleep.’‘

‘‘ Oh come on Y/N it’ll be fun. It’s just a night out on the strip. It’ll be fun. I’m bringing Jimin.’‘ He tapers off at the end to wait for your reaction.

Could this be it? Another chance to see Jimin. Your chance to ask him.. if that night he felt something. Surely he did right?

‘‘ I’ll come. But that doesn’t mean i’m coming for Jimin. I’m bringing Scar with me as well.’‘

A few seconds of silence fills the other line. Which you know that Hoseok probably muted himself to scream in success. You take this time to think about what you’re going to wear. Something that’s eye catching? Or something that’s casual yet classy since it is just hanging around downtown. Why not do both?

Hoseok come’s back to the line and you notice he’s more cheerful. It makes you smile to yourself, how cute. ‘‘ Be there in 45 minutes. We’ll be waiting by Krystal okay? Meet us out front of that place.’‘

You two say your goodbyes and hang up the phone. Anticipation runs deep through you lacing your blood with it. Just the thought of seeing him again rubs you the right way.

Going into your closet, you take a good look at it and decide on a casual yet classy outfit. One that will surely catch his attention but very presentable as well. You hope that it’s going to pull through. Taking out your phone, you send a text message to Scarlet telling her all the details and to meet you here.

‘’This will be one hell of a night.’’ You smirk to yourself as you pull out the accessories to your outfit.

It wasn’t until you heard the doorbell constantly ring that broke you out of your trance of admiring yourself in the mirror. You look ravishing. Delectable. Every thing in the book. Surely you must have been admiring for quite some time because twenty minutes had passed and you didn’t even know it.

The doorbell ringing comes to a halt once you open the door forcefully. Scarlet greets you with a smile and a hug before coming inside.

‘’ Okay does this make my ass look bigger than it already is?’’

You glance over at Scarlet who’s posing in-front of the hallway mirror, earning a small chuckle from you. ‘’ Yes, that dress always look’s good on you.’’

Scarlet grins at you, ‘’ Thanks. I try I try. You look sexy Y/N. Who’s getting it tonight? ’’

You giggle once more before adjusting your black dress ‘’ You look so good Y/N i’m not lying. Did you put some make-up on?’’

You shyly nod your head yes, ‘’ Just a little. Not one of my dramatic looks.’’

‘‘ It suits the mood for tonight. Nothing to dramatic, more neutral.’‘ Scarlet says, picking up her purse again. ‘’ The dress does bring out your curves.’‘ She steps back and pulls out her phone for a snapchat picture.

The two of you pose in the mirror for a quick second then giggle afterwards. Scarlet brings her phone back down as her fingers begin to type at a rapid speed. ‘I’m going to caption it; Going out with my babe!’’

You on the other hand were to busy into the hearts snapchat filter with Scar in the background of your video. You tap her with a smile and she looks up with a smile as well. ‘’ We are so gonna be late Scar. ’’

‘‘ Okay. Let me just grab my purse and we can go.’‘

You can’t believe you’re actually doing this. The cool breeze is enough for you to handle. Not to cold and not to hot of a breeze. Downtown is busy tonight, especially the strip. The neon signs blare into your vision, the cars speed past with drunk laughing people. Music plays coming from each store or bar you two pass. There’s a jazz man who’s playing some cool tunes next to the giant water fountain. You drop a ten dollar bill into his case hoping to brighten those tunes up a bit. Couples are everywhere you look. You haven’t been downtown in such a long time. Everything feels so brand new to you. It’s so lively.

Scarlet walks confidently in-front of you, hips swaying naturally. You see Hoseok down the sidewalk waiting at the entrance for your arrival. Behind him is Jimin who looks fine tonight. He wears a long sleeve white Stussy t-shirt with black distressed jeans that show off his thighs. The same thighs that flexed with each thrust two weeks ago. The same thighs you wanted to ride because they had you soaking wet. Oh geez.

‘‘ Y/N! ahhh you look so good tonight!’‘ Hoseok grabs your hand and twirls you around a little. ‘‘ You’re right. Wow Y/N.’‘ A voice comes from behind him.

Part of you just wants to melt right into his arms right then and there. Keep it together.

‘‘ You don’t look bad yourself Jimin.’‘ It’s like your eyes refused to make eye contact with him. You want to, but can’t pull yourself to do it. ‘‘ And this is my best friend Scarlet.’‘

‘‘ Hello I’m Scarlet or Scar for short. Nice to meet you.’‘ She smiles, Jimin takes her hand and gives it a kiss. His eyes never leaves hers when he does so.

Scarlet lets out one of her nervous giggles as he lets her hand go. ‘’ How sweet.’’ Jimin smirks at her, ‘’ No worries. I’m Jimin, Park Jimin my love.’’

You almost choke at those last two words. My love? Seriously?

‘‘ Okay enough now that you’ve met my flirty friend who doesn’t know boundaries...’‘ Hoseok glares at him, earning a shrug from Jimin. ‘‘ .. I’m Hoseok. I’ve seen you on Y/N’s social media.. and I must say you are very pretty.’‘

‘‘ Thank you Hoseok. You are handsome as well.’’ She says.

You decide to end this introduction and start off the night. ‘‘ Alright enough of the talking. Can we have some fun tonight?’‘

‘‘ I agree, let’s get some drinks first.’‘

Only one hour in and you’ve only had one long island ice tea that you haven’t even finished yet. Somehow you’ve got tricked into third wheeling. Hoseok and Scarlet seem to be hitting it off very well walking in front of you. But walking next to you is a quite Jimin. He’s to busy scrolling and typing on social media for him to even notice you. Oh so you thought.

‘‘ Y/N...’‘

The butterflies in your stomach begin. What could he want? ‘’ Hmm.’’

Jimin locks his phone and places it in his pocket. He then looks at you with that oh so familiar warm smile. ‘’ They seem to be hitting it off well yeah?’’

Oh. ‘’ Yeah. I ship it.’’ You giggle, crossing your arms.’’ How have you been? Haven’t seen your pretty self in weeks.’’

‘‘ I’m fine. You know, work and stuff.’‘

‘‘ Yes I can say the same. I’ve got some things going on as well.’‘ His eyes shift back towards the busy city. ‘‘ I’d be lying if I didn’t say I missed you.’‘

You stop dead in your tracks. He missed you? All this time you had thought he didn’t care but he does? ‘’ Missed me huh. Or did you miss the idea of me.’’

He smiles, ‘’ Can it be both?’’

You decide to let that comment slide. ‘’ Well Jimin. I missed you too.’’

‘‘ Great so I can do this.’‘

You’re caught off guard by his lips connecting with yours. Both of you move in sync with each other. Jimin open’s his mouth more so his tongue can move more freely inside of yours. Both of your tongues fight for dominance making you moan inside the kiss. His hands cup your face, sending chills up your spine. Soon you find yourself whimpering for more, but you can’t let it go this far so you break away first.

‘‘ Hmm I missed those lips on mine. Sorry if I spooked you my love.’‘ Those dark brown eyes look deep into yours. ‘‘ I missed us talking constantly before we..’‘ He trails off, looking away from you smiling shyly.

‘‘ Yeah me too. We spent a lot of time texting and calling each other before that. But after that night we sort of.. stopped? I’ve been meaning to bring this up without it being awkward.’‘ You bite your lip, fiddling with your fingers.

Jimin looks around you guys. Scarlet and Hoseok are nowhere to be found. As he expected. ‘’ Well it looks like our friends ditched us. Have you eaten?’’

‘‘ I munched on something before I came here with you guys.’‘ You say, eyes shifting towards the city again. ‘‘ Well if you’re up for a little bit more of a walk I know this good place on the boardwalk. We are getting closer and closer to the beach.’‘

‘‘ Is this you asking me on a date Park Jimin?’‘ You giggle, covering your mouth with your hand. ‘‘ It can be considered our first friendly date. I would love to take you out some other time where it’s not last minute my love.’‘

‘‘ Stop saying that.’‘

‘‘ Saying what?’‘

You roll your eyes playfully, ‘’ My love. Stop saying it.’’

Jimin raises his eyebrows at you in amusement, ‘’ Did you just roll your eye at me.. my love?’’ Your cheeks have never hurt this much before from constantly smiling, but tonight you just cant stop them. ‘’ And if I did?’’

‘‘ I suggest you don’t do that again.’‘

The walk wasn’t as far as you thought. Jimin had linked his hand in yours on the way there. It surprised you for a minute but you let it happen. He hasn’t let go since. The two of you are sat down at a table outside by a waitress who cannot keep her eyes away from Jimin. Only if she knew how much of a sex god he was. Then she really wouldn’t be able to keep her eyes away.

‘‘ The moon looks beautiful tonight.’‘ He nods his head over towards the sky. Your eyes gaze over the sandy beach and waves that crash onto the shore. The moon lit sky peering over it looks beautiful.

Jimin brings both of your hands onto the table and intertwines them with his. A smile appears on his face when he sees you shyly try to hide your smile from him. Jimin’s most favorite feature of you is your smile, and moans of course, but your smile brings him happiness. It’s something about the way your lips curl up into a smile and your eyes narrow a little bit with it. Or when you laugh at one of his comments or jokes. It makes him happy inside and out.

‘‘ So, what were you saying earlier my love?’‘

You playfully roll your eyes again at that nickname. Before you can roll them again, Jimin’s smile drops and he let’s go of your right hand. You furrow your eyebrows at him for a second until you’re caught off guard with a tiny slap to the inside of your thigh. You hiss at the pain.

He says, ‘‘ Stop rolling your eyes at me. playful or not my love, I don’t like it.’‘

‘‘ Fine but stop calling me that nickname. You said it to Scarlet. Now I don’t want it anymore.’‘ You say, attitude high with your arms crossed.

Jimin chuckles and lets his tongue swipe across the inside of his jaw, ‘’Someone’s jealous.’’

‘’ I just see the name is useless is all if you’re calling other girls that.’‘

‘‘ Hmm jealous now aren’t we?’‘ He smirks, leaning back in his chair. ‘‘ Says the one who was all over me that night. Practically craving me. Now, what If i let someone else do that hmm? Equivalent to you calling other girls that name.’‘

His smirk never lets up. You know you trying to act all tough isn’t going to last. It’s just not in you. But what you can do is make him jealous and tease him for a while. You consider it a payback for those two weeks of hell you went through.

‘‘ I’m enjoying our night out Jimin. Thank you for taking the time to catch up with me tonight.’‘ Your face is innocent as ever, sipping on your water.

His expression changes when your foot travels up his leg and onto his crotch and slowly grazes over the tip of his dick. Jimin glares and bites his lip at the constant friction between the head and your foot going in agonizingly slow circles. He let’s both of your hands go to try and pry your leg away but you increase pressure making him choke out a small wince.

‘‘ Aww. Cute.’‘

Jimin’s head pops up with a death glare on his face, ‘’ Don’t call me that after you just tried to pull some type of stun-’’

Your foot begins it’s slow circles again. It’s fun watching him stop his sentences. The way he holds in his moans and bites his lip. It turns you on very much.

“Fuck,” He grunts, eye’s closed.

You stop once your food arrives. The same waitress that can’t keep her eyes off of Jimin. She makes eye contact with her, and he winks as she places the food in-front of him. Your face drops into a stone cold expression. Once the waitress leaves his head slowly turns towards you with his famous sly smirk. He knew just how to press your buttons.

You start back up again, going at an even faster pace at this point. He curses at himself and his eyes close again. You smile when he starts to shake his legs and breathe heavily. Only for Jimin’s eyes pop open with a devilish smile that confuses you. He grabs your leg and makes sure that your foot is positioned right ontop of his dick. He rolls his hips to the movement of yours, looking you dead straight in the eyes. You go along with it for now. But your eyes almost buck out of your head when he starts letting out moans and grunts as he throws his head back.

‘‘ Mmm fuck Y/N you do this so well.’‘

You’re at loss for words. The risk of being caught mixed with the sight you’re seeing now has your panties becoming wet.It takes all your might not to just jump over the table and devour him when he sighs in relief. You watch his body convulse of the aftershocks. So fucking sexy.

And as if nothing had just happened, he picks up his fork and begins to eat his pasta. The rest of the night is silent. You both eat in silence but in the inside you want to say something but you know better. The stunt you just pulled has something coming for you. Maybe payback wasn’t such a good thing after all.

After Jimin comes back from the restroom, assuming he cleaned himself up well down there, he sits back down at the table with a warm smile. It confuses you.

‘‘ Do you want to leave now? We can go to my place and just chill for the night. Looks like the two love birds might have already went back to one of their place’s.’‘ He says, grabbing your hand once again.

You nod your head dumbfounded at what you didn’t know that was going to happen at his place. But you agree to go. What can go wrong?

The moment you guys enter his luxurious apartment, he pins you against the wall and raises your hands above you head. He tilts your head and nips at your neck, alternating between kissing and sucking. He hit one of your sweet spots that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

‘‘ Please Jimin.’‘ You cry out. Slowly pulling away, he pulls you from against the wall and bends to dip an arm under your legs to lift you up bridal style.

He deeply chuckles into your ear, ‘‘ You have an eventful night planned out for pulling that stunt at the restaurant sweetheart.’‘ His words sends shivers down your spine.

Jimin closes the door behind him, giving you a taste of comfort before he has his way with you. He places you on his bed and you stare into those dark brown eyes that you love oh so much.

‘‘ Face down, ass up now.’‘ He growls.

You nod your head and do as told. Soon you feel your dress being unzipped and thrown to the floor. You’re in nothing but your bra and baby pink lace thong. His hands run up and down your spine, then to your ass.

‘‘ You ruined my pants today. Made me cum inside them since you wanted to feel like you had control over me.. babygirl.’‘ He says, hands stopping right above your ass.

‘‘ Count for me Y/N.’‘

You don’t even have time to take a breath in when the first hard impact comes. It wells tears in your eyes but you love it. You love every smack and every second of it. And so you count for him, you count all fifteen hits to your sore,red ass.

‘‘ You’ve taken your punishment well.’‘ Jimin says soothing the pain by rubbing over it softly. ‘‘ You looked so pretty doing what you’re told my beautiful girl. You deserve every inch of me. You deserve all of me.’’ His voice is soft and low. It intoxicates you.

Jimin shifts you onto your back, his hands tracing every inch of your body. You prop yourself up with your shoulders and you don’t jerk away, instead you let him lean in and kiss you passionately. The lewd sounds of the two of you sharing a wet, sloppy kiss can be heard throughout the apartment. You whine in his arms wanting more than just the kiss. He growls in return, yanking your head back to mark up that pretty neck some more. His hands swiftly makes their way towards your nipples, you moan out in response.

“mmm so cute and hard for me.” He flicks your hard nipples with his index and middle fingers on both your breasts. The way he speaks is sinful. Your panties grow even more wet as he pinches your nipples to make you whimper. “ Making pretty sounds for me hmm? Got you all wet baby?’’

With his hands dropping to your hips, he pushes you to lay down on the bed. Your breasts look so captivating to him. Your back arches when his lips connect to your right breast and soon to your left.

“Jimin...’’ You whimper, tugging on his hair to get him to look at you. He pauses the swirling of his tongue on your breast and looks up with lust filled eyes.

“ Yes sweetheart?” He coos.

‘’Off... t-take it off.’’ You whine, moving your hands towards his clothing and tugging on it firmly.

Jimin smiles before balancing on his knees to lift off his shirt. You watch him strip his shirt off, revealing his beautifully toned stomach and sharp v-line. You want nothing more than to run your tongue across him, leaving hickies behind.

Once he takes off his shirt, he dips back down to you to kiss your lips once more. ‘’ Your reaction was instantaneous, your back arching as your hands flew to his hair in shock at the pleasure it gave you. You really were sexually frustrated. Just him kissing you was all too much for you to handle.

As if he could tell what you wanted, his hand found its way to the hem of your lace thong. He feels how wet you were with his index finger sliding up and down your entrance. Your breath hitched as he slid them off with his teeth.

Your mouth instantly falls open when one thick finger slides inside you, your wetness pouring out beneath his finger. Once his finger is coated in your juices, he pulls out of you leaving you whimpering at the loss of friction. You watch him slide his wet finger into his mouth, his eyes close as he hums around it.

“You taste so fucking good. Let me have more of you yeah? He says, waiting for some type of consent from you.

You nod, wanting him more than ever.

Jimin props both your legs up onto his shoulder, licking his lips at the sight of your glistening core. You are left exposed to his lustful gaze as he took in the appearance of your swollen lips. Your lips spread apart to expose your clit that desperately seeks attention.

And so he provides it. His head dips down to get to work on your cunt. The pleasure you feel is outrageous, it has you clawing at his back, not even letting up, before letting out your never ending moans. You knew for a fact that Jimin’s tongue was a work of art when put to the test.

“Oh fuck! ” You yell out, arching your back when his lips begin to suck harshly on your clit, that bubbly feeling in your stomach appears.

“Do I make you feel good ? Hmm, use your words.” He encourages, using two fingers to spread your folds apart to lick and suck on your clit.

“It feels so good Jimin, oh my gosh, please don’t stop. Fuck!” You cry out, tossing your head back as you clutch onto the sheets once more, leaving his hair alone. As soon as he hears that, he seemed to lose control. His fingers start abuse your g-spot in sync with his sucking on your clit. That’s all you took for you to explode around his fingers. Your body spasms when you close your eyes. You can practically hear your heartbeat pounding in your head.

That doesn’t stop Jimin though. He continues to abuse your hole but you can’t handle the over-stimulation. You grip his wrists to stop him in which he obliges. He pulls his fingers out of you slowly and shows you them before sucking on them harshly.

“ Such a naughty girl now aren’t we.” He coos, rubbing your thighs that shake endlessly. “Want more princess?”

You nod your head, to busy lost in a trance. His words always get to you. A boy who knows his way with his words. The things that come out his mouth laced with either sweet venom or sugar. Damn him. Damn him for making you feel like this. Damn him for letting you fall under his ways.

You don’t realize all of his clothes were off until the head of his cock is sitting at your entrance. He’s a nice size, as you remember, but it’s the thickness that gets you. He has a lot of girth and it damn sure stretches you out.

“Shit, oh my gosh.” You moan, letting your head fall back as he starts easing into you.

“ Mmm babygirl,” He growls, using one of his hands to spread your lips, giving him the bes view of you taking him all the way. “Fuck just look at that baby. Your little pussy stretching to take my thick cock. Feels good yeah?”

“ Yes Jimin, fuck, it feels so good please. ” You whimper, wanting to feel all stuffed and full. Finally he bottoms out and you definitely feel it in you.

Jimin’s hands grip your hips as he starts to move inside of you. Since your previous orgasm residue was still there, mixing with your fresh juices, every time moved in and out your juices would drip.Lewd, wet slaps filled the room as the pace quickened, wanting to get you to cum again.

Your cries of pleasure filled the room. There was no point in hiding them now. With his hips moving at a fast pace, and his dick murdering your g-spot, it makes you feel that familiar feeling again.

“My good girl, you’re doing so well for me.” Jimin smiles, praising you as you become undone around him. Your hole spasms around his length and it feels like heaven for him. Jimin holds himself up on his elbows, resting his face against yours while he gently eases you through your orgasm.

“You don’t know the things your body does to me Y/N. The faces you make when i’m fucking your brains out. You look like you’re in pure ecstasy because of me and only me, baby.” He whispers, his lips hovering just above yours. You nod and press your lips against his. Smiling into the kiss, his hips begin fucking you again, getting up to his previous pace.

Your body is automatically put into over-stimulation mode. “Are you going to cum again for me?”

“Mhm, oh my god!” You whimper, closing your eyes shut harshly. Jimin pulls out of you, and starts to slide his cock up and down your folds to bring you to another orgasm. You let out a scream as Jimin watch your juices fly and soak everywhere around you both. Your death grip on the sheets havent left and your back is arched so high from the bed that he has to bring you back down.

“Fuck, that’s it. You’re squirting princess.” He praises you, smiling as he doesn’t stop movement, juices everywhere. “You’re squirting so much baby look at you.’’

The feeling is too much for you so you shut your legs around him. Jimin smiles at you when you finally open your eyes. They hardly stay open but long enough for you to see him get himself off using his right hand. You open your mouth to say something, but he interrupts “Shh princess, you’re too sensitive. Maybe next time.”

You nodded with a small pout on your lips. You want him to cum inside you. To feel his hot sperm coat your insides. Your body says otherwise. You are spent, exhausted to the max..

Just as he is about to cum, you sit up and climb over to him. Your mouth quickly finds it’s way to his length and as if a habit, you begin to suck. ‘’You don’t have to princes- fuck.’’ He groans, releasing his load inside your mouth while you deep throat all his length.

Soon you pull away from his cock after he cums. You open your mouth to show him and then swallow it all down. ‘’ Filthy whore.’’ He smirks, pecking your lips.

Jimin kisses your forehead once more, before lifting up and disappearing into the bathroom. He returns with a warm, wet towel to clean up the mess between your legs. Your eyes flutter open and close. You catch a glimpse of his nicely toned back when he turns to disregard the towel. He comes back again with a green t-shirt which makes your heart flutter as he pulls it over your head. Another forehead kiss, then those nose, then the lips.

‘’ Jimin?’‘ You coo.

He climbs in bed beside you, ‘’ Yes?’’

‘’ We never discussed what we are...’’ You say quietly, picking at your fingers.

He laughs softly, ‘’ You know I can’t commit right now. I have too many things going on and-’’

‘’ Excuses Jimin.’’ You pout, turning away from him. ‘’ Aww come on don’t be like that. Listen, if I ever get my life together and the ladies off of me you’ll be the first one I run to, my love.’’

‘’ Promise?’’

‘’ I promise.’’

Oh so you had thought. Another two weeks had passed and the same thing happened. Now you’re stuck in your office again contemplating life, as Scarlet would say. The only difference is, he texts you more often. Usually good morning and goodnight texts. An occasional ‘how was your day.’

You can’t help but to wonder what he’s probably doing with other girls. Feeding them empty promises. Saying sweet nothings in their ears. Letting them hear what they want to. It’s no doubt he knows what he’s doing. No doubt.

Only if he hadn’t wasted your time.

Two weeks and counting since you’ve last seen him. Two weeks since that sinful body was tangled in yours, where you both let out strings of moans and shared sloppy wet kisses. Two weeks.

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buckybarnesdollface · 3 years

Text

First One Loses

Summary: Bucky and Reader have to make everything a competition, to the point where it drives the rest of the team nuts. But can their competitiveness lead to something more than the sexual tension between two frenemies?

Warnings: Smut, Female reader

“Ha! I win!” I exclaimed, jumping up from the couch excitedly as the Penguins scored the winning goal against the Rangers in overtime. The scowl on Bucky’s face was dark, and the others rolled their eyes. I grinned as I held out my hand to Bucky. “C’mon, Barnes, pay up. My team beat yours, you owe me.”

“I hate you,” he grumbled as he dropped a crumpled twenty-dollar bill into my palm. I stuck my tongue out at him as I pocketed it, and his glare intensified.

“Do you two have to make everything into a competition?” Steve sighed.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “We can’t enjoy anything anymore without you two turning it into a game that turns into a fight. We’re just gonna start excluding you from things.”

I shrugged. “Maybe if Barnes wasn’t such a sore loser…” I pointed out, and Bucky shot up from his armchair.

“You know what, (Y/N) –” he started, but Steve hopped up and placed himself between us before it could escalate.

“Enough!” he ordered, using his authoritative Captain America voice. “Now, we were going to watch a movie, but if you two can’t grow up long enough to do that then you can find somewhere else to act like children.”

Bucky scowled. “I can behave, it’s her you should be concerned about,” he muttered, and I rolled my eyes.

“Oh, shut it, Barnes,” I snapped, and then I turned to Steve with a sugary-sweet smile on my face. “We’ll be on our best behaviour, Stevie, I promise. I’m just gonna go grab some snacks and drinks while you boys pick out a movie.”

With one last smile I headed out to the kitchen. I had just emptied a bag of tortilla chips into a bowl when Bucky stalked into the kitchen, blue eyes narrowed into slits.

“Next game, fifty bucks,” he snapped, and I snorted.

“Oh, honey, when are you gonna learn that your team never beats mine?” I taunted as I pulled a jar of salsa out of the cupboard. “If you want to win at something, maybe pick a different game.”

“I’ve beat you at plenty of things,” Bucky shot back. “For instance, you’d never win in a one-on-one with me.”

“The hell I wouldn’t!” I cried. “I’d kick your ass, old man.”

“In what universe, doll? The only reason I’m not proving I could beat you is because maybe I’d feel slightly guilty if I hurt you.”

I barked out a laugh. “The only reason I’m not proving to you that I’d win is because I don’t want to embarrass you in front of the guys. Imagine how it would look if the Winter Soldier got his ass handed to him by a girl.”

“Don’t call me that,” Bucky snarled, eyes dark as he fixed them on me intensely. I bit my lip, meeting his eyes with a challenging gaze.

“Or what…James?”

What happened next happened in a blur. Suddenly, Bucky’s vibranium hand was around my throat as his large body trapped me against the counter. His grip was neither tight enough to cut off my air supply nor leave bruises, but it was enough to remind me that he could very easily crush my windpipe if he wanted to. For a split second I was paralyzed, afraid that maybe I had finally pushed him too far. Ever since we’d met our relationship had consisted of trying to best each other at almost everything while getting under each other’s skin, but it had never resulted in anything more than banter. But now, as my breaths quickened and my heart hammered against my ribcage, I feared I’d crossed a line.

So when Bucky’s lips crashed against mine, my eyes widened in shock. He tasted of iced tea and his hand on my throat was cool, and it took a moment before I could gather my senses enough to shove him away from me. He released his grip on my throat but didn’t step back, his body still dangerously close to mine.

“Barnes, wh-what are you doing?” I stuttered. His eyes were still intense as they continued to hold mine.

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)? Did you think I was actually going to hurt you?”

“Of course not,” I scoffed, but Bucky shook his head with a smirk.

“I could feel your pulse, doll; your heart rate spiked,” he murmured. “So either you were scared, or you’re a lot filthier than everyone thinks you are. Which one is it?”

Bucky’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t do something to me. I shouldn’t have even entertained the thought; I should have pushed past him and taken the snacks to the common room so we could watch the movie with Steve and Sam. But ever since I’d met Bucky there had been unresolved sexual tension between us, and my curiosity to see how he planned to resolve it outweighed my ability to make good decisions.

“You don’t scare me, Barnes,” I said defiantly, and with a grin Bucky’s lips were back on mine. His hands found my hips as mine clenched at the front of his black t-shirt, backing me up against the counter, and when my teeth grazed his bottom lip he growled into my mouth.

“I had a feeling you were the type of girl to like it rough,” he breathed, hands on my hips tightening. I tugged at his shirt to pull him closer to me.

“Are you telling me you’ve given this some thought, Barnes?” I taunted. His lips were hot on my throat as I spoke. “Do you think about me at night while you’re lying in bed and can’t sleep?”

“You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it, (Y/N),” Bucky replied as he nipped playfully at the shell of my ear. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

“Oh, you mean the disgust?”

Bucky laughed. “You can use sass to deflect all you want, doll; doesn’t change the fact that you’ve thought about this as much as I have.”

He wasn’t wrong. I’d thought about what it would be like more often than I’d like to admit even to myself – Surely with a body like that, it wouldn’t disappoint. I only smiled demurely, though, fingers closing around Bucky’s belt buckle to pull him closer to me.

“A lady never tells,” I murmured. Bucky’s smirk was wicked.

“I don’t see any ladies here.”

I rolled my eyes as my fingers undid his belt buckle and then popped the button of his jeans. “Shut up for once, Barnes,” I growled, “so we can do this before Steve and Sam come looking for us.”

Before I could get my hand in his pants, Bucky was lifting me and sitting me on the cool marble countertop and standing between my legs, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re such a romantic,” he taunted as his hands rubbed up and down my thighs. I huffed.

“Fuck you, Barnes.”

“That’s the plan.”

Then his mouth was back on mine, hands exploring skin under shirts as tongues fought for dominance. When we broke apart to catch our breaths, I grinned mischievously.

“How about we make this interesting,” I suggested, and Bucky cocked a dark eyebrow.

“More interesting than us hooking up in the kitchen where anyone could walk in on us?” he said, fingertips grazing the skin just below the cup of my bra. I suppressed a soft moan and flashed him my brightest smile.

“First one to make a noise loses.”

I watched as Bucky’s eyes went from widening in shock to narrowing as a slow grin spread across his face. “(Y/N)…” he murmured, squeezing my hips playfully. “What will the stakes be, though?”

“If I win,” I said, “you have to do all my paperwork for a month.”

“Deal,” he said, more quickly than I had expected. I arched an eyebrow.

“That easy? Wow,” I said, almost cautiously.

Bucky’s smile was a mile wide. “And if I win,” he murmured, “you go on a date with me.”

I blinked, thinking maybe I had heard him wrong. But his smile never faltered, bordering on smug as he watched what was sure to be an entire rollercoaster of emotions on my face. Finally, I shook my head, confused.

“I’m sorry, did you say a date?” I asked incredulously. “Barnes, are you messing with me?”

“Not at all, doll,” he replied. “If I win, we go out on a date. I get to pick the time and place. Do we have a deal?”

“A date.” My head was still reeling. Bucky’s hands on me had stilled, and although his smile was still playful his eyes were serious. I pursed my lips, unsure of what game he was playing at, but finally I exhaled a sigh and nodded. “Fine. Deal. Game on, but only because I know I’ll win and I won’t have to worry about it.”

Blue eyes sparkling, Bucky captured my lips in another hungry kiss. My hands were back at the waistband of his jeans, fingertips dancing along the skin of his abdomen and as his muscles clenched under my touch I grinned into the kiss. Tugging down his zipper, I slipped my hand into the denim and palmed him through his underwear, delighted with how large and solid he was. I could feel his sharp intake of breath as his lips briefly stilled against mine, but no noise came out and my brows furrowed together in frustration. Hand slipping past the cotton of his boxer briefs, I gripped him in my hand, marvelling briefly at how hot and heavy and velvety-soft yet rock-hard he was, and then gave a few experimental pumps.

Bucky’s breath came out ragged and his hands on my waist tightened in a bruising grip, but still no noise. When I pulled back to meet his eyes, though, he looked absolutely wrecked and I could feel the arousal pooling in my panties. His hands found the waistband of my leggings and tugged lightly, and I lifted my hips so he could slide them and my underwear from my body to be discarded on the floor at his feet. My fingers were still wrapped around his throbbing member, but when Bucky’s flesh hand snaked between my thighs to swipe lightly through my folds, I had to bite down on my bottom lip to keep from moaning, my grip on him tightening involuntarily.

Bucky’s teeth clenched, but then he pulled his hand away from me and I was about to glare at him until I watched him lift his fingers, glistening with my arousal, to his mouth to suck them clean, his eyes holding mine the entire time.

Fuck, if that wasn’t the hottest, most sinful thing I had ever seen before. Unable to wait a second longer, I hooked my legs around Bucky’s waist to pull him closer, my hand guiding his length to my entrance. With sparkling eyes he took over, sliding his member through my slick folds before sliding home in one powerful thrust.

The air was momentarily knocked from my lungs, and my hands gripped Bucky’s arms – one hot flesh and one unyielding metal – to ground myself. He only gave me a few seconds to adjust to his size before he was pulling out and then pushing back in, setting a ruthless pace that had every nerve in my body buzzing with pleasure. I had imagined sex with Bucky would be good, but this – This was on an entirely different level from what I had ever experienced before. I was climbing higher and faster than I’d thought possible, and even though I wanted to be able to drag out this feeling as long as I could, I knew it was only a matter of time before Steve and Sam started getting suspicious.

Bucky’s mouth had been planting sloppy, open-mouthed kisses on my throat, but now his lips had made their way back up to claim mine heatedly. His hands on me were dizzying, bordering on possessive, holding me tight to him as he drove into me with vigor. My legs around him tightened, one hand under his shirt to rake my nails down his back while the other carded through his hair to tug at the ends. It was all tongues and teeth, hot flesh and desperate grasping, and as we climbed higher it felt less like a competition of who could make who cry out first, and more like a need to be as close to each other as humanly possible.

Trying to focus on my original goal, I purposely clenched around Bucky and rolled my hips, but his resolve was iron-strong and the only thing I earned was a particularly hard thrust as his teeth nipped at my jaw. When his vibranium hand snaked down to rub circles on my clit, that was it; I couldn’t stop the low moan that vibrated past my lips. I wanted to be mad at myself for losing our bet, but Bucky’s cock and his hands and lips were playing me like a violin and all I could focus on was how tight the coil in my stomach was.

“Bucky…” I whined, completely succumbing to my defeat, and a growl rumbled in Bucky’s chest as he continued to piston his hips into me.

“Come for me, doll,” he panted, fingers working my clit furiously. He swallowed my moan in a deep kiss and then pulled away, his forehead pressed to mine. “C’mon, (Y/N); you’re close, I can feel it. Come for me, baby girl.”

And just like that, the coil snapped and stars exploded in my eyes. I bit down on Bucky’s shoulder to muffle my cry, and then Bucky’s hips stuttered and he was emptying himself inside me with a quiet groan. For a minute we stayed there, clutching at each other as our breathing slowed, and then Bucky was pulling out of me and I slid off the counter onto unsteady feet.

I coughed, trying to fill the now-awkward silence, and as Bucky handed me my discarded clothes, I mumbled a thanks. As I yanked my leggings back up my legs, I watched Bucky shimmy his hips back into his jeans before buckling his belt. I was waiting for him to say something, but he was being frustratingly silent.

“Steve and Sam are definitely wondering where we are,” he finally said, grabbing some beers from the fridge. “We should get back in there before they ask too many questions.”

“Wait.” I shook my head. “After what just happened, that’s all you have to say?”

“Of course not, doll,” he said, and then he came over and stood so that I was caged between him and the counter. His smile was wicked as he leaned in until his face was centimetres from mine, and I hated the way my body was reacting to being this close to him. “Tomorrow night,” he murmured, hot breath fanning over my face, “wear something pretty for our date.”

With that he pulled away with a wink and turned, heading back to the common room. I glared after him, but it was half-hearted. My stomach was doing flip-flops and I tried to suppress them as I grabbed the chips and salsa and followed Bucky to the common room.

“So what movie did you guys pick?” I asked as I walked in, forcing myself to act as if nothing had happened. I set the chips and salsa on the coffee table and popped a chip into my mouth.

“Top Gun,” Steve replied, and I nodded my approval. I turned to my chair as Sam hit ‘play’ on the remote, but froze when I found Bucky sitting there, grinning up at me like the Cheshire cat.

“Something wrong, doll?” he asked, face smug, and I could feel my neck grow hot.

“You’re in my chair, Barnes.”

His arms swept wide around the room. “There are plenty of seats in here. You can’t claim a chair as yours.”

“Except I always sit there,” I growled, and Bucky shrugged.

“That sounds like a you problem.”

“Fine,” I said, and then I walked over and plopped down into his lap. “If you won’t move, you’ll have to share.”

I could feel Bucky’s muscles tense up beneath me, and Steve and Sam both looked at us with wide eyes. I only adjusted myself in Bucky’s lap, though, making myself more comfortable, and finally Bucky’s arm circled loosely around me as he chuckled.

“I guess I can share,” he teased lightly, and Sam shook his head.

“You two are the worst,” he griped. “Just…keep your hands where we can see them. You’ve already defiled the kitchen; this room is off limits.”

I blanched. “What?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Do you really think we don’t know what was going on out there?” he asked. “I don’t care how quiet you think you were being; you seem to forget that supersoldier hearing is a thing.”

The blush crept up my neck, and Bucky chuckled ruefully. “Sorry, Stevie. We’ll behave.”

“You’d better. Goddamn animals,” Sam grumbled. My embarrassment grew, but as the movie started to play the guys’ attention was diverted. Bucky’s arm around me tightened and his lips were light at my ear.

“How about we make that date tonight instead,” he murmured. “I wanna do this right, but I also don’t think I can wait until tomorrow night to be inside you again.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. “Bucky…”

“Ssh, doll, I told Stevie we’d behave. Watch the movie, and I promise I’ll make tonight a night you’ll never forget.”

A shiver ran down my spine, but I strengthened my resolve and settled in to watch the movie. After all, I was never one to back down from a challenge.

#bucky barnes reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky reader insert #smut #mcu #fluff #frenemies #enemies to lovers #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #steve rogers #sam wilson #semi-public sex

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matthewtkachuk · 4 years

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forgive me - rafe cameron

you’re ready to forgive Rafe, but first you’re going to make him work for it, sequel to ignore me

warnings: smutty smut smut (sorry not sorry), oral (female receiving), penetrative sex, lil bit of cockwarming (for @anxietyandtacos)

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

word count: 2.9k

a/n: in honor of me hitting 700, here’s the long-awaited sequel to ignore me, i hope yall enjoy 😏 (lowkey this isn’t proofread, sorry not sorry)

Rafe Cameron was the most annoying person on the planet, he was persistent and determined and so goddamn stubborn. He didn’t like to take no for an answer, and he knew every button of yours to press, and boy did he enjoy pressing them. He would pick and prod and poke until it drove you absolutely crazy and you had no choice but to acknowledge him. Above all though, he truly, deeply loved you and that’s why you could never stay mad at him. He didn’t need to know that, though.

After some of the best make up sex you’d ever had in your life, after you had left him in a huff to spend the night in the spare room once again, he’d ramped up his efforts to earn your forgiveness. The next morning he tried the breakfast angle again, this time bringing you eggs benny and a mimosa from your favorite brunch place on the island right to you in bed. You had to hide your smile as you sat up against the headboard and took the tray from him without even a half-hearted thank you. He didn’t say anything, but you saw the way his mouth twisted into a little pout and you could practically hear the gears in his head turn as he thought of his next step.

After you’d finished your breakfast, you made your way back home, thinking the extra bit of distance might further frustrate and motivate him. Lying on your couch, you spent your time scrolling through the several messages Rafe had left for you and giggling at his desperation. The earlier anger you had felt had all but faded, leaving behind soft fondness as you scrolled through various iterations of ‘I’m sorry baby’ and ‘I love you’ and ‘talk to me’ and ‘please’.

As it turns out, Rafe’s next step arrived after lunch in the form of Sarah Cameron holding a garment bag in one hand and a box that looked suspiciously like it might hold a necklace within.

You scoffed at the items in her hands, lifting an eyebrow as you told her, “If he thinks he’s going to buy my forgiveness…” you paused thoughtfully, eyeing the label on the garment bag and the Tiffany blue packaging of the jewelry box, “Well, damn he might be right.” Sarah only giggled and handed off the items to you, telling you that was only ‘the beginning’ and to be ready by 5.

Part of you thought about ignoring your instructions, slipping on a pair of fuzzy pajamas and watching movies with a glass of wine. The thought of Rafe’s face seeing you on the couch when he arrived that evening was almost enough to do it. But, truthfully, you weren’t even that mad anymore and you were really curious to see what kind of dress he had picked out for you. Looking at the time, you sighed. You really needed to shower, and you liked to take your time getting ready, so you got off the couch and headed up into your bathroom.

After your shower, you unzipped the garment bag and admired the silky, black fabric of the dress, more than a little impressed with Rafe. You spent the next few hours slowly getting ready, taking the time to do your hair and even bringing out the winged eyeliner. Your last step was slipping on the dress, loving the feel of the fabric against your skin.

At five o clock on the dot, your doorbell rang. You took your time swiping a thin coat of lip gloss to your lips before rolling them with a smack. Slipping on a pair of simple black heels, you checked yourself out in the mirror one more time. Rafe had done well choosing the dress, it was in your exact size and hugged the contours of your body perfectly. A small smirk graced your face as you imagined his reaction, and you couldn’t wait any longer, leaving the sanctity of your bedroom. You heard Rafe making small talk with your parents as you descended the steps. Your mother had loved Rafe the moment you brought him home as your boyfriend, but your father had taken longer to warm up to him. It made your heart happy to see the two of them getting along and so you rushed down the last few steps to keep from breaking out into a wide grin.

His jaw dropped slightly when you came into sight, eyes respectfully roaming the black dress hugging your figure. “You look beautiful,” he smiled, though his eyes furrowed when he noticed your bare neck.

“Could you help me put this on?” You asked softly, handing him the diamond necklace you grasped in your small hand and turning around, lifting your hair. You couldn’t help the shiver as his hands brushed against your décolletage and quickly clasped the necklace. He was grateful you didn’t feel how his hands shook.

Spinning back around, you grabbed his hand and tried to wish your parents goodnight and make a speedy getaway, but of course your father had other ideas.

“Have her back by 11,” your father gruffly reminded him and you rolled your eyes.

“Dad, I’m twenty years old,” You told him exasperatedly, but he just shook his head and reminded you that you were ‘under his roof’ for the summer.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, darling,” Your mom smiled, placing her hand on your father’s bicep to calm him. Grinning at her, you told them you loved them and all but dragged Rafe out the door. The second the door closed, you let his hand fall and walked purposefully to his truck. The way his smile fell a little hurt your heart, but you were playing the long game and it was too soon to give in. Rushing ahead of you, he opened the door and helped you in before shutting it for you and jogging to the driver side. He didn’t make a move to grab your thigh, and you found yourself missing the warm comfort it provided. While avoiding his gaze, you grabbed his hand from the wheel and placed it on its familiar position on your upper thigh, watching the way the side of his mouth upturned in your peripheral vision.

It didn’t take long to reach your destination, the cute new restaurant with seating on the waterfront. You had been talking about going there since it opened, but you and Rafe hadn’t yet found the time to go. You gave him a questioning look, there was definitely a wait list but he just shrugged and smiled before getting out of the vehicle and meeting you on the passenger side, opening the door for you again and helping you out. He tossed the keys at the valet, and walked into the restaurant, and you didn’t let go of his hand this time.

Sitting at your table overlooking the calm water, the late afternoon made its way into evening in a flurry of smiles and laughter and quiet conversation. You didn’t know if it was the way his larger hand held yours over the table, the soft adoration in his gaze, or the messy way his hair fell in his eyes, but by the time the entrees had been cleared from the table you knew you needed him. You could pretend the whole date hadn’t done a thing for you, or you could try and get him to show you just how sorry he was.

As he looked through the dessert menu, you squeezed his hand and murmured his name. He looked up at you and flushed a little under your intense gaze, asking, “Baby?”

“Take me home,” you told him slowly, and you saw his face fall. Sighing a little, he nodded “Alright-“

“No, Rafe. Take me home,” you emphasized the last word, tongue poking out to lick at your bottom lip. This time, you saw comprehension flash in his eyes and he nodded quickly, pulling out his wallet and dropping a couple hundred dollar bills on the table, more than enough to cover your bill and leave a generous tip.

The drive back to his house was considerably quicker than the drive to the restaurant, and his hand rested dangerously high on your upper thigh the entire drive, stroking it softly and ever so slightly moving closer to where you needed him without ever actually touching. The second he threw the truck into park, he was hopping out of the vehicle. Thankful that Ward, Rose and Wheezie were on the mainland for the week and Sarah was probably slumming it down on the Cut, Rafe pulled you into the house and slammed you against the shut front door, eerily reminiscent of when you had slammed it only a few days ago royally pissed off at your boyfriend.

You hungrily kissed him, hands running through and messing up his already messy hair. One of his hands gripped your waist tightly, the other cupped your left breast. Whimpering into his mouth as the hand on your waist slid down your side and slipped under your dress, you tugged on his hair. “Upstairs?” you asked when he broke the kiss to look at you. He smirked and you gasped when he threw you over his shoulder and carried you up the stairs, hand squeezing your ass just because it was right there and he could.

He set you down gently on your feet, both of his hands coming to rest on either side of your jaw as he pulled you in for a slow, passionate kiss. You felt your head spin, seeing stars as one of his hands slipped a little lower and began to gently put pressure on your neck. Gasping, you started to undo the buttons of his dress shirt, slipping your hand underneath the material and pulling it off of him. Your hands trailed down his toned chest and over his abs, before your smaller hands fumbled with his belt, pulling it clean from the belt loops of his dress pants. When you reached for the button, he pushed your hands away and spun you around to unzip your dress, pressing your chest into the door.

First, he pushed your hair over your shoulder and pressed a kiss to your shoulder blade before beginning to slowly pull the zipper down your back. Kissing every inch of back he exposed, all the way down to where your lower back met your ass before standing back up and pushing the dress off your shoulders, allowing it to spill at your feet. You turned around, back pressed to his bedroom door, and stood before him in just your matching lingerie set, and your entire body felt hot from the way he was looking at you – like you were everything he could ever possibly want. “You’re so beautiful, baby,” he murmured, causing your face to get even warmer.

Running his hands from your shoulder blades, down to your wrists, he linked your hands together as he pressed open mouth kisses down your neck and between your breasts. Pausing to mouth at your nipple through the lace of your bra, he continued kissing and sucking his way down your chest and stomach, stopping at the lace of your panties. You sucked in a deep breath as he sunk to his knees, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh before pulling your panties down your legs and helping you step out of them. He leaned back, admiring your core before stroking you slowly with his index finger, gathering the wetness on the tip of his finger. “Such a pretty pussy baby,” he whispered, “and all wet just for me,”

“Rafe,” you whined, hands moving to grip his hair as he lazily played with you, carefully avoiding your entrance and your clit. He smirked up at you, large hand gripping one of your thighs and lifting it to rest over his shoulder.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll take good care of you,” he kissed his way up your thigh, tongue flicking out of his mouth to lick at your clit once, twice. You jerked your hips, one hand leaving his hair to grip the dresser that stood beside his door. He pulled his head back and tilted it up to look at you, continuing with a smirk, “as long as you forgive me.”

The way he was looking at you coupled by his grip on your thigh had you unable to speak. Rafe mistook it as you stubbornly holding onto your anger, choosing to press his thumb to your clit and kiss the inside of your thigh, causing you to gasp. “Forgive me baby? Please you know I can’t stand you bein’ mad at me. I miss you.” He murmured against the smooth skin of your leg. You still couldn’t speak, and so he pressed his mouth to your clit, sucking and licking as you moaned above him. Suddenly stopping, he leaned back to look at you, indicating he wouldn’t continue until you spoke.

“I- yes, I forgive you, please, I-“ you whined, tugging on his hair. Sighing in a mixture of relief and pleasure as he reattached his mouth to your pussy, your head hit the back of the door with a bang when he slipped a finger into you, then another. You couldn’t help but grind your pussy against his face as he noisily sucked and licked. Eating you out was one of Rafe’s favorite things to do, and he once joked that suffocating between your thighs was the only way he wanted to go. It didn’t take long for you to reach your high after he inserted a third finger into you, curling all three fingers and stroking your walls. Your legs shook and you whined his name as you came, slumping against the door. If Rafe hadn’t been holding you up, you’re certain you would have fallen to the ground, boneless. After he had licked you clean, he gently set your leg back on the ground and rose from his knees before he pressed you into the door, kissing you as you tasted yourself on his tongue. His hand wrapped around your body and easily undid the clasp of your bra, slipping the fabric down your arms until you stood bare before him entirely.

Pressing a kiss to your lips again, he began to undo the button of his pants, before telling you to ‘get on the bed, baby’. Your legs felt like jello as you made the four steps to the bed, crawling onto the bed and laying against the pillows, watching him slip out of his pants and boxers, mouthwatering at the sight of his naked body.

You waited with baited breath as he crawled his way over your body, leaning down to kiss you again, slipping his tongue in your mouth as your chests pressed together. You ran your hands up his muscled back, holding him close to you as you kissed. He leaned his body weight on his forearms that rested on either side of your head, before reaching down to guide himself into your warm heat. The stretch was so good it was almost painful as he slowly entered you, inch by inch until your hips met. He was slow at first, keeping an even pace as he pressed kisses against your neck, your chest. “See how good it can be when you forgive me, baby?” he murmured into your neck. You could only whine in response, holding him tightly to your body.

It was the way his hips thrust in and out of you, the soft affirmations he whispered in between breathy, whiny moans, the way he gripped the headboard. It was the way he told you he loved you when he was fucking you into the mattress, the look in his eyes as he hiked your leg up further up his hip to enter you even deeper. It was the perfectly imperfect combination of all things Rafe Cameron that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head, your pussy clenching on his dick, as you came hard for the second time. Groaning at the feeling of you around him, he fucked you through your orgasm, chasing his own high.

Wanting to help him, you pressed a kiss to the spot just under his ear, smiling when he rewarded you with a whiny moan. Mind clouded with the pleasure he was still giving you, you incoherently rambled in his ear, “God I love you so much baby, you’re so good to me. You make me feel so good, no one can make me feel this good but you.”

Groaning, he slipped a hand down to rub against your clit, hoping to bring you to your third orgasm as he approached his own. Back arching without warning, you came unexpectedly around him again, crying his name and “I love you” and “I forgive you baby, I forgive you.” Your words spurned him on, and he came inside you before collapsing on top of you, cock still buried deep in you. You held him to your chest as it heaved, willing your soul to return to your body.

“You forgive me, huh?” He mumbled, smirking against your chest, “Was it the three orgasms, dinner, or the Tiffany necklace?”

“Oh baby,” you giggled, leaning down to kiss his sweaty forehead, “I already forgave you before all that, just wanted to make you sweat a little.”

Throwing his head back in a whiny laugh, he pressed a kiss to your chest, “Cruel woman.”

“Ya, but you’ll forgive me.”

everything taglist: @velyssaraptor @danicarosaline @copper-boom @x-lulu @prejudic3 @rekrappeter @downbytheouterbanks @ilovejjmaybank @bricksatanakinswindow @jellyfishbeansontoast @sunwardsss @rudyypankow @im-a-stranger-thing @alexa-playafricabytoto @maybankfullkook@girlsru1eboysdroo1 @sortagaysortahigh @socialwriter @bluesiderudy @anxietyandtacos

#rafe obx #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron #diverdcwn writes

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thatoneao3writer · 3 years

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(The lack of Awesamponk content on the TT au is physically hurting me, so I made a mini fic dedicated for them-)

Sam paused his work when he heard knocking at his door. “Come in!” He called out.

The door opened and Ponk peeked his head in. “Hey Sammy, it’s movie night, everyone is waiting for you.” He said with a small pout. Ponk didn’t have his mask on, which probably means he just came out of the shower.

Sam smiled. “Sure Ponkie, I’ll be there in a bit. Sam Nook needed some adjustments, don’t worry though, I’m almost done.” He said, gesturing at the small raccoon robot lying face down on his work table.

Ponk sighed and entered the room, then hugged Sam from the back, placing his chin on the other’s shoulder. “I’ll wat for for you.” He mumbled.

“Sure,” Sam said and faced his work again, letting Ponk watch quietly.

A comfortable silence washed over them, the only sounds to be heard were metal hitting the table and the faint tik toking of the clock. Ponk had moved so he was sitting on (more like straddling) Sam’s lap, snuggling at his boyfriend’s neck as Sam continued his work.

Sam chuckled knowingly at Ponk’s advances. “Ponkie, what are you doing?” He asked, feigning ignorance. Ponk was clearly trying to distract him.

Ponk remained silent, but he did turn his head and kissed Sam’s temple lightly. Then he quickly buried his face in between Sam’s neck and shoulders, as if he was embarrassed at the show of affection.

Sam smiled adoringly, flushing deep red. He placed down his tools, took off his gloves, and carefully took Ponk’s face to his hands. “You’re adorable.” He said, then kissed the tanned man on the forehead.

Ponk wrinkled his nose with a cheeky smile. “I know,” he snickered before pulling Sam into a full kiss.

Sam melted into the kiss in an instant. It’s been quite a while since they’ve kissed like this. Relaxed, comfortable, slow, sweet. He loves it. He smiled as his tilted his head and placed a hand on Ponk’s cheek, feeling like all the stress he had a couple of minutes ago just dissipated into the wind. He could honestly jut do this forever.

“You guys are disgusting,”

The heroes pulled away from each other with a sigh. Ponk placed his chin back on Sam’s shoulder and Sam turned around to see Ant leaning on his door frame with a teasing smirk on his face.

Ponk scoffed. “Yeah right, that’s rich coming from you, Ant. ‘Oohhh look at me, I’m Antfrost and I make out with my enemy every time we see each other because he’s soooo hot!’” He mocked playfully.

Ant rolled his eyes as Sam laughed. “Oh shut up Ponk. You guys can make out later, Bad and Puffy are waiting downstairs.”

“Alright, pay up.” Were the first words Ant said when they arrived in the living room, making Sam and Ponk look at each other in confusion.

Puffy jumped of the couch, looking angry. “What?! You guys couldn’t wait until the end of the night for that?!” She screeched as she begrudgingly handed Ant a twenty dollar bill.

Ant cheered as he mocked Puffy of her loss.

Sam was about to laugh, till he realized what their argument meant. “Wait- you guys bet on us?!”

“You guys bet on them?!” Bad pipped up, coming out of the kitchen with two bowls of popcorn. “That’s not very nice.” He reprimanded with a small frown.

Ant tutted as he made a show of putting his prize in his wallet. “Says the guy who placed a 50 dollar bet of Puffy and N-”

“Language!”

“I didn’t even fucking curse!”

“You just did!”

“Well that was because you were being a bitch about it!”

“Ant! Language!”

Sam chuckled as his friends continued to bicker. He was way too used to them to even attempt to stop the ‘fight’. He sat down on the love seat and beckoned Ponk over to sit on his lap again, which the other didn’t hesitate to comply.

Puffy played the movie without even waiting for Bad and Ant to be finished arguing. Eventually, the two settled down and sat side by side as they watched Kung Fu Panda for the hundredth time.

#awesamponk #awesamdude #dropsbyponk #antfrost #badboyhalo #captain puffy #timb writes #my fic #my au #ttau

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milstrim · 3 years

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Comfort in My Shadow

Chapter 4: Uninvited

By @iwritedumbshit for @iron-mum

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Ned Leeds, James “Rhodey” Rhodes

Summary: Soulmates are definite in the universe. Nobody knows exactly why they exist, or what dictates who is bonded to who, the only thing known is that they are never wrong. But Peter’s not so sure about that.

Living at the group home had taught Peter a lot about laying low and how to stay alive when nobody cares. But he’d always clung to the hope of the shadow at his feet reflecting his soulmate that had watched over him for years.

Typical that his soulmate is actually a superhero that Peter is convinced shouldn’t want anything to do with him. Maybe, just this once, the Universe was wrong.

But Tony Stark is desperate to prove that it is right.

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

---

Peter didn't really wake up the next morning, because he hadn't really fallen asleep last night. He'd been incredibly tired, but his hair hadn't been able to lay flat and he hadn't been able to block out the overwhelmingly disgusting smell of Mr. Fowler's closet. He'd been it the entirety of the day and even throughout the night when Mr. Fowler stomped into the room and passed out on the bed. The lilting stumbles in his steps made Peter think he'd been drunk and had likely forgotten about the kid trapped in his closet.

So he hadn't really slept, but his eyes had been closed--the darkness of his eyes was better than that of the closet--until the door had finally swung open, allowing Peter his first full breath in almost a whole day. The dankness of Mr. Fowler's room was a thousand times better than the closet. An arm had grabbed his own, pulling him roughly to his feet and out of the closet. His legs had ached with the disuse, but he'd stumbled to his feet nonetheless.

"Are you going to talk back to me again, son?" Mr. Fowler had asked, a horrible pleasantness to his voice. Peter had shaken his head. Something had been shoved into his hands, and he'd fumbled only to realize it was his wallet. "There. The card doesn't work anymore, so you can have that piece of shit back. Now get out of here."

"O-okay. Thank you," he'd said, stumbling out of the room and into the bathroom that he'd been deprived of for almost twenty-four hours. Once he'd finished and washed his hands, he'd searched through his wallet.

His few crumpled bills had been taken, but the pictures stuffed inside had been left alone, and the black card had sat crammed in a pocket. He'd grabbed it with fumbling fingers, brows furrowing. It didn't work anymore? Had the man maxed it out? Peter had swallowed, a pit forming in his stomach as he thought about what the hell he'd bought to do that. Probably a lot of alcohol had been his guess.

He really, really hoped that Mr. Stark couldn't see his purchases.

After a quick shower, in which he'd had to sit down his vision had swam so much, he'd rushed out the door with his beaten up backpack swinging off of his shoulder. He knew he probably should have stayed to check on the other kids who'd had to listen to the fight last night and might need help with homework, but the teenager couldn't stand to be in that house for any longer. Everything smelled like Mr. Fowler's awful closet and he just needed to be out in the bright Sunday sun. He wanted to find just a little comfort in his shadow that he'd been deprived of the night before.

So he'd changed into his suit and swung around for most of the day, flipping for some overly excited middle schoolers and directing an old man from Ukraine visiting his son who lived in Harlem and ignoring the pain in his stomach. When there was a lull in the late afternoon, he strung a web between two buildings and just did as many daring flips and handstands as he could. It was a feeble attempt to distract himself from the events of the past few days.

Hits and threats from Mr. Fowler were nothing new, in fact, they were a staple in the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys, but last night had been different. He'd never been trapped like that in the group home. He'd always had a lot of free reign as long as he operated within the curfew and got his chores done, but yesterday was like someone had flipped a switch on that, and he was still reeling from the terror.

Or that could be the hunger eating through his stomach. Peter stopped flipping on the web for a moment, instead laying down and balancing himself on the thin string as his stomach growled so hard he flinched. He wouldn't even be getting anything today. When did his grounding end again? He was pretty sure it was Thursday, but he wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Fowler extended it after last night. Maybe he could stop by Ned's and get a granola bar or something.

The teenager looked down at the ground to stare at Mr. Stark's shadow, blinking as he realized it was no longer clothed in normal attire, or a sharp business suit, but rather the larger outline of what he could now identify as the Iron Man armor. He narrowed his eyes, wondering what the man must be doing. Probably something really important.

Peter sighed, moving to sit up, when a sound made him pause. He cocked his head before finally turning in the direction of the mechanical whine to make out the Iron Man suit flying towards him.

Huh.

He tried to feign disinterest, laying back down on the web and placing his hands underneath his head as the suit landed on the nearest building rooftop and Mr. Stark stepped out, but Peter couldn't lie to himself about how excited he really was to see the man.

"Hey, Mr. Stark," he greeted from the web.

"Hey, kid."

"Um, thanks for the letter." Please don't ask about the card. Please don't ask about the card. "Are you sure about the phone, though? I mean, that thing looks like it could cost as much as a house."

"Keep it, kid, I gave it to you for a reason," Mr. Stark said, waving him off. Peter watched him warily as he sat down on the edge of the building, shuffling nervously. Peter smiled to see the man very clearly out of his element, as if he would let him fall anyway. "So, how's your day been?"

Peter shrugged. "Fine."

"No hangovers or anything?" Peter froze. "Can you even get drunk? Cap can't."

The teenager hesitated before answering. It was either 'I bought a bunch of adult stuff with your credit card' or 'My foster father bought a bunch of adult stuff with your credit card.' He wasn't sure which one was better, but there didn't seem to be much to win from lying, not that there was much to gain from telling the truth either.

"I don't know," Peter responded honestly as he sat up on the web to stare at the shadow on the ground. The imitation felt more comforting than the real thing at that moment.

"You don't know? You bought three hundred dollars of pure liquor."

"Three hundred--Oh, jeez. I'm really sorry, Mr. Stark."

Mr. Stark blinked at him for a second before his gaze softened.

"You didn't buy any of that stuff, did you?" Peter shook his head. "Who? Andrew Fowler?" A moment. A nod. "Okay, I'll just deactivate that card and give you a new one."

"No, it's fine, Mr. Stark," Peter said, pulling his wallet out of his hoodie pocket and showing him the black card. "He gave it back. I think he was annoyed that it was, like, maxed out or something."

"Well, it is most definitely not maxed out--there's a lot more than three hundred on that, kid--but I'm glad you got it back."

"Thanks."

There was a minute of awkward silence before Mr. Stark rolled his shoulders and sat up straighter.

"So, no tower yesterday?"

Peter suddenly remembered the little note at the end of his letter. He shrugged bashfully, mumbling, "Yeah, sorry, uh Mr--Mr. Fowler kept us pretty busy yesterday. Chore day, so."

"Wanna stop by now?"

Peter looked up at him in surprise. It was a wonder this man didn't hate him yet. The foster parents Peter had before Mr. Fowler had gotten sick of him pretty quickly, or just hadn't been very attached in the first place, while the majority of his teachers regarded him with either pity or disdain at his situation and record. As far as Mr. Stark knew, he had an accident-prone, snotty teenager as a soulmate whose favorite pass time was to be a juvenile delinquent.

And yet, the mechanic regarded him with a soft smile. A little strained, but welcoming nonetheless. It unfurled something in his chest.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Yeah!--I mean, sure sure, that'd be fun." Mr. Stark gave him an amused smile as the teenager stepped off of his web and onto the roof of the building. With a quick glance and a rare smile, Peter leaped off the roof, enjoying the way Mr. Stark yelped in surprise. Peter called, "Beat you there!!"

He did not, in fact, beat Mr. Stark to the tower. To be fair, the man was in a suit that flew faster than a jet and Peter was only propelled by physics and muscles.

The teenager watched from a short distance as the Iron Man suit paused in front of a higher point in the tower, faced him for a moment, and then dove through the window. He raised an eyebrow, but doubled down in catching up to the man, only barely managing to swing himself high enough so that he wouldn't have to crawl his way up more than a couple of stories.

Finally, just a few minutes later than Mr. Stark, he rolled through the window and landed hard on the floor just a little unsteadily, not that he cared in the slightest. There were much more interesting things to care about in that moment.

"Whoa..."

"You like it?" Mr. Stark called from across the lab. Peter nodded dumbly, staring, widemouthed, at the state of the art equipment decorating just about every inch of the room. There were cases of Iron Man armor lining the walls, robots rolling around--he managed a laugh at one with a dunce cap sweeping the ground with a broom inefficiently--and tables filled with projects Peter couldn't even begin to dream of. "You can take your mask off here, kid. No one's going to see you."

Mr. Stark's voice pulled him back to reality, drawing him further into the room hesitantly. He glanced at the man, but realized dimly that his spider sense had finally calmed down. This wasn't the danger he'd felt after being fished out of the lake, or the feeling that had been following him since, it was a normal calm mixed with just a hint of nerves.

He tugged his mask off.

Mr. Stark stared at him, a soft look on his face, before finally tearing his gaze away when Peter shuffled uncomfortably.

"Sorry, kid," he apologized. "Didn't mean to freak you out. Just..."

"Just what?"

"It's just nice to see you, Peter."

He didn't know what to say to that, so he just offered the billionaire a strained smile and stepped over to the desk the man was standing at. He felt more than a little out of place, but his curiosity overwhelmed his discomfort as he glanced over a shiny metal case held lightly in the billionaire's hands in interest. Mr. Stark tapped it when he caught the boy looking.

"This, kid," he said, sliding it over, "is for you."

Peter caught it effortlessly, his fingers light and hesitant as he glanced from it to Mr. Stark, his head down.

"I can't accept this, Mr. Stark. You already--"

Mr. Stark interrupted by reaching over and pressing something on the case. It sprang open, spooking Peter enough for him to take a step back but holding his attention as he caught sight of the bright red fabric. The eyes were what really caught his attention, looking unreasonably cool and intimidating. Peter mumbled, "This is the coolest thing I've ever seen."

Mr. Stark chuckled. "Good thing it's yours."

"It's--" He gaped at the man. "Mr. Stark, I really can't accept--"

"Too bad," he interrupted. "It's a gift and it's rude to turn down a gift. So, there's a bathroom right over there if you want to try it on. Give it a whirl?"

After a moment of hesitation, he closed the case, thanked Mr. Stark, and headed to the bathroom to change.

---

When Peter stepped out of the bathroom in the new suit, Tony couldn't help but frown. He covered it up as quickly as possible, but the sentiment still remained as his eyes roamed over the kid. He was muscular, sure, but he was so thin that it practically hurt. The teenager's ribs were practically there just for him to count and worry about. He filed it away for later as Peter turned to look at him, the mask's eyes narrowing.

"Looking good, hotshot," Tony said. "How's it feel?"

"It's awesome, Mr. Stark," Peter responded, his hands held out in front of him as he tapped the webshooters. "It smells like a new car!"

Tony couldn't help his laugh. "If you think that's cool, just wait. Friday, Babysitter Protocol."

"Babysitter--" Peter cut off with a confused yelp as his suit lit up blue, the AI in his suit supposedly greeting him. The kid cocked his head. "Oh, hi. Nice to meet you too."

Tony turned away, letting the kid and the AI get acquainted as he pulled out his phone and ordered a few pizzas. Five might be enough. Steve had always eaten a lot, and even if he didn't manage to burn through the best pizza in the city, the kid could definitely use leftovers. He entered the order and shifted back to observe the kid again.

"--uh, Liz? No, no, that's weird. How about Karen?" A moment as he waited for a response. "Fun. Nice. Cool, this is so cool."

Tony smiled, unable to tear his eyes away from the kid. His soulmate. His little shadow.

Peter turned to look at him after a few minutes, muttering a quick goodbye to the AI--Karen, he guessed--before tugging the mask off again. There was a hesitant smile tugging at his thin face. Much too thin. How many pizzas would it take to get the kid back to even a semi-healthy weight? Probably way too many.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Stark," Peter said. "I really can't thank you enough."

"Please, you can thank me by not thanking me. Pepper says my ego's already a little off of the charts." Peter laughed and Tony couldn't help his grin. "Wanna stay over for dinner? I ordered pizza."

Peter hesitated, but after a moment he answered, "Alright," which was so much better than the kid regarding him defensively or looking like he was constantly on the edge of running away again. And, as it turned out, Peter fit more easily into his life than he could have thought.

In barely thirty minutes, the kid was sat beside him at a desk filled with vials of web fluid and pieces of Iron Man armor, an old, frayed hoodie of Tony's slipped over the suit, and a stack of freshly baked pizza laid out in front of them. Peter sat in the chair next to him as the mechanic ran through the schematics of his suit, hanging on every single word.

"...most of the framing is between the protective layers of your suit, completely waterproof by the way, if you ever get yourself into another lake. You also have a parachute if you pass the three thousand feet threshold."

Peter glanced over his shoulder in surprise. "There's a parachute in this thing? How?"

Tony tapped his back where he knew the spider logo was. "A magician never reveals their secrets."

"Did you compress all the air out of it? Or build it into the wiring on the patch on my back somehow?"

"Both are true." He took a bite of pizza. "You're pretty smart, huh?"

Peter ducked his head with a shrug. "Sorta. I can figure out chemistry, but that's about it."

"I don't believe that for a second, but we'll stick with the modesty for now." Peter huffed out a laugh, spinning the hologram of his suit and staring at it in complete adoration. It dragged a smile onto Tony's face.

Peter had a sort of ruggedness to him, a desperate scrappiness, but it was embarrassingly easy to see that that wasn't all there was to the teenager. His rambles were fast and excited, his scarce smiles adorably bright and always lighting up his doe eyes. There was a kind of spark to Peter that Tony couldn't explain, and, though he was sorry that the kid was saddled with him, he couldn't have wished for a better soulmate.

Apparently, five pizzas ended up being a great number, because Peter ate everything Tony offered him. He was practically a human garbage disposal, though much more polite. Tony was glad that the kid was filling up, but it made him seriously question how much he was getting at that group home. After letting the kid get comfortable for about an hour, he voiced it.

"Do they feed you where you live, kid? I swear, you just put down over ten thousand calories."

Peter paused on the slice he was eating, swallowing before putting it back on the plate nervously, and Tony immediately regretted ever opening his big, fat mouth.

"Yeah. They--Mr. Fowler feeds us fine. Just, enhanced metabolism, so." He shrugged. It was said so nervously that it felt like an outright lie, but Tony left it alone.

"Okay. Good to know. Just make sure to use that card whenever you get hungry, kid. I'm not having my soulmate starve."

At his mention of being soulmates, Peter glanced over his shoulder to stare at their shadows. Right now they almost looked like their own shadows, mirror images of each other, but if you looked hard enough you could see the slight difference in hair texture and the distinctive widths of their shoulders.

"It must've been weird," Peter said. Tony glanced at him in confusion. "Not having a shadow. You didn't get one until I was born, right?"

"Oh. Yeah," Tony agreed. He swallowed as he admitted, "Thought I was broken for the longest time. It was the best day of my life when your tiny little baby shadow appeared at my feet... What about you? Always had a grown man following you around, huh?"

"That sounded creepy, Mr. Stark." Tony just grinned cheekily. "It was nice, actually, always having you there. Like--like a guardian or something."

"And now you've got the real thing." Peter rolled his eyes and Tony pointed at him. "Ah, there's that good ol' sass I was looking for. I was afraid I'd lost it."

"Uhuh. You're kinda weird, Mr. Stark."

"Right back at you, little shadow." Peter smiled at the nickname before glancing out the window where the sky was a deep russet red. "Time for you to head out?"

"Yeah. I've still got some homework to do."

The two stood up and walked over to the window. Peter moved to take the hoodie he'd been wearing off, but Tony stopped him. "Keep it. I've got plenty."

"Oh, thanks, Mr. Stark."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm so generous. Have fun with the suit, kid, I'll see you soon."

"When?"

Tony paused, looking over at the kid who had only just begun to pull the mask over his head, hopeful eyes staring at him. He desperately wanted to tell the kid he'd pick him up from school tomorrow so that they could hang out in the lab again, but he knew he genuinely didn't have any time. He'd been putting off packing for a few too many days.

"After we move. I'll pick you up from school on Friday. We can go explore the compound together. Sound good?"

Peter nodded. "Yep. Real good, Mr. Stark."

"You can call me Tony, Mr. Parker," he joked.

Peter pulled the mask down and jumped out the window with a call of. "See you Friday, Mr. Stark!"

Tony's shoulders shook with laughter.

---

Friday. Peter couldn't wait for Friday. With a burst of excitement and energy he hadn't had in a while, Peter flipped in the air and let out a WHOOO! only catching himself at the last second before flipping back up.

"Wow, this suit is so intuitive!" he exclaimed, shooting another web.

"I am glad you think so, Peter," Karen responded, shocking him so bad he nearly let go of his web. Oh, yeah, he'd forgotten he had an AI now. Man, Mr. Stark was so cool. "I am currently taking feedback for the suit's systems in case anything needs to be changed on Friday. Would you like to rate the suit's webshooters?"

"Oh, full eleven out of ten, Karen. It's great."

"Thank you for the feedback, Peter, I have sent a note to Mr. Stark."

"Oh." Peter blushed. "You didn't have to tell him that, Karen."

"Why not? He has asked for feedback."

"No, it's not--" He cut himself off, sighing as he flipped himself into a large arc. "I just don't want to bother him. He's already been so nice to me."

"Mr. Stark has asked for feedback, Peter."

"It's not the--it's not the feedback, Karen," he tried to explain.

"I do not understand."

He spluttered and then sighed, waving it off. "Whatever. It's fine, Karen, just forget it."

"Of course, Peter. Would you like me to show you the quickest route home?"

Peter hesitated. He did have a lot of homework to do, and Eric probably needed help with his reading, but he had to swallow down fear at the thought of being in the same room as Mr. Fowler again. It was irrational--it was so stupid--and Peter knew it, but he couldn't stop the way his hands seemed to shake and his entire body quail.

"Actually, let's take the scenic route. Really test out the suit, y'know?"

"Of course, Peter. Planning now."

A blue line appeared on screen, leading Peter back to the group home. He muttered, "So cool."

Spider-Man was only halfway back to the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys, finally across the bridge and back into his home territory, when his spider sense went off again. He immediately glanced down at his shadow, which had lengthened as the sun set, for some kind of comfort or guidance. But of course, there wasn't one. It was just a shadow.

A little put off by the shiver that had run down his spine, he attached himself to the side of the building, staring out over the street. Nothing too out of the normal. People hurrying on the sidewalk, cars honking down the street, and shadows following along aimlessly.

"Karen. What's going on?"

"What do you mean, Peter?" the AI asked.

"It's just--there's something wrong. Maybe--" At a second shiver up his spine, Peter turned to look at where his senses were directing him at the ringing of a bell.

It was a small bodega, its door swung open as two men stepped inside in unreasonably thick coats for the warm weather. He narrowed his eyes, and the suit zoomed in with him, scanning the men before they disappeared through the door.

"What's the time, Karen?"

"7:30."

"Alright, we're good then. Plenty of time." He swung over to the bodega, attaching himself to the wall above the door, out of sight of the occupants inside. His senses had yet to calm down, so he assumed that he was right about this being a robbery. "Ready to test out the suit, Karry Berry?"

"I am always ready, Peter."

"Y'know, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

"Does that mean I should assign you a nickname too?"

"Definitely! Think about it for a moment and get back to me after we do this," Peter exclaimed in an excited mumble, straining his ears to hear whatever was going on inside. There was the tense calm of nothing for a moment, and then a shuffle and a squeak followed by a spike in his senses. He muttered to himself. "Finally."

He kept his ears strained on the actions going on inside, dropping down in front of the door quietly to watch what was happening. There was a teenager at the register, her hands fumbling with the register while the two men from earlier in their dark coats pointed shotguns at her. He could see tears streaming down the girl's face, clearly terrified.

Peter crept forward, picking up on the muttered conversation inside.

"--just open the register, keep it quiet," the closest man said in a raspy voice. "Hand everything over nice and quick."

"It's--it doesn't open," the girl cried. "It doesn't open unless a purchase is made and--"

The man flinched forward. "Do I look like I care? Just open it!"

Finally having heard enough, Peter placed his fingers against the door and pulled it open as quietly as possible.

Ding!

Peter froze. Heads turned. Curses flew.

The superhero darted forward as the gun pointed at him, firing a shot that missed him completely as he dove behind a grocery aisle of gummies and pregnancy tests. Bodegas really were something. Peter crouched down, muttering under his breath, "Fuck that stupid bell."

"Would you like me to alert Mr. Stark to your predicament?" Karen asked.

"What? No! I can deal with this, Karen, just watch."

"I like the new look," came the voice of the man that had shot at him. "New government sugar daddy or something?"

Peter blanched. "I really wish that that would stop being people's first assumption. People can be platonic y'know!"

There was a scoff and the sound of something warping. Peter's eyes narrowed, peeking around the grocery shelf and then immediately ducking back. The man, the one who hadn't shot at him, had pulled out a large and glowing weapon that looked incredibly similar to the one that had been at the ATM robbery. Man, he was getting really sick of those things.

The teenage girl had looked okay, shivering behind the desk and thankfully not making any moves to alert the police, as far as he could tell anyway. The last thing he needed was cops showing up in such a tense situation. And his first time using the new suit! That would be just plain embarrassing.

"Platonic or not, I don't give a shit," Normal Gun Man said. "A new look isn't going to change your situation. So either come out, or we shoot you."

"I don't know if you can shoot me while I'm back here soooo."

There was a click and a squeak. "Yeah? What about her?"

Okay. So that was a little different.

Without hesitation, Peter stepped out from behind the aisle shelf, his arms raised half-heartedly in the air. The two men had ski masks over their face--not quite as fun as the Avengers masks, but it'd do--but he could still see the honestly nervous smile of the man holding the gun. Clearly he hadn't expected the arrival of Queens favorite vigilante.

"Good to know that you can comply," Normal Gun Guy said. Alien Gun Guy had the weird blue gun pointed at Peter, but the shotgun was still directed at the worker. He chose his target.

"Not really."

With a flick, he webbed the shotgun and slammed it into the wall. There was a startled scream at the same moment his hairs stood on end. Peter only managed to jump forward before he was encased in a blue light that gave him quite possibly the worst headache of his entire life. He hated the feeling of that stupid thing. He didn't quite know what it was, but it felt like something out of The Incredibles. Like Syndrome and shit.

"Ugh! This thing is so weird!" Peter complained in a warped yell. Alien Gun Guy gave him a brutish look and then swung him through the window.

Peter grunted as he crashed through the window, wincing at the clinking shatter of glass that broke under him, but, surprisingly, none of the glass managed to grab at him and slice through his skin, even as he was shot across the street from the force of the alien weapon, only stopping when he thudded against the wall. He groaned as the air was forced out of him.

At least the suit had kept him from getting cut.

"Ugh... The hell." The teenager shook his head, forcing himself back to his feet, clinging to the wall for just a moment as he blinked out dizziness. Remembering himself, he turned back to the bodega across the street, panicking when his head pounded. That wasn't from being hit, that was his spider sense.

The men ran out of the door, hulking along a cash register and a handful of cigarette packs, but the teenage girl had yet to leave and his head only pounded harder. Spider-Man dashed across the road, leaping through the already broken window, his breath catching as he caught sight of the purple thing sitting on the ground in the middle of the bodega. It whined, louder and louder.

Bomb. Bomb!

Peter's head shot around so fast he physically winced, but he caught sight of the teenager behind the counter. Working on instinct, he jumped over the counter as the whine reached its apex, wrapping his arms around the girl and pushing himself between her and the bomb. He squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as possible, gritting his teeth.

The world shook and she let out a surprised cry into his shoulder but didn't let go. Peter barely managed to hold down a whimper of fear. Be brave, be a hero. Be brave, be a hero. He could do it. He was fine.

He was fine.

Peter blinked his eyes open, moving carefully to peer over the counter.

"Dammit," he muttered. The rest of the windows had shattered, and just about every product in the store had been knocked back and now littered the ground. A tile fell from the ceiling, making him tense his shoulders. They'd gotten away. Some hero he was.

"I have a nickname for you, Peter," Karen said in his ear. He frowned in annoyance. Well, he had told her to tell him once the situation was over.

"Great," he snapped, stepping over the counter, his boot crunching on the glass. "What is it?"

"Peter-butter!"

"...Okay that's actually pretty good."

---

After double checking that the cashier was alright, Peter had fled the scene, cursing himself for how bad it had gone. Nobody had died, but that wasn't really the standard he was looking for. If anything, he'd really just made everything worse. Stupid, Parker, stupid!

The teenager sighed, dipping into the dark alleyway where his backpack had been left earlier. He grabbed it from under the crate of boxes where he'd hidden it, pressing the spider emblem on his chest, allowing the suit to cascade off of him. Frustrated, Peter ripped the mask off and untangled himself from the fabric at his feet, stuffing the items in his faded blue bag and jumping back into his own clothes, and, after a moment of hesitation, slipped into the hoodie that Mr. Stark had given him.

He pulled the bag over his shoulder and buried his hands into his pockets as he stepped out of the alleyway and back onto the streets in the direction of the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys. His brows were furrowed and his face squished into a deep frown. He couldn't believe he'd been given a superhero suit by literally Iron Man and he'd screwed it up immediately. He chittered nervously at the thought of Mr. Stark seeing what had happened at the bodega and realizing just how shit of a superhero his soulmate was.

As he was debating the likely-hood of Mr. Stark taking the suit back and never talking to him again for his screw up, his phone buzzed. Hesitantly, Peter pulled it out to find two texts waiting for him. One from Ned and one from Mr. Stark.

He clicked on the one from Ned first. The text app opened up to show Peter a grainy picture of him in his new suit followed by Ned's message of 'Excuse me??? tf is this?? tell me everything rn or im going to die'

Peter smiled faintly, making a mental note to call his friend in a few minutes. With a deep breath, he clicked on Mr. Stark's message.

Mr. Stark: I saw the news. You okay?

Peter blinked. He wasn't mad? He chewed on his lip as he sent a response, 'All good. Sorry I freaked you out.'

Mr. Stark texted back almost immediately, 'No problem. Just glad you're good. Text ya later, kiddo.'

And that was that, Peter supposed. No...no nothing, really. He'd expected a lot more resistance or opposition from the billionaire, but he wasn't mad that he hadn't gotten any. He was about to call Ned when his phone buzzed again.

Mr. Stark: 'P.S. You can talk to and text Karen through your phone. Knock yourself out, Peter-butter.'

Well, that was embarrassing. But still kinda cool.

With a shake of his head, he finally dialed Ned's number. His friend only picked up after two rings with a breathless greeting.

"Yo, what the hell is up with that suit? Did Mr. Stark make it for you? Are you super hero buddies now!!? Officially his sidekick!!?"

Peter smiled, shaking his head in amusement as he stopped at a streetlight. "Yeah, Mr. Stark made it for me. It's cool right? It even has an AI!"

"It has an AI!!? Please, please, tell me you'll let me look at it."

"Duh. Yeah, you can look at it. We can go to your house after school." Peter thought for a moment, thinking of the alien weapons. He'd messed up today, probably disappointed Mr. Stark, but if he could take the whole operation down... "Besides, I need your help with something."

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

#friendly neighborhood exchange #peter parker #tony stark #Iron Man #spiderman #irondad #spiderson #irondad and spiderson #ironman fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #soulmate au #platonic soulmates #not st*rker

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