#gotta straighten out that poor delivery guy

[welcometojackass2022]

Hot and Ready, Just Like Our Pizza (Sub!Raab x Reader) [Smut] (Jackass, CKY, Viva La Bam)

Just a stupid idea I came up with after I learned about Raab’s short time as a pizza delivery boy. Apparently he’d have Bam and Dico accompany him at night while he’d knock down the mailboxes of the people who didn’t tip him. This takes place in the early 2000s, long after his job as a pizza delivery boy, so I imagine this roleplay scenario as him living out a fantasy of what he wishes would have happened while he actually had that job. I believe the 2nd and 3rd GIFS are from my favorite girl @lovelyra so thank you as always :)

Description: It’s just like one of those cheesy pornos from the 80s. You’ve ordered a pizza, but when the delivery boy, Raab, gets to your house, you discover that you only have enough cash to pay for the pizza and not enough to give him a tip. Perhaps he’ll accept another form of payment?

Warnings: Female Reader, Cursing, Smut, Sub Boy/Dom Girl Dynamics, Roleplay, Pizza Delivery Man Roleplay, You offer to pay the pizza delivery boy with something other than money and he says yes because of course he does, This whole situation is wish fulfillment on Raab’s part, Raab addresses you as ma’am the whole time

@asskickedbygirl @butttxray @lieutenant-cinnamon-roll

Ding-Dong. Ding-Dong. Ding-Dong.

Your doorbell rang three times, and you paused the movie you were watching to peer out of your living room window, slightly annoyed by the loud disturbance. Through the window, you could see that a skinny boy with long, slightly messy hair was standing on your doorstep with a look that was a mix of nervousness and impatience. He wore a wrinkled long-sleeved shirt with the name of a pizza place emblazoned across the front of it, and he was holding a box of pizza in his hands. “Oh shit, finally!” You’d been waiting for that pizza for what felt like an hour. You checked your watch and, sure enough, it had been an hour. No wonder the poor guy looked so nervous; he probably thought you were gonna yell at him for being late. Lucky for him, you weren’t the type of asshole to yell at a food service worker over something as insignificant as cold pizza. You stood up from the couch and made your way over to the front door, pulling out the $10 in cash from your pocket you’d gotten out so you wouldn’t have to fumble around for it, and then you opened the door right as the pizza boy was moving to ring the doorbell again.

He quickly straightened up, the impatience fading away to be replaced with pure nervousness as he spoke. “Uh, hello ma’am. Here’s your pizza. Sorry for the wait, I got stuck in traffic.” He handed you the box, and you smiled reassuringly. “No worries! You made it here, that’s all that matters. $10 plus tip, right?” The pizza boy shook his head. “Don’t worry about the tip, ma’am, you don’t have to give me one since I was so late.” You smiled. “I’m still gonna give you a tip, sweetie, I’m not a dick. You got the pizza here, didn’t you? That deserves a tip, as far as I’m concerned.” Your reassurances were enough to calm him down, and his nervous look quickly disappeared as a sweet little smile spread over his face. “You’re nice, ma’am. Usually people just yell at me and slam the door in my face when I’m late.” You shook your head with a frown. “People like that are just assholes, don’t let them get to you. Here, I’ve already got the $10 for the pizza right here, and then I can just grab the tip from my wallet for you—oh shit. Where is my wallet?” You handed the pizza boy the $10 bill for the pizza as you felt around your pockets for your wallet, which you were certain you’d had on you just a few minutes earlier. It wasn’t in any of your pockets, it wasn’t tucked into your waistband, and it wasn’t on the couch where you’d just been sitting. “Fuck. Where did it go? I haven’t left the living room all day, it’s gotta be here somewhere.”

Your heart sank as you realized your wallet was most likely lost; you weren’t particularly worried for yourself, since it had to be somewhere in the living room and that meant there wasn’t a whole lot of space you’d have to cover to find it, but you were worried for the pizza boy. You’d promised him a tip, after all, and expecting him to stand on your doorstep for the next thirty minutes so you could find your wallet to give him said tip seemed like a lot to ask of a stressed out delivery boy. You bit your lip, leaning against the frame of the front door as you tried to decide how to fix this messy situation. The pizza boy awkwardly shrugged his shoulders, trying to hide his disappointment as he mumbled a reassurance. “It’s fine, ma’am. Like I said, I was late. You don’t have to tip me anyway.” You shook your head, crossing your arms. “No, no way am I letting you walk away without some kind of tip. Let me think.” You racked your brain for any other sources of money that you may have had; any dollars in a drawer? Any jars full of quarters? Surely you had a least a little money laying around somewhere in the house. As you thought about it, you glanced up at the pizza boy, who was staring at your breasts; clearly, he had assumed that you wouldn’t notice where he was looking. Crossing your arms had accentuated them, and now the poor boy couldn’t seem to take his eyes off them. Interesting. Maybe I can do something with this.

You decided to test his interest a little further; you purposefully crossed your arms even more so as to push them together, leaning forward a little bit so he could just barely see down your shirt. Sure enough, the delivery boy’s eyes widened, and his eyes remained fixed on your chest, the slightest hint of a bulge appearing in his jeans. That was all the confirmation you needed to decide how you were gonna tip him. Offering to have sex with the pizza man as a tip was the type of cheesy, cliched move that was usually reserved for bad 80s porno films, but at this point you didn’t really care. You needed something to tip him with, and if that was sex, then so be it. Besides, he was pretty cute, and he seemed like a sweet guy, so it wasn’t like you were gonna have to force yourself to pretend to be attracted to him. “Maybe I could tip you in another way?” You leaned even further forward to give him a better view down your shirt, and his bulge became even bigger, his breath hitching as he tried to tear his gaze away from your breasts long enough to look up at you. “Huh? Oh, uh, sure ma’am. What other way are you thinking?” You could see the slightest glimmer of excitement in his eyes, like he wanted sex to be a possibility but didn’t want to get his hopes up too high. “Well…I was thinking maybe you could come inside for a few minutes and I could…play with you for a bit.” You smiled suggestively at him as you spoke, your eyes fixed on the sight of his cock hardening even more through his jeans as he crossed his legs in a desperate attempt to hide how aroused he was.

His eyes went even wider than they already were, and his face became a deep shade of red as he realized what you were implying. “You mean like…sexually?” You grinned. “Yes, sweetie, sexually. If you don’t want to then that’s fine, but if you’re into it then by all means let’s do it.” The delivery boy thought it over for a moment, nearly shaking from how excited he was at the offer, and then he fervently nodded. “Yes, ma’am, that sounds nice.” You smiled. “Great! Here, come on in, sweetie.” You led him inside, setting the pizza down on your kitchen table and motioning for him to sit down on the couch, which he eagerly did. “Oh, by the way, what’s your name sweetie? This might get a little awkward if I don’t know what to call you.” He grinned bashfully, leaning back against the couch and letting his black uniform shirt ride up just enough to expose a sliver of his flat belly. “Oh right, sorry. You can call me Raab.” You made your way back over to the couch and sat down beside him, close enough to make him feel comfortable but not close enough to make him feel like you were trying to rush him. He seemed a little antsy still, like he was nervous, and you leaned over to push his hair out of his face reassuringly. “Are you okay? You can back out, you know, I’m sure I’ve got actual money lying around the house in some odd spot if you’d rather take that.” Raab quickly shook his head. “No, ma’am, I really wanna do this. No one’s ever offered this before, so this is kind of a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You’re also really hot. Sorry, was that disrespectful?”

You laughed. “No, Raab, that wasn’t disrespectful at all. You’re really hot too. Anyway, why don’t we get those tight jeans off first? The button looks like it’s gonna snap off from how hard your cock is right now, poor thing must feel so trapped.” Raab glanced down at his prominent bulge, his cheeks going slightly pink with embarrassment. “Yeah, sorry ma’am. You leaned forward earlier and I saw down your shirt, I swear I wasn’t trying to but—” You cut him off with a kiss, pulling him closer so his upper body was pressed against yours. When he pulled away, his eyes darted down to take in the full view he had down your shirt, and you led his hands up to grab at your breasts through the soft fabric of your t-shirt. “You don’t have to be sorry for looking at them, Raab, I’m glad you like them. Do you wanna see them without the shirt?” He nodded eagerly, sitting up against the couch and pushing up his long black sleeves, and you grabbed the hem of your shirt and swiftly pulled it off, tossing it aside and grabbing Raab’s hands again to let him play with your bare boobs. As his fingers wandered over your nipples, you moved your own hands down to unbutton his tight jeans, unzipping his fly and reaching into his boxers to pull his hard cock out. It was cute and pink and just the right size to fit in your hand, and you gave it a few quick, teasing pumps as you admired it. He whined softly, bucking his hips up against your touch. “I can’t believe this is actually happening.” You glanced up at him inquisitively. “What do you mean, sweetie?” You briefly removed your hand.

Raab’s face went red, and he desperately reached for your hand, trying to get you to start touching him again. “I’m about to get fucked by a pretty girl as a tip for my lame-ass pizza job. I just never thought I’d be this lucky.” You smiled, wrapping your hand around his cock again to touch him like he wanted. “I’m surprised no one’s offered this before, considering how cute you are.” His hands continued to play with your bare boobs, squishing and squeezing the soft skin and curiously rubbing over your hard nipples; after a moment or two, he leaned down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, glancing up at you for approval, and when you nodded, he gently wrapped his lips around the sensitive nub, suckling on your nipple as he stared up at you with a vulnerable look. Soft little whimpers escaped his mouth every time your hand swiped over his slick cock head, and it made you want to get into fucking him even quicker just so you could hear what sounds he’d be making when your pussy was around his cock. He quickly switched to the other nipple and sucked on it with just as much enthusiasm, his lips wet and red with saliva, and you only gave him a few seconds to linger there before you pulled him off to kiss you again, pushing your tongue into his mouth as you grabbed at the hem of his uniform shirt and tugged it upwards; you pulled away long enough to help him take his shirt off, and then he hungrily pressed his lips to yours once more, letting you explore his bare chest with one hand and jerk him off at a slow, sensual, teasing pace with the other.

Raab pushed his hips up long enough to pull his boxers and jeans all the way down his legs and onto the floor, all without breaking the kiss, and then his hands wandered down to your pants, his fingers shakily unbuttoning and unzipping them and helping you lift up so he could pull them all the way down to your ankles; you kicked them off and then broke the kiss to see his reaction. The poor boy couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of you in nothing but your panties, and his cock seemed to become impossibly harder within your grip, beads of precum leaking from his red tip as he stared at you wide-eyed and mouth agape. You giggled at his shocked look, leaning over to grab his hand and guide it down between your legs, motioning for him to rub your pussy through the thin material of your panties. As cute as it was to see him so shocked, the fact that you were both nearly naked was making you slightly impatient from how badly you wanted to fuck him right then and there. Raab gently rubbed at your clit through the panties, clearly a little nervous and not wanting to do something wrong, and you parted your thighs to give him a little more access to your pussy. He cautiously pulled your panties aside, glancing up at you once again for approval, and then he gently pushed one of his fingertips inside you, moaning softly at the feeling of your wetness wrapped around his finger. You let him explore for a moment, pushing his finger further inside you and twisting it around to rub your clit.

“Are you ready for your tip, sweetie? You ready to fuck my pussy?” Raab nodded eagerly, pulling his fingers away and moving to get on top of you, but you stopped him. “I’ve got a better position we can try.” You climbed into his lap, facing him and wrapping your hand around the base of his cock to hold it steady as you lowered yourself down until your dripping wet entrance was just barely hovering above his tip. Raab’s eyes were locked on your pussy, a look of anticipation on his face as he waited for you to take his cock. He instinctively gripped your hips, subconsciously trying to pull you all the way down onto his cock from just how impatient he was, and you wrapped your arms around his neck as you lowered yourself down onto his cock head. The second he felt your warm, wet cunt wrapped around his tip, Raab’s mouth fell open, his head falling back against the couch as his grip on your hips tightened. “Holy shit, that feels so good, ma’am, keep going.” You sank even further down on his cock, pausing to adjust to the feeling of it stretching you out, and Raab pulled your body towards him to bury his face between your boobs, soft moans leaving his mouth as he felt your pussy enveloping more and more of his thick shaft. His hands pushed down on your hips, helping you take his cock all the way to the base, and you purposefully tightened up around his shaft, grinning when his eyes nearly rolled back in his head and another soft whimper left his lips. You started to move, but he stopped you, wanting to enjoy the feeling of your pussy completely engulfing his cock from tip to base.

You patiently waited, giving him a little time to get used to the sensation, and then you held onto his shoulders as you pulled yourself all the way up off his cock, teasing the tip of his cock with the lips of your dripping wet pussy, making him whine impatiently as he waited for you to take his aching cock once again. “Shh, be patient, sweetie. You don’t wanna speed through your tip, do you?” He shook his head. “No, sorry ma’am. It just feels really good, I want your pussy back on my cock so badly.” You nodded, soothingly stroking his hair. “I know, sweetie, I know. Don’t be sorry. Come here, let me give you something to distract yourself with.” You guided his mouth back down to your nipple and he obediently suckled on it, just barely bucking his hips up out of desperation for friction, his cock bobbing around as he waited for you to finally sink back down on it. You held a firm grip on his shaft, holding it in place as you rubbed the wet folds of your pussy over his cock head once again, waiting until precum was dripping from his tip and his legs were practically shaking to finally lower yourself back onto his cock, bouncing up and down on his shaft to ride him as you grabbed onto his shoulders for support. Raab gasped against your nipple, saliva spilling from his lips as he squeezed his eyes shut and moaned loudly at the overwhelming pleasure of your slick wet cunt engulfing his sensitive cock, and he pulled away to press fervent kisses to your boobs as he jerked his hips up to push his cock deeper inside you.

“Please go faster, ma’am, I need to cum so bad—” Raab buried his face in your neck with a whine as you tightened up around his cock, his fingernails digging into your hips as he humped his hips up against you, his tip pressing against your sensitive spot as you quickened your pace like he’d begged you to do. You pulled on and off his cock, raking your fingernails down his toned back as you rode his cock at a quick, steady pace, eyes focused on Raab’s face for any signs that he was closer to his orgasm; his breathing was heavy, his face a bright red shade and his hair messy as he thrust his hips up against you, lips slightly parted and eyes still squeezed shut as he desperately groped at every part of your body he could reach. You took his cock all the way to the hilt and stopped again to rub your clit against the tip of his cock, bringing yourself just as close to cumming as he was, and then you slammed down on the full length of his shaft one more time, clenching up around him and reaching your orgasm right as he came with a shuddery gasp, throwing his head back against the couch and bucking his hips up as you milked his cock dry. His load was massive; by the time he finished, his cum had completely filled your pussy and was dripping down your thighs, a look of pure ecstasy mixed with exhaustion on his face as he laid back against the couch with a soft groan, his cock still inside you as it softened. “Fuck, ma’am, you’re a very generous tipper.” You giggled, giving him a gentle kiss on the lips as you pulled off of him and got up from the couch to grab a towel.

You cleaned the cum off your thighs and off of his cock, helpfully smoothing down Raab’s messy hair, and then you dropped it in the laundry bin and helped the awestruck delivery boy to his feet. “Here, sweetie, I’ll help you put your clothes back on.” You dutifully helped him with his pants and his uniform shirt, rubbing your fingers over his flushed cheeks to soothe them, and after a brief moment of the two of you staring at each other, you leaned over to give him another soft kiss, his hands running up your still-bare sides tenderly as he pulled away with a grin. “You’ll order another pizza soon, right?” You laughed as you walked him to the door. “Of course I will, sweetie. The one I ordered today is probably cold now that I think about it, being left on the table for so long, so maybe I’ll order another one tomorrow to make up for that.” His face lit up, and he nodded with a lovestruck look. “Sounds good, ma’am. Maybe I’ll get lucky and you’ll lose your wallet again.” You smiled, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Maybe. You better be getting back, though. Your boss is probably wondering where you are.” He nodded. “Right. I’ll tell him I got stuck in traffic. Listen…this was really nice. And you really are beautiful, ma’am. Thanks for…you know. My tip.” He rubbed his neck sheepishly as he made his way through the door, and you waved goodbye to him with a smirk. “Anytime, sweetie. Drive back safely.” You closed the front door, paused for a moment, and then opened it again. Raab was standing there with a massive grin on his face. “How did I do?” You pulled him back inside and hugged him tight, kissing him on the cheek affectionately. “You did amazing, baby, that was so unbelievably hot I’m not even sure how to explain it.”

Raab blushed, taking off the uniform shirt he’d kept from his days as an actual pizza boy and tossing it on the couch, and then he made his way over to the box of pizza on the table and opened it to grab a slice. “I’ll say. God, I wish a girl had actually tipped me like that when I really was a pizza guy, maybe I wouldn’t have knocked down so many mailboxes. The best tip I ever got was $10 and a coupon for a free Subway sandwich.” You laughed, grabbing your clothes off the floor to put them back on as you closed the front door. “Wow, really? People are such cheapskates. If it makes you feel better, I definitely would have tipped you like that if you’d shown up at my front door with a pizza.” Raab grinned. “I probably would have been obsessed with you if you did. Instead of knocking down your mailbox, I would have made Bam and Dico come with me to leave flowers on your doorstep every night, that’s how annoying I was back then.” You hugged him from behind, shaking your head. “You weren’t annoying baby, I’m sure of it. If a guy had left flowers on my doorstep like that, I would have thought it was really cute. Cuter than knocking my mailbox down, anyway. So, what should we roleplay as next? Any other miserable low-paying jobs you worked? I’ve got an idea: rich man’s lonely wife and the handsome construction worker who’s doing renovations on her mansion.” Raab raised his eyebrows and glanced over at his pizza boy uniform. “We’re gonna need more costumes.”

[kiryll-antiqua]

Envoy

There was a package for him in the usual place at the usual time where Kiryll expected to recieve gifts a certain someone insisted on giving him. He expected them to cease with Varis's passing, but they kept coming at their appointed time.

The gifts were almost always practical or perishable things that Kiryll seemed to express some passing interest in. They would end up in his hands, discreetly packaged, without fail, every two months, despite his own insistence that it was unneeded.

"Let me do this, if you will not allow me to have your enemies slain for you."

Currency given out only to those who participated in the games at the Wolves Den, which he himself was once too timid to join, a fresh loaf of bread, still warm, from the most expensive bakery in town, a dip pen handle made of inlaid mother of pearl, depicting a beautiful white bird with long tail feathers, all things that were untraceable and easy to dismiss as innocuous and not out of place.

Surely there was some envoy still watching him. He had never caught the deliverer of the packages, partially out of lack of curiosity and partially not wanting to learn if it was someone he knew already. But Varis was dead and the Empire with it, so this should have stopped.

Two months was enough of the passage of time that it was easy to forget, and Kiryll was becoming more and more fed up with Ul'dah the longer he stayed there, but he wanted to know who it was who was still sending him things.

It was very easy to think that one in this city truly cared for him except his mother. People had certainly been apt to use him when they discovered he was kind despite looking too Garlean to be trustworthy. Even as a Warrior of Light, he felt like he could sense certain people's derision without even having a conversation with him, but his journey and meeting friends who treated him well had reduced his misanthropic worldview. Still, Ul'dah had lost its charm, and telling himself no one cared for him made it easy for him to think about leaving.

He stood up as if it were Starlight Eve, waiting for this mysterious courier in the hallway to his apartment. Despite his presence, the courier approached.

The envoy ended up indeed being someone he knew, a scrappy miqote girl who called herself Grizabella, who had "adopted" him despite being at least ten years his junior.

"Griz, no."

"Kiryll, I..."

"Why?"

"Look, I know this looks terribly suspicious, but if it's anything, I did replace the original courier after knocking them out for stalking you. I agreed to take up package delivery after I saw them lift your mood."

Kiryll was trying to break the habit of crying at the drop of a hat these days, but as usual, his tears couldn't be contained. "I would rather this stop. I've been thinking about leaving anyway."

"I guess I gotta tell the guy, then."

Kiryll folded his arms and straightened up. "And just who is this guy, Griz?"

"Another go between. There's loike, four or five that rotate for security purposes or sommat."

Kiryll sighed. "Of course." It made all the sense in the world for Varis to have gone overboard with his contingencies.

Grizabella tried to change the subject by lifting the package up for him to look at, and he reluctantly took it. It was a teacup in the style he had dimly remembered his grandmother owning in his early childhood. It wasn’t anything that had belonged to her, but close enough in style that it still evoked a sense of nostalgia. "Ohh! This one's right pretty, it is!"

"These things are always beautiful in their own way. I think I should rather whatever infrastructure is behind this to start giving to the poor instead. I obviously won't be giving up any of them, but when I move, they'll just be stolen off my doorstep anyway." The teacup was bright red and made of some kind of translucent ceramic or crystal, painted with gold filigree in abstract vines and flowers that reminded him of certain decorative motifs he had also seen in the fairytale books his aunt had read him and his sister about Ivalice.

Varis had also loved the tale of the Vagrant, and had probably been read to from a much fancier copy of the tale in the palace. Kiryll shook his head to keep himself from dissociating in front of Grizabella, though.

"So, if you want fings to be donated to the poor, I can arrange it. Mostly what I end up getting are instructions and money to purchase fings, 'cept in cases like this one where it's an import."

"I would be much happier if we could use that to make sure the orphanage is well stocked with donated goods in a sustainable way. That's what I tend to try to do with all of my feelings about him. Try to turn it around and cleanse it until its good intent is actually usable."

"Kiryll, I know the Empire was bad and he was bad, too, but. You don't 'ave to spend all of your time trying to fix or clean fings or transform them until they seem acceptable. It's clear that he really seemed to 'ave feelings for you, tyrant or no, paragon to 'is own people, but unable to stop thinking about you." She stopped, realizing she had probably said too much. If she had just played it cool, it would have escaped Kiryll's notice.

"And how do you know that, Griz?"

"I ain't ever met 'im meself, but wiv working with the other couriers, they 'ad the complaint."

Kiryll let himself smirk. "Loyal Imperial spies sworn to secrecy, leaking the scandal wasn't worth the price they knew they'd pay, perhaps."

"Ain't no stakes in it now, so I dunno what's what anymore, but I took a part in it because you stopped smilin', and I couldn't fink of any other way to do it than remain giving you the gifts he intended to send you. There’s a bit of a backlog, wiv local provisioning requests interwoven. A lot of thought went into this."

Kiryll scratched his head nervously. "Of course there is..."

"Would you like to get biscuits? I don't know if I should just leave you 'ere alone after all this."

Kiryll nodded. During the last string of adventuring with the Scions, he had learned how important a measure of rest was. "There are several places still open at this hour. I can treat us. I'm good for it."

"I know you are! 'At's why I keep you around!"

Kiryll placed the teacup on his counter, grabbed a coat and locked his door.

[hellsdogs]

Ughhhh. Watching the building, Kimura’s already pissed. He stands at the bottom of the block, cigarette in hand, knowing it’s another family with no damn money, and somehow he’s gotta squeeze a bill out of them. He knows that since back in the days, his own bulding, the one he grew up in, was in the area right next to this one. Name’s Matsushita. Well. Maybe this Matsushita man’s gonna sell his TV or skip paying for his kids education to scrape together half of it, that would be great. He climbs the stairs, wanting to get it over with quick. This should’ve been Watanabe’s mess, but Watanabe’s dead, and now Kimura’s stuck handling all these loaners he left behind. Yeah, well, don’t rest in any damn peace, Watanabe. Kimura bangs on the door, patience long gone, hands on his hips, eyes locked on the peephole. A voice behind the door echoes, asking who he is, what he wants. Oh well, there’s a tone he doesn’t like. “I’m the Delivery Guy. You asked for a pizza, but we’re out, so I came without it.” He already knows this one’s never opening the damn door. Fine. He shifts, placing his elbow against the handle, picking his angle. Cheap door, cheap security. With a grunt, he slams his elbow into the handle. A loud crack echoes, but it’s not enough. Another hit. Half of it gives. One more slam, and the handle snaps off, falling to the ground. Good. Kimura pushes the door slowly, figuring either she’s smart enough to step back or she gets shoved along with it. Straightening his suit like he didn’t just break the door open with his bare elbow, he buttons his blazer up, hands sliding into his pockets then. “I wouldn’t use that phone if I were you. I can break it, but you probably need it for school.” His voice is calm as he steps inside, inviting himself into the cramped apartment. He glances around, quickly realizing there’s no family here—just one person. He was expecting a dad, a family. Great. Kimura walks further in, letting his hands brush against the little things she has in her tiny space, not really looking at her as he talks. “Let me introduce myself: I’m a banker. Me and my banker friends, we’re very, very nice. We give money to poor little citizens who want to fulfill their dreams. Sweet of us, right?” He pauses, then continues, “Thing is, that money… it’s gotta come back. Otherwise, how do we get to fulfill our dreams, mm?” Now, he stops pacing, finally turning to look at her. “Someone under the name Matsushita borrowed money, didn’t pay it back. And the only phone number we had for him? Disconnected. All my calls, ignored. That’s rude, don’t you think?” His gaze hardens as he sizes her up—must be about 20... 25 max. He assumes her dad’s the one who borrowed the money, it usually is. A 50-year-old man’s daughter, maybe? Doesn’t matter. He’s got barely any info, and it’s already exhausting him. “I’ve got important things to do, so I’m only asking this once: where’s your daddy?”

[eyeofnewtblog]

Things that happen at home:

So, unfortunately, when you google my next door neighbors address, it shows up as my address. It took about six months to notice that packages and mail were getting delivered incorrectly, but not so badly that it was noticeable. Until Covid hit. For the last year or so, my neighbors, who are in their 50s with a high risk mother in law living with them (not sure if it’s the husbands mom or the wife’s mom, but all three of them are really sweet)

Any way, today I came home early from work, and just as I finish changing into sweats, I hear the doorbell. And I Know For A Fact that there are absolutely zero deliveries that could be coming to me, at this time, and in this place. So I race out the front door and knocked on the window of the delivery driver.

Me, pulling my shirt over my face because I didn’t think to grab a mask: Hey! I’m so sorry about this, but I PROMISE YOU this delivery was for that house right there. *points*

Driver: But the address said *rattles off my address from the info on his phone*

Me: Yeah, no, this happens all the time, it’s really for them, I pinky swear.

Driver: *poor beleaguered guy sighs and gets out of the car, starts helping me move the $200 worth of groceries to the next porch over* Oh, you didn’t have to help me?

Neighbor Wife, coming out as we drop the first four armfuls of bags: AGAIN?!?

Me: Yeah, I know, right?

Neighbor Wife, yelling into the house as she starts carting groceries in: Hey, get back on that app and make a complaint FOR THE FIFTH TIME *garbled stuff, like you could hear that she was still yelling but not what she was saying*

Driver: Is she always like this?

Me: Nah, I mean yes, but this has been going on for like a year and a half. Google maps stops right in front of my house for both our addresses, so sometimes they don’t get their stuff until the next day because we just bring stuff in and don’t always check it. She gave us some really bomb Christmas cookies though, so I’m not mad anymore.

Neighbor wife, as we drop the last of the groceries off: Good Lord, honey, I should be tipping you instead!

Me: nonono, tip him, he didn’t mean to, you know how it is.

Neighbor wife: Yeah, I do, but there’s a point when you gotta put your foot down!

Me: Yeah...but. Hey, are any of you allergic to dogs?

Neighbor Wife: No....are you about to ask us to watch Zelda?

Me: Well, that depends on what you’re doing for Christmas this year.

Neighbor Wife: *with an absolutely shit eating grin on her beautiful face* Can I feed her anything I want and tell my husband she only sleeps in the bed with us?

Me: grapes, onions, garlic, and any kind of pepper are poisonous to dogs, but otherwise, absolutely yes. But she has super stinky farts if you give her eggs.

So, long story short, my accidental delivery situation with my neighbors has resulted in free dog sitting for Christmas. Neighbor Husband may not be a fan of this, but I’m also kind of okay in letting my dog get spoiled to hell and back in the name of whatever weird revenge thing is going to happen eight months from now.

[awritersnightmare]

Spooktober Day 9- It will kill you if you don’t say please

Hey guys, today has been hectic but I have this done! TW: assault, sexual assault implied.  Thanks for reading, reblog if you do !

Day 9- “It will kill you if you don’t say please”

           Daisy toyed with her zippo, standing on the corner of Fairmont and 4th. The brief bursts of flame keeping her fingers warm before extinguishing it and starting the process all over again. This had to be the corner. She’d never gotten a location wrong before. Darcy had sent the memo not even seven minutes ago. She had huffed it over here, expecting to find the rest of her team already there.            Annoyed, she opened her phone again and checked the message. “Fairmont and 4th, five minutes. Or the boss will fire you. –D. Carling.”            She rolled her eyes, always that same threat. As if the boss could really afford to lose their best team. Without them, their success rate would still be in the low fifties instead of up in the high eighties. The rest of the percentage was filled with the mediocrity of the new teams. Within a month of their training they had become the senior team. The truth of their new company only being revealed at the last second.             They weren’t just a shipping company, they offered all kinds of fun services. Wasn’t that exciting? Didn’t you just love that you’d sold your soul to the proverbial devil?            Fine. Whatever it took to get her family out of the debt they’d dug themselves into. Her parents lived in fear of being taken away from her brothers. It was up to her to free them. And every paycheck went to them. Almost twelve hundred dollars a job. That times two every month. Within the next year they would be free of the debtors. And Daisy? Well, she could never see them again.            She checked her watch, in two minutes the rest of her team was going to be very late. Again she read over the message, triple checking this was the right place. This time she also read the recipients line. Surprise passed over her mind as she realized she was the only one who had received the message.            What in the world did that mean?            Anxiety spiked inside her. If she was the only this meeting was for then who was she meeting?            Quickly, she shot off a text message to Nick and Bella. She needed someone to know her last whereabouts. In case… well in case she didn’t come back from whatever this was. Maybe this was Darcy’s way of getting rid of her. Why, she couldn’t begin to try and guess at. Then again, she made a point of not trying to understand anything about her bosses.            Her phone dinged, a message from Bella. And two seconds after one from Nick. Bella’s was frantic.            “Do you need me to come get you?”            “No… But if I don’t message you again in an hour just… come find me.”            As for Nick… Well…            “I’m on my way. Don’t move.”            And there was no point in trying to persuade him otherwise.            She could always count on him to take care of her. And everyone else on their team. They’d been paired together since the beginning of their journey with the G.O.D.S. organization. As a family, they took care of each other. No matter what happened they had each other’s backs. That included being back up for sketchy deals with their own company.            “Miss Lang, I presume,” A voice said behind her.            Daisy spun around to face a tall man in a black three piece suit. He had a deep purple bowtie and a pocket watch hanging out of his vest pocket. He smiled down at her, his teeth shining in the afternoon sun. One hand was tucked neatly in his pocket, a cane hanging from his elbow. The other hand held a notebook open.            “Who wants to know?”            The man’s smile widened. “An interested party.” He made a note in his book and tucked it into his jacket pocket. He slipped the cane off his elbow and rested on it, leaning forward so their faces were almost level.            Daisy began to calculate how far she could get if she needed to run. What were her exits and which one would carry her farthest away. She didn’t need to get home, she just needed to lose him. Her best bet really would be to scale the building beside them, but she’d never been good at climbing. That was Lena’s specialty. Okay so not the building. What was option two? Run into the street? Pray the cars didn’t hit her but were numerous enough to slow down the man with a cane. Maybe… The alleys around here were all dead ends. She needed an open space.            “You want to acquire some kind of object?” She asked, trying to keep him occupied while her mind made an escape plan.            “Hm… you could say that.”            She hated the tone in his voice. She hated the slimy residue it left on her skin.            “Well, the organization I represent can get you a fair price on any shipment. What did you have in mind?”            Keep with the sells pitch. Keep him talking. Make him put his guard down and then attack. Just like you were trained.            All she’d have to do was kick his cane out from under him and smash his face into her knee the moment he lost balance. That would make his head spin and give her at least ten seconds to dash away.            Darcy would be pissed at her for losing a client, but he wasn’t worth the money. She’d make it up to him somehow. Rob a bank or something. Besides, this guy didn’t seem good for the cash. He was dressed fancy but the ends of his coat were fraying and his shoes had scuffmarks.            No way did this guy have the kind of cash for whatever it was he wanted.            “This would be… a kind of special delivery,” he said, reaching out and grabbing her arm.            Panic shot through her and she grabbed his arm, twisting it around to pin it behind his back. The cane clattered to the ground and she shoved him up against the marble building. He let out a muffled cry of alarm, his face now smashed into the wall.            “Don’t you dare touch me. I am not for sell you piece of crap,” she said. “I’m the delivery girl, if you want a package you gotta go through the proper channels.”            “Darcy said-“            “I don’t care what he said. He isn’t here. I make the rules in this deal. You understand?”            He wriggled against her, twisting this way and that. Trying in vain to loosen her grip. “Let me go you bitch.”            She clucked her tongue at him. “Such language. That will get you nowhere in life. I should just kill you right now.”            “Help! Help this thing is assaulting me,” He cried.            For a brief moment she thought maybe someone might try and stop her. She looked around, but there was no one on the streets at this hour. No one respectable at least. If they saw a guy shoved up against a wall, it meant he’d deserved it.            The glories of the city.            “This thing won’t kill you, if you just say please,” she said, sweet and unassuming.            All the fight went out of him. Realizing that no one was going to come to his aid. He slumped against the wall with a soft whimper of pain. “I-I’m sorry. P-please let me go.”            Daisy smiled and released his arm, pushing him into the wall as she stepped back. Without hesitation he recomposed himself and straightened his jacket. He dust off his vest, looking over his outfit with great care. Finally he smoothed down his hair and spat at her feet.            “Such poor service. Darcy will be hearing my complaints,” he said and picked his cane up off the pavement.            “Good,” Daisy said. “I’m sure he’d love to hear how you tried to lay hands on one of his star employees. Please, go on and tell him. It will be your word against mine.”            “You’re a beast.”            Daisy giggled and twirled her hair, “oh please. There’s no need for flattery.”            He let out a huff and stalked away, looking back only once to make sure she wasn’t following. The farther away he got, the faster he walked until he was all but sprinting down the street.            When he turned the corner out of sight, Daisy opened her phone. As she was typing a very strongly worded message to Darcy, Nick came careening around the corner. He reached her, placing his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. When he could stand up again he leaned against the wall and said,            “I’m here.”            “Yeah, two minutes too late,” she said, though not with anger.            Nick winced and ran his fingers through his hair, “sorry I was… up at 24th and Pine. I had to run all the way here.” He keeled over again and put his head between his knees.            “Oh sweetie please calm down. You’re going to make yourself sick. I’m fine, just some scumbag not understanding what it is we do.”            She finished her message to Darcy and dropped down beside him. He wrapped an arm around her and she leaned against him. It had been awhile since she’d had a close call like that. It used to happen a lot, now she barely worried about it. Nick hugged her tight and placed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.            Over their weeks in training he’d become the big brother she’d never had.            They sat there for a few minutes, recovering from the adrenaline. Two minutes in she got a reply from Darcy.            “Yes we’ve had problems with him before. Promised he would behave this time. We agreed since he can pay well but… you know how it is. I knew you could handle it. Well done, Lang.”            Daisy dropped her phone and buried her face in her knees. God she hated him. Nick didn’t ask but tightened his arms around her while she silently cried.            This is for your family… this is for your family…  

[monaisme]

Day 12: “who are you?”

Day 12: “who are you?”

All May had wanted was to pick up a quart (or two, but don’t tell!) of her favourite cookie dough ice cream to enjoy sometime during her three blissfully quiet hours of alone time.

Peter was out with MJ on their first official “Spider-Man/MJ outing” (Of course, they weren’t calling these dates because MJ was dating Peter. Per MJ, Spider-Man was simply an experiment in alternate transportation methods.) while Happy was caught up in some SI security restructuring caused by that asshat, Quentin Beck, may he rest in Hell.

Regardless, she had at least three hours to herself before Peter got back and five hours before Happy was done with work. If she had timed it correctly, her Thai delivery would be arriving at the same time she was getting back from the bodega down the street. From there, she had an appointment with a remote control and a face mask. It was going to be amazing.

She offhandedly hoped that the delivery guy hadn’t come early, because her cell phone was at a whopping 0% in her purse and her charger was currently sitting in Happy’s car. Such was life, she guessed. She would have to wait for her boyfriend to come over later and hurry up home, just in case.

She arrived back at the apartment, forever grateful that this one was only a three story walk up for them versus the seven they had to deal with pre-Blip. It was only a few minutes before the ice cream was sitting in her freezer and her Netflix was cued up and waiting.

A knock sounded from the front door. Her stomach growled at the thought of curry so she hurried to answer it, grabbing her wallet along the way. No Peter-shaped vacuum cleaner meant it was all for her and she was loving it.

The delivery person knocked again, a little more aggressively.

“Here I am,” she sang out as she threw the door open, revealing a tall, muscle bound, and heavily tattooed man wearing a set of brass knuckles. “Um, you aren’t the delivery guy...” She stepped back, realizing her mistake. “Who are you?”

He didn’t answer.

She reached for the door, thinking that if she simply closed it, the man would be gone and she’d be safe.

But she was wrong.

A large, steel-toed boot wedged itself between the door frame and door, preventing her retreat, and he pushed himself into the apartment. May was knocked to the floor next to the bookshelf in his enthusiasm, her wallet landing in the entryway to the kitchen.

“What do you want?” she cried out.

He grinned. “You know what I want, Mrs. Parker.” He leaned over her and caressed his brass knuckles along her cheek, “And I’m telling you now, that we can do this one of two ways.”

She shook her head frantically. “I don’t know what you mean!?”

His touch changed then, and what had been gentle brought pain as he grabbed and yanked her hair, forcing her head back as he came down, snarling in her face. “Don’t play dumb with me, Mrs. Parker. Tell me where he is now and maybe I’ll let you live.”  

She tried to shake her head again, but his tight grip gave no yield. “Look, I don’t know who you’re looking for, but he’s not here! You’ve got the wrong apartment, I swear it!” She pleaded, tears of pain rolling down her cheeks.

“Oh, Mrs. Parker, I am definitely in the right spot.”

That was when she heard, realized, stopped struggling. “How do you know my name?” she whispered, fear halting her tears.

The man took a moment to really look at her. She wasn’t sure of what he saw, but he barked out a laugh and pulled her face away before releasing her hair from his grasp. “You don’t even know, do you?”

“Know what?” she cried out.

“Spider-Man, Mrs. Parker—or maybe you would know him as Peter Parker?”

May blanched. “What?”

The man laughed. “It seems that JJ Jamison really does have a hate-on for your,” he scanned the apartment casually, “nephew, right?”

She froze and then her gut clenched. How he could make her love for that boy sound so casual...

“Don’t bother pretending, Mrs. Parker. We all know who he is now, thanks to Quentin Beck and good ol’ JJ, and with the gift of technology and a few clicks, we all know who you are, too. Now... should I be calling you Maybelle instead?” The man crouched down over her. “Maybelle, darlin’, I’m done being nice and I really don’t have time for this. You’re up to speed so let’s get down to business, tell me where he is.”

May shook her head, ‘no,’ not knowing what else she could really do. She didn’t know how this goon had figured out who Peter was, but she’d die before she told him anything.

“Very well,” he responded. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He moved lightning fast. May barely had a chance to see the glint of his brass knuckled fist flying toward her—but she absolutely felt the explosion of pain as the skin of her cheek split open from that first strike.

“I will ask again,” he snarled. “Where is Peter Parker?”

Maybe it was the way he asked it, all monster in that moment, but something in May snapped, and with a determination she’d never felt before, she reached back to the bookshelf and grabbed the first thing her hand touched.

The heavy ceramic ashtray that Peter had made Ben for Father’s Day at age seven was wielded by May like a warrior. The jagged edges connected with her assailant’s cheek, leaving him with a wound mirroring the one he’d just inflicted.

He reeled away from her, hand flying to his cheek. “You bitch!”

The adrenaline flowing now, May scrambled back to her feet. If she could just get out of the apartment, she could call out and a neighbour would get the police.

She just had to get to the door.

The problem with him being so much larger than her was his significantly longer arm span, and within two steps, the man had her hair in his grasp again, using it as a leash. “Look, lady, I tried to be a gentleman about this, but I am not giving up a ten million dollar bounty just because I couldn’t get a damned nurse to crack!” He pulled her into his chest and pinned her arms. He leaned in, whispered in her ear, “And if you think you’re safe if you get outta here, think again. I just got here first... there are so many more coming.”

“How...?”

The man chuckled. “What? You think superheroes are the only ones who know how to email? Watch a news stream online? Hack a high school directory after seeing such a cute picture of your little Petie-Pie? Pfft. That’s nothing.”

He repositioned her so he could free up an arm and pulled a gun from the back of his jeans with it, and pressing it against above her ear. “Now, I’ve just caught a look at the time, and this is definitely taking longer than I’d planned. But no one can accuse me of not goin’ with the flow. So. Change of plans, Maybelle. We’ve gotta get movin’ before it gets too crowded in her, ‘kay? ”

May was terrified to ask, but she had to. “Moving? Where are we going?”

“Well, if you won’t tell me where he is,” He gave her a push, forcing her into the kitchen and onto one of the mismatched chairs. “You, his poor, widowed Aunt Maybelle, are going to call him up and tell him to meet us somewhere else.” He saw her phone peeking out from her purse. He pointed the gun to the purse. “You can take it out now and start dialling.” He walked across the apartment then, taking a peek out the window and checking the streetscape. “Tell him that you’re heading to his school and to meet you there.” He didn’t seem too stressed by what he’d seen outside, so he moseyed over to her. “Once that’s done, I’ll figure out what to do with you, but for now, I just need to get the kid. Got it?”

May couldn’t respond. How did he think she would do what he was asking? She was dead either way; she was coming to grips with that, but that she’d play a part in luring her baby to his capture and death? This man had no soul.

Someone knocked at the door for the second time in, May checked out the clock on the stove, this had been going on for barely five minutes?

He straightened up. “Well, it looks like the party is about to start.” He pulled his gun from her head and slid over to the door. He disengaged the safety from his gun and—

The thought flashed through her head. “Wait! I was waiting for delivery for dinner! It could be Cameron!”

“Cameron? You know your delivery guy’s name?”

May shrugged, “When you cook like I do, you get to know the people who are feeding you.”

He snorted at that. “Fantastic.” And then he thought for a second. “What does Cameron look like?

Thinking hard, she blurted out as accurate a description as she could. “I don’t know!? Middle aged, starting to thin at the top... maybe a little soft around the middle.” The words were no sooner out of her mouth when she panicked. “No! You can’t kill him! He has a wife and two daughters! Please don’t—“

He raised the hand not holding a gun up in surrender. “Chill, Maybelle. I can’t have carnage piling up in the hallway, can I?” He shook his head, almost like he was disappointed in her, “You know, not all villains are bad people. You should really watch how you judge—especially in this day and age.”

May wondered what sort of alternate reality she’d fallen into when—

Three hard knocks on the door distracted them from the conversation.

“Right, Cameron.” The man tucked his gun back into his pants and grabbed May’s wallet off the floor, “Who is it?” He called through the door.”

“Um, it’s a delivery for May Parker?” the voice called back.

May tried not to panic.

“But who is it?” The man asked again, this time peeking out the peephole in the door.

“It’s Cameron from Sup Thai Kitchen, sir. Is May Parker in?”

The man looked to May for confirmation. All she could manage was a single terrified nod.

“Yup, she’s just a little busy. Be right there!” The man rifled through her identification and cards, seemingly satisfied with the interaction. He grabbed a handful of bills then smiled and gave her a wink, “You’re gonna be tipping really well, today, darlin’”

The man was insane.

And—

Happy came flying through the barely opened door, gun drawn and ready to deal with anything that came at him—including the man, who Happy recognized immediately. “Mac Gargan.” Happy growled.

Knocked off balance by the intrusion, Gargan found himself on the floor but this time, there was no banter or intimidation. Happy Hogan was delirious with anger and on top the man who’d tried to hurt the woman he was falling in love with. There would be no let up. Gun cast aside, fists flew and Happy’s years of boxing came into play and he hit—1-2, 1-2, 1-2-3-4.

For a man of so many words, Gargan was silent except the grunts of pain as Happy rained down fury. He tried to fight back, but his hits were impotent to the rage.

And then the man found an opening, managed a shove and nothing more, but it was enough to free him from cage Happy had locked him into. Breathless, he crab crawled away, hitting a wall within seconds—having nowhere else to go.

It was over.

Happy stood over the man, panting from the exertion, but looking no less lethal.

And May sat still in the kitchen chair.

Happy gave her a quick glance, eyes barely lingering over the cut on her cheek. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, yes.

Happy looked down at the man and then back to her. “You’re phone’s dead and you left your charger in my car, again. I think we’re gonna just pick you up an extra, okay?”

She nodded again, yes.

Happy pulled his phone from his pocket, barely noting his bleeding knuckles as they brushed along his lapel. “I’m just gonna make a call and take care of...” He gestured to the man who had—

Reached behind himself in Happy’s distraction—grabbed his gun and moved to aim—

*thwip*... *thwip-thwip*

All three of the apartment occupants looked to the now open window where a maskless Spider-Man was crouched and holding the weapon that Mac Gargan had almost used to shoot...

“Dammit, Peter! I thought I told you to make for the cabin!” Happy yelled at the unmasked vigilante.

“I was gonna! But then I tried to call May and couldn’t get through so I figured she’d forgotten to charge her phone again so I came over to check and then, well, this—“ Peter wiggled the gun between his fingers.

Happy sighed in frustration and looked at the now webbed and muzzled Mac Gargan, literally stuck to the wall. “Yeah, fine then. I totally had that under control, though, kid.”

Peter smiled big at him, “I’m sure you did, but now we can all ride together, right?” He looked over to May and then back to Happy. “You brought the big SUV that’s parked out back, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, kid, that’s the one.”

The casual conversation seemed a tad too surreal for May, who suddenly remembered, “He said more are coming! We’ve got to go!” She jumped up from her chair, seemed to forget how to stand, and listed sideways into the table.

“May, honey, maybe you should stay sitting for a minute. Let me take a look at you, okay?” Happy helped her back into the chair with a gentleness only May knew and crouched before her, assessing. “Pete, you wanna grab her a glass of water?” Peter moved to the cupboard as Happy prodded at the wound on her face.

May batted his hand away. “But he said he was only the first!” She grabbed Happy by the lapel and gave a weak shake. She needed to convince them to run. “He said that we’re on the news!”

“May, May... sweetheart, listen to me.” Happy was firm. “SI security has set a perimeter around the building. No one is getting in. We’re safe for now. Just drink some water and we’ll get you to the cabin, okay?” He poked at her face again; she didn’t stop him.

A glass of water appeared from over her shoulder. Happy nodded at wherever it came from and then pressed it into her hands. “Do you need some help?”

She shook her head, no, and took a shaky, tentative sip. And then another.

“Pete, why don’t you go grab some clothes for the two of you and save us a trip back later, ‘kay?” Happy said quietly.

She couldn’t see Peter, but assumed he’d nodded because he was plodding down the hall, past the man, Gargan—and adding another blast of webbing on him to be sure.

The kitchen was quiet.

A few minutes passed.

“Feeling a little more steady?” Happy whispered.

She nodded ‘yes,’ so Happy started talking. “You’re gonna need stitches here, love, but I want to get you out of the city more. Are you okay with some butterfly stitches in the car or do we hit the med bay at the tower before we got to Pepper’s?”

She couldn’t find an answer.

“May?” Happy cupped her chin to look more closely at her, “Are you okay?”

She thought about it for a second, almost nodded another yes and then stopped herself. “He was going to kill my baby.” She breathed back. Her eyes filled, “and he expected me to just... give him to him.”

He brushed his fingers along her cheek, bloody and swollen, and so much like that man—but not. “I’m guessing that didn’t go so well?”

May chuckled as she fought down the sobs. “You know? I always wondered how I’d be if... if...” and then she couldn’t fight them anymore.

Happy pulled her into his arms and she grabbed on tight to him. “I used to wonder if I was ever really gonna feel like a real mom to him, you know? He was so small and afraid when he first came to us and then he never called me...“ She pulled in deep breath, trying to stay calm as she spoke, “Tonight, if I had to, I’d have died for him, Happy. I would have!” An edge of hysteria was bleeding into her words.

“You didn’t have to, though. Everyone is safe and we’re gonna get outta here, okay?” He held her closer still.

She shifted, burrowed into his chest and savoured the feeling of safety for a minute more. She took a couple of deep breaths, steeled herself for whatever came next, and pulled away.”

Happy groaned as he stood up fully again, and again pulled his phone from his pocket. “I’m just gonna take a second to get some guys up here to deal with this shit here, ‘kay?” He waited for her to acknowledge before he stepped away to make the call—leaning over to scoop up her wallet from the floor as he did so.

Peter chose that moment to come from the bedrooms, two backpacks hanging off his shoulder.

May thought he looked upset and she imagined how devastating all of this must be for him. She extended her arms to embrace her nephew. “Come here, honey.”

Peter dropped to his knees in front of her and wrapped his arms around her middle. “May, I love you so much.” He choked out.

“I love you, too, Peter! It’s okay.” She comforted him. “Pepper and the others will get whatever this is sorted and you’ll be back out there before you know it.”

He pulled back to look up at her, “May. I’m so sorry—“

“No-no-no—don’t you dare apologize for this,” she scolded.

Peter looked to her with an earnestness she’d never seen before. “No, May. Let me speak. I heard you!”

May was confused.

“When you were talking to Happy, I heard you! And I’m so sorry that I didn’t make you understand!”

“Peter, honey, what are you talking about?”

“May, I love you so much—and I didn’t even think to call you mom because—“ Peter teared up and pressed a hand over his heart. “I didn’t because May already meant mom in here.”

“Oh.”

“If anything had happened to you today, you’d have thought I didn’t...”

May reached forward and pulled her son back into her arms. “Sh-sh- it’s okay now. We’re okay, and I love you, too, baby.”

They stayed that way for a while, mother and son comforting each other, only pulling away from each other when a contingent of SI security and SHIELD agents came barrelling into the apartment to collect Mac Gargan.

Peter provided the solvent necessary to get Gargan free of his web constraints and within minutes, the man was being whisked away to whatever hole she hoped he’d die in.

Happy approached May who, to be completely honest, was feeling a little overwhelmed with the day. “Are you ready to go?”

She smiled tiredly at him. “Yup.”

“Okay, Pete! Can you grab the bags and May’s purse, please? We’re gonna hit the road.” He looked at May again while he gave instructions. “And can you grab some juice or soda for your aunt? She’s still lookin’ a little peaky.”

“On it.” Peter responded and he headed over to the fridge.

“And you, Mrs. Parker, are comin’ with me.” Happy leaned over and with a grace belied by his size, swooped her up in his arms. “I think we’re gonna keep a close eye on you for a while, if that’s alright?”

She gave a weak smile. “I might be okay with that... for a little bit.”

Peter popped up beside them. “Okie-dokie—I think I’ve grabbed everything. Let’s blow this pop stand!”

The three of them made their way down the stairwell, and out into the street, the atmosphere so different from when she’d been out only a short time ago.

“Hey, May?” Peter called up from ahead of them.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Is that Cameron back behind the barricade?” Peter sounded excited. “Please, please tell me you ordered Thai?”

 @febuwhump

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader Deadly Voice Part 34

Hi guys - sorry it has been so long, it’s been really hectic with exams and very intense last minute revision, and then just pure exhaustion so I apologise for the long wait!

I’m not overly happy with this chapter, but I’ve been sat on it for a while so I’m just posting it and moving on, so I hope it’s alright!

Enjoy!

Warnings: Violence, slight cursing

Masterlist

I knocked hammered on the dark front door of the tall, boarded up building scowling at it as I waited for a response. There was silence. No response.

I growled in annoyance, feeling the anger that had fuelled me on my way here begin to ebb with this setback. Could I really be surprise though? The whole street appeared deserted, and most of it plunged into darkness due to most of the street lights being broken or non-functional. Had Rebecca lied to me? After she had managed to control her sobbing enough she had managed to blubber out a response to my question.

She’d had told me that Jake had mentioned a meeting this evening at this address. Had she lied, or had I just missed them? It seemed a bit dingy and derelict, but then – for his now, apparently illegal activities, it ought to be perfect.

I pondered my options on the doorstep of the dark building, scanning up and down the road behind me for any signs of life. No one seemed to be around, but it didn’t put me much at ease. I was very well aware this was quite a dodgy neighbourhood and I didn’t want to hang around on the streets for too long in the dark. I was going to have to give up soon; however, I knew where Jake lived. As much as my fury had seemed to die down to non-insane levels, I was still angry with him and more than pissed off. I was going to confront him whether it took all night. I would then also find out whether Rebecca had lied to me – then I could deal with her as needed.

I stepped back from the door and moved down the path, heading away from the towering warehouse and roughly in the direction of Jake’s flat. As I passed an alley at the side of the dirty brick building I just happened to glance down it, only finally registering my observation when I moved on a few more steps.

There had been cars down there.

I stepped backwards, retracing those I had just taken, until I stood squarely in the entrance way of the alley. There they were. Cars parked where the alley opened up at the back of the warehouse where deliveries would normally be made. There must be people in there.

I snuck quietly down the alley, glancing around the small makeshift car park as I emerged, just in case anyone was hanging around. It was empty. I made my way further round the building, hugging the wall, and not noticing the purple sports car tucked between the large vans and SUV-like vehicles littered around the tarmac.

I walked up to a small back door at the top of a few steps that sat next to a loading bay.I knocked smartly, vaguely registering in the back of my mind that only a few months ago I would never have had this bravery – I mean this was likely to be an abandoned warehouse full of criminals and convicts.

No one answered, but I wasn’t giving up this time. I pounded determinedly on the door – they weren’t going to ignore me.

I didn’t have to wait long then before the door swung open and I had to quickly step back to avoid being taken out with it. A tall man with broad shoulders and a large chest filled the doorway dressed in a smart shirt and jacket, his face cold and intimidating.

He seemed to be expecting someone taller because he had to drop his gaze to meet mine, his face then forming into a scowled at me “What?” he asked harshly.

I tried not to flinch at his bluntness, or recoil from his strong glare. “I need to speak to Jake Riggen.” I told him clearly, fighting any wavering in my voice and only too aware he was probably double my weight and could probably easily lift me over his shoulder and dump me somewhere even more unpleasant.

He raised his eyebrows at me with a patronising look - as though I was a 5 year old trying to be part of the adults groups – clearly not buying my brave act or the idea that anything I wanted was important enough.

“Why?”

I sighed in exasperation at this; I didn’t want the third degrees from him. I fixed him with an annoyed glare. “Because I need to talk to him.” I said simply, refusing to tell my life story to barbarian before me.

He stared at me for a while, possibly considering if he should remove me, do as I asked, or just completely get rid of me with the gun tucked away in his jacket pocket. I tried to search my brain for a way to convince him that I needed to be allowed access to the out-of-bounds club.

“How’s Frost’s neck?” I asked him casually, trying to act unfazed by his intimidating stance and the hand he seemed to be moving to his jacket pocket – like I spent my whole life round his type. He paused at my comment, a look of surprise masking his scowl momentarily. The fact that I knew Frost - and knew about his recent injury – seemed to change his previous decision and he dithered in the doorway slightly - obviously still not convinced he should let me enter, but I was also someone who seemed to know more than I probably should.

“Wait here.” He said gruffly, before shutting the fire door on me firmly. I waited impatiently, shifting my weight onto one leg and tapping my thigh as I pondered what he was doing – was I going to be greeted by numerous guns or just told to take a hike? Or would I actually be allowed inside?

It wasn’t too long before I heard the door mechanism click again and it swung open to reveal Frost in his usual black suit. “Thought it would be you.” he muttered at me, but I could see the humour in his eyes.

I smiled at him innocently, “Gotta miss me!” I quipped back with a grin. He seemed a little taken aback by my teasing mood, raising an eyebrow at me, but let it slide, instead furrowing his brow at me,

“What are you doing here [Y/N]?”

“I’m here to have a little chat with Jake Riggens.” I informed him calmly, trying to keep my face and voice as passive as possible, trying to not appear innocent and not like I was about to murder that boy. I couldn’t see he didn’t buy it and he raised his brow at me in question again. “I just want to clear something up.” I defended raising my hands in surrender, “That’s all.”

He still didn’t seem completely sure, but he gave me a small gesture and turned back into the corridor, allowing me to follow on behind. The man that had originally opened the door stood just inside - pressed up against the wall to allow us to past - and I couldn’t manage to fight back the little smile on my lips as he watched me in surprise as I wandered behind his boss at complete ease.

I followed Frost through short corridors and large cavernous rooms, all dark and dimly lit so I could barely see what was around me and was forced to keep my eyes on Frost’s back so I didn’t lose him. Finally Frost stopped, causing me to nearly walk into him thanks to my poor vision. I looked around his wide frame to see a dark coloured door in front of him that blended in with the dark walls except for the metal door knob and outline of light around the edges.

Frost turned slightly to me, “You should probably wait here.” He told me before he opened the door. Upon doing so the small corridor I stood in was flooded with the dim light from the room the rumble of men’s voices reached me, though I couldn’t see anyone. Frost stepped out and I remained where I was, automatically doing what Frost told me watching the small section of the room I could see from my position - which was empty except for cardboard boxes pushed against the back of the wall –until the door closed on me.

I quickly became impatient with waiting and I could still feel the same odd craziness that had taken over me before coming back and taking over my sane mind. Heck, he hadn’t ordered me to stay – it was only a suggestion I thought wildly, before - against my better judgement and Frost’s warnings – I pushed open the door as quietly as possible, stepping lightly into the room.

The room was larger than I had thought and I looked around quickly taking it all in and I suddenly knew I had made a terrible mistake. What I hadn’t see in my quick glance was that the concrete walls were painted purple and, as I turned to the left to see the rest of the room, I saw that an area towards the back of the room filled with numerous chairs, most of which had been arranged in front of a large dark desk. The walls around this area were purple, but they also had ‘HaHaHa’s written over them in green, white and red as well as bullet holes and unusual splatter marks of red that I didn’t want to think about too much.

The chairs were filled with at least a dozen men in varying clothing styles from suit and jacket to filthy t-shirts and muddy trousers, and even the odd fancy dress costume. As well as this, more men stood around, leaning on the walls either side or lingering on the side lines.

As I stepped into the room, I flicked between the profiles and backs of heads that I could see, eagerly searching for Frost as my only form of protection, no longer feeling as brave as I had been outside. A whole room of these men was different to one guy on a doorstep, plus he might be here.

I continued to move closer, feeling my hands becoming clammy and my heart rate increasing slightly at my nerves. A couple of the guys angled slightly in my direction caught my movement and stood up or straightened, suddenly on alert and each drawing some sort of weapon, pointing them at me. This then triggered the rest of the men to do the same, the room descending into silence, expect for the clicking of the safeties off guns and the sound of switchblades opening. I froze in fear, knowing one more movement could end my life.

The movement of the men had caused a slight parting of the crowd and I could now see Frost directly in front of the desk, his back to me. He seemed to stiffen as everyone reached for their firearms, though he didn’t turn to look, because he didn’t need to – he knew it was me.

“Do we have an intruder, boys?” Came an all too familiar voice in Frost’s direction and I felt myself cringe at the horrible mistake I had made, I’d been praying that though they were in this room – clearly decorated by him - he just might not be here. “Frosty, be a dear and move – I want to greet the brave man.”

Frost reluctantly stepped to the side revealing the Clown Prince lounging on a large leather revolving chair, his feet up on the dark wood desk, crossed at the ankle. “OOhhWhhhooWhooo!” He chuckled in surprise, kicking his legs off the table top and sitting upright when his eyes landed on me, “Or should I say girl!” he exclaimed, drinking me in as I stood awkwardly alone in the middle of the room.

  I didn’t say anything, just remained still and silent.  “Come closer doll!” he called smoothly, gesturing me over to him vigorously, “I won’t bite” He promised as I took a hesitant step forward, “That is unless you ask reeeaaalll nice!” He sneered. I flinched at his remark but continued to move towards the table, feeling all eyes and points of weapons. The Joker waved lazily at them and they slowly lowered their weapons, some sitting back down, but all still alert in case I wasn’t alone.

I now stood directly opposite the Joker, only the desk separating us, and I could see the change from the last time we had met. His hair was combed neatly back and his face was less gaunt, his cheeks bones still prominent like always, but it looked like he had actually eaten something rather than surviving off alcohol. He wore a smart dark red shirt that hung open half way causing his gold chains to standing out stark against his alabaster chest.

“You know gate-crashing is considered rude princess!” He chided mockingly, shaking a finger loaded with golden rings at me, making a tusk-tusk noise. He then suddenly grinned at me - so widely his eyes crinkled and were basically closed. He seemed to be back to his normal self, as if I had never left, as if we’d never kissed the other day and he had fled. I didn’t say anything; just stood there stony face and his smile faltered and fell, instead, looking at me slightly irked.

“Humph.” He huffed, “not in the mood to play huh?” He asked and I still didn’t say anything. He sighed again in exasperation like I was the most boring thing in the world, rolling his eyes and his neck in a clockwise motion before he swung his head back to face me. “What brings ya here then, doll?” he asked politely, though I wasn’t about to be led into a false sense of security.

“I’m here to talk to Jake Riggen.” I stated with any bravery I had left.

The Joker gave me a dramatic look of surprise, “Ooooooo….” He dragged, before glancing around at the men around us, “The kitten knows what she wants for once!” He mocked, addressing the henchman. They knew what was expect of them and they smirked or grinned stupidly back - though none of them dared to say anything – they were well trained.

“Whattaya want with him, doll?” he asked leaning towards me across the table whilst I fiddled with my hands, unsure how I usually held my arms under his intense gaze.

“I – He – He owes me an explanation.” I stuttered him, not wanting to have to explain everything to him. I could see in his eyes that he wanted to probe deeper into the mystery and I begged him internally not to. Maybe something in my expression got to him somehow because, after staring at me in thought for a few moments he broke away, tapping his chin with his pale hand as if pondering my wish, “hmmmmm…” he muttered, “Alright. You can have him. Try not to break him though doll – he has his uses - occasionally.” He said dryly, as though this was rare. He gestured absently at the wall of men and they parted to reveal Jake who had been stood at the back of the crowd, slightly apart from the rest of the henchmen – as though he wasn’t comfortable being part of them. He seemed skinnier than the last time I saw him, maybe it was the stress of working for the Joker, or maybe it was just in comparison to the rest of the large, burly guys around him. He appeared to be in a state of shell shock due to the sudden attention on him and – I was glad to see – embarrassment.

I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do now so I ignored the Joker’s last comment and walked through the sea of men who watched my every movement - most now no longer on alert for danger, but not giving up on the chance to stare at a girl. The eyes felt like they were burning my skin as I suddenly became very conscious of how I walked and I heard a faint growl behind me that I didn’t turn at, but I noticed the eyes were diverted away from me and I could breathe a bit easier.

I stopped in front of Jake, trying to keep my focus on him and not glance at the other men around us, “Can I have a word privately?” I asked quietly, my voice stiff - the sight of him just reminding me of everything he had done to me.

He nodded reluctantly and turned away, me following on behind as he led us away from the criminal’s meeting and back through the door I had entered through. We turned off soon though, entering a corridor I hadn’t been down before. We passed several doors, some open and revealing boxes and crates stacked against the walls, some shut and labelled with things I couldn’t read through the dim light. They clearly had something against good lighting – not that I was 100% sure that I wanted to know what was in these rooms – it was most likely illegal.

Eventually we stopped and he turned the handle on a door to our right, pushing it open and standing aside to let me past. I scowled at him as I walked past him, not letting his gentlemanly manners mitigate any of my anger at him. He followed after me, closing the door behind us and hitting a switch which illuminated the room in a bright artificial light. It was blinding to both of us after the poor lighting elsewhere and we both squinted as our eyes adjusted.

The room we stood in appeared to be a relatively small storage cupboard. The back wall was lined with floor to ceiling metal framed shelving units, most empty but a few contained cardboard boxes. We stood in silence for a few moments, I watched his face, noting that the harsh light did nothing for his scrawny appearance, illuminating the bony shadows and making him look emaciated. Jake, however, was clearly feeling very awkward and seemed unable to meet my hard stare. Neither of us was sure how to start. Eventually Jake spoke up, “If this is about-“

“Before we start,” I interrupted sternly, holding my hand up, “I would like you to remove any weapons.” I told him, “I don’t like feeling this vulnerable.” I confessed, playing the part of the innocent little girl but I glared at the back of his head as he obliged, emptying his pockets of a gun and knife and removing another switch blade from one of his boots. He walked over to the metal frames and placed them on an empty shelf before returning to where he had stood opposite me. I nodded in silent thanks.

He looked at me nervously, like a child waiting to be yelled at but I didn’t say anything. I just continued to stare at him, wondering how he had the gall to do it to me.

“[Y/N], what-“

“Why did you do it?” I snarled at him through gritted teeth.

“What?” He asked taken aback and flinching slightly from my sudden snap.

I eyed him dangerously, silently warning him he better just tell me the truth and not give me some fake crap. I could feel conflicting emotions in my head batting backwards and forwards as to whether I wanted to patiently wait this out, drawing the apology from his - but possibly breaking down into an emotional wreck again - or to give into my wrath I could feel pushing me, let it take over and not take any crap from the scrawny boy in front of me.

I could quickly feel which side was winning, even his voice seeming to jar and vex me. Jake must have sense my mood and notice the threatening way I watched him as he suddenly seem to become very cautious, like he was worried I had gone insane.

“Look, if this is about the whole Penguin thing, I-“ He started, shrinking back slightly and raising his hands in defence.

“The whole Penguin thing?” I mimicked back at him childishly, “You mean the thing where you not only sold me to the Penguin, but also just happened to basically sell me to the Joker as well?!” I asked, my voice breaking slightly when I spoke about the Joker, trying to force myself into my more emotional side, worried I would do something rash otherwise.

He kept silently opening his mouth, trying to desperately come up with an excuse for his actions. I turned my eyes away from him as the edges of my vision began to blur, instead focusing my eyes on where the floor and wall by his left foot. “I could almost understand all that though,” I sniffed, talking at the ground, “It was your job after all.” I admitted quietly, pausing a second as I tried to swallow the lump forming in the back of my throat. “But then to hear Rebecca – To think you would –“ I stuttered, fighting against myself.

“What are yo-“ He began.

Next thing I knew I was lunging at him and, taking him by surprise so that we both fell. I managed to somehow catch my balance and remain upright, however Jake continued to fall back, trying to break his fall by flinging his arm back, but not managing to stop his head from hitting the wall behind him.

“YOU TOLD HER I SLEPT WITH HIM!” I roared at him. I was shocked by my action, but I was rolling with it now, no longer able to fight my more dominant side of insane anger that seemed to rear its head all too often at the moment.

Jake flinched at my scream and gasped as he placed a hand of his head, grimacing at the pain and looking up at me warily, only to recoil when he saw me towering over him, breathing heavily down at his collapsed form.

“[Y/N], please - don’t-“ he spluttered, his eyes wide with fear, lifting his free hand in a weak attempt to appeal to me through my hysteria, but shrinking none the less under my wild eyes. In the back of my mind I wondered what he was talking about and I followed his gaze which was focused on my right hand. I was holding the Joker’s blade. I vaguely remembered fiddling with it in my pocket but had no recollection of drawing it. Yet as I watched myself spin the knife in my hand I couldn’t help but grin. in my hand as I shifted my weight from foot to foot, feeling the strong flow of adrenaline in my veins and unable to keep myself still

“Why?” I hissed through gritted teeth, shifting my weight from foot to foot, feeling the strong flow of adrenaline in my veins and unable to keep myself still and advancing slightly towards. He cowered further against the wall. God what a wimp I thought maliciously as I stared daggers at him, waving the knife dangerous in his direction

“Wh-hat?” He stammered, too focused on my movements and the blade to pay attention to my words.

I lunged at him again, so I was now crouched in front of him, extremely close, the knife blade at his throat, but angled so the tip pressed up into his jaw causing him to lift his head so had to look down at me. “I said” Enunciating slowly so that he got the message, “Why did you lie?”

His eyes were full of fear and he couldn’t hold my gaze, instead looking anywhere but my face and attempting to see the blade below his chin – though what good that would do I didn’t know.

He gulped under the pressure of the blade and I felt it move weapon in my hand. “I  -I “ He faltered.

“YES?” I snarled impatiently, pressing the steel harder so it the edge dug further up into his skin.

“I was jealous!” He cried out, closing his eyes against the pain and I noticed his hands clench into fists against the floor.

“Keep going…” I pressed him, spinning the tip of the knife lazily against the skin under his jaw. He sharply inhaled in pain but I didn’t let up.

“I – I liked you.” He told me, his jaw clenched in pain, “But you just up and left me!” He gasped, his eyes scrunched up at the sting. I pushed my pressure upwards and he was forced to throw his head as far back as possible, “I- I never heard a word from you again! So I joined up with th-the J-Jo-oker, told him- him w-where you were!” He cried, his features contorted in pain, “Ne-next thing I hear is you making out with that creepy clown!”

That snapped me and then next thing I knew I had retracted the knife from his jaw, only allowing him a short respite before I plunged it into his left upper arm. He cried out in agony and I relished the noise – it felt good to hurt someone that hurt me – it soothed the open wounds he had caused – like applying a cooling ointment.

I kept my grip on the handle of the blade and leant in so my cheek was close to his and my lips at his ear, “Ya’ know – you’d be no good in an interrogation” I whispered seductively, “ – you crumble too easily” I sneered before I wrenched the knife out of his flesh and unfolded myself back upright. I admired the red that painted the steel as Jake reeled off a continuous stream of curse words, rocking slightly in agony as he clutched at his arm in an attempt to stem the freely flowing blood that began to soak his shirt.

I shifted on weight back and forth on my heels, pondering what to do next – I wasn’t done yet.

“Fancy this, Doll?” Came a smooth voice from behind me and my gun was offered up next to me. I grabbed it and pulled but it didn’t come with me, instead there was a sharp tug on the other end and I was spun around to face the green haired devil behind me.

His face lit up when he saw the oddly crazed look on my face and his grin spread wider than I’d ever seen when he saw the freshly bloodied knife in my hand. “How about a trade?” He bargained and held his free hand out for the knife. I raised an eyebrow at him and placed the dirtied knife in his open palm. His long pale fingers closed over his, stark white against the crimson liquid, and I felt him release the gun which I abruptly pulled to my side.

He grinned at my eagerness and gestured to the side of me at Jake, “Continue…” he purred.

I gave the Joker one more sceptical look – unsure what he wanted – before I twisted back to Jake who still sat crumpled against the whitewashed wall.

I could end him now. Kill him with a single shot.

I lifted the gun to him, pointing it at his head, then dropping it to chest.

A shot rang out and I heard Jake scream, blood now pouring from his foot. I pocketed my gun and turned around, content.

“Not finishing doll?” Came the polite intrigue from my left, I threw my head over my shoulder at the Joker who was leant, arms folded against the opposite wall – clearly having settled in to watch the show.

“Too easy.” I stated, “He needs to suffer.”

And with that I left the warehouse without a pause.