#it's pretty good otherwise so i'll probably finish it but i am gonna stay mad about it

[recurring-polynya]

if you, as an author, create a minor character who is important to one of your primary characters, and then kill them off so the main character will be sad, know this: i hate you. i am biting you. i hope you get a hangnail and that the grocery store is out of your preferred plant milk.

[giorno-plays-piano]

You were all I wanted Part 2

Pairing: mob!Peter Parker x plus-sized!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, swearing, kidnapping, human trafficking, non-con, minor character's death.

Words: 2655.

Summary: You are bought by the head of Stark crime family for a kid he cares about.

Part 1

P.S. Peter is an adult!

__________

It had started. You could feel the sudden shift in atmosphere when Peter dropped his hand to your cheek, touching you awkwardly as if he were afraid you would disappear once he got more passionate with you. He caressed you gently like a lover, and you felt miserable. The only boy who had ever set his eyes on you was a young mobster who owned you as of you were some soulless object.

"You're so pretty." His whisper was barely audible, his face so close to yours you wanted to shut your eyes.

You needed to relax. No one - even a boy like him - would want to deal with a mad fury. He'd just shoot you: among other things on the table there were there was an actual gun. You needed to keep this guy happy, and maybe Peter would still be sweet with you once he got rid of his virginity.

But then he suddenly stopped and pulled away from you.

"Oh no, what the hell am I doing?" He laughed awkwardly and scratched his head. "Sorry, I didn't mean jumping at you like that. So you wanna take your shower or maybe eat some more?"

You took your eyes elsewhere and did your best not to wince. Keep it cool, breathe, don't push the boy off.

"Can I have some alcohol?" Your voice sounded pathetic.

"Of course!" Peter jumped again and rushed to the drawer. "I have some whiskey and vo... shit, I'm stupid, who the fuck gives vodka to a lady? I'll bring you a bottle of champagne, just a sec!"

He was at the door in a matter of seconds and you gave him a puzzled look. This Peter boy was unpredictable. He grinned at you and went out of the room, locking the door behind him.

You were still on the bed, watching your feet, afraid to move. Technically, in front of you was a regular door with a simple lock and a door handle - if you could find something heavy, you could break it.

Well, actually, you could just snatch that gun from the table and make a few holes in the wood. The problem with that was that you were inside Stark Tower, that ugly building that looked more like an abandoned factory rather than a graceful skyscraper. How many Stark's guys with guns were there? How far would you make it?

You could also put a gun against your head and pull the trigger...

You shivered and stood up, walking to the bathroom. You refused to look at the table.

Stripping yourself of all those lacy undergarments with shame and dropping them to the white floor, you sneaked into the bath and turned on the water, trying not to look around too much. It felt like there were cameras everywhere to record you, naked, miserable, and frightened, so you finished showering as fast as you could and wrapped a towel around youself. Could you take that towel, actually? Was it for you? Would Peter want to see you naked on the bed when he returned instead?

You wiped away more tears running down your face and slowly removed the towel, putting on the lingerie they gave you before the auction.

"Hey, where are you?" Peter's voice rang loudly behind the door. You could feel he was distressed.

"H-here!" You quickly grasped your palr pink silk robe and put it on too, carefully sneaking back to the room to see the boy with a bottle of Moet & Chandon and two champagne glasses in his hands. Huh, classy.

"Oh, hey." He smiled, a bit embarrassed at his outbirst. "I, uh, found this. I hope you're going to like it."

"Thank you, Peter." You murmured softly and saw him grinning wider when he heard you saying his name for the first time.

Although normally you didn't drink much, you heard about your friend's sexual escapades when she was totally drunk many times and assumed everything could go easier if you had enough champagne. Maybe then you would simply forget you were brought to Stark's Tower and forced to have sex with a guy you had never met before.

Peter had already opened the bottle with a loud noise and poured the sparkly golden liquid into the glass, handing it to you. You brushed your hand against his unintentionally and thought how warm he was.

"I'm not good with these things, but, um, I'm glad I met you today." He had that radiant boyish smile on his face. When he raised his glass, you raised yours too, barely understanding to what you were saluting. "I'm so happy from now on you're gonna be here with me."

What a romantic. It would be almost sweet if he didn't hold you here against your will.

"I'm happy to meet you, too." You made yourself smile, and the two of you clinked your glasses. You drank all the champagne in one big gulp, not afraid to appear unladylike and caring only to get drunk faster. You didn't eat much, so it had to be easy enough.

Peter repeated after you with a little laugh and filled the glasses again and then again until you didn't start feeling funny and your shoulders finally relaxed, the alcohol removing all the tension from your body like some magical elixir. When the boy reached out to touch your shoulder, you didn't flinch, feeling his soft lips pressing against yours in a gentle kiss.

It wasn't that bad, you thought. He was being very tender with you, taking his time to unfasten your robe with his fingers trembling from excitement, and then kissed your temple. He trailed his kisses down to your neck as you let out a loud sigh, biting your lips, then burying your fingers in his soft disheveled hair. Peter's subtle touches felt good.

"I'm sorry for hurrying these things up." He said suddenly with guilt all over his pretty face. "I really am, but I have to show the guys you're my girl. They won't understand otherwise, and we might get in trouble."

"It's ok." You kissed his cheek, watching his eyelashes tremble. "Maybe I'm going to like it. You're nice, Peter."

He looked at you with wide eyes, his lips curling into a wide smile once more at your words as he reached to unfasten your pink bra.

"I don't have much experience, but I'll do my best to make you feel good." His breath tickled your face when the boy cupped your breasts, enjoying the softness of your body. You loved that look of adoration on his face.

"Do you have any?"

"I do."

What, really? That high schooler already had his virginity taken by someone else?

"Kids these days." You mumbled and he suddenly pinched your cheek. "Ouch!"

"You're not allowed to call me a kid!" Peter said with a pout, drawing little circles around your nipple and grasping your plump hip. "Only Mr. Stark can. Besides, I'm like year and a half younger that you, so I'm going to call you a little girl then, y'know?"

"Wha... ahh... Peter." You inched him closer, enjoying the way he played with your breast and kissing him in return. "But you look so young, huh."

"And you look like a schoolgirl without your makeup." He chuckled and gently sucked your lower lip, his left hand caressing your soft belly. You tensed immediately again, but the boy lowered you on the bed and kissed your forehead, staring at you from above with loving  eyes. "Please don't be shy. I like you. Every part of you."

You stayed silent, but your eyes were gleaming with tears when you threw your hands around his neck and inched Peter closer, kissing him more. He rested one of his arms close to your pillow, the other one travelled down your body to squeeze your belly gently again, then went closer to your pussy, forcing you to open your legs and caressing your clit covered by the thin pink fabric of your panties.

"I can take care of you." The boy cooed softly at your ear and pushed them to the side to touch your already slick folds. "Do you want me to? Do you want me to take care of you?"

"Yes." You moaned when his fingers rubbed your clit and closed your eyes, losing yourself in the moment. "Please, please, Peter, take care of me."

"I knew you'd be a good girl." He licked his lips impatiently and picked up pace rubbing your clit to make you wail under him. "Yes, like that. I'm gonna teach you to cum from my fingers, and then I'll use that tight little pussy of yours, yeah? Would you like that?"

"Yes, yes Peter, plea... ahhh."

____________

The next morning was peaceful - you woke up to the boy's soft snoring behind you, his hand draped over body. Well, you weren't sure you could keep calling him that since he was actually older than you thought and, uh, way more experienced. If you tried to recall all the things he did to you last night, you could die of shame, probably.

The alcohol helped a lot. Firstly, it was so much easier to blame it for all the pleaser Peter gave you - of course, it was all the alcohol's fault, you couldn't possibly enjoy having sex with someone who thought owing a human being was okay. Secondly, the alcohol allowed you to play the role of a sweet little thing to perfection as you never even once pushed Peter away, probably leaving him satisfied with your submission. If he was satisfied, maybe he wouldn't get rid of you first thing in the morning.

You shivered at the thought and realized you didn't hear his snoring anymore.

"Good morning." He yawned, sneaking closer to you and pressing his face into your hair. "Did you sleep well?"

"Good morning, Peter." You found the strength to gently caress the back of his hand laying on your belly. "Yes, thank you. Did you?"

"Are you joking?" The sound of him giggling made you relax a bit. "I think the last time I slept so soundly was when Aunt May was still alive."

You went quiet, staring at the white bathroom's door across the room. So, the woman he told you about yesterday was dead. You could imagine she was the one who raised Peter, but withour her to take care of the boy - who could be very young at that time - he ended up with Stark's crime family. Then it made sense why he didn't behave exactly like those vultures surrounding his boss as he most likely didn't grow up on the streets of New York.

Were you pitying the man who was holding you captive here? Yes, yes you were.

"Does it hurt?" He asked in quiet voice and touched your lower belly tenderly.

"A little. But not as much I thought it would."

He moved his hand up and cuddled you, kissing the top of your head. You hoped it was a good sign and you wouldn't end up in a ditch in the evening. Was Peter going to keep you here as his personal toy? It was humiliating to even think about that, but anything seemed better than dying to you now.

He let you stay. In fact, he had never considered letting you go after Mr. Stark bought you - you were Peter's girl now, right? So he did his best to accommodate you in that room where he lived, providing you with clothes, shoes, cosmetics and all the things you needed, a laptop included. Of course, there was no wi-fi or anything that could help you to connect to the outer world, but Peter recommended you strongly against it. You've already seen enough that made it impossible for you to leave - Mr. Stark would never take it kindly if you tried to run or, God forbids, go to the police. It wasn't just your life at stake, but the life of your family, too. It was embarrassingly easy to find out everything about them, including where they lived and worked, of course. Tony could kill them with a snap of his fingers.

Though you weren't allowed to leave the room, Peter promised he would do everything to give you more freedom a bit later. The guys needed to trust you before they would grant you permission to move freely around the building - not that you really wanted it. Who in the right mind would walk the Stark's Tower full of deranged criminals?

Anyway, the place where you were now was mostly comfortable - you could watch TV and play video games if you were bored; Peter also brought you a pile of books and magazines, and he was always providing you with nice food. Honestly, you expected something way worse than that.

It was the end of the third day when the boy returned with a box of pizza and a few bottles of Starbucks frappuccino, his usually cheerful expression turned all gloomy and tired. Something must had happened, but you were not sure if you were allowed to ask him that - you had never discussed the things he was doing outside of this room.

"Hi, Peter. How was your day?" You stood up from the bed and took a box and bottles from him, placing them on the side table close to the microwave. Before you could turn to him, you felt the boy kissing the back of your head.

"Tired." He mumbled and step back, taking off his bomber and sneakers before moving to bed and sitting down. "I've had a hell of a day."

"I'm so sorry. Do you want me to draw you a bath?"

When he looked at you, you saw him chuckling warmly as he motioned you to come closer. You lowered yourself on the bed, too, and Peter kissed your lips, then grinning and laughing like a kid.

"You don't know how happy I am to have you, Baby. You're sweet and smart and, uh, you don't want to run from me because you know there's no good in that."

Maybe his words were intended as a compliment, but you shivered and quickly placed a fake smile on your face. You had already figured out Peter was not even half as sweet as he seemed. What did you expect from him being Stark's favourite?

"Did something happen, Peter?" You knew you were going to regret asking that, yet you felt like you had to. You needed to pretend your relationship with him were genuine.

"Mr. Stark shot Amanda." The boy shooked his head sadly.

"Who?"

"His new girl. The one he bought at the same auction as you."

That immensely beautiful woman with her eyes deep as ocean and hair dark as night? She could easily be the world's next beauty queen, and he killed her? He killed an innocent woman who, besides that, was stunning, graceful and perfect and walking on air?!

"I mean, of course she brought it on herself when she whored with her guards to make them let her go, but, shit, I don't like it when Mr. Stark kills his girls." Peter covered his face with his rough palms and rubbed his eyes as you stared at him, terrified.

"Does he... does he kill them all?"

"Not all of them... but most."

You heard youself sobbing and clamped a hand against your mouth right away, tears pouring down your face. Your pathetic attempt to hide your fear failed as Peter leaned closer to you, taking your hand away and kissing your eyelids to shush you. He rubbed your back reassuringly and let you put your face against his shoulder.

"Don't worry, Baby." That was how he called you now. "You're not his girl, you're mine. This will never happen to you because I love you a lot and you're smart, right?"

_________

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