#why was your salesperson confused when I walked into your store full of glasses and asked if I could please buy some glasses
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Third time getting glasses from a specific chain of stores. Each time a different store.
Third time things turns out suspiciously more expensive than expected.
Third time they fuck up the specs on the lenses and are baffled, absolutely baffled that I wanted glasses I could use for what I said I needed them for.
#please let this be the time I learn#why are these glasses you say are worth six times what I'm wearing significantly worse than ones that I've dropped 20 times#why was your salesperson confused when I walked into your store full of glasses and asked if I could please buy some glasses#who the fuck puts a blue light filter on all lenses above a certain thickness and doesn't tell people?#“we work with the German Diabetes Aid Net--” You colored the entire world sepia and made me think I was going blind#rant#I'm very frustrated#it's common knowledge their frames are worth 20 bucks at most#lenses are worth pennies#maybe euros if they're made here#and I know people who worked there and the pay isn't great#which explains the quality and issues but not the price#nor why the budget optician I've been seeing has better products than this “oh but we're EUROPEAN MADE” essilorluxxotica branch
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Diamonds Are A Girl's Best Friend
Title: Diamonds Are A Girl's Best Friend
Summary: The reader is a jewel thief who had to steal to survive but she can't quite kick the habit.
Note: Based on @crue-sixx head canons for Jewel Thief and Home Again.
Warnings: Swearing, theft, sexual references, implied assault in jail
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It was only the necessary items at first-food clothes, medicine when needed that you’d steal. You have to survive somehow after your mother kicked you out at age 12 for being too rebellious and not following the teachings of the Bible. She had called you a harlot and every other name she could think of that was synonymous with “promiscuous”. You didn’t even cry or get mad when she tossed you out with nothing but the clothes on your back, you even felt relieved that you wouldn’t have to put up with her anymore. You had hitchhiked from Chicago to wherever the wind took you, stealing some books to keep yourself educated to some extent.
The problem was that you were good at it-so good you’d never get caught, not even once. It was in your 19th year on this earth that you wanted to raise the stakes a bit. You were tired of living in shelters and bridges, and you wanted a place to call base of operations where you could plan out heists and lay your head at night. It didn’t have to be fancy you just needed a roof, a floor and four walls plus some shitty furniture. You had stolen yourself a book on tools you’d need for bigger jobs and you were pleasantly surprised when you found that you could find all of them at any hardware store. Of course you’d have to hit different stores for each item you needed so you wouldn’t be seen as suspicious.
You collected your tools of the trade and went to scope out a jewelry store. You glanced up towards the ceiling and saw some security cameras-nothing too fancy or sophisticated but you’d still need to black them out with spray paint when you snuck in later that night. You saw a lot of hot items, but you needed to pick and choose wisely. You cruised by the rings and necklaces, appearing not to be particularly impressed by any of them. But in reality you were looking for ones you could easily steal, and declined service when a salesperson asked if you needed any help. “No, just looking” you smiled at them “Window shopping”. They understood and thanked you for walking in, wishing you to have a good day and please come back.
That night you wore all black biking gear, including a helmet that masked your face-more of your stolen merchandise. Your lock picking tool worked like a charm, as did your glass cutting tool. The mini-plunger lifted the glass up to give you easier access to your treasures. Your mouth watered as you felt the rings in your hands. You shook off the feeling because you knew you had to get out in a few minutes, bagging over half the store and absconding to a shady pawn shop you knew of, but never went in-the rumors were that the owner never asked any questions as to how you came in possession of the items you were trying to pawn, and other rumors said that this guy wasn’t a snitch. That he worked with rich bitches all the time, who bought his wares at three times the price he bought at.
You walked in, the bell on the door giving a ring. “You Elias?” you asked the sweaty, dirty pig behind the counter.
“Who’s askin?” he grunted.
“Sunshine Rainbow” you answered, the name you gave everyone who asked. It wasn’t your real name of course, you only told that to those you trusted and you trusted nobody.
“What you got for me, sweetheart?” he smiled, the teeth all sorts of colors other than white. You let ‘sweetheart’ slide as you dumped your haul onto the counter. The man’s eyes widened as he inspected each one “These are brand spankin’ new!”
“Yep” you said, belching and wiping your nose “Fresh out of the mine” he looked like he wanted to ask questions, but decided against it. He did have a reputation to uphold after all, and he wouldn’t let anyone tarnish his ‘good’ name on the underground.
“What do you want for it all?”
“Everything you have in your till, and everything in your vault if you have it” you said, not breaking eye contact with him. He contemplated the ups and downs for the whole situation and thought it would be worth it.
“I have a more reputable business during the daytime. I can sell this stuff for three times what I’m paying you” he took out all the bills in the till-only about $300 tops, but when he came back, he had two full bags of big bills. Internally you were freaking out-you felt like you’d won the lottery! On the outside you were cool as a cucumber and seemed unimpressed.
“I suppose it’ll do for now” you picked up the bags and left. He didn’t offer you a deal to sell your goods only to him, and even if he did you knew not to take such a deal. ‘Cause he’d rat you out sooner or later to the cops or even feds. So you took your winnings and boarded a bus to L.A. and got off across the way from the Whisky-A-Go-Go, the music going on inside shaking the building. It sounded loud, rude and aggressive-just the way you liked it! So you splurged on yourself this one time and bought a ticket to see the show.
You were at the bar sipping a drink when a blonde woman plopped next to you and looked over. A whistle came from her mouth but her voice was manly. “Hot damn that’s a pretty ring you got on that pretty finger of yours girl!”
You looked over to see that the blonde woman was indeed a rather feminine man, but still a man none the less. You hadn’t realized that you were wearing a piece of your loot, a deep blue sapphire in a pure silver band. You were kicking yourself for such a slip up, but you had to play it cool “Thanks, I got it for myself when my boyfriend dumped me.”
“Aw shit honey I’m sorry” his face wrinkled in sympathy “Well if you need some place to forget all about him, my bed’s always open” he winked at you, and you took him up on his offer. It had been a while since you had gotten some good dick and needed to relax a bit. He grinned widely and took one of your bags “What do you have in here, bricks?!” he joked with you.
“Isn’t a gentlemen not supposed to question a lady about her personal affects?” you joked back.
He laughed so hard he snorted “I ain’t no gentlemen” and lead you to the apartment he shared with his friends, who just so happened to the band that was playing that night. They all seemed pretty cool, even the grumpy old man was kind of nice to you.
“Hey!” the drummer excitedly asked “What’s your name! You’re smokin’ hot!” he was bouncing around like a kid in a candy store.
“Sunshine Rainbow” you said, to which the rest of them raised an eyebrow “my parents were hippies” you explained, then they understood “Call me Sunny” you giggled.
“Alright Sunny” the drummer said “I”m Tommy, blondie over there is Vince, the grumpy old dude is Mick and this dude right here” he put his arm around the other man’s shoulder “is Nikki. My brother from another mother!” you all laughed, this little unit was like a family of sorts.
“So what brings you all the way to L.A. from Chicago?” Nikki asked.
“Just lookin’ for a place to live out on my own” you said ���havin’ a hippie family is great an’ all but I want to strike out on my own” you raised your beer and they all clinked bottles with you in agreement.
“I think one of the apartments in the building just opened up for rent” Mick said in his low, monotone voice “You can talk to the landlord tomorrow, though he’s a bit of an asshole” he warned.
“That sounds great! I’ll do that!” you thanked him profusely. This shithole was the perfect place to lay low.
Vince buried his face in your neck and groaned “If I remember right, we were supposed to have a little fun by ourselves, right?”
“Then take me to your lair and have your way with me, Rockstar” you let him lead you to his room, unbeknownst to you he had motioned with his hand and mouthed the words ‘look in the bags’ to his friends.
While you were in there rockin’ each other’s worlds, Nikki and Tommy went to inspect your bags. Mick protested with “Hey now, that’s not cool! What she has in there is her business!”
“Oh lighten up Mick” Nikki scoffed “She might have some drugs in here or something!”
Tommy laughed and said “Or we can just swipe a pair of her pant-” he stopped cold when he unzipped one bag. He went slack jawed and closed the bag, unsure of what he just saw.
“What is it T-Bone?” Nikki asked “It’s not a dead body is it?” he was half joking, but hoping that you didn’t bring that mess into their apartment.
Tommy slowly unzipped the bag and showed him, whispering “she’s fuckin’ loaded!” there was an unknown amount of large bills.�� Even Mick was curious now and staring at the cash, unzipping the other one to show even more money.
“What the fuck?” Nikki asked, all three of them looking at Vince’s room where loud, animalistic noises were coming from.
The next morning, you came out of Vince’s room wearing one of his shirts, the other three at the table awkwardly eating breakfast. “There’s more on the counter if you wanna eat...” Mick offered.
“Thanks” you said cheerfully, then winced in pain “if he normally that rough?”
They couldn’t help but snicker and Nikki answered “Sometimes, but from the sounds of his snoring it seems like you gave him a run for his MONEY” he put unusual emphasis on ‘money’.
Tommy caught on and added “Yeah, with moves like that you could make BANK! I haven’t heard Vinny curse like that in a while! You must fuck good!”
“What the hell are you two babbling about?” you asked, totally confused.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ” Mick said, tired of beating around the bush “Where the fuck did you get all that money?!”
You stopped eating and put the fork down. Why did you make such a rookie mistake to leave your loot out in plain sight? You should have gone to a cheap motel first and left them there! You had no other choice than to say “Ask no more questions and I’ll give you one bag” they all stared at you in disbelief, but they had bills to pay and drugs to snort so they agreed to the offer. As if none of that just happened you said happily “So when does the landlord come in today?”
It took them a while to answer but Mick eventually said “At 10am...”
You smiled and said “Thank you for your cooperation” and gave them all kisses on the cheek, picking up one of the bags and leaving the other as promised. They didn’t know whether to be flattered or frightened. So when you left and Vince heard the door close, he came out of his room, having overheard everything.
“What the fuck was that about?” he asked, sticking his thumb in your direction.
“Those bags were full of cash...” Nikki said, shaking “she gave us one and asked us not to question her about it anymore...”
“You’re shittin’ me” Vince shook his head in disbelief and went to inspect the lone bag himself. When he opened it, he too was in disbelief “Well I’ll be damned...” was all he could before he got his bearings “all this cash belongs to us now?”
“That’s what she said” Tommy nodded. “How do you think she got it?”
“Looks like she knocked over the National Mint!” Vince suggested.
“Or maybe she killed her parents to collect the insurance money!” Nikki added.
“She could be a hit man for the mob!” Tommy was now freaking out “It’s probably blood money!”
“Who cares how she got it?” Mick asked “I got child support to pay, our rent and all our other bills. This should be enough to hold us over a few months” he narrowed his eyes at all of them “if you three don’t snort it all away...”
They did have reservations taking the money, but they really needed it-$400,000 total and they split it equally. Mick hid his share so well that sometimes even he forgot where it was, but he’d always find it in time when the child support came due. You were now fully moved in, paid up for three months rent and the landlord gave you the eye but said nothing, as it wasn’t his business and he got paid. You did have almost daily contact with them, and they seem to have eased up on the anxiousness and eventually acted like they completely forgot. It wasn’t like you were going to kill them if they went snooping around but you’d have a lot of explaining to do. They were like mold-they grew on you. You eventually learned all of their birthdays, and surprised each one of them with a very expensive piece of male oriented jewelry when their day came.
They all seemed taken aback by such fine things, but they wore them anyways to be nice. You were now working at a bookshop, making minimum wage. You couldn’t work for those wages and still keep even that shitty apartment so you had to do a few jobs a month to stay afloat. Sure you’d saved enough to practically buy the building if you wanted, but that would draw unwanted attention to yourself. And you never stole from your neighbors: It was like shitting where you ate. It was disgusting and you didn’t do it just because it was a rule of thumb. Shit, you even stole more than you needed to help the other tenants. It seemed like you were becoming a modern-day Robin Hood.
It was on your last job that you’d been caught-by Tommy no less. You had just gotten the loot and ran away, only to bump into him. You fell backward and your treasure had fallen out of the bag. The rest of the guys came up to see the commotion and you scooped up your lot and put it back in the bag, looking sheepishly and ashamed. “Is THIS what you’ve been doing?!” Tommy asked loudly.
“Keep your damn voice down! You’ll trigger the-” then a loud blaring alarm screeched in the area, scaring you all running back to the apartment complex.
When you all were safely inside, Nikki pushed you against the wall and said “Sunny. Explanation. Now.”
You sighed and said “I’m a jewel thief. I’ve stolen things most of my life to survive” you didn’t feel bad about stealing from the rich. They had that shit insured so if it did get stolen they’d still get their money.
“That don’t make it right” he said “You need to stop stealing shit, or it’ll get you in big trouble one day!” he was now almost shaking with rage.
Vince put a hand on his shoulder and said “Hey Nikki calm down...you’re scarin’ her...” Nikki took a moment to look at you and Vince was right-you were scared that they might hurt you. He released his grip, almost crying at the red marks he’d left that would turn into bruises.
“Take a deep breath Sunny and tell us everything” Mick said in a concerned fatherly tone. So you did-about your mom throwing you out at 12, you having to live in shelters or under bridges and that you stole small stuff to stay alive. Then it became for the adrenaline rush when you had a consistent roof over your head. You had recently gotten more hours and a promotion at the bookstore so you were making a little more than you needed to make rent and buy some things you needed.
“Are you gonna turn me in?” you asked, giving your best innocent doe eyes.
“No” Nikki said “As long as you stop stealing and act like a normal person” he extended his arm for a handshake.
“As long as you guys stop doing as much coke” you added as you smirked.
“Hey” Vince said in a stern tone “Us doing drugs is merely for recreation. We can stop anytime we want to” both Nikki and Tommy agreed, all three of them a little offended by the comment.
“If that’s the case then so can I” she took Nikki’s hand “Then we got a deal.” Mick just sighed, knowing how this song and dance goes all too well.
All of you had your little slip ups-your second nature kicking in when you walked past an open-air market, a small trinket would end up missing from a vendor. Whichever man was with you looked at you in comic disbelief when you denied taking said trinket, then chuckling to himself as you produced what it was that you stole and put it back on the vender’s table. Overtime you had weaned yourself off your habit; Tommy, Nikki and Vince making an effort to slow down on their drug use.
Then, the mother of all jewels came to town and you just had to look at it. The Tiffany Diamond would be on display at the Metropolitan Museum for a few days only. You just wanted to see it for yourself and you made Vince come with you. When you two saw the brilliant yellow diamond, you had to make it yours. Vince saw the look in your eyes and dragged you away with “Oh no Missy. I know that look!” he had to be a little more forceful to get you away from the thing you desired “You’ve been doing so good! I’m so fuckin’ proud of you babe!”
“Alright, alright” you assured him “I was just lookin’” you pulled him in for a kiss, the two of you had been fucking for a few months, the sex was like a replacement behavior for the stealing. You weren’t exactly a couple-you really didn’t care who Vince gave his cock to and he didn’t care who you let fuck you. But it was always the best with him, he knew what the fuck he was doing while other dudes just wanted their satisfaction met and you out the door. “I think I need and appointment with Dr. Feelgood. Is he in?”
“He’s always in baby!” he pulled you to the nearest alley to administer the latest dosage of dick.
Later, after dark had come and they were partying at their place, you put on your thief gear and assured yourself “One last time, then I’m done for good!” When you got to the museum, you were quiet as a mouse, slipping in and out of the rooms like a shadow. You saw the yellow diamond in it’s case and the light hitting it just right. The rush you felt made your mouth water and palms sweat, you had cut the glass and had taken it out of the holder. Then, an alarm sounded.
You were such a fucking idiot. The display was pressure sensitive, the moment you lifted it up from the holder you triggered the alarm. You were surrounded in less than ten seconds and cuffed and being led to the office where the owner of the diamond was called and asked if he wanted to press charges. He did and you were taken to holding for a day, then your half-hour trial where you plead guilty on the promise of a reduced sentence in exchange for information about all the stolen jewelry you sold and who you sold it to in L.A. You were given four months in a minimum security federal prison. You deserved this, they told you to stop but didn’t listen.
After your four months were up, the prison transport dropped you off in front of the apartment. You didn’t want to even look at another piece of jewelry, if it meant going back to that hell hole. You had witnessed and been subjected to unspeakable horrors while you were in there. Nobody visited you, but you didn’t blame them-they probably didn’t know. You didn’t make your one phone call. You were too ashamed to admit you did the one thing you promised you wouldn’t do. You just wanted to go home, but first you wanted to see your friends. You had fresh and healing scars on your body, the most recent from an attempted stabbing to your heart, thankfully it only grazed the skin.
You knocked on the window and Nikki looked over to see who it was. You waved sleepily, while his whole face lit up and said “Hey shitheads! Sunny’s back!” you heard running footsteps and Tommy slung open the window to let you in.
“Where you been?!” he hugged you tightly to him “We’ve been so worried about you!”
Vince had come out of his room, another girl coming out behind him. He saw you and tried to hug you too but you stopped him “Go shower blondie!” you ordered.
“What?” he said sarcastically “I can’t hug my favorite fuck buddy?”
“Not while you’re covered in some other bitch’s sex juices! Shower! Now!” you tossed a towel in his direction.
“Fine” he said laughing “not like you’re any cleaner!” he went and showered, came back in five minutes.
You were all sitting at the table when Nikki asked “So where were you these past few months? We had to threaten the landlord to not rent out your unit!”
You looked at them all long and tired before you spoke “Federal Prison” the jovial mood dropped completely.
Vince took a while to put the timeline together and scolded “Sunny you didn’t...”
“I tried” you admitted “and failed. Horribly” you took a swig of beer.
“Why the fuck didn’t you call us?!” Tommy got up “We would have visited you!”
“I was too ashamed of myself” you half expected Mick to chime in with ‘as you should be’, but he didn’t say anything. You really didn’t care if they kept up their end of the deal, you didn’t expect them to. And from the multiple bloody tissues around the apartment you were right.
They had all noticed your new scars on your face, arms and hands but knew better than to mention them. “Fuck...” was all Nikki could say.
You were tired and just wanted your bed. Vince tagged along and followed you there “Vince, I just got out of jail. I’m tired. I don’t want to fuck” he took your hand and interlaced the fingers.
“I don’t wanna fuck either” he bought your hand to his lips “I just wanna hold you” the look in his eyes was sincere.
“Alright” you relented. When you both got under the covers, he stroked your hair like a lover would.
“What happened in-”
“Please don’t ask about it” you cut him off. Maybe you’d tell him one day, but not anytime soon.
“Okay, Sunny” he said, taking in your scent.
“Y/N” you corrected him.
“What?” he looked at you in confusion.
“Y/N. Sunshine Rainbow is a name I give to people who I don’t trust” you laid your head on his chest.
He wasn’t even mad, given your history that you’d told them. He even understood to an extent. He ran his finger over the scars on your arm. “When you get better” he said “I’m gonna kiss every single mark on you and make it better.”
You looked up at him and said “You better make the next session last longer then. There’s more scars on me than you can see” he started to tear up at that.
“I promise baby. I’ll take my time and make sure all of you gets my attention” you didn’t last after that, cuddling into him like a needy child. You were sound asleep in his arms. “Sweet dreams, Y/N” kissing your forehead and falling asleep himself.
#imagine#fanfiction#motley crue#submission#motley crue imagine#motley crue fanfiction#motley crue x reader
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Her Thrift Shop
Hey babes! This is an entirely innocent, fluffy oneshot about a reader who works in a thrift shop after school that happens to be right by where her crush, Peter Parker, walks home everyday! They have a few minor interactions before Tony Stark forces Peter to confront his feelings for the reader one day in the shop. I hope that you guys like it!
Her Thrift Shop
The thrift store in which she worked was right smack in the middle of where Peter Parker often walked home. She smiled, balancing her chin on top of her hands as she leaned against the sales counter that she manned, fondly reminiscing of her favorite Peter sightings.
The first time that she had spotted him, Peter had been walking home with his best friend, Ned, while she dragged a rack of clothing outside. They had made direct eye contact from two opposite sides of the street and she’d stumbled over the rack’s wheels, while Peter flat out walked into a streetlamp. She’d done her best to politely stifle the giggle aching to bubble out of her throat, but Ned full on cackled at Peter’s expense. Even from across the street, the girl could tell that Peter was strawberry red. Shoving his palms into his pockets, he paced ahead while Ned was still bent over laughing.
The second time, Peter was walking home with his head bent down, bobbing his head along to the music that coursed through his headphones. She noticed him from inside the shop, peeking her head out from behind the mannequin that she was attempting to wrestle into a figure-hugging dress. She sighed, pausing her frantic movements to walk as Peter peacefully walked by.
He just looked so damn cute all the time. His hair was unruly from the gusts of wind that filtered throughout the city, and his blue sweater looked soft and warm, and she was ready to bet her entire existence that he smelled of clean laundry. She noticed that Peter’s jeans were rolled at the bottom, and her heart ached. There was hardly anything she wouldn’t give to be with him. At this point, she’d settle for a nod of a hello, or a wave, anything that allowed her bask in Peter’s acknowledgement of her existence.
“That’s a cute boy,” her much older co-worker commented loudly from behind her. “Do you know him?” She questioned, wiggling her brows up and down and smirking at her.
The girl’s coworker happened to be her only coworker. The woman owned the tiny consignment store and only had enough money to employ one other salesperson, which happened to be her. The woman was in her early 60s but flirted as if she was still a teen. She was sharp, and witty and never allowed the store’s uniquely vintage merchandise to go for less than it was worth. Utter and complete warmth resided in her eyes, and she was happy to help people create the perfect outfit. Goodness, as well as happiness, radiated from her being. The girl smiled, knowing that her friend was the kind of adult that she’d like to eventually grow into herself. However, she refused to inherit the woman’s brashness in these sorts of situations.
A ferocious blush overcame her features and she quickly averted her gaze and went back to forcing the tiny dress down the hips of the mannequin. “No, he just goes to my school. We haven’t even said two words to one another.”
“Oh, that’s peculiar because he’s got major heart eyes for you right now,” the woman commented, nudging her younger companion’s arm. “Look, say hello!” She began to wave at Peter, much to the girl’s dismay. “Hi sweetie!” The lady called out to Peter’s bashful form across the street.
“No! Oh my gosh, he’s going to think I’m such a weirdo!” The girl cried out, burying her face in the dress.
“Honey, the only reason that he’d think you’re a weirdo is because you aren’t waving back.” The woman shook her head, “he’s absolutely precious, don’t fuck it up! For goodness sake, wave!” She commanded and finally, the girl did, unable to meet Peter’s eyes. The girl did, however, take note that Peter was waving hello back to her.
Her third and final favorite Peter sighting was when she was rushing to park her car, hurriedly taking the first spot available on the side of the street opposite to where the thrift shop sat. As the girl hastily clambered from her vehicle, she’d been so quick to slam her door shut that she had nearly wrecked her hand in the process.
Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut and the girl could feel tears welling up, but someone caught her hand before she could inflict any harm to herself.
“Did it get you?” Peter’s worried, brown eyes peered down at her. “I- I tried to stop it, but it was just so close.” He stammered, cupping his hands together to examine her for damage that he didn’t prevent.
“Peter,” the girl started, coherent words were coming very hard for her at this point in time, “I didn’t even see you. How’d you get here so fast?” Peter was bright red and the girl could tell, judging by the heat she felt all over, that she was too. She mentally chided herself for being so careless. The girl just couldn’t believe that the first conversation that she had with the guy of her dreams would be taking place right after she foolishly almost broke her own wrist.
Peter shook his head as a mumble escaped his lips, “was close to you, but not in a creepy way, I just happened to be walking home and I saw you, and you were there, and your car-” he rambled, still holding her hand.
She cut him off, “thank you, Peter. I’d be in a whole world of hurt without you.”
Peter’s blush only intensified due to the sincerity dripping from her words, he couldn’t even bring his head up to meet her gaze. “Course, least I can do for the pr-, you.” He cut himself off as fast as he could before she realized that he was going to inform her that she was the prettiest girl in their entire high school. Truth be told, Peter had made up his mind that she was positively the prettiest girl to ever exist.
She gestured to the thrift shop, “come in sometime, we’ll hook you up with some neat, vintage apparel!” She cringed inwardly, cursing herself for speaking like an advertisement in front of Peter.
“Yeah! Yeah, totally, definitely, yeah!” Peter said, awkwardly letting her hand go, “I’ll just, yeah! You know, schools have dances, and whatnot. I’ll see you sometime.” He shrugged his shoulders as they each turned to go their separate ways.
“See you soon?” She questioned as Peter smiled and waved, worming his other hand into the pockets of his hoodie, “And Peter? Seriously, thank you again for saving me from my own lateness,” she laughed.
Peter beamed at her, holding eye contact as he backed away from her, a genuine smile sweeping across his features, “It was my pleasure!”
He watched as she ran across the middle of the street and yanked open the thrift store’s door. She turned and waved to him one last time and Peter did the best he could to not skip the rest of the way home. She had literally just told him to come back and see her. He was going to do everything in his power to create some sort of reason for their paths to cross again.
The girl was forced to exit her daydreams when the front door’s bell pinged, alerting the young girl that customers were entering the little shop. She smiled, opening her mouth to begin welcoming them inside, but when she turned, she took note of who her patrons were and froze, her eyes wide open. Standing the thrift store’s doorway stood a grinning Tony Stark and an evermore timid Peter Parker.
“Peter?” She stuttered out, confusion lacing itself into her tone. Mr. Tony Stark had a nearly endless supply of cash, and she was aware that he’d gotten Peter some expensive items before, so wonder coursed through her body as she tried to figure out why it was that they stood in her tiny, vintage consignment shop.
“See,” Tony said, nudging Peter’s chest with his elbow, “she does too know you.” Peter turned around and she could hear him utter a soft, but powerful, string of curse words as Tony ambled up to her counter. “Hello there, we’re here looking for an outfit for the upcoming school dance, got any ideas?”
Her brows knitted together, “But Mr. Stark, our next school dance is months away?” She fiddled with her necklace, snaring her lower lip between her teeth.
“Ah yes, well, this was all just a clever ploy to get Peter through the door so he could actually talk to you instead of talking everyone he comes into contact’s ear off about you.” A soft gasp fell past her lips as Tony continued, “I’m just going to leave him here. Do what you wish with him, I’m sure that he won’t mind.”
As Tony turned on his heel and neared the door, Peter looked as though he was exasperatingly attempting to communicate something to him, which Tony blatantly ignored, mumbling a, “you’ll thank me later,” as he allowed the door to slam behind him.
After a few moments, Peter turned to her, redder than she’d ever seen him and said, “you know Mr. Stark, he likes his grand entrances and exits both.” Peter did his best to laugh off the bucket of embarrassment that he was currently drowning in, and he made a show of locating the men’s section and sifting through racks of clothes.
From her safe space behind the counter, she knew that she could either do her job and try to actually get somewhere with Peter, or, she could remain behind the glass and rot with the regret of not even trying with him for the rest of her life. Plunking up every ounce of courage that she could muster up, she decided on the first.
Making her way over to where Peter’s body was obscured by articles of clothing, she called out, “is there a specific era that I can help you locate, sir?” She asked, a small smile teasing the corner of her lips.
“I- I, uhm, sure,” Peter stuttered out, his nerves taking control of his body. “Could you help me find something that’ll make me look like Marty McFly?”
She laughed and before she could stop herself, she grabbed Peter’s hand and began guiding him through the endless abyss of clothing to the 80s section. He did his best to ignore the way her hips slightly swayed in her velvet miniskirt, and ignore how floral and sweet she smelled, but Peter couldn’t help but follow her puppy eyes.
“So, here we are at the-” the girl started, but Peter quickly cut her off.
“Do you wanna maybe, shit, I interrupted you,” he dropped his eyes and shifted slightly away from her, “I know that the next dance is a while away, but when it finally gets here, would you want to possibly, maybe, go with me?” He scratched the back of his head and scuffed his sneakers against the floor.
She gasped, her heart rising into her throat, “yes! Yes, yeah, totally! Peter, I’d love to go to the dance with you, but until then, do you maybe want to go to the new art exhibit right around the corner? I get off in an hour or so, if you don’t mind waiting, or if you do, you can come back, or you know, something.”
Peter perked up immediately and began nodding his head wildly, “I’ll wait for you, if that’s alright with you.”
“Of course,” she smiled, moving in closer to Peter, the adrenaline of asking her crush out on a date fueling her to be even more daring. “But only if,” she leaned up onto her tiptoes, her mouth not even a few centimeters away from his, “I can dress you like Johnny Castle from ‘Dirty Dancing’ instead on Marty McFly.”
Peter slipped a delicate arm around her waist and breathed, “if you move a little bit closer, you can dress me however you want.”
Doing as Peter had suggested, she eliminated the space between them, giggling into the first of their many kisses inside of her thrift store.
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