Construction worker!Bucky who collapses on the couch after a particularly hot day at work. No shirt. Jeans tossed somewhere. Just a pair of boxer briefs across his thighs. He's debating if he's going to leave them on or not. Trying to will himself to get a cold drink from the fridge but its so far away (not even ten feet).
He feels a cool breeze on his heated face. Pure bliss. It gets even better when a cold piece of ice slides across his lips. Bucky groans your name, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. His eyes slowly open to find your pretty face staring down at him. A glass of water in your hand, condensation rolling down your fingers, splashing on his chest. You're too good to him.
"Marry me."
"The heat really got to you didn't it?" You laugh but he's serious. He'll ask again, once he peels himself off this couch.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Lloyd Hansen, Steve Rogers
Summary: Your knew neighbour has no shame, but you find more than you can handle.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
You can't stay still. You're melting down. You know this is bad. Very bad, and despite know you should feel nothing but guilt and disgust, you're still horny!
You could scream, you could pull out your hair, you could just hammer your head into the wall. Instead, you just pace, around and around in circles. Despite the steady flow of central air, you're sweltering.
Will he tell your mom? What would she think? What would she do? She wouldn't punish you but you can already hear the jokes. And would she tell everyone?
You finally give in to your dizziness. You sit on the bed and cringe. The pillow you used stares at you from the clamshell chair. Ugh. There's something seriously wrong with you.
Maybe your mom had the right idea. You need to get out and you need to meet someone your own age. That seems even scarier.
You bend over your lap and whimper. You need a hole. You just want to hide there and never ever come out again. You're not a human, you're an animal. A cretin!
You can't stay there. You're shaking. You can't breathe. You need to just move. Get the blood flowing anywhere but where it's boiling.
You whip your head up and search the room. You exhale and stand. You grab the pillow and strip the pillow case off. You shove it in a basket and pile the rest of your worn clothes on top of it.
You're just going to pretend nothing happened. You're going to go do laundry and no one can accuse you of anything but that. You take the basket out into the hall and down to the laundry room.
The washer's already spinning. Hm. Must be Steve. Probably the only time he has to get a load in.
You put your basket in front of the machine. You'll come back to that. But what are you going to do now?
Reading is out. TV, nope. Going outside, never again.
What on earth are you supposed to do with yourself? A nap would be wonderful but you really don't think you can settle down enough for that. Ugh. You've gone and screwed everything up.
Screw...
Stop! Don't think about the way he groaned, or his large hands, or his thick length. Don't even wonder what it would feel like to touch it. Or how it would feel inside you? You don't think it would fit.
You're biting your lip. You're completely fucked. You have mindrot. When did this happen to you? Why are you short circuiting over a man with a mustache and at least two decades extra?
As you think, you realise your hand is between your legs. Right on your pussy. Pushing the seam against your clit.
You can't control your mind or your body. You feel like you don't own any part of yourself. You're being consumed by something well beyond yourself.
"Hey," Steve voice jars you.
You push away from the machine and face him. His time is torturous. Every time he finds you, you're about to descend into true debasement. As if he can smell it on you.
"Um, I was going to... Do laundry." You say.
"Ah. Sorry." He puts his hands on his hips. He looks you over, his expression cryptic. "I just tossed mine in. I was checking the cycle."
"Oh, it's still on spin," you say as you cross the room. "I was just going to go...erm. Write a resume..."
The lie drags off your tongue. You hope it's enough to get him off your back. If he believes you. You don't sound very convincing.
"Oh really? I got time. Need some help?" He offers.
"Um, well, I'm sure I can figure it out."
"Never hurts to have a second eye on it." He says. "I go through resumes every day. I think I could offer some sage advice."
Shit. You can't just confess that you're going to hide, hopefully as much from yourself as everyone else. You clamp your lips and nod.
"Okay, sure, I'll grab my tablet." You say.
"You can use my laptop. How we go up to my office?" He suggests.
Arguing will just keep you longer. You show your hands and shake your head. "Okay, sure. That's nice of you."
"No problem."
He doesn't move. You stare at him before you near. He shifts to let you pass. You brush against him. Oh, nope. That's shouldn't do anything... But...
You walk stiffly through the house to the stairs. He climbs up behind you and you're suddenly aware of your shorts and can't help but worry how your butt looks in the denim. Stop! Please, girl. Hussy!
His office is open. He follows you in and clears his throat.
"Go ahead. Take the chair." He says.
You go to the desk. He follows and turns his laptop and signs on. He minimizes some windows before you can read them. He opens a doc and turns it to you.
"You type decent?" He puts his hand on the back of the chair, stopping your nervous swivel.
"I can." You assure him.
"Alright. Well, got to templates. That's a good starting place." He directs with a point over your shoulder. He stands right beside you, his crotch level with your head. You try not to think of that.
You go into templates and he direct you, "scroll... Hm, oh, try that one." He leans closer and points.
You don't say a word. He has you open it up.
"Put in your name." He says.
Duh. You replace the placeholder with your name, then your email.
"Skills? Well, you must have good organisation with your school." He suggests.
You nod and type. You don't know what skills you really have. Right now, you can barely think.
The chair shifts slight as he moves behind it. He looms over you as he points around the screen and tells you what to type. There's a slow quiver in the seat.
You realise it's him. You're not sure if he's doing it intentionally but it's like he's rubbing himself on the chair. It's probably nothing.
"You take direction well. Hey, what about..." He moves forward and hunches down, extending his arm above your head as he rests it on the seat. "I might have a position you could fill. How about it?"
"What?" You blink and look at him. "I... sure. Maybe. But... I... If it's because mom--"
"No, I like your resume," he grins.
"Oh, right. Hm. Can I think about it?" You ask.
He tilts his head. "I guess but you need something to keep you busy. Away from those steamy dramas, huh?"
You flinch. "I told you..." You frown. "Um... Can I go now?"
He watches you. His eyes flick up and down. "You can't wear those shorts to work."
"Um." You swallow and lean back to look at yourself. "That's fine."
"You have any pretty dresses?" He asks. "Something... appropriate. What you wore last week... That wouldn't work either... But it looked good. Did I tell you so?"
You chew the inside of your lip. You squirm on the seat and shrug.
"Thanks, but... I... I need to go now."
"Alright, honey," he stands and you swear, not that you looked, well you did, and not for very long, but how could you not notice? But that bulge in his pants, that's more than a crease. No, no! Stop.
You get up and turn quickly as you skirt around the desk. As you do, your shorts brush against him. You don't stop to let him know you felt something, because you didn't, he wouldn't.... Not for you.
You rush out back to your room. You're demented mind is twisting everything. It's not really like that. You have a problem!
You puff as you get to your room and slide down the door. You sit, knees folded and deflate. All you know is that none of this would be this bad if your body would just listen to you.
Warning: age gap, verbal and physical abuse, dark elements….
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: silverfox!Andy Barber (mob au)
Note: If you’ve got a problem with slow burn then you’ve got a problem with me and I suggest you let that one marinate.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
"Now, you two lovebirds, don't get too wild," Everly teases as she swipes up her shopping bags and sweeps out of the car.
You stare at the dashboard, mortified by the suggestion and trapped in that lingering suspicion. You say nothing as Andy tells her good night. You peek over as she struts triumphantly up to her building. You wish you were going with her. You wish things were like they were before. Just you and her without all this mess.
You can't help but turn it over and over in your mind. What did you do to catch his attention? Why you?
It doesn't make you feel special. You feel small. You feel hunted.
Your vision smears as Andy pulls away from the curb and rolls around the arched drive to the campus lane. You lean into the door. You feel like you're drowning in yourself.
"So, what'd you get?" Andy asks.
You jolt up on the seat and look down at the single shopping bag in your lap. Everly talked you into it. She picked it out. You're not too sure about it. It's only a shirt but it's about short, a bit too obvious. A soft white with floral and snaps up the front.
https://pin.it/4aoiDCae8
"A shirt... Oh and some pens." You remember. The pens that looked like long steps tulips were too cute to pass up.
"Ah, so... Everly did most of the splurging," he intones.
"Um, well not too much," you assure him. "The receipt are in my purse."
"I told you, sweetie, I trust you."
You nod and go quiet again. You're not brave enough to say anything. You could barely find the nerve to ask Everly about anything and she said too much.
"You alright?" Andy asks.
"Yeah, you know... Tired." You rub your cheek.
You peek at him as he stares down the road. You didn't notice before. He changed his shirt. A black button up under his coat. You can smell whatever it is he uses that smells like citrus and pepper. A warm smell that soothes even your addled wits.
"College life." He says. "I barely got much sleep when I was in school. Can't say it was for studying though." He taps his fingers on the wheel as he waits at a light. "Frat life and whatever."
"Ah." You eke out awkwardly.
"Guess I outgrew that, huh?"
"I... Guess." You agree thinly.
"I wouldn't... I don't really hang around them."
"Good. I tried to keep Jacob out of the Greek life but him and his sister are identical in some things. Never listen." He shakes his head and turns the wheel.
You recognise the trees and the building with the painted balconies. You're close to the apartment. You hope you can just lay down and stop thinking for a bit.
He parks and you get out. He takes your shopping bag. You let him and he recites his usual "ladies first."
You lead the way up to the apartment and bite down on a yawn. Andy comes up behind you, startling as he reaches past you to unlock the door. He's right up against you. His heat swathes over you but you only feel colder for it.
He pushes the door in and you enter. The apartment is dim. There's flickering from just down the hall. You take your shoes off as you beat down your anxiety.
He hangs his coat and you put your purse down. He grabs your jacket and puts it with him. He doesn't say a word.
You drag you feet down to peek into the dining room. Two tall LED tapers standing on the table around a rich bouquet of red and white roses. Plates are set neatly between cutlery and a bottle of wine sticks out of a metal ice bucket. Your mouth falls open.
"Just need to warm up dinner," Andy comes up behind you and tickles up your back. "If you wanna get settled in. I figured a nice quiet night in." He kisses the crown of your head and purrs as his hand trails down, fingertips dancing at the top of your jeans. "Promise, I'll take you out for real soon."
"Um, you don't... Thank you, it's... Lovely."
It's not a lie. It's so wonderful and thoughtful. This is what women dream of. This is more than anyone's ever done for you and yet, you can't help but feel the pit in yoir chest deepen. The more he does, the more you owe him.
"I think... I'm just going to wash my face. Freshen up.$ you say.
"Sure, sweetheart. I'll be a couple minutes getting it all ready."
You flit away and hide in the bathroom. You stare at your reflection and shudder. You should be elated. Any woman would die to have a man who looks like that doing the most for them.
He's going to expect you to be happy. To be grateful.
You rinse your face and reapply your mascara and lip gloss. He went to all this effort, the least you can do is that. You swallow and make yourself leave the safety of the bathroom.
As you go to the dining room, Andy's setting down a plate. The smell of rosemary floods your nose. You suck in in, clinging to it as you try to calm your nerves.
"Smells great," you say.
"I hope so. Followed on of those tutorials online." He faces you and puts hisbhwnde on his hips. "I'll admit the most I cooked for the kids was PB and J or some mac and cheese. I had some help with that."
"No, no, it looks great," you go to the table. He pulls out the chair and you sit rigidly.
He brings his hand up to trace the line of your jaw. You wince and look up at him. He cups your jaw softly.
"You're beautiful." He says.
Your heart flutters and it's not fear this time. It's something vibrant and torrid. Your insides feel like jelly.
"Thanks." You utter.
His eyes crinkle. "You don't believe me, do you?"
"What?"
He drops his hand form your chin and grabs yours. He hangs onto you as he shifts and angles you around on the chair. He gets to his knees and runs his thumb over your skin. You look down at his bruised knuckles and your breath snags.
"Sweetheart," he drawls and your eyes flick to his. He brings your hand up to his lips. "You are beautiful. Any way you are."
He moves your palm along his beard and leans into it. He sighs.
"I just want you," he growls and his eyes flare. "I want you to want me."
He guides your hand down his thick neck and your mouth goes dry. Your eyes trail down to glimpse of his chest hair beneath his shirt. His other hand crawl along your thigh.
"Do you?" He rasps.
You gulp and look him in the face. The blaze of his irises swallows you up and you quiver. You put your hand on his as he squeezes your leg.
"Y-yes..." you stammer.
He exhales and reaches up to grab your neck. His fingers curl into your nape as he draws you down to him. He smothers you with his lips. His breath furls around you like smoke.
He parts and drags his nose up yours. "Then you can have all of me."
Warning: age gap, verbal and physical abuse, dark elements….
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: silverfox!Andy Barber (mob au)
Note: If you’ve got a problem with slow burn then you’ve got a problem with me and I suggest you let that one marinate.
Also, I feel really good getting this chapter out bc it was a bit of a struggle to get over the hump.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
It's hard to focus. Without your usual set up, without what familiarity, you can't help but feel unsettled. That along with Andy's looming presence has your attention split.
Your phone lights up again. You rub your eye and glance up, checking the time. You try not to do so often. The you get fixated on it.
It's another message from Everly. You texted her the first time that you were working on school stuff. She didn't stop.
You feel bad. You know she's still recovering and you're sure it's more than just physical. You're her friend, you should be there for her.
What about Andy?
"Hello?" His voice cuts through the silence as if you said his name aloud. Had you? "Yeah, she's here."
He appears from the front room as you sit at the dining table. You peek up as he leans on the door frame. He has his phone to his ear.
"Studying, yeah," he replies and spreads his hand across his chest.
He wears a long sleeve tee, a silver chair glimmering around his neck as he rubs and tugs on the fabric slightly. He clicks his tongue as he watches you. You sit back and scratch your elbow.
"I know, I know." His tone is agitated. "Yeah, I get it. Of course-- Evie."
He's stark warning makes you wince. You're not surprised it's her. She can be very stubborn. Now you know where she gets it from.
"Alright."
He hangs up and wiggles his phone between his fingers. You stare at him and twist your pen around.
"Everly. She wants you to go... Chill." He explains flatly.
"Oh, uh, I texted her earlier that I was busy--"
"Yeah, well, she's not the best listener. I don't mind."
You bite your cheek. You do. You have your last few midterms this week.
"Go out for a few hours, come back... We can get our time then." He assures you.
"Oh, sure," you swallow your disappointment. Of course, you owe him. "Well, I guess... I shouldn't keep her waiting."
You close up your books and stack them with your laptop. You stand but as you go to clear them off the table, Andy stops you. "Leave them. Makes this place feel lived in."
"Oh um. Okay. I just... Don't want to leave a mess." Your father would explode if you ever left your shoes on the wrong side of mat, let alone leave your things strewn about.
"Hey, this is your place now." He caress your arm, sending a shiver up your spine.
"Not really but thank you." You say.
As you side step him, he grips your arm and pulls himself in front of you.
"It is." He insists. "You really think I got it just for me?"
You shrug, "I don't know..."
"Now you know." He drags his touch down your arm and reluctantly draws away.
He clears his throat and crosses the room. You turn to watch him. You can't tell if he's annoyed or not.
He digs in his coat by the door and slides his wallet out. He reveals that same black card and returns to you. He holds it out.
"Yours." He says.
You stare at the card then blink at him. He grins.
"Don't try to give it back this time." He chides. "Don't let Everly bully it out of you."
You furrow your brow at the card. "I don't really..."
"I trust you." He takes your hand and shoves the card against your palm. "Let's get your things and head out. The sooner you go, the sooner I get you back."
💜
Andy drives you and Everly to the mall. She's looking better, less swollen, but still sports a pair of large sunglasses and hat over her loose waves. You can't tell if her hair just naturally falls like that or if she spends hours getting it perfect.
"I'll be back in a couple hours." He bids you off.
"Sure, daddy," Everly tinkles coyly. "I won't keep her too long."
You get out and wave bye. You're still tired and Everly's faded bruises bring you back to that night. You wonder how she can be so chipper. You envy her it.
You head into the mall and let her lead you around she doesn't seem to have a goal as you double back to gape through windows or for her to debate over the over-sugared cinnamon rolls.
"Maybe on the way out," she determined as she waves off the delectable treat. "Ah, it feels good to be in the wild. Shoes, bags, and oh my gosh!"
She latches onto your wrist and pulls you over to a jewelry store. A man behind the counter greets Everly, not noticing you as he stares at her. Even with her disguise, she is stunning. She has her dainty pink jumpsuit on and the jacket is cropped to show off her midriff from under her open trench.
"Oh, I have a question," she looks up from the crystal array. "Is it possibly to trade something in?"
"Well, depends. If it's real or not. Carat count, all that." He smiles dumbly at her.
"Can you tell? I really just want to know," she digs in her purse and takes out the big ring Charles got her. Another reminder that makes your insides pang.
The jeweler takes it and goes to the back wall. You wait as he uses a magnifier to examine the stone and band, fiddling with a few tools as he does his inspection.
"Does it make you sad?" You ask.
"Hm?" Everly peers down into the display.
"The ring?"
"Nah. Well, you know, after what he did, I don't give a shit." She scoffs. "Besides, I don't think the wedding was a good idea. He probably would've snuck off to see his other woman on our wedding night."
"What?!" You catch your surprise in your hand.
"Oh yeah. It's what led to all... This. I confronted him. Finally figured out why he was ghosting me with all these dumbs excuses. You know, I know most of daddy's guys so I was asking around. There's a big guy, kinda scary but he's soft on me. I asked him to keep an eye on Charlie. Got my answers..." She sighs. "Sometimes it pays to have a big bad daddy."
You squint. "What do you mean?"
"Huh?" She taps the glass. "Do you like the amethyst?"
You ignore the jewelry and step closer. "Ev," you lower your voice. "Who exactly is your dad?"
She giggles and rolls her eyes. She stands straight and folds her arms as she faces you. She tilts her head.
"He hasn't told you?"
"He said he's a lawyer." You shake your head.
She giggles. "A lawyer. Well, he is... But... I probably shouldn't say."
Your stomach churns. You feel nauseous. "Everly," you pull her away from the counter. "Did he kill Charles?"
She gives you a precious look. "Well I sure hope he did."
Your lips part. No. No. It can't be. How can she be so casual about something like that?
"Come on, Ev. He just beat him up, right?"
She looks at you and arches a brow. "Sure, sweetie."
She turns back to the counter and you follow. You bite down on the insides of your cheek. You feel like you've to been slapped. Andy isn't that kind of person. He can't be.
Well, he knew Professor Raymond. And that other man who follows you to the tea shop. Then there was the shady electronics shop. The fear in the associate's face.
The memory of Andy's bloody knuckles flash behind your eyes. You step up next to Everly and stare at the necklaces without seeing. You just can't believe it. Who is Andy Barber? What is he?
The jeweler punctures through your daze.
"Sorry, miss. Looks like it's a knock off." The guy sets the ring down glumly. "But if you see anything you like, we can knock ten percent off."
Everly squeals and wiggles in excitement. She doesn't seem too disappointed in the fake. She turns to you and tugs on your arm.
"Can I, mom?" She chirps.
You wince and curl your lip, "oh my god! Don't call me that."
She cackles and jostles you playfully.
"Well..." She hums tauntingly. Your frown. "Fine, I won't but you should get something too. Daddy needs to spoil you if he wants to keep you from running away." She turns the spinning rack of earrings. "He does hate to chase people down."
Her words blow right throw you and leave you frozen. What have you got yourself into?
Warning: age gap, verbal and physical abuse, dark elements….
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: silverfox!Andy Barber (mob au)
Note: If you’ve got a problem with slow burn then you’ve got a problem with me and I suggest you let that one marinate.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
Usually, it takes you a while to fall asleep. The nightly ritual of wading through your anxiety and listing off all the things waiting for you when you woke up often kept you awake far past the time you laid your head down. Yet, you can’t remember when you passed out. Not this time.
You don’t know if Andy was still touching you or if you simply rolled over and closed your eyes. It’s all a fog in your mind as you slowly drift up from the void. The weight of your body slowly reconnects to your brain. Your eyes roll behind their lids and your lashes stick before you peel them apart.
You inhale the scent of something woodsy, slightly peppery. Andy’s scent. Some cologne or even just deodorant. You’re not sure. But it clings to everything. His jacket, his beard, just him.
As you open your eyes, your vision is fuzzy. Your eyes come into focus on the stubble along his neck. You take another deep breath and savour that aroma that’s becoming so familiar.
You lay in the crook of his arm as his chest rises and falls slowly. Soft snores roll up his throat and fume from his nose. His other hand is on his stomach, his fingers slack.
He’s still in his undershirt, but stripped down to his boxers. The blanket is crumpled at his waist as a strip of sin peeks out between his waistband and shirt. The trail of hair makes you tingle and you close your eyes in shame.
You keep catching those stray thoughts. That little flicker in you that tells you to trace that hair up his body and see what’s under that ribbed cotton. You ball up your fist and shudder.
It’s Saturday but that doesn’t mean it’s your day off. You carefully push yourself up. You stare down at Andy, still in your jeans and sports bra, but your shirt is gone. Your skin boils in realisation.
You gulp and gently slip out from under the blankets. You pull them up over him before you turn away from him. You shimmy over the bed, mindful not to jostle too much, and look around for your shirt. It’s probably tangled somewhere under the sheet.
You stand and shiver, hugging yourself as you cross the room. You find the bag Andy packed for you. He was so efficient and fast you couldn’t stop him. Even as you bartered, even argued, he did not relent.
You pull out a new shirt and some cheap twill pants dyed to resemble acid wash denim. You bring your clothes into the bathroom with your toiletries and set to your usual routine. You brush your teeth before you hop in the shower. After you’ll exfoliate your face with the two dollar wash you found at the dollar store, then moisturise with the bargain bin tub of cream that’s lasted you the whole term.
You start the tally as you stand under the stream. Once you get all this out of the way, you should probably make coffee. For both of you. Tidy up if there’s any mess from the day before. Then you need to start your homework. Usually a second coffee before noon to stave off your appetite and about an hour after that, you’ll eat something small to tide you over.
You let the hot water slake down your chest and split into rivers along your stomach and hips. The smell of your discount soap wafts with the steam. You stretch out your fingers and tilt your head back as you sigh. You feel yourself resetting.
Click.
You flinch and lazily roll your head on your neck. It takes a moment for the haze to recede and you see the distorted silhouette on the other side of the frosted glass. You squeak.
“Hello?”
“Morning, sweetheart, just making sure,” Andy calls. “I woke up… alone.”
“Oh, sorry, I…” Your voice dissipates into the steam.
“Coffee?” He offers from the other side as you shield your body with your arms. You know he can’t see you but you feel so exposed.
“Um… okay. Yes, please,” you cheep.
“Alright, sweetheart, I’ll be waiting.”
He lingers for a moment before he leaves. His voice stays, wrapping around you with foreboding. You finish up and crank off the water. You go through your face routine quickly and dress. You battle your hair for some semblance of tidy then give up.
Putting off the inevitable won’t help.
You go out and find Andy in the kitchen. He has some striped pajama bottoms. You watch the muscles of his back through the cotton as he leans one hand on the counter and pours with another. He hums, his timber seeping deep into your brain.
You clear your throat. “Sorry, I… usually wake up early.” You mash your palms together.
He turns to you with a mug and a slight curve in his lips. His hair is mussed, a shank jutting up at his crown. He offers you the coffee.
“I used your press,” he hands over the cup. “I figured you preferred that… machines can really dilute the flavour.” His fingers brush yours before he reluctantly draws away. “But you get a good espresso machine in here, maybe a frother. We could go shopping…”
“Mm, maybe,” you accept as your eyes narrow on that thick alfalfa sticking up from his head. He sniffs and rubs his beard. You can hear the friction of his fingertips against the thick hair.
“Something wrong?” He backs up to take his own coffee. “You need sugar or cream? Milk?”
“No, black is fine,” you assure him. “You just… your hair. Sorry.” You giggle. “I’m not meaning…” You shake your head. “Doesn’t matter.”
“My hair?” His brows lower as he reaches to smooth his hair and sips at the same time. He pulls his lips off the porcelain and licks away the glisten. That gesture nearly makes you choke on your coffee. “Better?”
He smoothed out the front but the back is still a mess. You shake your head as you hide your smirk behind your cup.
“Damn,” he sets down his cup and nears you. The air shifts and your lips straighten. “Give me a hand.”
He bends and drops his head forward. You keep your hold on the mug handle and bite your lip. You shakily touch his hair and tamp down the wayward shank. Your fingers weave into his thick strands and brush down the back of his head. It’s softer than you expect.
He purrs.
“Got it!” You proclaim.
He doesn’t move. You rescind your hand. It’s only then he slowly lifts his chin.
“You could keep going…” His blue eyes stir.
Your teeth sink deeper into your lip and you shake your head again. A creaky noise scrapes in your throat.
“I like it.” He stands straight but stays close. “When you touch me. It’s… calming.”
You nod and cradle the cup with both hands, using the heat to steady yourself.
“I’m just… letting you know. I don’t want you to be afraid, sweetie. You can do anything. Ask me to do anything. Tell me anything.” He brings his hands to your waist and you wince as his thumbs press into the sides of your stomach. “Me and you can do anything. Together.”
You stare at him, unsure. You take another nervous gulp of coffee and it dribbles from the corner of your lips. Before you can catch it with your sleeve, he wipes up the trickle with his thumb.
Your eyes flick up to his. HIs pupils expand as he watches his thick thumb trace along your lower lip. The cup shakes in your hand. He pushes between your lips, just between them, and he growls.
His mouth opens slightly as his other hand clamps tight on your side. He pulls you close until the mug touches him. You bat your lashes at him in fright.
He slips his thumb out and places it between his lips. He hums as he sucks off the coffee and your saliva. You wilt as that sound plucks inside you. You can’t look away from him.
“You’re so sweet,” he lets his thumb drag down his beard.
“I… I…” you eke out. Your eyes drop at last and your existence anchors in your heels. “I have to study.”
He squeezes your side then sighs. He lets you go.
“Sure, baby,” he backs away. “You go on. I’ll get breakfast going.”
i miss you 2012 avengers. i miss you the avengers tower. i miss you irondad and spiderson. i miss you meme lord shuri and peter. i miss you loki lingering in the tower for no other reason than that he's the main love interest. i miss you poptart-eating thor. i miss you grumpy bucky barnes. i miss you old man, chronically offline steve rogers. i miss you clint in the vents. i miss you girls night with wanda and natasha. i miss you the rare bruce banner feature. i miss you sassy sam wilson. i miss you cheeky reader who always called fury by his first name. i miss you christmas avengers blurbs in the middle of the fanfiction written by an autistic 14 year old. i miss you 😔😔😔
Warning: age gap, verbal and physical abuse, dark elements….
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: silverfox!Andy Barber (mob au)
Note: If you’ve got a problem with slow burn then you’ve got a problem with me and I suggest you let that one marinate.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
Fridays are usually a relief. Not today. You barely have the energy or clarity to get through your singular class. You can’t tear your mind away from the night before. How can so little time change so much?
It’s happened before. You remember those nights you went to sleep and the next you woke up without a mother. You grieve for that little girl who believed she wouldn’t leave again. Who even hoped that if her mom did go, she’d take her with her. That never happened.
You know this is different. Andy isn’t going to leave you alone. You already told him to. You gave him every reason to. You gave him back everything he gave but he just put it all right back in your lap. His control is overwhelming and confusing.
Is it control? He’s not asking you to pay him back. He’s not making you work for it.
Not like when your dad had you scrub the floors for your first package of tampons. All the while, he reminded you how disgusting you were. He didn’t make you change three times before leaving the house; he didn’t set a timer when you went to the corner store.
It doesn’t feel like a collar around your neck. You can’t quite understand the feeling. There’s that weight of suffocation in your chest but there’s something else. A lightness. A trickle of hope. You can’t help but imagine what it could be like to let him take it all over. To just stop thinking and let Andy decide. He’s good at that.
He told you, over and over. You want to believe him but there’s that little girl crying in that empty house. He’s shown you how nice he can be, how much he can do for you, but you just can’t make yourself believe that this is more than temporary. He will leave, or at the very least cast you out. You can’t let yourself succumb to naivety. Not this time.
No, you can be cautious. Enjoy that time while it lasts. Put your pennies away for after. Make sure that there is an after.
You leave class wrapped up in your inner turmoil. As you shuffle along with your peers, following the sound of their squeaking soles, your stomach bubbles giddily. You stop at the top of the staircase and step to the side, out of the way of those impatient to top up their caffeine addiction or get started on their Friday night hurrah.
You smirk and bite your lip. There’s that needling thought in the back of your head. The naughty one that makes you want to melt to a puddle.
You’ve seen the movies about wild coeds, about all sorts of scandalous and obscene antics. Movies about professors and students breaking the rules behind closed doors, of frat parties bursting at the seams with alcohol and nudity. Everly dragged you into the latter one too many times, but the former…
An older man.
You shiver and lean on the wall as you grip the straps of your knapsack. Your chest flutters and you feel suddenly nauseous. It’s not like you never thought of men, maybe even a few women, but you just never chased it. You never thought of it being real.
You saw how it goes. You saw your father lashing out, your mother covered in bruises. Then Everly, look at how that went. And your aunt and her stories of men robbing her blind after nights out, or refusing to get off her damn couch.
This seems too good to be true. No, it’s just that early stage when it’s all perfect and pretty. Don’t let it go past that. Protect yourself first.
Don’t be like them.
Your face falls as your pocket vibrates. You dig out the phone Andy forced into your hand when he dropped you off. You’re not surprised it’s him texting.
‘Everything okay? Waiting.’
Your lip trembles. Are you really going to do this? You close your mouth and a tingle ripples over you. You can still feel his warmth and the tickle of his fingertips on your skin.
‘Omw. Srry'
You shove the phone away and barrel down the stairs. Stop thinking. This is the one moment in your life when you can do that.
You go out into the wet aftermath of the morning showers. Andy waits in front of the gate to the paid parking. You pick up your pace. He’ll get a ticket if he idles there.
You open the door and drop into the car. You gulp down a breath, only then realising you’d stopped. Andy leans over and startles you. He kisses between your cheek and temple.
“How was it, sweetheart?”
You flinch and settle your knapsack on your lap. “Um… just class.”
“Uh huh,” he sits back. “Buckle up.”
“Oh, uh, yeah,” you stutter. “Thanks for coming to get me. I… I could’ve–”
“No more buses. If I’m around or not, I’ll make sure you get to where you need to be,” he insists.
“Oh, well, the pass is part of our tuition–”
“Don’t worry about it.” He backs out and spins the wheel, joining the sluggish line of cars trawling through the oblivious pedestrians crossing without looking. “Let me worry about things, alright?”
“Mm, okay. I guess…”
“You guess,” he echoes.
You shrug. “Sorry, it’s just… all so…” your voice trails off as your phone shakes again. You ignore it. “Well, I… I’m just… tired. It’s been a long two days…”
Your phone starts again. You can hear the buzz. So can Andy.
“Who’s that?” He asks.
You lean to one side and dig out the phone. It’s your dad. You have missed calls from the days of separation from the device and more from today.
“My dad. I can call him back.”
“He’s been calling for a while…” He drawls.
You cluck and huff. “Yeah, well, uh…”
“You think he’s worried?” Andy asks.
You nearly scoffed. You’re embarrassed to let on that your dad would never worry about you. Not like that. Only what he can get from you.
You chew your lip and answer, putting the phone to your ear as you lean away from Andy.
“Hello.” You answer.
Your father grumbles.
You stare at the top of your bag. You are overly aware of the presence next to you. You sniff.
“Hello, sir.”
“Bout time you fucking answer.” He snarls.
“I'm sorry–”
“Don't give me this shit about school. I know it ain't that hard.” He snarls. “Now I been wasting my time tryna get through to you. I got bills to pay and you're not helping none. Running around at some fucking college.”
You shrink down. This is why you didn't want to answer. Your hands are sweaty as your vision blurs.
“I don't why you're fucking wasting the money when you owe me a fuckton.” He goes on.
“Hey, everything okay…” Andy asks quietly as he touches your arm.
You jolt and the phone shifts in your hand.
“What's that? You fucking around–”
The phone slips entirely and you scramble to catch it. Your thumb smears the screen and your dad's voice comes full force over the speaker. You stare in horror as his rant is broadcast for Andy to hear.
“A slut. Just like mommy, huh? I heard that. You got some boy there. Well, forgive fucking me for interrupting you. Hope you're at least getting paid for being a fucking whore–”
Andy swipes the phone before you can turn the volume off. You squeal as he scoops it up in front of his mouth, his other hand firmly on the wheel.
“That's no way to talk to your daughter.” He sneers.
“And who the fuck are you? Oh, don't you sound all tough and mighty. Bet you're 120 soaking wet, huh, boy?”
“You need to apologise.” Andy ignores your father's snipes.
“Fuck off.”
“Now.” Andy grits.
Your father guffaws. “Why? You know I ain't wrong. You're fucking her and all that.”
“I don't give second chance but you can apologise right now –”
“Or what?” Your father spits. “Having fucking fun with the leech. I don't fucking want her. Never did.”
The call clicks and Andy keeps the phone hovered just over the wheel. He taps the side button and slides it into the cupholder. You sit in silence, humiliated and hot.
He flips on his signal and pulls into the library lot. You stare down, eyes barely open as you fight back tears. He shifts into park.
You don't move. You don't even look at him. He undoes his seatbelt. You stay frozen in the passenger seat.
He grabs your knapsack and shoves it down onto the floor. He clicks the buckle of your seatbelt and it repels. He reaches to untangle your shoulder then grips it.
He angles you in your seat and draws you close. He wraps his other arm around you as he leans over the space between your seats. His hand brushes up to your head and he pets your hair as he guides your face into his neck. His other hand spreads over your side as he hugs you snugly.
“It's alright, sweetheart.” He holds you as he breathes into your hair. “I'm gonna take care of you… and I'm gonna take care of him too.”
Warning: age gap, verbal and physical abuse, dark elements….
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: silverfox!Andy Barber (mob au)
Note: If you’ve got a problem with slow burn then you’ve got a problem with me and I suggest you let that one marinate.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
You pick at your croissant. You're so tired and dazed, your appetite is dust. The latte is good but you can hardly stomach the sweet blueberry syrup.
Everly titters over her phone. You relented and gave it back. It was never yours to keep and you doubt she'd get a response from Charles now…
You look up at Andy as a shudder rolls over you. He's already watching you. You gulp and lick a crumb off your lip. He shifts in his seat.
“I need a shower,” Everly announces as she crumples up a wrapper.
“Oh, yeah, it's all yours,” you say.
“Give you lovebirds some time alone,” she chirps as she stands up.
You cringe and pull a flaky strip away from the pastry. She struts off and you wilt in the tension of her absence. Andy picks up his cup and takes a long swig.
“I have class today so I should probably get ready soon too.” You murmur at the croissant.
“You okay? You’ve barely eaten.” He intones as he leans his elbows on the table, drawing himself closer.
“Uh, sure, I’m just…” Reeling? Confused? Terrified? Out of my depth? A million things and nothing at all…
“I just wanna make sure you’re okay.” He drawls. “I know… it was a lot of blood. And Everly is in rough shape too. It’s a lot.”
You try not to yawn. Your eyes feel deep in their sockets. You blink and rub your eye with the heel of your hand.
“I’ve seen it before.” You mutter unthinkingly.
He’s quiet. He unbends his arm and reaches across the table. “I’m sorry to hear that, sweetheart.”
You stare at his thick fingers. You cough out the lump in your throat.
“No, it’s…”
“Who?” He asks firmly.
“What?”
“Who did you see like that?” He asks as he wiggles his fingers.
“I…” you sit up and look him in the face. You wring your hands over your chest. “It’s not…” you shrug and flick your eyes to the wall behind him. “It’s not a big deal.”
He leans in as he keeps his arm outstretched. “You?” He asks.
You swallow and shake your head. You meet his gaze again and wince. The intensity is too much. You don’t think he’s angry yet you don’t know what else to expect.
Half a lie isn’t as bad. You untangle your fingers.
“My mom,” you shakily let your arms unlock and put your hands in his.
He nods and his cheek ticks. “Sorry to hear it.”
You flick your brows indifferently. “Can’t go back…”
“You said she left. Like Evie’s…” He prompts.
“She did. Came back. Left again. A few times.” You twitch as he grips your hand, rubbing his thumb against the tendons.
“I won’t leave you. You don’t have to worry about that, sweetie. I promise,” he says. “I know you haven’t had it easy and–”
“AYEEEEEE!” Everly’s shriek has you recoil out of Andy’s grasp.
You stand as your heart pumps madly. You run around the table before you can even think. Andy is right behind you as you barrel down the hallway.
You stop and knock on the door as Andy nearly crushes you against it.
“Daddy, don’t come in!” She barks.
“Ev?” You call through.
“Your water!” She squawks from the other side as you hear her struggle and the faucet clangs off. “Ugh…” The door swings open and she stands in a towel, half-soaked. “There’s no hot water.”
You groan and drop your shoulders. “Not again.”
“Again?” Andy growls.
“Just… something with the water heater. I have to call the landlord.” You say.
Everly rolls her eyes. “I have to get dressed. No way I’m staying here any longer. Come on, we’ll go to my place.”
She shuts the door before you can protest. You back up, into Andy, and he leans into you. His warmth clouds around you.
You face him and press against the door as he crowds you. His hand is on the door frame as he pens you in. He looks down at you, unmoving.
“Um, I should… call.” You utter.
“Mhmm,” he hums. “I can fix the problem. You got a suitcase?”
“What?”
He hovers over you for a moment longer then pushes away. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He marches down the hall.
“Which one is yours?” He points along the wall.
“Hm?” You follow him sheepishly.
“Which room?”
“The second but–”
He lets himself in and you scurry to catch up to him. He strides around the room and takes it all in. He turns and faces you with hands on his hips.
“Boxes? A bag?” He says. “Come on, we gotta pack.”
“Pack?” You squeak. “No, Andy–”
He goes to the dresser and pulls open the top drawer. Your cheeks burn as he exposes your neatly folded panties. You sway on your feet nervously.
“Andy, it’s fine. I’m fine. I’ll be okay,” you assure him.
“I won’t. I’m not fine with any of this and I will not be okay knowing you’re living like this.”
“Andy.” You say.
“I got a whole apartment already. It’s fine. You should stay there. The neighbourhood is nicer. It’s got a bus straight to campus.”
He grabs a handful of your underwear and carries them to the bed. You meet him there and put your hands around the cotton. He stops and looks at you.
“It’s a nice offer–”
“Not an offer. I made up my mind. I can’t let you stay here–”
“When?” You ask as your insides knot.
“What? Today–”
“No,” your voice wobbles as you struggle to measure your breaths. “When did you decide all of this?”
His eye twitches and he pokes the corner of his lips with his tongue.
“Why did you buy that apartment? When did you decide all this?” You grab the panties from him entirely. “Huh? When did you decide for me?”
His eyes drag around the room and his brows raise in the middle. He tilts his head as his lips seal. He dips his chin slightly.
“I just knew. Day I saw you.” He looks you straight in the eye. “I haven’t thought about a single other thing. I can’t. You’re stuck in here.”
He taps his temple. Your chest scalds as you clutch your panties to your chest. You back away from him.
“Why?” You croak.
His brows lower, “why not?”
You put your back to him and go around the bed, making space between you. You need to think. You just need to sort this all out. It just doesn’t make sense to you. You can understand a textbook or a lab demonstration, but this, this formula isn’t working.
“You–” you stop yourself. “I’m too young. I’m just a student. I have nothing but this place. I can’t break my lease. I don’t know– anything! I–” You bluster. “I’m not whatever you made me in your mind.”
His expression softens and he slowly comes around the bed. You throw your armful on the mattress and turn to him, trapped against the nightstand as he stops in front of you.
“You are everything,” he breathes. “You are the only thing.” He brings his hand up to your cheek. “It’s too late, sweetheart. This thing between us… it can’t be stopped.”
You latch onto his wrist and whimper. “No, it can’t be. It just can’t–”
“Give me one good reason,” he leans in, his nose brushing yours. “To stop.”
You blink and your lips part. You stare at him, sweltering and speechless. You squeeze his wrist.
“You can’t.” He growls and crashes his lips into yours.
His hand spreads across the back of your head and he locks you in place. Your rear hits the nightstand, the lamp teetering noisily, and his other hand frames your jaw. He jitters as he pours himself into you and your hand slips down his sleeve.
You’re trying to think of one reason but your head is completely empty. You can’t fathom anything more but that moment; the way he tastes, the way he feels. You know he’s dangerous, deadly even, yet there’s a safety in his embrace that paralyses you just as much.
Warning: age gap, verbal and physical abuse, dark elements….
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: silverfox!Andy Barber (mob au)
Note: If you’ve got a problem with slow burn then you’ve got a problem with me and I suggest you let that one marinate.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
Andy's hand frames below your ear as he smothers you again. Your palm flattens to his chest as he leans into you. Your body locks up.
You're so stunned that you can't react. It's like when you heard your father shouting. You'd just lock yourself up inside and wait for it to end.
His hot breath plumes into you, filling your throat like smoke. He pushes you onto the cushion as he lifts himself over you. His hand winces but he doesn't let up.
Your spine locks and you dig your nails into his shirt, puffing desperately through your nose. He growls as his tongue gags you. His hunger startles you as much as the easy strength in his hands.
You press your other hand to his stomach and squirm. You turn your head and gasp as his lips drag on your cheek. He nuzzles your skin, inhaling you as he tenses against you.
“Andy,“ you breathe. “Please–“
“I need you so bad,” he grits as he pets your temple. “I can't get you out of my head.”
“I… I…” you sputter. “I don't….know.”
“I'll be good to you,” his voice scrapes from his throat. “That's all I want. To be good to you.”
“I-I can't think…” you murmur.
Your name flutters in the air. Your eyes go wide and Andy's throat bobs. His lashes flicks and he exhales as he carefully pushes off you.
He sits up and wipes his lips with the back of his hand, sweeping the jutting strands of hair away from his face. He clears his throat and taps your leg. You sit up and look over the back of the couch.
“Dad?” Everly bats her lashes sleepily. Her mouth squiggles and she huffs. “Ew, dad.”
“Evie,” he stands and coughs into his fist. “It's not–”
“You two could at least get a room,” she scoffs as she crosses her arms. “No one wants to see all that.”
“Honey,” he circles the couch.
She cackles and sends you a bemused look. “Really? You can do better than him, hun.”
“Ev,” you get up.
“I mean really. He's… old.” She chirps.
“Everly,” Andy broods.
“Well, you are,” she giggles. “Oh my god. Well, this wasn't on my bingo card.”
Mine, either, you think.
You frown. “Everly, do you want some coffee or something?”
“You sure you don't wanna finish? The room's all yours.”
You roll your eyes and cross your arms. You glance at Andy as his cheek dimples. His mouth slants but he doesn't seem that ashamed.
“Daddy,” she traipses up to him. “She's my friend so be nice.” She pokes his chest then points at you. “And don't put up with his bull.” She nears you and grins. “Good luck with him.”
She brushes by and hums melodically as she struts into the kitchen. You stare at Andy and sigh. He tilts his head and licks his lips.
You weren't expecting that. You were ready for the names and the insults. Ready for everything to fall apart but it just didn't. For once.
“Sweetie,” Andy begins.
“About that coffee,” Everly hollers through.
“I should help her.” You back up.
You watch him as he watches you. His eyes stray from your face and you twirl around, flitting into the kitchen. Everly snaps shut a cupboard.
“Do you people not eat around here?” She snorts.
“Coffee,” you go up and grab the square tin in the corner. “I'll get it ready.”
You take the lid off the French press and measure out the grinds with the scoop.
“Oh, you need a machine. This is so ridiculous.” She sniffs. “Oh, forget it. Let's go get some lattes.” She pauses and you peek over. Andy stands in the doorway. “Daddy, why don't you treat your two special girls to some croissants and coffee, huh?”
“Everly, you're not really–”
“We can order in!” She says. “Don't you call me a mess before you look in a mirror.” She turns to lean on the counter. “You're so pathetic…”
“Evie, don't talk to me like that.” He warns.
“I'm sorry, it's just… I get it, she's cute! But you're… you.”
He huffs. You put grip the handle of the press, caught in limbo.
“Put that away,” Everly pushes the press back. “Daddy is gonna get me the pistachio vanilla bean latte and you can have whatever you want. He has to spoil you.”
“It's fine. I can make coffee–”
“Where am I ordering from?” Andy intones.
You put the lid back on the press. You're not prepared to argue. Your head is all cluttered up. You feel like you could melt despite the icy tile beneath your feet.
“It's called Proudfood,” she beams. “Daddy, give me your phone, I'll do it.”
He clucks as she bounces across the kitchen. You stay facing the counter, their shadows warping at the edge of your vision. You chew your lip as your stomach stirs. What do you do? What do you say?
“What do you want?” Everly comes back to you. “They have a cinnamon blueberry tea latte. That sounds like you.”
“Um, sure,” you shrug, keeping your eyes on the wall beneath the cupboard. “And dessert… oh, custard croissant? Interesting.”
“You think you should get something more… filling? Like a sandwich?” Andy girds.
“We can get both,” she chimes. “Oh, how about a strawberry tart? Sweet like your lady.”
He growls. “You two figure it out.”
You wait until he's gone before you face Everly. She scrolls on the phone with a smirk. She stops and glances over at you.
“You know I don't give a fuck, right? He could stand to loosen up.” She laughs. “Besides, I now have a new weapon.” She reaches over and boops your nose. “If I tell him you want it, he can't say no.”
“Ev, I don't think–”
“Were you not listening? He gave in like…” she snaps her fingers. “That. No argument. Do you know, I didn't talk to him for three days over a pizza once. He was being so stubborn.” She thumbs through the app again. “And he's got that stupid look they all get.”
“They?” You wonder.
“Men.” She snorts. “It's kinda weird but he's down bad. I was tryna figure out what his problem was.”
Problem. Yep. That's definitely what this is.
“Sure, um, get me whatever.” You mutter.
Everly flips through the menu as you sink into oblivion. What exactly did you do to encourage this? You don't think you put out any signals. You were only polite.
Then again, you never told him no. You accepted the phone and the dinner and just went along with whatever. But you didn't know. You couldn't. How could you know those things were…things?
“What about Charles?” You ask and blink at Everly.
Her brows pop up and she grins. “Oh, Charlie. Well, guess that didn't work out.” She preens. “He was a jerk anyway.”
You want to ask her but you can't. What did Andy do to Charles and how many people has he done it to before?
You're in too deep. You might be clueless but you like to think you're smarter than that. You saw Andy's knuckles, Everly’s face, and they are just so casual about it all. Like they're used to the violence.
A knock draws you away from your doom. What now? You rush into the hall to find Andy knocking on the plaster.
“The insulation is no good in here.” He drags his hand over the wall. “I bet there's rot too.”
“What?” You utter.
“The locks can be broken with a screwdriver. Or a good kick,” he tuts as he walks along the hall and rattles a window in its frame. “No good.” He bends and lifts up a floor board. “It's a death trap. Not safe.” He lets it go and dusts his hands off as he stands. “You can't stay here.”
“It's fine–”
“No. My woman won't be living like this.” He insists.
His woman? The words infest your mind and send a shiver down your spine. You bite back another frown.
“I'll go check on Everly.” You say as he flips a light switch and the bulb flickers before it sparks.
“Wirings all jacked up too,” he shakes his head.
You leave him and go back to the kitchen. Everly taps the phone and bobs up on her long legs. “All done!” She hugs herself and nestles her chin down against the tattered sweatshirt. “It's frigid in here.”
You hold back your agitation. You know you're not like them. You settle for what you got, but they demand the best. You suppose then you won't have to worry for too long. Sooner or later, they'll see you for what you are. Like your dad said, you're worthless.
